Ciel: <>
Voice of the World: <<>>
******
In a secluded chamber deep within Raja's royal palace, the kingdom's ministers sat gathered around a grand, ornate table. The air was thick with tension, their grim expressions reflecting the crisis at hand.
"It's almost time," Brynn Stormblade, the Minister of Defense muttered, his fingers tightening into a fist against the polished wood. His gaze swept across the room, searching for answers that refused to present themselves. "Astoria Kingdom's army is nearly at our doorstep, and yet our ever-so-insightful queen has forbidden us from deploying our forces in defense!" His voice carried a sharp edge of frustration.
[A/N: I gave the attacking kingdom a random name since constantly referring to it as 'the neighboring kingdom' didn't sit right with me.]
"All because of that damn demon!" Theron Shadowbane, the Army General seethed, his fury punctuated by a resounding slam of his palm against the table. "I fail to understand why the queen would seek aid from that nation of monsters, of all places! Couldn't she have turned to a human kingdom instead?"
"As much as I hate to admit it," Jareth Ledgerleaf, the Minister of Finance sighed, rubbing his temples, "the nation of monsters may be our best—perhaps even our only—choice."
"Indeed," Seraphina Valerius, the Minister of Foreign Affairs agreed, her voice heavy with reluctant acceptance. "The Armed Nation of Dwargon is bound by that old non-interference treaty. Their hands are tied; they can't officially come to our aid. And requesting help from the Kingdom of Falmuth would be no different than handing them our economy on a silver platter." she exhaled sharply. "Not to mention the endless demands they'd impose on us for years to come."
"Those greedy bastards have been scheming for years," Elara Stonescribe, the Head of Intelligence scoffed, crossing her arms. "They even tried to strong-arm the Kingdom of Blumund into assimilation. They would have succeeded if Dwargon hadn't intervened. Honestly, Falmuth wouldn't be nearly as bold if not for their Chief Sorcerer, Razen. That man is no ordinary spellcaster—he's frighteningly knowledgeable, rumored to be as strong as ten Great Demon Lords. His very name alone forces even a nation like Englassia to tread carefully around him."
"Enough!" Seneschal Whisperwind, the Royal Advisor snapped, raising his voice. "Falmuth and their sorcerer are not our immediate concern! What about the Holy Empire of Lubelius? I know they don't usually intervene in human conflicts, but if they learned a demon was interfering in our affairs, surely they would have sent someone to help us."
"There was a chance," Elara admitted, though her expression darkened. "But I wouldn't recommend it. Their assistance would be just as—if not more—troublesome than Falmuth's." she leaned forward, her voice lowering as if the walls themselves could not be trusted. "Lubelius might help us, but their price would be steep. Once inside our borders, they would demand the right to establish a Church of God Luminous, planting their influence deep within our society. And they wouldn't stop there." she tapped a finger against the table for emphasis. "They would install their own bishop or priest within our royal court, gradually shifting our people's faith and loyalty away from the crown. And while they preach their righteousness, they'd quietly exploit our resources for their own ends."
The chamber fell into a heavy silence, the weight of their predicament settling upon them like an iron shroud.
"So, in the end..." Seneschal muttered bitterly, staring down at his clasped hands. "Bowing to that demon is our only real option, isn't it? But becoming a vassal to a nation of monsters... It would be the greatest disgrace our kingdom has suffered since its founding. If that happens, the goddess will surely strip her blessing from our land."
A defeated sigh escaped the Minister of Defense as he leaned back in his chair. "What other choice do we have?" he said, his voice hollow. "As much as I despise this situation, the queen is not wrong. The poisoned lake has already left most of our soldiers weakened, and even though the waters have been purified, it will take at least a month before they regain their full strength. Deploying them now would be nothing more than an act of desperation—a futile sacrifice that would only bolster our enemy's morale."
