Demon Lord
His plan had been proceeding smoothly. He had successfully manipulated the humans, guiding them exactly where he needed them to go.
All that remained was to orchestrate a bloody conflict—a hunting ground of souls, richly aged and colored by the tragedy and hatred it would produce.
And yet, the conflict had ended in an instant, and all the souls had already been reaped.
He checked in disbelief, but the situation was exactly as reported.
This was supposed to be a stage that *that person* had so carefully prepared for him.
In this conflict between humans and monsters, Clayman had planned to simultaneously achieve his awakening as a true Demon Lord and recruit high-ranking demons as subordinates.
That was precisely why he had no sentimental attachment to his useless subordinate Mjurran—he had intended to dispose of her once everything was settled.
And yet, now he couldn't even reach her. The Curse he had placed on her had been lifted, and Mjurran had apparently been freed.
This too only deepened Clayman's confusion.
But even that had been tolerable.
Fortunately, he still had his strongest trump card: his pawn, Demon Lord Milim.
And so, to stoke
The joint proposal from himself, Frey, and Milim had been approved without issue. He planned to use the occasion to declare a subjugation against the Slime who lorded over the monster town, denouncing it as a false claimant to the title of Demon Lord.
This was his scheme precisely because he was forbidden from marching the Demon Lord Army near human settlements without authorization.
By seizing control of this subjugation council, he would secure the right to invade the Monster Nation.
Then, he would mobilize his forces and trample the surrounding nations as well.
Against the high-ranking demons of the Monster Nation, he planned to unleash Milim to crush them.
Just a few days ago, he might have been able to handle it alone, but with his master's ascension to Demon Lord, her high-ranking demon subordinates had apparently acquired various new powers.
Now, he regretted the failure of his initial plan.
But if he could simply unleash Milim and dominate whoever survived, that would be enough.
However...
Suddenly, the reclusive Demon Lord
Frustratingly, this proposal had been accepted without issue.
Naturally, Clayman had objected, but three or more members had approved it as a matter of course.
This meant that all of Clayman's schemes had been undone.
Successfully activating the Banquet of the Demon Lords had, ironically, turned against him.
He couldn't escape this meeting.
Now that the Slime itself was coming, even if he continued to push for subjugation, he'd likely be told to fight it right then and there—and that would be the end of him.
What should he do? What *could* he do?
Clayman desperately racked his brilliant mind, searching for a plan.
Watching his state, Frey let out a faint, mocking smile.
What a pathetic man.
Things were moving faster than she had anticipated.
She hadn't predicted this particular turn of events, but in the end, things seemed likely to work out favorably.
She glanced at Milim standing beside her, but that expressionless, mask-like face betrayed nothing.
Standing there like a beautiful doll, her face completely devoid of any emotion.
Her eyes, however, seemed to shift ever so slightly—toward Frey.
Frey nodded.
*(Yes, I know. I understand, Milim.)*
She replied in her mind, her smile deepening.
And then...
*(Clayman, it seems your life won't be lasting much longer.)*
Frey quietly reviewed the steps ahead.
---
In the depths of an inner sanctum within a realm of eternal night that no one knew of.
Before a beautiful, naked girl with black hair, sealed within an ice coffin.
That person, likewise naked, pressed against the ice coffin with an entranced expression.
*(Oh, beautiful. Oh...)*
Gazing at and admiring the girl in the coffin was that person's secret pleasure.
A lovely girl with silver hair.
Her eyes were Gold-and-Silver Mystic Eyes—emitting a strangely flickering light of blue and red.
Amid that remarkably refined beauty, those eyes stood out as particularly striking, accentuating the girl's gorgeous features.
But what truly caught the eye were...
The two pure-white fangs peeking out from between the girl's lips.
Every time her small lips parted, those snow-white teeth flashed into view.
She was none other than the Ruler of Night—the Queen of Nightmares.
The "Demon Lord" Luminous Valentine.
Even she, a Demon Lord and immensely powerful vampire, could not destroy the ice coffin.
That was because it was not made of ice, but was a mass of pure holy spirit power.
Each time she touched the coffin, burn-like marks appeared on Luminous's skin.
And yet, despite that...
She pressed against the ice coffin without a care.
And it was to her—the reclusive Demon Lord—that news of the Banquet of the Demon Lords' convening arrived.
