The feast had reached its climax, showing even greater fervor than before.
Food and drink were consumed one after another, and with each passing moment new dishes were brought forth.
For a feast, it was quite a small gathering, but the speed of consumption was remarkable.
I hadn't touched any of the ordinary food or wine.
Still, it was interesting to watch the glasses and plates empty one after another.
At the moment, I was watching the revelry from a corner of the room.
(These brief moments have their own charm.)
I thought to myself with a deep, quiet feeling.
Lately, I had found myself with more breathing room in various matters.
The situation on the continent, while punctuated by conflict, was stabilizing.
There hadn't been any phenomena suggesting the "Will of the World" was stirring.
The only lingering concerns were the two heroes—the War Maiden and the Steel Knight.
However, even this wasn't a major problem at present.
These two heroes were certainly powerful.
But they still fell within the realm of common sense.
While possessing strength to match a thousand warriors, they weren't targets that needed immediate elimination.
It seemed they were currently preoccupied with rebuilding and securing territory in the republic we had recaptured.
If the Demon Lord's Domain were to invade, I intended to leave it to Henry and Dolda.
Aside from cases where their abilities were extremely mismatched or when they had subordinates they needed to protect, they could likely win without issue.
Recently, Yura had also expressed a desire to fight, so perhaps it would be alright to have her accompany them.
Yura possesses sufficient strength.
I had heard that Diera occasionally provided combat instruction.
She must have acquired further combat abilities.
There is nothing for me to worry about.
Tonight I shall enjoy the feast to my heart's content, and from tomorrow onward, I shall once again tighten my focus.
While considering such matters, Grom emerged from the kitchen.
He took a seat directly opposite me, casting a glance at the noisy revelers around us.
"As lively as ever, I see."
"Seems like cleanup will be a pain."
"That you may leave to me. This Grom shall conscript the drunkards into forced labor. Even in the setting of drink, such a lesson is good medicine for fools who cannot exercise restraint."
Grom spoke, placing a hand upon his chest.
He was joking, but he was probably serious.
He would likely deliver a rebuke and then conscript his subordinates, once the effects of the drink had worn off.
Grom suddenly turned his gaze toward me.
The minotaur skull seemed to bear a gentler air than usual.
"Lord Demon King, are you also enjoying the feast?"
"I am."
As I answered, Grom nodded.
The flames within his eye sockets swelled, as if expressing his joy.
"That is most pleasing to hear. My enthusiasm for the cooking has intensified considerably. I shall later prepare a special dish exclusively for you, Lord Demon King."
"Is this a meal prepared for the undead?"
"Yes. I have been practicing, and can now prepare something suitable. I am sure you will be satisfied."
"Oh?"
Grom's account was intriguing.
It seemed he, too, had prepared a meal for the undead.
Ideally, I would have liked more of such offerings.
"I shall look forward to it, then."
"Thank you! I will go prepare it right away!"
The enthusiastic Grom rose lightly from his seat and strode briskly back to the kitchen.
Just as he left, Logan Rin Freetilt approached.
"This kind of atmosphere is pleasant once in a while, isn't it?"
"It is. My subordinates are enjoying it as well. A respite is important."
Usually, besides the intense workload, battles occurred frequently in various places.
Everyone was working continuously, forgoing both sleep and rest.
For undead like myself or Grom, it was manageable, but for the others, it must be grueling.
Logan tilted his own glass.
The amber contents diminished slightly.
Fruit wine, perhaps.
I had a memory of drinking something similar over a decade ago.
That memory surfaced unexpectedly.
"If you were the old you, you'd have left the room without a word. You're not doing that now. That's a good change."
"...I didn't intend to be that disagreeable."
I looked back on that time.
Perhaps I truly lacked mental fortitude back then, compared to now. I think I was mentally exhausted from the mission to save the world.
As I tilted my head, Logan continued.
"You just don't realize it. That's the kind of person you were."
"Is that so?"
He stated it so definitively.
For him to be so clear about it, the impression must have been strong. There was surely evidence behind it. I had to concede this point.
Upon that foundation, I analyzed myself.
"Having subordinates changed my perspective and consciousness. I suppose I've grown."
"...You've become more eloquent. Should I call you the Demon King, worthy of the title?"
Logan looked at me with a gaze that seemed impressed.
It was apparently an unexpected remark from me.
As I thought, I hadn't realized.
Perhaps I was making too much of it.
But from his perspective as an old friend, he must have perceived a definite change.
If you are starting to resemble a Demon King, I think that is something to be glad about.
Surprised by the unexpected observation, I saw Diera approaching from the other direction.
She was swaying unsteadily, back and forth, side to side.
Liquid kept sloshing from the glass in her hand.
On top of that, her face was bright red.
She must have been drinking a considerable amount for a while now; she was clearly intoxicated.
Diera flopped against my back, clinging there limply.
The jostling caused alcohol to splash onto my shoulder and head.
Unconcerned, she spoke to me in a voice heavy with sighs.
"What was that? Demon King? Did you perhaps call for me?"
With her free hand, Diera kept poking my skull.
A firm *tock* sound rang out at regular intervals.
With vacant eyes, she now fixed her aim on Logan.
"Hmph! Logan! You haven't been drinking much, have you? Drink freely! I shall treat you here!"
Diera raised her glass and shouted.
Logan retorted in an annoyed tone.
"If you have free time, go help with serving or washing dishes. You should be good at simple tasks."
"Isn't that a bit too dismissive...? I am the previous Demon King, you know?"
Diera muttered, bubbling with discontent.
She seemed to have pouted somewhat.
Just then, a boisterous voice rang out from across the way.
"Hey, Big Sis! Come over here for a sec!"
"Hmm? What is it, boy? What do you want?"
Diera recovered her energy in an instant and replied. Still clinging to my back, she turned only her head toward Henry.
There, besides Henry, stood Dolda and Yura.
A little further off, Luciana was drinking cheerfully, apparently making sport of their antics.
Henry, standing at the center, explained while showing off his arm muscles.
"We're seeing who's the strongest in the group here. Why don't you give it a try, Big Sis?"
"Oh, what a delightful game! I shall join you as well!"
Diera set down her glass and moved over to Henry and the others.
Rolling up her sleeves, her mood had completely recovered.
Diera propped her elbow on the table.
Across from her, Yura assumed the same posture. Somehow having produced one, she was possessing her dedicated golem frame.
The two facing each other clasped hands.
From that position, they would exert force, and victory or defeat would be decided when the back of one hand touched the table.
I had seen this conducted before occasionally.
Logan, who had been observing the whole sequence, muttered while gazing at Diera.
"It seems there are others more changed than you. Hard to believe they're the one who brought the world to darkness, though..."
"Indeed."
I agree with Logan's words.
There, Yura was slamming her hand on the table.
The impact shattered the table, and Diera, defeated in their contest of strength, was sent flying through the air.