Magnus lounged on his half-broken throne, his golden eyes half-lidded with boredom. The dim torchlight flickered against the cracked walls, casting long shadows that stretched across the grand but crumbling throne room. The only sound was the steady swish of a broom scraping against the floor, a dull, rhythmic noise that did little to soothe his restlessness.
As he stared at the fractured ceiling, lost in a tangle of idle thoughts, an idea surfaced in his mind.
He lifted a single finger.
"Bob."
The sweeping stopped instantly. Bob, the ever-diligent demon servant, stiffened mid-motion. His small, twisted horns twitched as he clutched his broom with trembling hands, eyes darting toward Magnus with pure, unfiltered fear.
Still hunched over, he scrambled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet before skidding to a stop in front of the throne.
"Y-yes! My lord…?" he squeaked.
Magnus exhaled slowly, shifting in his seat. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he made his request.
"Go and get me some tea."
Bob's face twisted in confusion. He blinked rapidly, looking as if Magnus had just spoken an ancient, forbidden language.
"T-Tea…?" His voice cracked. "I-I apologize, my lord, but… I don't know what that means."
Magnus's golden eyes flickered, a brief glint of disbelief passing through them. His fingers drummed idly against the armrest of his throne.
"You don't… know tea?" He spoke each word slowly, as if testing whether Bob had simply misheard him.
Bob frantically shook his head. "N-no, my lord! I swear upon my horns, I have never heard of such a thing!"
Magnus exhaled through his nose. "Alright. Listen carefully, Bob, because what I am about to say may very well change your miserable existence." He straightened slightly, his voice taking on a rare, almost regal tone.
"Tea," he began, "is the single most divine creation in the universe. It is warmth in a cup. A delicate blend of leaves, steeped in hot water, that produces a drink so refined, so soothing, that it makes you forget about life's many disappointments."
Bob stared at him, wide-eyed, as if Magnus had just described some mythical treasure.
"You… drink leaves, my lord?"
Magnus groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Not just leaves, Bob. It's an art. The right leaves, the right temperature, the right brewing time—it's a sacred ritual of relaxation. A drink of kings. Of sages." He leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes narrowing. "And you're telling me that, in this entire demon realm, not a single wretched soul has thought of brewing leaves in hot water?"
Bob quickly shook his head. "N-no, my lord! We mostly drink… blood, firewater, or swamp brew."
Magnus slumped back against his throne with a defeated sigh. "This really is hell."
After a moment of brooding silence, he cracked open one eye. "Bob, tell me something. What realms exist outside of this one?"
Bob blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Uh… Well, my lord, there are several realms. There is the Human Realm, where mortals live. The Elf Realm, where those pointy-eared forest folk reside. The Beastkin Realm, full of those… animal-people. The Celestial Realm, home of the winged tyrants. And, of course, the Demon Realm, where we reside."
Magnus tapped his chin. "And do any of these realms happen to have tea?"
Bob hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. "Um… I-I wouldn't know for sure, my lord, but if I had to guess… maybe the Human Realm? They have all sorts of strange customs. Cooking food, farming, wearing socks—"
Magnus held up a hand, his golden eyes sharpening. "Wait. What do you mean 'cooking food'? You're telling me demons don't cook?"
Bob shrank slightly. "Well… not in the way you're thinking, my lord. We mostly just… roast things over hellfire. Or eat them raw."
Magnus pressed his fingers against his temple. "So let me get this straight. No tea. No proper cooking. And you're telling me that drinking something called swamp brew—which, by the way, sounds like a health hazard—is normal?"
Bob nodded quickly. "Y-yes, my lord! It's very nutritious. Gives you extra limbs sometimes!"
Magnus groaned. "…I should've stayed in bed today." He waved a hand dismissively. "Fine. Forget it. What about the other realms? The elves—do they have tea?"
Bob scratched his chin, his tail twitching. "I… think so? They like plants and stuff, so they probably brew something leafy. But they're really secretive. They don't let demons anywhere near their lands."
Magnus muttered under his breath. "Of course they don't." He shifted his attention back to Bob. "And what about the Celestial Realm? Do those winged tyrants drink tea?"
Bob's face scrunched up in disgust. "Ugh. Maybe. Those self-righteous pigeons think they're better than everyone, so I wouldn't be surprised if they had some holy golden tea that makes you float or something."
