I was standing outside a guest room within the castle.
I knocked on the door and called inward.
"Come in."
"Yeah."
I heard the familiar voice of my old friend.
I opened the door.
Logan was inside, seated in a chair.
A bottle of fruit wine was on the table before him.
It was rare to see him drinking.
I didn't have that strong an impression of him as a drinker, but perhaps that was his mood tonight.
I asked Logan,
"How are you feeling?"
"Much better. Sorry for the trouble I've caused."
"Don't worry about it. I was the one who pushed you too hard. Far from trouble, I'm grateful."
Logan had been drained from the search for the secret stones.
Even with the mana supply from me, physical and mental fatigue accumulates.
Through it all, he had fought hard.
I felt only gratitude; blame was out of the question.
I moved to the window of the room and gazed over the Royal Capital at night.
The districts facing the street were brightly lit by magical fixtures.
A few light sources were still visible in the more distant areas.
With the population growing, the unused plots of land were steadily diminishing.
I turned my gaze away from the window and addressed Logan.
"I intend to seize the secret stone tonight."
"You'll move the Demon Lord's army?"
"I've left the formation to Grom and Henry. We'll launch an all-out invasion, secure the stone, and withdraw before dawn."
The deadline set by the Great Spirit is tomorrow.
There is no luxury of a formal invasion starting from the border.
The plan was to teleport in with an elite force, launch a surprise assault while simultaneously increasing the number of undead to sow chaos, and steal the secret stone amidst the confusion.
Nothing special. It was the same tactic as always.
The problem would be the weapons held by the Nation of Magical Artifice.
They have golems and other cutting-edge weaponry.
The weapons being developed in the research institute hadn't reached practical application yet.
In terms of arms and armaments, we were at a disadvantage.
Against golems using firearms and defensive magic, using golems of our own as shields seemed the best counter.
In a major city, there would be no shortage of undead.
We would press the frontline forward while bombarding them with long-range magic.
If every executive participated, we could fight on equal or better terms against the forces of the Nation of Magical Artifice.
Logan murmurs while tipping back his fruit wine.
"...If only the Great Spirit would be appeased once we retrieve the secret stone."
"If it runs rampant, I will stop it with everything I have," I declare.
The opponent is likely a superior existence, but I have no intention of losing.
At least if it's a split-off part, I can deal with it.
Even if the main body manifests, I can consecrate the vast number of undead scattered throughout the lands to the Valley of the Dead, strengthening my authority.
Even a high spirit would not escape unscathed then.
Miasma corruption works on incorporeal entities as well.
If they stand in the way of my ideal, I will annihilate them, regardless of what they are.
That is the duty of being an enemy to the world.
Logan's mouth twists slightly into a bitter smile.
"A fitting answer for a Demon Lord. You're more confident than when you were human."
"I've gained the power to destroy the world. Confidence comes whether you want it or not."
Without confidence, one cannot be a Demon Lord.
I inherited that man's ideal.
I could not afford to show a pathetic front.
That was when an anomaly occurred in the barrier deployed over the Royal Capital.
Defensive magic was suddenly shattered, and a tremendous magical response forced its way through.
It was approaching the royal castle at tremendous speed.
"Dwight."
"I know."
Logan's face hardened, and I nodded in response.
He had sensed it too.
The identity of our visitor was already known to us.
No one could forget such a powerful magical aura.
I simultaneously prepared multiple spells, ready to attack or defend at any moment.
Then, outside the window, the Great Spirit appeared.
She phased through the glass and stepped into the room.
"Current Demon King. Have you found the Secret Stone?"
"The deadline was supposed to be tomorrow."
I replied with a note of reproach.
The Great Spirit's appearance was extremely inconvenient for our side.
Her mere presence exerted a massive influence.
Being infiltrated like this without permission forced me to be wary.
By now, the castle town was probably in an uproar.
No doubt, it was in a state of great confusion.
The Great Spirit, however, was unmoved and continued speaking.
"I couldn't wait any longer, so I came. Was I unwelcome?"
"Not at all. It is an honor for our nation to be visited personally by a Great Spirit."
I could hardly speak my true thoughts, so I offered pleasantries.
My tone came out a bit sardonic, but the Great Spirit didn't notice.
She tilted her head. "Is the search for the mystic stone progressing?"
"An estimate has been made. It should be recoverable by tomorrow."
I would not specify the exact location.
If the Great Spirit learned it, she would race headlong to the Magiccraft Nation.
And in her fury, she would ravage the people.
An extremely undesirable outcome.
This time, the damage inflicted on the Magiccraft Nation was to be calibrated by us.
While we would cause some destruction, we did not intend to leave it in a state from which it could not recover.
But if the Great Spirit went berserk, that plan would fall apart.
The retrieval of the mystic stone had to be executed by the Demon Lord's army alone.
"I see. I will trust your word."
The Great Spirit withdrew without argument.
For now, she appeared to trust me.
Otherwise, she would have pressed for details.
It was precisely because she believed we could obtain the mystic stone that the Great Spirit maintained a mild demeanor.
Judging from our exchange, the Great Spirit had come to check on the progress of the stone's recovery.
She must have been consumed by worry.
This was a lapse in my consideration for not having informed her of the interim developments.
However, her purpose was already fulfilled.
Once I understood that the search for the secret stones was proceeding smoothly, I should have left the Royal Capital.
Just as I was thinking this, the Great Spirit stood before me.
She addressed me in a flat tone.
"Demon King. Do you have a little time? I wish to speak with you."
"Ah—I was just thinking the same thing."
I replied quickly.
I wanted her to leave soon, but if I said so honestly, she would take offense.
To avoid combat as much as possible, I had to engage her in conversation.
Moreover, I was genuinely curious about what the Great Spirit wished to discuss with me.
This was a rare opportunity; perhaps attempting dialogue would be worthwhile.
Hearing my answer, the Great Spirit turned her gaze toward Logan at the table.
"What a coincidence. Then let's change locations. Elf chief, will you also join us?"
"...I'll decline. I'm still recuperating."
Logan said, his expression bitter.
I understood in an instant.
He had sensed trouble and was escaping.
True, Logan was exhausted, but not to the point of being unable to converse.
He likely wanted to extract himself from the situation of talking with the Great Spirit as quickly as possible.
It was an odd decision for an elf, who supposedly had high affinity with spirits.
"…………"
I wordlessly shifted my gaze to Logan.
He made no effort to look back at me.
Instead, his eyes fell upon the last of the fruit wine.
"That can't be helped, then. Let's speak properly another time. You, come with me alone."
"...Fine."
As the Great Spirit slipped out through the window, I followed in its wake.
Refusal here was impossible.
Glancing back into the room, I saw Logan giving a quiet wave.
I would have to speak with him later.
(Truly, what a reliable old friend.)
Swallowing the words that rose in my throat, I pursued the Great Spirit as it drifted into the night sky.