Drunk

Demon Lord's perspective

"Uuu. Hic... Huh...!"

"Whehehe!"

Fermyna crouched on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Shiro turned away, laughing unnaturally.

Chaos.

How did this happen again?

It began—yes, when I stole expensive wine from Dustyn.

I invited Shiro to a pajama party. Then dragged Fermyna along. A modest drinking session began.

Yes.

Why did I even let Shiro drink? I keep asking myself if this was suicide.

Dustyn’s fault for hoarding good wine in secret.

And also, the watchful eye over Fermyna—so she wouldn’t do something reckless.

If this child is intelligent, she should understand that the proposal Shiro made to the Divine Word Church this time is disadvantageous to the Demon Clan.

And from past interactions, and the existence of the system, she should also recognize that Shiro is not aligned with the Demon Clan.

Fermyna should have realized that Shiro is merely using the Demon Clan for her own purposes—and that once their utility ends, Shiro would discard them without hesitation.

That is half correct, half incorrect.

Shiro does indeed use the Demon Clan—but has no intention of abandoning them at this time.

If Shiro truly intended to abandon them, the traitorous Second Division Commander would not still be alive.

But Fermyna cannot be made aware of that.

Therefore, should she conclude that Shiro poses a threat to the Demon Clan, she might turn against Shiro.

She would not win, though. Not even a chance.

I have investigated Fermina’s background.

Shiro likely feels as though he rescued a stray dog, but this girl was born with high lineage and innate ability.

Born into a noble house.

Currently, she is the fiancée of Wald, the heir of another noble house now reduced to ruin under Sophia’s influence.

Raised since childhood to serve the declining Demon Clan with absolute dedication, she has lived by this creed as a true noble.

She possesses no hesitation in eliminating any being that threatens the future of the Demon Clan.

That is why she perceived Sophia, who spreads fascination throughout the academy, as a threat—and acted to forcibly remove her.

Alas, her efforts were met with no resistance at all. The gap in power was too great.

The concern was how Fermina-chan would respond to this proposal.

This proposal served no benefit to the demon race.

If reconstruction after system collapse was the goal, the lost technology in the elven village should not be handed over to humans, and surrendering the fortress—gained at great cost—without resistance would be unacceptable from a defensive standpoint.

Fermina-chan would undoubtedly seek to stop it at all costs.

And with the matter involving Sophia-chan, there was a risk she might launch an assault on Shiro-chan in a fit of rage.

Old bloodlines of demons who worship strength are intelligent, yet prone to impulsive, blunt reactions.

For now, I observed the situation while offering her wine—unexpectedly, she turned out to be a crybaby.

"Uuu... What do you want me to do? What do you want me to do? What did I do?"

From the moment they clinked glasses and finished the first drink, this has been the pattern.

In the background, a heavy, dark shadow seems to loom.

Yes.

After being subjected to various maneuvers under Shiro’s guidance, they’ve learned the true nature of political scheming.

Moreover, having learned the extent of Shiro’s power, they’re now trapped in a dead end—no matter how hard they try to act, there’s no way out.

They’re speaking aloud, grumbling about it, right in front of the person themselves, fueled by alcohol.

This is quite the spectacle.

And the source of it? Ever since a moment ago, they’ve been pulling out objects from another realm—unfiltered, unshown in any public broadcast—stuffing them into their mouth, chewing them with exaggerated noises.

Wow, that’s quite the thing, isn’t it?

My instincts are loudly warning me that contact with Shiro right now is dangerous.

I’m curious, honestly, about what exactly they’re eating—but curiosity is a loss.

Lose, and it might mean the end of my existence.

Should be drinking fine wine, yet I can’t taste a thing!

Fermyna sinking into the ground as if merging with it, and Shiro, now the greatest danger in this world.

Something’s wrong.

I imagined pajama parties would be more like this—cheerful, giggling, light-hearted fun.

Why did it become this?

And will I see tomorrow’s sunrise?

Pope: "My wine—"