"Strategist... are you serious... are you really serious?!"
It took Aura a good few seconds to come back to herself from her stupefied daze.
After all, 'Strategist' sounded like an intellect-based position no matter how you looked at it — and yet Fíliya had given that title to her.
Did that mean... after all these years of growth and perseverance, she had finally earned Fíliya's recognition?
It had to be. That's why she'd been given a title like this.
Heh... from this moment on, I'd like to see anyone dare mock me for not being clever enough.
"Heheh..."
Seeing Aura completely submerged in a whirlpool of bliss, Fíliya simply skipped past her and shifted her gaze to Lady Tot.
Hmm. Tot was a sluggish member of the Demon Race who only cared about eating and sleeping — and yet even she was watching Fíliya now with curious eyes.
"Tot, is there anything you'd like to do?" Fíliya asked, probing lightly.
"...I don't know. Is there a position where all I have to do is eat and sleep?" Lady Tot replied, her tone carrying its usual lazy drawl.
"I see. Then you can be the Demon Race's 'Mascot.'" Fíliya said with a soft laugh.
"Mascot?" Tot blinked blankly, looking like she didn't quite understand the word.
From the moment of her birth, she had been given the mission of 'Ultimate Weapon of the Demon Race' and 'Final Trump Card.' She had never once heard of anything called a 'Mascot' — a title that somehow sounded incredibly soft and fluffy.
"It means that from now on, you may demand food from any member of the Demon Race. 'In the name of Demon King Fíliya, you are to offer your food to me' — that is the one privilege I grant you."
"Understood." Tot gave a small nod, her eyebrow twitching ever so slightly. It was plain to see she was quite satisfied with her new position — so satisfied, in fact, that she turned on the spot and immediately addressed Solitär.
"In the name of Demon King Fíliya — Solitär, give me food."
"..."
Solitär stared at Tot with an expressionless face, then quietly let out a long sigh.
"We'll deal with that later. We have actual business to attend to right now."
"Hm?"
Having successfully managed both Aura and Tot, Fíliya suddenly felt a gentle tugging at the hem of her skirt.
She looked down. Sure enough — it was Linie.
"I want to be a strength for Lady Fíliya... I want to be the Demon Race's 'General.'" Linie said.
Linie's ambitions were clearly far grander than those of the others, and even Fíliya found herself mildly surprised to hear it.
Because... while she had always been fond of this child, she had to admit that more often than not, she unconsciously treated Linie as little more than a 'bonus attachment' that came with Aura.
And yet this unassuming little girl had insisted, time and time again, that she wanted to become a strength for Fíliya.
"Is that so... Linie really is an admirable child with real ambition. However, I already have someone in mind for that position."
Fíliya bent down and gave Linie's small head a gentle pat.
"...Understood." Linie's expression didn't waver. She simply, quietly, took a small step back from Fíliya's side.
Then, a long-handled battle axe nearly as tall as she was materialized in Linie's hands, and with a dark, grim expression, she turned and began heading toward the door.
"Linie? What do you think you're doing?" Aura, who had snapped out of her reverie and noticed Linie's movements, called out curiously.
"Nothing much. I'm simply going to kill Mister Rivale. That way, I can become Lady Fíliya's 'General.'" Linie replied flatly.
Well, that was...
Fíliya watched Linie's small retreating figure and couldn't help but shake her head with a smile — before she reached out and caught the girl, pulling her straight back into her arms.
"Linie, 'General' isn't an exclusive title, you know. There were plenty of generals in the Demon Race before, weren't there?"
"Then I want to be the 'God of War.' That's a title that belongs solely to Mister Rivale, isn't it? I'll take it from him."
"Oh? I didn't expect you to be so determined, Linie. ...All right, I won't stop you. If you can truly pull it off."
As she said this, Fíliya slowly set Linie back down on the ground, then gave the girl a gentle nudge on the shoulder — as if to say: this time, I won't hold you back. Go and do what you wish.
Linie seemed genuinely startled. She hadn't expected this turn of events at all. After a brief, bewildered pause, she could only turn around, wearing an expression caught between distress and indignation.
"Lady Fíliya... that's mean."
Heh. Just as she'd thought.
Fíliya had seen right through her — Linie didn't actually have that fierce a will to fight.
