“Indeed. And they did not specify how long the invite list was, but do they think the world’s great leaders have all the time in the world on their hands? No, they will not accept such a sudden request so readily.”
“And Your Majesty personally traveling to the event presents some serious issues, if I may say so!”
The ministers weren’t in the wrong. But Gazel paid them no mind.
“I am not so sure about your concerns. If anything, this move shows supreme confidence on his part. You see, my minsters, you only know of him from the time he traveled to our gates. Now, as a demon lord, he is another creature entirely. This is the Rimuru so confidently holding this event, and it will no doubt be quite a fascinating one. Besides, I am sure many of us would like to explore the internal workings of Tempest, now that it has become a great military power. If they are sending out invitations, I have no doubts that many will be accepted. Just as Vaughn said, the lodging provided is superb, and if they want to establish a guest list sooner rather than later, it must surely be so they can provide the best service possible to their visitors.”
“Very true,” Vaughn agreed. “He certainly did strike a bolder image as demon lord. Very few people indeed could get away with treating Sir Rimuru like a fool nowadays. And I can’t help but wonder what sort of festival the monsters would want to hold. Whether representing our kingdom or not, I most certainly wish to participate.”
Vaughn had intended to be a part of this from the moment he heard of it, perhaps expecting to ask Vester for an invitation. Gazel certainly didn’t want him to have all the fun. He knew full well the ministers would be dead set against their king’s attendance, though, so he searched for a method to make them see things his way.
“Besides, I am Rimuru’s partner in battle—and as such, I must guide him to ensure he is not being ridiculed by his own people. I must make it known to his neighbors that we of Dwargon are the first nation to make friends with Tempest.”
Some of the ministers began to understand Gazel’s true intentions.
“Ah… Y-yes, yes! We have the closest ties of all to Sir Rimuru, and we should be sure other nations are aware of it.”
“Agreed. I understand that those scoundrels in Thalion are attempting to butter him up, now that he is a demon lord.”
“Now would be a good time to show His Majesty in close consort with Sir Rimuru. It would do wonders to keep our rivals in check.”
So far so good, thought Gazel. He opened his mouth a little, preparing to conclude this debate, when:
“I fail to see why we are even discussing this. We know full well that if we defy His Majesty, he will simply slip past our borders again. Instead of that, I feel it far safer for Dwargon to provide its full support to its leader.”
This was the chief elder of Dwargon’s senate chiding the ministers, a man who rarely participated in public debate. The time Gazel employed a body double to escape the kingdom undercover still grated at him, apparently.
Oh, brother. Well, at least I can join in the festivities now…
This wasn’t exactly the way Gazel meant to gain support, but it was good enough. It kind of put him off a little, but he was willing to accept it.
Now, the Dwarven Kingdom was 100 percent committed to the Tempest invite, no matter how bewildered the ministers were by it, and with that, more and more people in the hall began expressing their desire to join in.
Before long, Gazel had quite another problem: How am I ever going to pare down the list of attendants joining me?
On the grounds of the royal palace of Thalion was a large, impressively beautiful garden, expansive enough to house a variety of plants and creatures rare to find in the wild. This park was personally funded by the emperor, who enjoyed a vast fortune thanks to the many streams of revenue she enjoyed. A very small percentage of that income was all it took to keep this masterpiece of natural beauty going. And not just the garden—nothing in and around the palace was funded by tax revenue. That was how impossibly rich the head of the Sorcerous Dynasty was.
Two people were currently relaxing within these gardens. One was Archduke Erald Grimwald, father of the adventurer Elen and one of the nation’s most powerful officials. Facing him was the only person in Thalion who wielded more authority than he—Emperor Elmesia El-Ru Thalion herself.
On paper, the emperor was of ambiguous gender with beautiful features that were only vaguely feminine—at least, that was the act she put on. In truth, Elmesia was female through and through.
Her age, however, was unknown. She was among the most pure-blooded of elves, meaning her elven qualities were stronger than most; she simply didn’t age. That made her a living witness to history, and asking how many years she had lived was a taboo. She looked elegant and noble, but she still hadn’t lost her youth—in fact, her compact frame could cause one to mistake her for a child. Her jade-green eyes were sharp and intelligent, and her vibrant skin was like a fresh coating of snow. Her long silver hair shone as it flowed down her head, brushing past the light redness of her cheeks, and her unique, pointed ears poked out from underneath.
In short, she was the epitome of harmony in motion—a high elf, one of the most supreme beings in the land.
The archduke found himself smitten for a moment at this beauty but
