B1 The demon lord's attendant sighs during the meeting

Walking down a long corridor.

A small back is ahead of me, slightly to the side.

About two heads shorter than me.

This results in a noticeably slower pace compared to mine.

As a result, I must move more slowly than usual.

An inconvenience, yet I cannot overtake.

Because the girl walking ahead is, in fact, the current demon lord.

Traversing the long corridor with deliberate steps, we arrive before a single door.

There, the demon lord halts.

To be honest, I do not wish to open this door.

I do not wish to, yet I cannot avoid it.

I forcibly swallow the sigh rising in my throat and push the door open.

Then, I yield the path to the demon lord and bow deeply.

The Demon Lord entered the room without so much as a glance in my direction, as though it were expected.

Confirming the Demon Lord’s entry, I follow closely behind.

Close the door silently, without sound.

The interior was, as expected, a conference chamber.

A circular table occupied the center of the room, with the high seat reserved for the Demon Lord at its core.

Ten individuals, both male and female, were already seated around the table.

Half of them rose upon the Demon Lord’s arrival.

The other half remained seated.

The issue is that among those who stayed seated, my younger brother is included.

Push the sigh rising in my throat back down.

Pull the Demon Lord’s chair forward and gesture for him to take his seat.

The Demon Lord did not deign to glance at me, seating himself with a careless, graceless thud into the chair.

I did not miss the few faces among the assembled that twisted in displeasure.

The Demon Lord likely did not miss it either.

He was enjoying their reaction—expected, given his nature.

I find it distasteful, but showing my own expression now could lead to unpredictable remarks later.

Maintaining a poker face is the most effective response to this Demon Lord.

"Then, let the meeting begin. Balt."

"Hm."

The Demon Lord's signal to commence.

My brief reply.

To be clear, once this signal is given, the Demon Lord's role ends.

All proceedings, all administration—entirely under my direction.

Technically, it is imposed upon me—but still, mine.

"Then, let us begin with the reports from each sector. Report in order, starting with the First Army."

As per the usual flow of this meeting, reports on military activities deployed across various regions were heard.

The one who rose from their seat at my words was the commander of the Arugnera First Legion, a general who had held their position since the time of the previous Demon King.

Lord Argnera may appear youthful to human eyes, but in truth, he is an elder among the long-lived demonkind.

A person of such strength and capacity that it is puzzling why they do not serve as the Demon Lord.

The First Army has completed preparations for the assault on the Qusorion Fortress, directly facing the Lengzant Empire. Logistics and deployment are finalized. Deployment may proceed at any time upon command. This concludes the report.

Lord Argner, who dispenses with unnecessary reports and concludes matters directly.

A hint of her straightforward and resilient nature is visible.

"The Second Army is the same. However, if I may have a little more time, the covert operations might bear fruit."

The next to rise from their seat after Lord Argner was a strikingly beautiful woman.

Saratria, Commander of the Second Army.

She belonged to the succubus race, among the most seductive of the demonkind.

Covert operations—likely referring to her particular talents.

"How long will it take?"

"Perhaps two or three days at the earliest."

"Proceed, provided it does not impede the advance."

"Thank you."

A subtle, breathless shiver nearly betrayed her as she offered a sultry smile, then seated herself.

Yet even after Saratria sat, the Third Army Commander remained reluctant to rise.

"Kogou, Commander of the Third Army."

"Aah. So it's war, then?"

The massive Kogou spoke, shrinking his frame slightly in response to my call.

"Is war unavoidable, then?"

It cannot be avoided. If it could be avoided, we would.

Aah. So it’s unavoidable after all?

As Kogou continued to insist, I was about to reply with a weary tone when another voice cut through the room.

"Unavoidable. However, Kogou, Third Army Commander—should you truly wish to avoid war, there is a method."

The Demon Lord.

A cruel, mischievous smile was fixed upon his face, as if he had just conceived a malicious jest.

"W-what’s this?"

"Simple. Let the entire Third Army become the world’s foundation."

Kogou froze at the Demon Lord’s words.

"What’s wrong? That would avoid war."

"S-sorry. I won’t say it again. Please, forgive me."

"Kogou, learn from this. Do not speak rashly again. Report status."

Before the Demon Lord could open his mouth again to press Kogou further, I stepped in without delay.

"All proceeding as planned."

"Good. Next."

The Demon Lord's expression showed slight dissatisfaction, but this would suffice.

The Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Armies reported without issue.

The turn of the Seventh Army Commander arrived.

Yet the Seventh Army Commander—my younger brother, Broo—showed no intention of rising.

"Broo."

"Brother, I just can't accept it."

Crossing his arms, Broo leaned back, voice bitter.

"Why is it some random woman from nowhere who's now the Demon Lord, and not you—me, who's led the Demon Clan all this time? Doesn't make sense!"