Silence once again settled over the room as the ministers reflected on the day Queen Towa had announced the aid Raja would receive from Tempest—along with the condition its ruler had set in exchange.
That's right. The only demand Rimuru Tempest had made before offering his assistance was that the Kingdom of Raja would become a vassal state of his nation. It was a simple yet absolute requirement. Naturally, Towa had been reluctant. No ruler would willingly surrender their country's sovereignty and yet when she looked upon the dire state of her kingdom—the poisoned lake that had weakened her people, the looming threat of invasion, and the sheer helplessness of her forces—she realized there was no other choice. And so, with a heavy heart, she accepted Rimuru's terms.
However, when she shared her decision with her court, not a single one of them was pleased. Though they understood the reality of their situation, none of them could stomach the thought of losing their status as a free nation, least of all to monsters. To them, the idea was unthinkable. Unforgivable. The greatest disgrace that could have befallen their kingdom. If they submitted, Raja would become a laughingstock among the human nations, a shameful example of a kingdom that had bowed to creatures they had been raised to fear and distrust.
And yet, despite their silent resentment, none dared to openly oppose the queen's decision.
For many, it was out of respect. Towa was not just their queen—she was a ruler who had given everything for her people. They had witnessed firsthand the sacrifices she had made. Week after week, she had risked her own health to purify the lake, even as the poison stubbornly returned. She had forsaken the luxuries of the palace, diverting resources into the national treasury instead. Many of the older ministers had watched her grow from a polite, timid child into a queen who bore the weight of her kingdom without complaint. And above all, she had sought aid not through a mere envoy, but by humbling herself and personally appealing to the King of Monsters. That alone spoke volumes of her devotion towards her kingdom and it's people.
For others, however, respect was not enough to quell their anger. There were whispers—quiet conversations behind closed doors—of those who believed Raja could outmaneuver Tempest. That if they played their cards right, they could feign compliance and, once the crisis had passed, find a way to reclaim their independence. But when one such proposal was brought before the queen, she had immediately rejected it.
That was when the true divide began to form.
The dissatisfied faction held their tongues in the presence of the queen's loyal supporters, knowing that open defiance would not be welcomed. But they did not abandon their convictions. No, they merely waited. Biding their time. Searching for the right moment to make their voices heard.
"What if there was a way?"
The Court Magician, Lucius Spellweaver, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke with a sly smile curled at the edges of his lips as he surveyed the room. "What if we could turn that demon against our enemies and exploit his nation's resources to strengthen our own—without giving him anything in return?"
"Then I'd say you've lost your damn mind," Brynn snapped, his glare sharp enough to cut stone. "The Queen already warned us against any reckless schemes, didn't she?"
"He's right," Seneschal said with a nod, siding with the Minister of Defense. "It hasn't even been six months since you took over as Court Magician after your father. Don't do anything that'll get you removed from the position."
Lucius scoffed, his expression twisting into mockery. "I see. No wonder this nation is in such a pitiful state. With a royal court full of cowards, is it any surprise the Queen is just as spineless?"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop and before anyone could react, the Brynn moved. In a blur, he surged from his seat, seized Lucius by the throat, and slammed him against the stone wall. His grip was ironclad, fingers digging into the young mage's windpipe.
"How dare you slander Her Majesty behind her back!" he growled, fury burning in his eyes as he tightened his grip.
Even as he struggled for breath, Lucius smirked. "Resorting to brute force against a mage—how brave of you," he rasped, his voice dripping with mockery. "But unfortunately for you, I'm not the only one who shares this opinion."
As soon as the words left Lucius's mouth a cold sensation pricked Brynn's skin. His body tensed as he felt the unmistakable press of a blade against his throat.
"Let him go," Army General Theron's voice was low, dangerous. "Or we're going to have a problem." The blade pushed in slightly, a warning. "I won't ask twice."