Unfortunately, someone who rivaled her power had declared their participation.
She still lacked the strength to make enemies of all the Demon Lords.
This vexed her, but there was nothing she could do.
*(Wait for me...)*
She whispered the name of the girl she loved, then withdrew from the inner sanctum.
After her departure, sealed by the vast barrier of her magical power, the sanctum sank into true darkness.
---
Two men faced each other in conversation.
One was a tall, brawny man of imposing stature.
The other was sprawled out languidly, with no spirit whatsoever.
But since this was nothing unusual, the big man conversed with him without complaint.
"So, how long are you planning to stay here? After the Banquet of the Demon Lords, will you set off?"
"Dunno. Too lazy. Can't muster the energy for anything."
The handsome man answered his question with complete lethargy.
But either way...
"Be that as it may, you'll have no choice but to attend the Banquet of the Demon Lords, right? Well, you can figure out what to do after the festivities."
The big man concluded.
Then he gazed up at the sky, enjoying its vastness.
After some time had passed, the handsome man spoke up, as if suddenly remembering.
"By the way,
The big man—no, Dagruel—closed his eyes and considered for a moment.
He was a member of the giant race and the Demon Lord known as the "Wrath of the Earth."
He was ordinarily so mild-mannered that calling him a Demon Lord seemed strange, but once he grew angry, he became unstoppable.
It was said that his combat power increased dramatically when he was furious—a Demon Lord who required careful handling.
Though he had never once grown angry at the words of this close friend of his.
To the handsome man's words, he replied:
"No, those kids are just like I was in my youth. Reckless, looking down on everything, refusing to believe anyone exists stronger than themselves. They even looked down on you,
The handsome man's name was Dino. Of unknown race, he was indistinguishable from a human in appearance.
But he possessed magical power that no human could match.
He'd probably be a decently handsome man if he put his mind to it, but his half-lidded, sleepy eyes ruined the effect entirely.
But he too was one of the Demon Lords—known as the "Wandering King" or the "King of the Sleeping Forest."
He had apparently left his dwelling and was currently in the middle of a wandering journey.
Having exhausted himself along the way, he was being looked after at the home of his close friend Dagruel.
To Dagruel's words, Dino responded:
"Yeah, whatever. That kind of thing doesn't change my worth. More importantly, if they're that bratty, why not bring them along? Your three sons—if you make one of them my subordinate, you'd be able to bring all three."
He meant, of course, to the Banquet of the Demon Lords.
Dagruel considered his words.
And then:
"Would you mind? If they act like fools and die because they don't know their own limits, so be it. Showing them what a true powerhouse looks like—that's education too, I suppose."
He nodded.
His three sons. Rascals who reminded him of his own youth.
The two nodded to each other and began to wrap up the conversation in agreement.
It was like building a campfire in front of a gunpowder magazine, but they hadn't thought that far ahead.
After all, neither of them was any good at thinking things through.
---
On a frozen continent where ice and snow howled without mercy.
In its center, a castle stood resolute.
Surrounded by a permafrost plain—a land that permitted the survival of virtually no living thing, with temperatures plummeting below minus 120 degrees.
A beautiful, fantastical palace rising in such a place.
A demon castle made manifest in this world through unfathomable quantities of magical power.
Its name: the White Ice Palace.
It was the residence of "Demon Lord"
A figure strode casually through its corridors.
Long golden hair, blue eyes. Refined features with sharp, narrow eyes.
Skin so white it seemed transparent.
A man of such beauty that he could be mistaken for a woman.
"Demon Lord"
He moved through the corridor with the natural ease of someone walking through his own castle.
Beyond lay an ornately carved grand door—the entrance to the audience chamber where the castle's master awaited.
Leon's destination was none other than "Demon Lord" Guy Crimson himself.
When Leon stood before the door, two large demons worked together to push the great doors open.
And then:
"Announcing the arrival of 'Demon Lord' Leon Cromwell!"
A beautiful female demon standing just inside the doors declared his arrival in a ringing voice.
Inside, powerful Greater Demons flanked the edges on either side.
Each was a Named demon, possessing abilities that surpassed those of ordinary Greater Demons.
Over two hundred of them stood in two rows.
Named Greater Demons, unlike those who were merely summoned, had obtained physical forms in this world.
