The Grand Duke of the Poison Snake Hell had recently heard the rumors.
*'Dantalion, they say. The seventy-first ranked Demon Lord, the lowest of the low… But apparently, he's quite the force to be reckoned with.'*
Lately, Demon Lord Dantalion had been meeting the Grand Dukes of Hell one after another. In itself, that was nothing remarkable. However, after each meeting, the Grand Dukes had become inexplicably cautious.
He had heard that the Grand Duke of the Poison Snake Hell had met Dantalion personally—what was he actually like? But when he asked, the Grand Dukes fell silent, one and all. They didn't want to talk about it. They didn't want to think about it. That was the atmosphere.
The Grand Dukes of Hell were, without question, the supreme ruling class of Demonkin. For men of that stature to balk at speaking plainly—that was no ordinary matter.
*'How interesting.'*
The Grand Duke pressed the other Grand Dukes for details. After a long silence, they managed to squeeze out a single line each. The wording differed slightly, but the message was unanimous:
*Don't underestimate him.*
Frankly, the Grand Duke's enthusiasm dipped at that one sentence. His interest in Dantalion hadn't vanished—but "don't underestimate him" meant that the other Grand Dukes had underestimated Dantalion at first.
*'Fools.'*
Rank seventy-first, so they let their guard down? Rather, someone ranked seventy-first had ridden that very ranking to become a central pillar of the Crescent Alliance Army—so much the reason not to let one's guard down. That these men, Grand Dukes no less, hadn't seen that coming was nothing short of disappointing.
The Grand Duke considered. He would not underestimate Dantalion. The man surely had some hidden card, a trick up his sleeve.
But he had no way of knowing what that card was. Not at the moment, at least. Until he figured it out, he had to maintain the vigilance of a lion.
Very well—let him test his opponent's measure.
"Hold the grandest ball possible."
The other Grand Dukes had probably sat down for a one-on-one private talk with Dantalion. Fools. A Demon Lord could read the emotions of Demonkin. Going one-on-one only laid one's own psyche bare. He would prepare as many people as possible, creating enough noise that Dantalion couldn't focus on reading him.
"Summon every celebrated noble lady from across the Poison Snake Hell."
Tiger Tribe, Cat Tribe, Deer Tribe, even Elves—beneath the Grand Duke of the Poison Snake Hell served countless counts and viscounts. He would gather the most renowned beauties among their daughters. He didn't genuinely expect Dantalion to swoon and lose his composure over female beauty, but men were, by nature, weakened by women.
Surrounded by gorgeous women chattering ceaselessly, could anyone maintain clear-headed focus? Even if he could, small cracks would inevitably appear—and the Grand Duke intended to exploit every last one of them.
"The finest musicians. Gather the best chefs, the best jesters."
He would shut down every sense—hearing, taste, sight. The mind was ultimately tethered to the body. If the body relaxed, the mind followed.
The Grand Duke spared no expense in preparing this ball, pouring a full five thousand gold into it. The Grand Duke himself led the preparations. The loyalty of those serving beneath him went without saying—practically the entire household had been mobilized for the event.
He would not grudge five thousand gold to set a single trap. The saying that even a lion uses its full strength to catch a rabbit was made for exactly this kind of occasion.
The day of the ball arrived. Noble Demonkin from every corner of the Poison Snake Hell poured in.
The stated purpose was "a fundraising gathering where everyone contributes what they can for the Crescent Alliance Army's war effort." Demon Lord Dantalion was attending as the representative of the Crescent Alliance. That was the cover story.
"It has been far too long, Your Grace. I trust you have been well in the interim."
"Oh! Count Lombach. I am grateful you could attend the ball."
"Your Grace! It warms my heart to see you in such fine health."
"Viscount Baruth, you grow more dashing by the day—I can only envy."
Stock pleasantries. Fleeting smiles and idle chatter.
The Grand Duke observed the nobles buzzing with excitement over this rare, grand-scale ball, and laughed coldly inside. They had no idea what the true purpose of the evening was. The odds of anyone here wanting to curry favor with Dantalion were vanishingly small.