Shock flickered across Brynn's face as he slowly released his grip, stepping back. He turned to the Theron, disbelief clouding his features. "You... How could you?" His voice was unsteady, wavering between anger and betrayal. "How could you betray Her Majesty like this?"
"Betray her?" Theron let out a bitter laugh, pulling his sword away. "Don't make me laugh. She's the one who betrayed us first! She's the one who bowed her head to those monsters! She's the one who is handing our nation over to a demon! And I will do whatever it takes to stop that from happening."
"And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?" Royal Advisor, Seneschal demanded, his voice heated. "Are you going to fight that demon yourself?"
Lucius chuckled, stepping forward as he dusted off his robes. "Now, now, let's not be so barbaric," he said smoothly, amusement lacing his words. "I never said anything about fighting him." His smirk widened. "Why fight when I can simply... change the Queen's mind?"
A cold chill ran through the room. Unease flickered in the ministers' eyes, but none of them spoke.
Taking their silence as an invitation to continue, Lucius's tone turned almost gleeful. "You see, during my travels studying magic, I came across a certain rare and powerful spell that allows one to bind another's mind to their will." He let the words sink in, watching as horror dawned on some faces and intrigue on others. "With that magic, we can take control of the Queen. That way, we'll be the ones making the decisions for this kingdom, without waiting for our spineless monarch to approve them."
"You—!" Brynn looked as though he wanted to strike him, but his hands clenched into fists at his sides, trembling with rage. "How can you say something so vile with a smile on your face?!" the Minister of Defense spat, disgust twisting his expression. He turned to the Theron, desperation in his voice. "How can you be okay with this? We swore to the late King and Queen that we would protect their daughter! Is this what you call protecting her?"
Theron's expression was cold, unyielding. "We made that promise before Towa decided to sell us out to the monsters. Before she made it clear that she cares more about honoring some foolish agreement with that demon than protecting her people." His voice was sharp, unwavering. "She made her choice. Now we make ours. Raja does not need a monarch who kneels before monsters!"
"And, quite frankly, we agree with the young Court Magician," Minister of Finance, Jareth added, his tone laced with disdain. "The current Queen fails to hold a candle compared to her predecessors. We have all seen her pathetic attempts to purify the lake. If she had truly been blessed by the Goddess, she would have succeeded long ago. But she didn't. Which only proves one thing—the Goddess has turned her back on the royal family." His lips curled into a sneer. "It's time we take the reins of this nation into our own hands."
"I see. So you've all made up your minds," Seneschal said, his voice tight with barely restrained fury. His piercing gaze swept across the room before settling on the Court Magician. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I assume this spell isn't so easy to cast. Otherwise, we all would have been enslaved by you already."
Lucius let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Oh, I'm wounded! Offended, even, that you think so little of me," he lamented dramatically, only for his smirk to return—twisted, confident, and utterly sinister. "But you're right. It's a rather intricate spell—one that requires an immense amount of magic power... and a living sacrifice."
A frigid silence settled over the room.
Even those who had initially supported him felt a sickening unease coil in their stomachs. The air, already heavy with treachery, now seemed suffocating.
"But worry not," Lucius continued breezily, as if discussing something as mundane as tomorrow's weather. "I've already found a solution to the issue of magic power. And as for the sacrifice—" He let out a dark chuckle. "That rabbitwoman who accompanied the demon should do nicely. After all, our dear Queen is rather… weak-willed, isn't that right?" he added with a chuckle.
The discomfort in the room deepened, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone. Even the more ruthless members of the court hesitated. But the Court Magician wasn't finished.
"And as for the demon himself?" He grinned. "He may look formidable, but he won't be a problem either. I've already found the perfect sacrifice—one that will allow me to control even him."
Seneschal swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "...And who is this sacrifice you speak of?"
Lucius's grin widened, his voice practically dripping with glee. "You remember the blonde woman who arrived with the Queen a few days ago, don't you?" He let the words hang in the air, watching as realization dawned in their eyes. "Some of the palace servants reported something quite interesting. Apparently, she's the demon's wife… and she's pregnant."