Each was comparable to a high-ranking demon.
This meant that there were more than two hundred combatants at or above A-Rank.
But even that...
Was drowned out by the Intimidation of the six demons standing before the throne at the center of the audience chamber, under the gaze of "Demon Lord" Guy Crimson.
They were Named Greater Demon Generals.
Their combat power was enough to overwhelm even high-ranking demons—quasi-Demon Lord-level beings.
And yet...
Even these six demon generals were not permitted free speech in this place.
Standing on either side of "Demon Lord" Guy Crimson—the absolute ruler—were two demons.
Named "Demon Dukes," they alone served as the Demon Lord's voice in this hall.
Demons whose power rivaled that of a Demon Lord.
"Demon Duke"
Leon passed through the center, advancing until he stood directly before the throne.
Only then did Misery and Hilary each drop to one knee.
"It has been too long, Lord Leon."
In identical, beautiful voices, they greeted him.
At the same moment, the throne's master rose.
In this place, only two beings had the right to move.
"It's been a while, my friend, Leon. You've been well, I trust? I'm grateful that you answered my summons!"
A beautiful, resonant voice. Crimson eyes hiding silver stars. Hair the color of burning fire, deeper and richer than blood itself.
He was about the same height as Leon.
Where Leon's beauty was refined and feminine, Guy's was androgynous—a beauty so bewitching it could be called either male or female.
He descended from the raised dais where the throne sat, walking down to where Leon stood.
Then he wrapped his arms around Leon and embraced him.
Without hesitation, he cupped Leon's face and pressed a kiss to his lips.
Leon grimaced and shoved him away.
"Cut it out. I have no interest in men. How many times do I have to tell you?"
He glared at Guy with an exasperated expression.
"Ahaha. Still as impossible as ever. If you wished it, I could become a woman for you, you know? Well, never mind. Let's change locations."
With that, he began walking without waiting for an answer.
This was their usual routine.
In this frozen land, dressed in loose robes with plenty of skin exposed.
Perhaps savoring the memory of Leon's lips, he decorated his bewitching features with a seductive smile.
Crimson lips, a serpentine tongue darting out to lick them...
His presence radiated an intoxicating allure.
An hermaphrodite, for whom both men and women were objects of desire.
He—or perhaps she—was "Demon Lord" Guy Crimson.
The master of this castle, the most powerful and most ancient of all Demon Lords.
Under the title of Dark Emperor, he ruled this continent of permanent frost.
Guy walked ahead without so much as offering to guide Leon.
Leon followed without showing the slightest unease.
Not one of the two hundred demons moved until the two had left the audience chamber.
Because such a thing was not permitted.
All stood with heads bowed, waiting for their sovereign and his guest to depart.
Once Leon had exited, Misery and Hilary rose.
"Dismissed."
They issued the command to their subordinates.
Then they left to prepare tea for their guest.
In this castle, the duty of the supremely positioned "Demon Dukes" was nothing more than attending to their master, "Demon Lord" Guy Crimson.
And that duty took absolute priority over everything else here.
Before earning their master's displeasure, they set to work promptly...
Leon followed Guy to the uppermost floor, to an icy terrace.
Despite being open to the air, not a trace of ice or snow penetrated.
It was an environment optimized for comfort, maintained in perfect harmony.
Of course, Guy himself was immune to the effects of any environment. This meant the room had been adjusted specifically for Leon's comfort.
For all his tendency to look down on others, Guy showed meticulous care toward those he acknowledged as friends.
Thinking *Same as always*, Leon sat in the chair he was offered.
Though it was made of ice, it gave off not the slightest chill.
This too was nothing new.
"So? What's the reason you called me here?"
Leon flung himself roughly into his chair and spoke.
Hilary set tea before them both—when had she prepared it?—without a word.
Misery stood silently at the terrace entrance.
This too was nothing unusual.
They never interrupted Guy's conversation, nor did they speak to Leon.
They were servants. Tools and nothing more.
Not equals—they were not even permitted to show their emotions without being commanded.
If they acted without their master's orders, the consequence was swift death.
That was why, even if Leon were to attack Guy, they would not move on their own.
Guy was the absolute sovereign. To presume concern for his safety would be nothing but impudence.
And so their presence was ignored, and the conversation continued.