The Demon Realm was the Demon Realm. The continent was the continent. For the noble Demonkin who wielded power in the Demon Realm, the Crescent Alliance Army was someone else's problem. That was how they saw it…
*'Which is precisely why you'll remain nothing more than counts and barons for eternity.'*
After how many nobles had paid their respects, the herald at last raised his voice and called out the name everyone had been waiting for.
"Rank seventy-first! Demon Lord Dantalion has arrived!"
Every eye turned to the entrance of the ballroom. A man dressed entirely in black strode in. Beside him, escorted at his side, walked a girl in a red dress. Pink hair. So that was the succubus rumored to be Dantalion's confidant.
*'To bring a low-ranking Demonkin to an occasion like this.'*
The Grand Duke's mind raced. This was a ball attended by the elite. Bringing a lower-ranked succubus with no title and no fame as one's partner was neither proper nor sensible. There had to be some hidden intent behind it… The Grand Duke spread a smile across his face.
"Lord Dantalion."
He bowed deeply in greeting.
"I cannot imagine a greater honor than having you grace my humble ball."
"I believe I have been using the word 'humble' incorrectly all this time."
Dantalion smiled back.
"Just the entrance was splendid and brimming with elegance—I could only stand in admiration. Grand Duke! I am equally delighted to be invited to such an affair."
"You flatter me."
*What to say,* the Grand Duke pondered.
*'He's more ordinary than I expected.'*
For a Demon Lord, he lacked gravitas. His bearing didn't inspire confidence. His narrow shoulders gave an impression of weakness, and his slightly hunched posture was hardly flattering. He clearly wasn't accustomed to noble etiquette either.
…And this man was supposed to be the Crescent Alliance's new cornerstone?
The Grand Duke scoffed inwardly.
*'So that's why they all insisted: don't underestimate him.'*
With such a feeble appearance, it was only natural to let one's guard down. The other Grand Dukes had probably underestimated Dantalion based on his looks and paid the price. Pathetic, truly. Don't be deceived by appearances; pay attention to what lies beneath. That was politics 101.
The Grand Duke's eyes glinted darkly.
*'You won't fool me, Demon Lord.'*
Maintaining a practiced composure, he spoke.
"Your Grace. Please enjoy the ball to your heart's content."
"Thank you for your hospitality."
Dantalion flashed a broad smile.
"Well then—let's see what this evening has to offer."
Four hours after the ball began.
The Grand Duke was sunk in deep contemplation. He glanced toward one side of the ballroom. There, Dantalion sat surrounded by noble ladies, laughing heartily. The ladies, too, burst into laughter, apparently having heard some delightful jest.
*'Is that man… truly as formidable as they say?'*
For four straight hours, Dantalion had been enjoying the ball with complete sincerity. He danced his first waltz with his succubus partner, then proceeded to invite the noble ladies one by one, reveling in the festivities. He changed partners every time. He never danced with the same partner twice in succession. A man of no restraint.
*'How long does he intend to keep cavorting with women?'*
Even a lecher had his limits.
Tonight's ball was crawling with the Demon Realm's heavyweights. A Demon Lord with any sense would be trying to speak with them, not dally with women. But Dantalion was thoroughly enchanted by the noble ladies and showed not the slightest interest in mingling with the Demon Realm's power players.
This way, none of the men could approach Dantalion either.
As though he were genuinely enjoying the ball…
*'No.'*
The Grand Duke shook his head.
*'That's an act too. A scheme to lull me into letting my guard down… Do you think I'd fall for that?'*
The Grand Duke waited patiently, believing that eventually Dantalion would break away from the women and come his way.
Six hours after the ball began, Dantalion hadn't budged.
*'Damn it—that's no act!'*
The Grand Duke gritted his teeth. It was almost time to bring the ball to a close. The nobles and the ladies were exhausted. Even if Dantalion decided to make his move now, there simply wasn't enough time.
"I must be excused."
In the end, the Grand Duke had no choice but to move first. He excused himself from the nobles he had been speaking with and walked over to where Dantalion sat. The ladies spotted him first and hastily offered their respects. Dantalion noticed the Grand Duke belatedly.
"Oh! Grand Duke, this has been a truly splendid ball."