A wave of horror and disgust rippled through the room.
"A sacrifice like that," Lucius mused, savoring their reactions, "should be more than enough to bind even a demon of his caliber."
"You… You've lost your mind!" Brynn roared, slamming his hand down onto the table with enough force to rattle the goblets and documents scattered across it. His face twisted in sheer outrage. "This vile wretch is talking about murdering an unborn child! And none of you have anything to say about it?!"
Theron hesitated, his fingers curling into a fist. For the briefest moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, it vanished. He inhaled deeply, steeling himself. "The kingdom's survival demands sacrifices," he said coldly, his tone devoid of hesitation. "And I'd rather sacrifice outsiders than our own people."
Brynn stared at him, disbelief washing over his face like a crashing wave.
"It seems that in your fear of monsters, you've decided to abandon all your humanity," he said, voice thick with disgust. His hand moved instinctively to his sword. "I won't stand by and watch you become the very monsters you claim to despise."
Steel hissed as he unsheathed his weapon. "I'll deal with this abomination myself!"
He lunged forward, his blade gleaming in the dim candlelight—
—only for his vision to blur.
His steps faltered. His grip on his sword slackened. The room around him twisted, tilting unnaturally. "What…?" His voice was hoarse, disoriented, as his body fought to stay upright.
Lucius let out a satisfied hum, tilting his head in amusement as he watched the Minister of Defense struggle. "Ah, it seems the concoction is taking effect." He tucked his hands into his sleeves, strolling toward the door with an air of smug satisfaction. "Don't worry—it's not poison. I'll still need you all after my plan succeeds. I simply slipped a sleeping draught into the wine." He cast an almost pitying glance at the Minister of Defense, whose knees buckled beneath him. "It'll keep you unconscious for the next twenty-four hours."
A chorus of enraged curses erupted from the others, their bodies succumbing to the drug's effects one by one. Some tried to resist, reaching for weapons or attempting to stand, but their limbs grew heavy, their minds clouded.
Lucius watched them fall, one after another, until he was the last one standing. He exhaled slowly, savoring the moment.
"Rest easy," he murmured, stepping over the fallen Minister of Defense with a smirk. "When you wake up… Raja will be well on its way to becoming the most powerful nation in the West."
With that, he slipped out of the room, the sound of collapsing bodies and fading curses trailing behind him.
******
Deep within the underground dungeons of Raja's castle, the Court Magician, Lucius strolled leisurely, his footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone walls. The deeper he ventured, the dimmer the torchlight became, casting flickering shadows that danced like specters in the damp corridors.
As he walked, he made sure to dismiss any guards he encountered with a casual wave of his hand and his authority within the queen's court ensured that no one questioned him. One by one, they obediently turned on their heels and left, vanishing into the upper levels of the castle. It was a simple but necessary precaution—this was not a meeting that needed unwanted witnesses.
At last, he reached the deepest part of the dungeon, where the air was thick with the scent of mildew and iron. He came to a halt before a particular cell, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he peered through the iron bars.
"Well, well… Royal Doctor Chikuan," Lucius greeted, his voice laced with amusement as he addressed the imprisoned elf. "I won't lie and say you're looking good, but for someone locked away in this miserable place, you seem to be holding up rather well."
Inside the dimly lit cell, a figure stood calmly amidst the filth, unfazed by his circumstances. Slender and sharp-eyed, Chikuan barely looked worse for wear, despite the conditions of his imprisonment. If anything, he carried himself with an air of quiet defiance, his violet eyes glinting in the low light.
"It's all thanks to my elven physiology," Chikuan replied smoothly, brushing off the remark with practiced ease. He had no intention of revealing his true nature as a demon to the human in front of him. "Anyway, I take it your visit means it's finally time to put the plan into motion?"