"Yeah. You've heard the Banquet of the Demon Lords has been activated, right? If you're going to skip it again this time, I was prepared to drag you there by force."
"Hmm? You know I despise gatherings and the like, don't you? That said, I will attend this time."
"Oh? Good to hear. I was prepared to make you owe me a favor just to get you there. I was even considering whether to let you have me for a night."
"I don't do men. Even with women, I decline anyone other than my preferred partner. Besides, sleeping with you would be nothing but a reward for you."
"What the hell. Don't just— Never mind. If you wanted, I'd become a woman for you. Anyway—what made you decide to attend this time?"
"Yeah..."
Leon paused, then continued.
"The one who proposed it was Clayman. A small fry. What's bothering me is that Milim is among the co-sponsors. And the information about
"Oh. So in your assessment, Rimuru qualifies as a Demon Lord. Interesting—I think the same. As for Milim, that's just her usual game. It's pointless to try to figure out what that woman is thinking. Someone as wise as me can't read a fool's thoughts—that's one of my few weaknesses. The opinions of insects can be ignored, but it was amusing that Ramiris chose to speak up. If she finds someone interesting, I figured I might enjoy myself too."
"...Ramiris, huh? I can't stand that woman. Every time we meet, she needles me. I've lost count of how many times I've wanted to strangle her... But if Ramiris raised the subject, I figured I'd take a look."
"Ahahaha. Hold it right there. If you kill Ramiris, you'll make an enemy of me."
"Fair enough. I don't want to die yet, and I don't see any way I could win against you anyway."
"Hmm? I wouldn't say that. You might have about a one-in-a-million chance of killing me."
"That's not even worth discussing. I have no interest in anything but battles I can win with certainty."
"Stop being modest. There are very few people who can even wound me. The fact that you have even a possibility of killing me makes you quite the powerhouse. Have some confidence."
"Hmph. I have confidence—just not against anyone but you."
There, the conversation came to a natural pause.
Into that delicate silence, a voice cut through.
"My, my. Is your conversation over? Welcome, Lord Leon."
A cool, clear voice that rang like ice.
Walking toward them was a beautiful woman with white hair, matching that voice perfectly.
Snow-white skin. Eyes the color of the deep sea, cold and strangely luminous.
And amid her all-white appearance, the most striking detail: crimson lips.
She walked and spoke without Guy's permission.
That meant she required no such permission—that is to say, she was his equal.
The "Empress of Ice," or more widely known, the "White Ice Dragon
One of only four True Dragons, and the sole subordinate of "Demon Lord" Guy Crimson.
More than a subordinate, she was his right arm—perhaps "partner" would be more accurate.
She existed in an entirely different class from the servants below her.
"Well, well. Velzard. As beautiful as ever, I see."
"Oh my? Even flattery is a delight to hear."
They exchanged pleasantries.
Neither's words contained any genuine feeling.
"Hmph. You two still don't get along, do you?"
Even Guy was exasperated by their persistent animosity.
Normally, this would be the point where a round of barbed remarks would be exchanged...
But this time, Velzard changed the subject.
"Oh, that's right. It seems my 'little brother' has awakened."
She dropped this bombshell with perfect nonchalance.
"Awakened? You mean the Storm Dragon Veldora, who was sealed away? I was told the Hero's seal had dissipated recently?"
"Yes. I had intended to free him if he'd calmed down before that happened... But it was strange that his existence had vanished entirely. Even sealed within the Hero's imaginary space, his presence was powerful enough to influence our world. Perhaps someone swallowed him into an even deeper sub-space."
"Oh... how interesting. So someone broke the Hero's seal. The Unique Skill 'Infinite Prison,' combined with the Hero's uniqueness, made it impossible to dispel through normal skills. Only my skills or one of yours would do. Well, I was planning to free him eventually anyway. But the fact that he's not rampaging despite being released suggests he's weakened somewhat?"
"Yes, he does seem weakened. His reactions are incomparably fainter than before. But it's strange that he's not rampaging—for someone like him, causing chaos was what gave his life meaning."
"Well, regardless. I have no intention of dealing with Veldora. If you want to recruit him as an ally, be my guest. Either way, we'll see each other at the next Banquet of the Demon Lords."
"Leaving already?"
"Yeah. Was there anything else you wanted from me?"