"Broo."

"You're my brother, aren't you? Why are you bowing to some woman like that? She doesn't strike me as someone worthy of your loyalty!"

"Insolent! There is no greater disrespect toward the Demon Lord than this!"

Daraud, Fifth Army Commander, erupted in fury, releasing pent-up resentment.

Brow and Daraud were incompatible by nature—frequent clashes were inevitable.

Each time, bystanders intervened. This time, no one stepped in.

Some aligned with Brow, others with Daraud, most remained neutral.

The commanders' reactions reflected this division.

Regardless of personal feelings, all present chose to observe.

"Brow! Regardless of who the Demon Lord may be, our kind follows the Demon Lord by the world’s natural order! Have you forgotten that!?"

"Who cares about that! That woman? A joke! I haven’t even seen her do anything!"

Can you truly believe we are permitted to question the Lord of Demons’ thoughts!? The Lord of Demons possesses profound, unfathomable designs beyond our comprehension!

That’s not thought— that’s surrendering thought entirely! Just because it’s the Demon Lord’s command doesn’t mean we must obey blindly! You, who cannot think for yourself, don’t lecture me!

You dare call me foolish!?

The two exchange sharp retorts, leaving the Sixth Division Commander, Hyui, twisting his youthful face in mild irritation between them.

The other division commanders observe the unfolding.

Among them, the Fourth Division Commander’s mind remains unreadable—even to me.

Melazophis, Fourth Division Commander, stands motionless, his face pale and expressionless.

Among the unpredictable commanders, he remains the most enigmatic.

Monitoring the movements closely, but no suspicious actions detected at present.

"Excellent!"

Finally, Broo reaches for the weapon.

Dorado follows suit, but his hand never makes contact.

"Wha— my body…"

"Can't move!?!"

Both bodies remain frozen, ignoring their owners' will.

"Sorry, but could you two refrain from fighting over trivial matters?"

The exact words of the very demon lord whose quarrel caused this.

Astonishment fills the room.

It was not only the two immobilized individuals.

They do not understand how the demon lord halted their movements.

Nor is this surprising.

The demon lord has consistently avoided revealing his power.

The force restraining them now is a thread so fine it is invisible.

This thread extends from behind each of their necks.

A marionette's string.

Those bound by this thread become puppets of the Demon Lord.

It applies not only to living beings.

As far as I know, the Demon Lord can control ten battle-designed puppets simultaneously with this thread, eliminating enemies in one strike.

Beyond that, I know nothing.

The Demon Lord has not yet revealed all his capabilities to me.

The Demon Lord is not inept, as Broth claims.

The Demon Lord is not a Demon Lord because he bears the title.

He is a Demon Lord because he possesses the capacity to be one.

"If you prove too dull, I will kill you myself."

A grotesque smile.

No one in this room dared oppose the Demon Lord upon seeing it.

The puppet strings were pulled.

Both were forcibly seated.

The strings then detached, and only then did their bodies regain freedom.

"Apologies."

"..."

While Dalaro turned pale and apologized, Brow had nothing to say.

"Then, the report from the Eighth Army."

As an elder brother, it might be harsh—but the unresponsive younger brother was left unattended.

"Nothing to worry about."

Lars, commander of the Eighth Army, stated it plainly.

This man showed little interest in matters concerning the Demon King.

Instead, he had various issues elsewhere—but those were irrelevant here, so it was acceptable.

The problem lay with the remaining two.

"The Ninth Army is advancing without issue."

The man spoke in a single word—black.

A black armor fused to his body.

A faintly dark complexion visible on his face.

Hair as black as his armor.

Only one feature stood out—his eyes, unnaturally red.

His name was unknown.

He was known only as Black.

"The Tenth Army, no issues."

And beside that man in black sat a girl of the exact opposite—white.

Her robe was pure white.

Her exposed skin was unnaturally pale.

Her long hair, braided into three strands, was white.

All color was white, since her eyes were closed.

This woman, too, had no known name.

Only called White.

Two individuals added by the Demon Lord to the leadership of the demon army.

Their origins remained unknown.

Unknown, yet conceivable.

These two were likely the rulers.

The ones said to manipulate the world from behind the scenes—rulers.

Two of them.

How the Demon Lord had acquired such individuals, I had no means of knowing.

Yet, their overwhelming strangeness inevitably stirred unease.

"Uh-huh. Everything's going smoothly."

The Demon Lord nodded, pleased.

"Then shall we begin the war?"

And with those words, the war between demons and humans—perhaps the worst in history—began in silence.

I let out a quiet sigh, aware of the fact.

New development: entering the main arc. A brief pause in the primary narrative, now transitioning into the Demon-Human War arc.