“If that’s what you all have to say, I suppose I’ll have to clean up the mess that results. You’ll need someone to keep him in check, won’t you?”
That was his role, most of the time, and Dolph didn’t resent it.
The heroes of dwarfdom were in unison, and a new policy was forged. But while nobody would defy their supreme leader’s decision on the surface, some of the ministers were still of different minds. They would nonetheless offer their support, hiding their own intentions under the protective front of the administrators’ decisions.
There was just one reason for that: As part of a nation leading the world in technology, something about “budding new civilizations” struck a chord with them. Toiling away at their research, making only piecemeal advances, offered no hope of major developments. This demon lord, meanwhile, was pushing the envelope and demonstrating zero fear of anyone stopping him. Vester, their former colleague, reported as much to them, and some in the room had started to envy the freedom the man enjoyed.
“How dare Sir Vester just leave and join that band! Unforgivable!”
“Yes! Did you hear about the new barriers built on the highways to ward off monsters?”
“And the lighting, too. I hear of new communication devices under development as well.”
“Potions weren’t enough for him, were they? I can’t believe how jealous—er, how outraged I am!”
It was starting to become clear where the ministers’ hearts and minds truly were. Gazel snickered, then cleared his throat—a signal for everyone to stay quiet. The ministers’ eyes focused on him.
“Our conclusion is clear. Our nation must trust in the demon lord Rimuru and walk forward in unison with him! Let us receive the fruits of their labor, keeping the technology they develop for ourselves. Thus, if they ever are defeated by the heavenly army, that technology will never be lost! Such is the will of the Armed Nation of Dwargon!”
Nobody was ever going to complain about that. King Gazel always prioritized his own nation above all else. The ministers bowed their heads at once, expressing their agreement.
“Heh-heh-heh… Not letting go of the goods, huh? I appreciate how you aren’t couching it in rosy vocabulary, at least.”
Vaughn was speaking—or muttering, really—for most of the people in the hall.
It wasn’t long before the conference ended, with the final item on the itinerary—the acceptance of Lubelius’ request—treated almost as an afterthought. Now the bureaucracy would go to work, drafting up new treaties with both Lubelius and Tempest. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but the three of them, plus the rest of the Western Nations, would all need to prepare together for the Temma War. There was no way of telling yet whether this was the right move, but at the very least, Gazel was content.
Once things settled down a bit, one minister raised his hand.
“Your Majesty, a word?”
Gazel, preparing to leave the chamber, settled back in his seat and eyed him.
“My liege, we have received a letter of invitation from Sir Rigurd. It seems that Sir Rimuru is holding an event to officially mark his debut as demon lord…and he seeks your attendance.”
“His debut? What could that be about?”
The minister was just as in the dark as Gazel. He blinked helplessly a couple times, giving the other ministers enough time to raise yet another hue and cry.
“Just a front, I’m sure. He no doubt bids you to be present so he can boast to the world about how friendly we are with him.”
“I think that boat has long left port, good sir.”
“Ah! Wait, I have heard of this! Vester sent word that the monster nation wishes to hold a grand festival to shore up its public image. He himself is serving as an adviser to their administration, and they are preparing quite a number of festivities for the occasion.”
Vaughn gauged the ministers, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “How interesting! I do recall how wonderful their accommodations were. I was allowed to bask in a hot spring, the food was excellent, and the conduct of their servants impeccable. I knew Vester was training them, but plainly he did his job well. And I can imagine how grandiose these ‘festivities’ might be!”
He certainly sounded enthusiastic about it to Gazel. If the king turned down the invite, Vaughn seemed likely to go in his stead.
Heh-heh-heh… That sly fox. I don’t know what’s motivating him, but he just doesn’t know how to settle down and lie back, does he?
Gazel thought the demon lord’s aim was to gain the confidence of the Western Nations, but this new act seemed to defy explanation. That’s what made it so interesting to him. He found it difficult to stifle the laughter coming up his throat. Maintaining decorum around his ministers was such a stress at times.
Curse you… Setting just the sort of trap that would torment me the most… Relentless!
The irrational anger was enough to kill Gazel’s urge to laugh.
“What is your bidding, my liege?” a minister ventured to ask the silent king. “Sir Rigurd sends word that, while attending may pose some difficulty for you, if you are able to grace them with your presence, they will provide you treatment truly befitting a king. Similar invitations have apparently been sent to leaders around the world, and there are only a limited number of seats available. He also warned us to reply as quickly as possible, as Tempest will be crowded on the dates of the event.”
It sounded polite enough, but it was no way to talk to the ruler of a great, powerful nation. The minister knew as much, fearing how his lord would respond as he spoke. But it was nothing that fazed Gazel—if anything, it perplexed him that anyone thought it would. His Tyrant skill made it easy for him to read the minds of his ministers, so he smiled a bit as he attempted to correct them.
“Let us accept the invitation, then. I look forward to touring Tempest anew.”
“My liege! No matter how friendly Sir
