"Are you having second thoughts about continuing to be the demon king?"
Logan raises the question.
I shake my head in denial.
"No. That's not it."
I can say with certainty that this is the truth.
As I reflect on my thoughts, I slowly voice them one by one.
"I have no hesitation in aiming for peace itself. As the world's last demon king, I intend to continue my wickedness and tyranny. However, I am wavering in my judgment when it comes to fulfilling my own personal desires."
This was something I'd vaguely been feeling for the past six months.
No, truly, it was probably much longer than that.
I had just been putting a lid on it, refusing to look.
That has surfaced, become a question, and now stands before me.
It was a problem I'd have to face sooner or later.
Logan gazes at the sky as night falls.
He eventually opens his mouth.
"So you can't choose between the fate of the world and your own self."
"...That's right."
I nod, feeling a wave of self-loathing.
Put so clearly, that is exactly it.
I cannot choose only one.
I have various thoughts on the matter, but fundamentally, it comes down to that.
It was the very picture of a fool who couldn't make up his mind.
Recognizing this, I went limp and let my gaze drift lazily toward the sky.
Had I still been human, a dry laugh or two might have escaped me.
"Pitiful, isn't it? Destroying entire nations with overwhelming force, yet brooding over something like this. Can't help but laugh."
"..."
Logan maintained his silence.
His eyes gazed steadily into the distance.
I wasn't seeking consolation. I simply continued my self-mockery regardless.
"I thought I had steeled my resolve from the moment I became the Demon Lord. But in truth, I was half-hearted about it. I acted as though I had dedicated everything to world peace. I want to reunite with her. I want to tell her that I inherited her will. I want to introduce her to the subordinates of the Demon Lord's army. When I think about it, it's nothing but selfish desires."
Looking back, my immaturity stood out with painful clarity.
These were feelings I still couldn't sever, even in undeath.
I was still clinging to attachments.
How wretched of me, truly.
It was enough to make me want to curse myself.
Yet I could not deny the feelings that had taken root within my heart.
They were unmistakably my own.
"I don't want to end that person's story in tragedy. Don't you think it's too cruel? I still refuse to accept it. A hero who gave everything meeting an end as a prisoner being executed—something is fundamentally wrong with that."
I poured out the impulse I had clung to in the Valley of the Dead.
Truths I had never been able to share with anyone surged forth as though a dam had broken.
Realizing what I had done, my shoulders slumped slightly.
I shouldn't have said it, yet I had blurted everything out.
After a moment of silence, I apologized to Logan.
"Sorry. Let my emotions get the better of me. This makes me unfit to be Demon King."
"I don't think so."
Logan, who had been silent until now, spoke immediately.
His words carried an unmistakable conviction.
He looked at me with an almost piercing gaze.
"What you're wrestling with isn't something you can decide on a whim. It's not the kind of matter that calls for a snap judgment."
"But I—"
"If you were truly obsessed with the ideal of what a Demon King should be, you would refuse all forms of resurrection magic without exception. If you were genuinely indecisive, you would continue desiring Clea's resurrection without a second thought."
Logan cut off my rebuttal and kept speaking.
The atmosphere was suffocating.
"Hesitating over a decision, examining yourself—that is your humanity, and the answer to your dilemma. It might sound harsh to call it halfway, but I consider it the right way to be."
"My humanity..."
I turned Logan's words over in my mind.
They seeped into my chest like something taking root.
"That you now have the chance to wrestle with this is a good sign. These are problems that have become visible only because the situation has stabilized. You are unquestionably moving forward. Being what you are—undead—what is there to rush? Over the vast stretch of time ahead of you, you will reach your own decision when the time comes."
"But putting off judgment will only lead to problems later—"
"Dwight Harvelt. Too dutiful and earnest about everything. An old bad habit of yours."
Sighing, Logan spoke without hiding his exasperation.
His tone had softened somewhat compared to earlier.
It was that of an old friend.
"Be a bit more flexible in how you see things. Find a compromise within yourself. You have plenty of subordinates who excel at that. Learn from them. If that's too difficult, at least consult with someone. Don't carry it all alone. There are many who want to look after you... so much so they're even eavesdropping without shame."
Saying this, Logan looked behind him.
I followed his gaze and turned around.
Three faces were peeking out from beneath the eaves.
From right to left, they were Diera, Luciana, and Grom.
The first to react to our gaze was Diera, who jumped up.
"Nwoah!? We've been seen completely!"
"You bone-head minister! It's because you were breathing so loudly, wasn't it?"
Luciana protested next.
The accused Grom clacked his jawbone at high speed and retorted.
"Fool! I do not even breathe! If anything, it's because you made a noise!"
Three different reactions.
The scene had instantly become noisy.
"You three..."
I was speechless.
Perhaps I was too flustered, as I hadn't noticed their presence at all.
To fail to detect them like this, my mind must have been truly shaken.
How long had they been listening to the conversation?
I wanted to ask, but this wasn't the situation for such a question.
"My Lord Demon King! This is a misunderstanding! I merely came to reprimand the predecessor for eavesdropping and the succubus for their improper behavior..."
"Grom! Do not lie! When I arrived here, you were already hiding! The one most deserving of criticism is you!"
"Exactly, exactly! You were acting suspiciously just a moment ago while polishing the throne!"
The three principal figures were engaged in an unseemly exchange.
Logan had even gone so far as to shrug his shoulders and let out a sigh.
He looked thoroughly exasperated.
They must have realized the moment for serious talk had passed.
Eventually, after the atmosphere in the room settled, Diera approached me.
Scratching her cheek, she declared with a hint of embarrassment,
"Well, you see. If a woman like me could become the Demon King, there's surely nothing for you to worry about. You should have more confidence!"
Next, Luciana walked over.
She puffed out her chest and smiled at me.
"Lady Diera is right. The Demon King worries too much, you know. A slightly more relaxed attitude wouldn't hurt, would it? If you make a mistake, I'll be there to help you."
Finally, it was Grom.
With a warm aura about him, he knelt quietly before me.
"We are always on your side, my Lord Demon King. Please do not hesitate to rely on us."
"—Thank you."
All I could manage in response to their words was that.
I couldn’t come up with anything clever to say either.
(I’m just glad I’m a bag of bones… that could have been a proper humiliation.)
I felt relieved in my chest.
As though a weight had lifted from my heart.