Magnus snorted. "That actually sounds like something they'd do." He leaned back against his throne, deep in thought. "So, if I want tea… my best bet is either the Human Realm or the Elf Realm."
Bob hesitated before nodding. "Y-yes, my lord… but, uh… those realms are kinda hard to get to."
Magnus smirked lazily. "Bob. I'm the Demon King. Getting there isn't the problem." He stretched his arms behind his head. "The real problem is… should I even bother?"
Bob gulped. "W-Well, my lord, it is just a drink…"
Magnus shot him a sharp look. "It's not just a drink, Bob. It's the key to my peace of mind. And considering how this realm is run by idiots who drink swamp sludge, I might have to bother."
Bob swallowed hard, realizing there was no talking his master out of this.
Magnus closed his eyes, his smirk widening. "Alright then… Looks like I'll be taking a little trip."
"Wait no..." Magnus cracked one golden eye open, smirking.
"Bob."
Bob flinched. "Y-yes, my lord?"
"I have decided," Magnus declared, stretching his arms lazily. "If I can't get tea here, then I'll bring the tea to me."
Bob blinked in confusion. "Uh… my lord?"
Magnus lazily pointed a finger at him. "You. Go to the Elf Realm. Find one of those nature-obsessed pointy-ears… and bring them back here."
Bob's jaw nearly hit the floor. "W-WHAT?! My lord, with all due respect, do you know what elves do to demons who step into their forests?! They shoot first and don't even ask questions later! They have arrows that explode! They can talk to trees! TREES, my lord!"
Magnus yawned. "And?"
"And—!" Bob threw his hands up in the air, his tail flicking in panic. "And I'll die!"
Magnus rested his cheek against his palm, his golden eyes glowing with mild amusement. "Bob. You're thinking too much."
"I'm thinking because I don't want to die!"
Magnus sighed dramatically. "Fine. Let me make this easy for you." He lifted a finger
"One: You're not allowed to die. If you do, I'll be very annoyed."
Bob gulped. "Th-That's… not how dying works, my lord."
"Two: You don't need to fight. Just… grab a little elf that looks like they know how to make tea and bring them here. It's a simple fetch quest."
Bob's eye twitched. "F-FETCH QUEST?! My lord, this isn't some game!"
Magnus ignored him. "Three: If you fail…" He opened his eyes fully, his golden irises gleaming like molten gold. "I'll be very disappointed."
Bob froze. That was worse than death.
Bob let out a shaky breath, his tail curling anxiously behind him. His eyes darted around the throne room as if searching for an escape route that didn't exist.
He straightened his back, gathering whatever scraps of courage he had left. "M-My lord, I must object! This is madness! I'm not a warrior! I'm a janitor! I clean floors, not kidnap elves!"
Magnus tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Mm. Good point."
Bob exhaled in relief. "So you understand—"
"—You're also disposable."
Bob choked on air.
Magnus flashed a lazy grin. "Come on, Bob, don't make that face. I'm not sending you to war. I'm sending you on an errand. Think of it as… expanding your skill set. You're always whining about how demons don't get career growth opportunities. Consider this a promotion."
Bob shook his head frantically. "Th-this isn't a promotion, my lord! This is a death sentence!"
Magnus rolled his wrist dismissively. "Then don't die."
Bob opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "That's… not how that works!"
Magnus waved a hand, already bored of the conversation. "Bob, listen. The Elf Realm isn't that far. Sneak in, find an elf who looks like they know what tea is, and bring them back. Simple."
"Sneak in?" Bob's voice cracked. "You think I can just sneak into the most heavily protected forests in existence?!"
Magnus arched a brow. "Are you not a demon? You guys love sneaky stuff."
Bob groaned, pressing his fingers against his forehead. "That's imps, my lord. I'm not an imp. I have dignity."
Magnus smirked. "You're also the only one available."
Bob groaned again, dragging his hands down his face. He knew arguing was useless.
"Fine…" He let out a long, suffering sigh. "I'll go. But if I come back as an elf kebab, I'm haunting you."
Magnus gave him a lazy thumbs-up. "Duly noted. Now, off you go, Bob. Bring me my tea-maker."
Bob hung his head in despair before trudging out of the throne room, muttering a stream of curses under his breath.
Magnus watched him go, then yawned and stretched with a joyful smile.
"Ah… I love delegating."