Of course, Fíliya truly believed that Linie genuinely wanted to claim the title of 'God of War.' But as Linie was now, she was still quite a ways off from having the strength for it.
As for why she had put on that display of storming off to battle Rivale to the death...
Perhaps it was nothing more than a bid to draw a little attention to herself.
"All right, Linie — don't push yourself toward something you can't do yet. But I believe there will come a day when you become the Demon Race's 'God of War.'" Fíliya said, and with that, she stepped forward once more.
At last, the group emerged onto the terrace atop the Demon King's Castle's battlements.
Within the full range of her vision, an enormous, dense crowd of demons was already kneeling.
Oh? Rivale is quite reliable when it comes down to it. Looks like he even spared me the trouble of disciplining them myself.
Fíliya was naturally pleased by the sight. She had already prepared herself to make a show of force — but it seemed that wouldn't be necessary after all.
"Is this all that remains of the Demon Race across the entire continent?" Fíliya said, her face impassive, her tone cold and low — yet with the amplification of her mana, her voice carried clearly to the ears of every demon below.
"All members of the Demon Race, save for that one individual, are present here... Naturally, during the migration, some natural attrition did occur among our numbers. I ask for the Demon King's understanding on this point."
Unlike the other demons who knelt on both knees, Rivale had taken only a single knee, addressing Fíliya in a calm, measured tone.
The individual Rivale was referring to was, without question, Macht. As for why Macht was absent — that was, of course, because Fíliya had other plans for him.
"Natural attrition..."
Fíliya let out a cold, silent laugh. The Demon Race had originally numbered over eleven hundred — and yet roughly nine hundred were present today. That rate of 'natural attrition' was just a little suspicious, wasn't it?
She sent a private encrypted message to Rivale.
[Be honest — why did you kill so many of the Demon Race?]
[Mm... beyond the necessary show of authority, the majority of those I killed were, I believe, individuals who would be considered unfit population by the Demon King's standards.]
[Oh?]
Rivale's answer kindled a flicker of genuine curiosity in Fíliya.
[They were individuals who did not hunt humans for sustenance, but slaughtered them purely for entertainment. Under the Demon King's plans, such members of the Demon Race would fall into the category of 'unteachable,' would they not? So I took the liberty of disposing of them on your behalf.]
[I see. You've worked hard.]
Fíliya said as much — and then immediately added, aloud:
"However, acting without authorization is still something that must be punished."
Almost the instant the words left her lips, Fíliya had already become a blur of shadow, lunging straight for Rivale.
Rivale instinctively moved to defend himself — but he quickly understood what Fíliya intended.
And so, in the span of just a breath or two, Fíliya returned to her original position — holding Rivale's body, all four limbs severed.
Then she dropped him like a piece of trash into the corner of the terrace.
The hundreds of demons below who witnessed this felt, in that instant, the true weight that the word 'Demon King' carried.
Fortunately, demons — especially the lower-ranked demons who made up the majority — were creatures devoid of deep emotion or humanity, so no visible fear crossed their faces.
But the sight of the 'God of War' — a being they had regarded as invincible, essentially godlike — having his limbs cleanly severed by Fíliya in one swift motion was, even for them, an impact that cut far too deep.
"How terribly cruel. After all my hard work, not a word of praise — only to be used as a prop for intimidation." Rivale, tossed into the corner of the terrace, looked remarkably at ease. He had already read Fíliya's intent, after all.
"Oh, stop complaining — it's not like you're dying. I'll have your limbs healed in a bit. And in the meantime, I'm leaving these demons under your command." Fíliya said to Rivale, her expression blank.
"..."
Rivale simply shook his head in resignation as Aura's barely-suppressed laughter rang out beside him.
"So then, Demon King — what are your instructions going forward?" Rivale's question actually caught Fíliya off guard.
With this many demons... where was she supposed to put them all?
The Demon King's Castle?
Out of the question. This castle had already been mentally filed under 'home' in Fíliya's mind. She had no intention of letting these demons move in.
But she had gathered them all here, and leaving them to sleep out in the open wasn't a solution either.
Reform, after all, had to proceed gradually.
Fortunately, back when Fíliya was still human, she truly had read a great many books — and she understood perfectly well how development worked.
"For now... let's build houses."
And with that, the current Demon King Fíliya issued her very first royal decree.
____
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