"Now, now, there's no rush. By the way—how are things progressing with your true objective? The 'Specific Summoning'?"
"...That's still in progress. To be honest, I couldn't care less about the Banquet of the Demon Lords or any new Demon Lord. It's just that my collaborator says the summoning experiment was interfered with."
"Oh? By this Rimuru, you mean?"
"Yeah. That's partly why I wanted to take a look. But if Ramiris hadn't been involved, I would have ignored it entirely..."
"I've been meaning to ask—who is this collaborator of yours, exactly?"
"No idea. Summoning an Otherworlder requires massive amounts of Magicules, specific conditions, and a complex web of factors. Even my summoning spell—the more conditions you narrow down, the longer the interval between successful casts. Currently, I can only use it once every sixty-six years. If I narrow conditions further and the next attempt fails, the next interval will probably stretch to ninety-nine years. All I'm doing is having this collaborator handle the summoning in the meantime."
"That's surprisingly timid for you."
"Fail this many times in a row, and you'd feel the same. Even with the 'Blessing of Fortune' I received from Ramiris, I haven't managed to succeed."
"My goodness. Is it really that important?"
"Yeah... To me, it takes priority over everything else in this world."
"If that's the case, then I have nothing more to say. As for your collaborator though—can they be trusted?"
"Trusted? Of course not. I'm merely using them."
"Understood. Coming from me, this may seem odd, but I'd advise you to be careful."
"That's unlike you. But I'll take the advice sincerely. Thank you. Well then, let's meet at the Banquet of the Demon Lords."
With those parting words, Leon departed.
He left a light crystal behind and vanished through spatial teleportation.
Guy watched him go with a wry smile.
"Always in a hurry. That's so like him."
He chuckled softly.
"But for someone as cautious as Leon, that's a rather big blind spot. This collaborator—he doesn't even know their true identity. Should I eliminate them?"
Velzard's voice was as cold as frost.
"Don't bother. If you make an unnecessary move, you'll earn Leon's displeasure. I have no desire to be resented by a friend."
Guy replied without the slightest worry.
For him, Leon was a trustworthy friend, and he had spoken from full knowledge of his character.
More than anyone, Guy understood the depth of Leon's abilities.
"If he ever comes to me for help, that's when I'll lend him a hand."
"Understood."
And with that, the matter was closed.
He had confirmed that even his reclusive friend would attend. He'd essentially dragged him there, but that didn't bother him.
Guy himself had ignored the invitations numerous times before, but he conveniently forgot about that.
It seemed that for the first time in a while, all the Demon Lords would be gathered together.
"This should be entertaining. Are you coming too?"
"Let me think... No, I'll pass. I have no interest in Demon Lords."
"No? Very well. I'll leave the castle in your care."
"Of course. I'll begin preparations at once."
With that, Velzard too took her leave.
Guy remained, gazing at the aurora shimmering over the frozen landscape, his thoughts turning to the Banquet of the Demon Lords.
A Demon Lord pulling strings and scheming in the shadows.
Small fry as he might be, he was still one corner of the Demon Lord establishment—and he was about to crumble.
His reclusive friend had begun to stir again—that too caught his interest.
And the birth of a new Demon Lord.
Exciting. For the first time in centuries, he felt a thrill he hadn't experienced in so long.
The last great war had been populated by small fry and had been tedious. This time, there might be something worth looking forward to.
His thoughts drifted to the Hero. When was the last time one had been confirmed?
Someone had even invaded Leon's castle, apparently—a Hero. Leon had retreated without fighting, but had described the strength as abnormal.
For a human, it wouldn't be surprising if their lifespan had long since expired, but Ramiris had said that particular Hero was "special."
It wouldn't be surprising if they'd found some way to extend their life.
Their movements, too, showed no pattern—appearing before those of great power.
Guy had never seen or met one, but he had always wanted to fight a Hero.
This coming war was going to be something big. It wouldn't just involve monsters—it would draw in holy powers and humans, sparking a great catastrophe.
If so, it wouldn't be strange for a Hero to appear.
The thought of any new Demon Lord had already left Guy's mind.
Because for him, a Demon Lord was simply not a matter of consequence...
*This time, I really want to meet the Hero.* With that thought, Guy let a bewitching smile spread across his face.