"Indeed, it is," Lucius confirmed, though he paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly as if studying the prisoner. A thoughtful expression crossed his face before he spoke again.
"That said… I must admit, I never expected you to be the one poisoning the Queen," he mused, tapping a finger idly against his staff. "You've served the royal family for nearly a century, haven't you? What made you turn on her all of a sudden?"
"I have my reasons," Chikuan said curtly, his voice edged with finality and his face remained unreadable, "Just as you have yours." He stepped forward, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his face. "Besides, does it really matter anymore? We're working toward the same goal now, aren't we Master Lucius?"
Lucius chuckled, the sound low and knowing. "That, we are," he conceded, his smirk widening.
Without another word, he lifted his staff, tapping the metal lock with a lazy flick of his wrist. A pulse of magic surged through the air—an instant later, the lock shattered into pieces, the fragments clattering against the stone floor.
Just as the heavy iron door groaned open, and Chikuan stepped out of his cell, the faint but distinct sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the dungeon corridor.
Lucius tensed. His fingers tightened around his staff as his eyes flickered toward the shadows beyond the torchlight.
"I dismissed all the guards… so who could this be?" he muttered, his voice laced with suspicion. His grip on his staff tightened, prepared to strike if necessary. However, as the figure came into view, his wariness shifted into something more akin to irritation.
"Ah, Master Lucius! I finally found you!" The cheerful, almost giddy voice of Lacua, the ever-smiling traveling merchant, rang out as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. His round face was stretched into a wide, unsettling grin, and his violet eyes gleamed with amusement as he rubbed his hands together.
Lucius exhaled sharply, lowering his staff but not his guard. "Lacua, it's about time you showed up," he said, his tone dripping with barely concealed disdain for the short, rotund merchant.
"But of course! How could I miss such an auspicious occasion?" Lacua chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he could barely contain his amusement. "By the way, did you find that magic tome I so generously gifted you useful?"
Lucius regarded him for a moment before offering a slow nod. "Yes. It proved to be quite insightful," he admitted. In truth, the spell he had so proudly presented to the ministers—the one he claimed could bind another's mind to his will—had come from that very tome. And he wholeheartedly believed that soon, it would be the key to reshaping Raja's future.
Or so he thought.
Unbeknownst to Lucius, he had been played for a fool.
The so-called "mind-binding spell" he had so eagerly sought to master was not a spell of domination, but a weapon of utter destruction—an ancient, insidious curse crafted by none other than the Great Evil Sorcerer, Jahil. Its true purpose was not to subjugate the mind of another, but to shatter it beyond repair, reducing the victim to a hollow, broken shell. Worse still, the spell did not discriminate; if the caster failed to shield their own consciousness properly, they too would suffer the same fate—erased, mind and soul, into the void.
And Lacua—no, the demon hiding beneath that merchant's guise—could barely contain his anticipation.
For three long years, he had laid the groundwork, searching tirelessly for the perfect fool to cast the spell upon the queen. Countless pawns had failed him, forcing him to pivot to his backup plan: poisoning the lake and weakening the kingdom from within. But now… now, at last, everything had fallen into place.
All that remained was for Lucius to take the final step. To willingly condemn himself in his misguided arrogance.
And Lacua, ever the loyal follower of Empress Violet, would be there to witness it all—waiting to reap his reward from the Empress for his unwavering devotion.
"By the way, did you bring the artifact you mentioned in our last meeting?" Lucius asked, his sharp gaze fixated on the merchant.
"But of course, Master Lucius!" Lacua responded gleefully, his ever-present grin widening as he reached into his coat. With exaggerated care, he pulled out a small, golden-colored box, its ornate surface glinting under the dim torchlight. Holding it reverently before Lucius, he slowly lifted the lid, revealing a dark, swirling marble that pulsed with a sinister energy.