"You honor me. I do hope I haven't been intruding on Your Grace's enjoyment."
"Not at all. Come—sit here, Grand Duke."
The Grand Duke smiled. *Fool! Did you think I came here to chit-chat with a bunch of young girls?*
"That's a tempting offer. However, Your Grace—there is something I must discuss with you. If you would allow me, I would like to guide you somewhere rather more… interesting."
"Is that so? Hmm. Very well, I suppose."
Dantalion turned to the ladies and gave a playful little bow.
"Ladies, this has been delightful. Whenever you visit the continent, do come to my Demon Lord's Castle. I'll make sure you have a wonderful evening."
The ladies laughed shyly and bid Dantalion farewell. Watching this, the Grand Duke's stomach twisted. He wanted to believe it wasn't true, but the doubt gnawed at him—perhaps Dantalion really was keeping a succubus as his partner for *that* reason.
The Grand Duke led Dantalion to a private room. It was a small chamber, roughly ten meters across. Completely devoid of luxury, with only a wooden table and two chairs standing in it. A thorough soundproofing spell had been cast—the perfect setting for a confidential exchange.
"It's rather modest, I'm afraid."
"No—I was rather in the mood for a rest myself."
The two sat down across from each other.
"Your Grace, I expect we will raise no less than six thousand gold from this fundraiser."
"How splendid. I shall certainly put the funds you so generously provide to good use."
"……"
That was all?
Standing before one of the supreme powers of the Demon Realm—and he had nothing more to say?
The Grand Duke could hold back no longer. He went on the offensive.
"It seems, Your Grace, that you have little interest in the Demon Realm's nobility. At the ball, you spent the entire time with the ladies… Heh. Many of the nobles around me were disappointed. They had all been hoping for a chance to speak with you."
"Ah, is that so? I suppose I've been rather rude, then."
Dantalion said it as though it were a genuine apology.
"But I have no interest in them. They're all going to die anyway."
"…Excuse me?"
Dantalion wiped his neck with a handkerchief as he spoke. His tone was so utterly casual that the Grand Duke blurted out the question before he could stop himself. Dantalion smiled.
"I said—they're all going to die, Grand Duke."
In that instant, the Grand Duke felt the air around them go deathly still.
It was entirely different from a moment ago. The smile was the same. The languid, unhurried tone was the same. And yet the quality of the air had shifted. The Grand Duke rearranged his expression without missing a beat.
"All going to die… well, I suppose Demonkin do die eventually. Even with their long lifespans, they're mortals compared to the Demon Lords."
Dantalion chuckled softly.
"You knew that, and you still ask? Or do you genuinely not understand? Well—it hardly matters."
He continued dabbing at his neck with his handkerchief. After that, he said nothing further.
The Grand Duke whispered to himself:
*'Stay calm.'*
It was bluster. A threat. There was nothing dangerous here. All it confirmed was that Dantalion had been putting on an act at the ball—exactly as he'd predicted. That was all.
—But "they're all going to die"—what on earth did that mean?
"Your Grace, if I have given any offense, please tell me. I shall make my apologies at once."
"Grand Duke—do you know how the Crescent Alliance Army is faring at present?"
The abrupt question caught the Grand Duke off guard, but he did not falter.
"I have heard with great honor that things are turning in favor of our Demon Lord's army. My congratulations."
"Half right, and half wrong."
"Pardon?"
Dantalion smiled. This time, it was unmistakably a cold sneer.
"The Demon Lord's army is winning. But what do you mean by 'our' Demon Lord's army? What exactly are you congratulating me on?"
"I am humbly confused… Your Grace's words are beyond my poor understanding."
"What I mean, Grand Duke, is that the Demon Lord's army will never be on your side."
Dantalion shot the Grand Duke a sidelong glance as he spoke.
"Do you know where the Demon Lord's army will go once it has conquered the continent? Straight back to the Demon Realm. The army will subjugate the Demon Realm and proclaim that the sole ruler of the entire world is none other than the Demon Lord alone. For the very first target of subjugation to be called 'ours'—isn't that laughable?"
"…!"
The Grand Duke's heart seized.