I observed the ones who had rioted.
Bound with ropes, they were silent.
They seemed terrified of me before them.
When our eyes met, they hastily looked away.
I often forgot that my form was a black skeleton, since the executive members treated me calmly.
With that sinister power added to it, I must have appeared uncanny to onlookers.
It was only natural for ordinary citizens to be cowering.
I began speaking, being conscious not to seem overly intimidating.
"I came here because I heard a riot had broken out. I'm told it was you who did it, is that correct?"
There was no answer.
It didn't seem like there was any disagreement either.
They appeared to acknowledge what they had done.
I picked out a merchant-like man from the group, crouched in front of him, and spoke.
"I have a few questions I'd like to ask."
"What... what is it..."
The man wore an expression of anxiety.
My abilities were widely known.
He likely understood that he could be transformed into an undead on a mere whim of mine.
Of course, I had no intention of doing such a thing, but if it made the man more willing to talk, so much the better.
"I heard you were saying that a Savior had descended. I'd like you to tell me more about that."
"That... that is..."
The man hesitated with a bitter expression.
He seemed to have an answer, but was intentionally concealing it.
"Is it something you cannot say?"
"No, Your Majesty! It's just... not something worth troubling the Demon Lord with..."
"You leave the judgment of its worth to me. You only need to answer the question. Understood?"
"Y-yes..."
The man conceded with a nod.
He began to speak, aware of the others' gaze.
"It started with a trivial conversation. From there, various things developed..."
What the man described had happened over a dozen days ago.
While traveling through the forest, he was suddenly attacked by a monster.
Just as his escape was in vain and he was about to be killed, he was saved by an armored mercenary.
The dashing mercenary restrained the monster, allowing the man to flee the scene.
The man called that mercenary his savior.
After that, the others began speaking up one after another.
One had been saved from the hands of a thug by an old man in robes.
Another had been treated to a drink at a tavern by a wandering man.
There was someone who had their luggage carried for free by a female mage.
Another was given a healing potion when they were injured and collapsed in a cave.
A story also emerged about being lost, only to be guided to the nearest village by someone.
What they described was largely the same story.
A stranger helped them without asking for anything in return.
Those who were helped then told acquaintances about this strange experience.
At first, it was simply a heartwarming tale, and they were only grateful.
However, when they learned of others who had similar experiences, they were deeply moved.
Gradually, a group began to form, and eventually someone proposed an idea.
- In this city, there is someone who helps others in secret.
That person takes on different appearances to perform good deeds.
Moved by this baseless yet compelling narrative, they were further inspired, and before long, they began to call this figure of discussion the Savior.
They gathered others with similar experiences and began to venerate the Savior.
In time, they planned a large-scale campaign to spread the existence of the Savior to the city's people.
It was during this that they got into an argument with soldiers, leading to today's sudden riot.
"We have absolutely no intention of criticizing the Demon King. We only wish for people to know about the Savior. Please, at least understand that much..."
"I understand the situation. I will inform the soldiers accordingly."
When I said this, the crowd was relieved.
Relieved that they wouldn't be killed for now, they let out a sigh of relief.
Seeing this, I added one more thing.
"However, it is a fact that you caused a disturbance. A fine would be appropriate. I have no intention of imposing any other punishment. Are there any objections?"
Silence filled the room.
The people seemed to be reflecting on their actions.
There was no need for a lengthy lecture.
If anything, it would serve as a warning.
I addressed the spy.
"I'll leave the rest to you. I'm returning."
"Understood. Thank you for your trouble."
With a bow from the spy, I initiated the transfer.
My destination was the city's airspace.
Walking through the air, I contemplated.
(The savior's identity was, of all things, countless good-hearted people...)
Helping others wasn't unusual.
It was something that could happen anywhere, in any region.
The individuals who helped them were certainly not all the same person.
It was just a series of similar incidents overlapping.
In essence, nothing more than coincidence.
Small acts of kindness leave an impression.
Perhaps the people who started the riot were already a sentimental bunch by nature.
When such individuals gathered and grew excited, it could have produced an effect akin to mass hypnosis.
They crystallized the vague object of their gratitude into the concrete form of a savior.
There was no malice in that whatsoever.
However, I felt a foreboding premonition.
(I can't dismiss this matter lightly...)
Several instances of helping others had, as a result, escalated into riots.
Though it didn't feel like a scheme, it gave off an air of some kind of omen.
Such premonitions could not be taken lightly.
It seemed wise to have that town thoroughly investigated.