"This," Lacua declared, his voice dripping with theatrical excitement, "is the artifact I spoke of. Once consumed, it will grant you an immense surge of magical power—enough to rival even the strongest of Demon Lords. But be warned, its effects last only 48 hours. Use it wisely."
Lucius eyed the marble warily, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. The sheer malevolence radiating from it was palpable.
"Any side effects?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.
"None that I'm aware of," Lacua answered smoothly, though a glint of amusement flickered in his eyes. Then, tilting his head slightly, he let out an exaggerated sigh. "What's wrong, Master Lucius? Surely you're not having second thoughts?" His tone was deliberately goading, laced with just the right amount of condescension to stir Lucius's pride.
"Absolutely not!" Lucius snapped, his voice echoing through the underground chamber as he glared at Lacua. "Once I've made up my mind, not even the gods themselves could make me turn back!"
"Of course, of course," Lacua chuckled, rubbing the back of his head in mock apology. "Forgive me, Master Lucius, for overstepping."
Lucius let out a sharp exhale, his expression hardening as he turned his attention back to the dark marble. The hesitation returned—if only for a fraction of a second—before he made his decision. Without another word, he plucked the artifact from the box and swallowed it whole.
The moment it passed his lips, an overwhelming force erupted within him. Dark energy surged violently through his body like a raging storm, consuming every fiber of his being. He barely managed to stifle a cry as searing pain exploded in his chest, his muscles spasming uncontrollably. His very soul felt like it was being torn apart, shredded by the sheer intensity of the raw, unfiltered magic.
'This… This power…'
Lucius gritted his teeth, refusing to fall to his knees. He forced himself to remain standing, his body trembling as he anchored his mind by repeating his goal over and over in his mind.
Minutes passed before the chaotic surge of power finally settled. The pain, however, remained—a relentless torment he forced himself to ignore through sheer willpower. And then, a miracle occurred as the voice of the world echoed in his ears.
<
Lucius's eyes widened in shock before a slow, triumphant smile stretched across his face. As the pain gradually subsided, understanding flooded his mind. His newly awakened skill allowed him to absorb and process magicules just like a monster.
'So, this greedy little merchant tried to sell me a cursed artifact—one designed for monsters and lethally poisonous to humans,' Lucius mused, his fury barely concealed beneath his composed exterior. 'Still, now isn't the time to deal with him. Once Towa and that demon are under my control… I'll make sure Lacua pays for his deceit.'
"Now then," Lucius said, his voice smoother than before, dripping with newfound confidence. "I need a favor from you."
Lacua raised an eyebrow, feigning intrigue. "Oh? And what might that be?"
"You will go and apprehend the blonde-haired woman who is staying in the castle," Lucius ordered. "Don't worry—Doctor Chikuan will accompany you to ensure there are no… complications."
"Well, if it's just one human, I doubt we'll have much trouble," Lacua said, his ever-present smirk widening. Even as he spoke, his mind was already working several steps ahead, weaving the perfect plan to manipulate the Demon Lord who had come to save this nation—into being the one to destroy it instead. "Isn't that right, Mister Chikuan?"
Chikuan, ever composed, merely adjusted his glasses, the faint glint hiding the quiet amusement in his gaze. There was no need for words—he understood all too well what his fellow demon was scheming.
"Very well then, let's not waste any more time," Lucius said, his malicious grin widening. His gaze burned with cruel anticipation as he turned toward the dungeon exit. "I want to see that demon's face when he returns from the battlefield… only to find his wife and unborn child at my mercy."
A deep, twisted chuckle rumbled from his throat before growing into full, sinister laughter, his voice echoing through the underground chamber like a death knell. His steps were slow, and deliberate, as he strode forward, his aura thick with confidence and cruelty.
Lacua watched in silence, his own amusement simmering beneath a mask of mock servitude. He would let Lucius believe he was in control... for now.
But as they moved, so too did the shadows.
Unseen. Unheard.
Stirring with the burning fury of their own.
To be contained...