The destination was the audience chamber inside the Royal Capital's castle.
The elves were unsettled by the sudden teleportation.
They huddled together, clustering in one spot.
Since they showed no signs of making a strange move, there was no need for explanation.
"My Lord Demon King!"
The entrance door opened and Grom appeared.
He approached, rubbing his hands together.
"Welcome back. And so, about the party you were to bring back..."
His obsequious greeting trailed off, losing confidence.
Grom finally stopped, eyeing the elves with suspicion.
There was clear distaste in his gaze.
He always acted this way towards anyone not in the Demon Lord's army.
Given the atmosphere threatened to become coercive if left unchecked, I had to put my foot down.
"Grom, we need to talk."
"Yes! What is it, my lord?"
When I called, Grom dropped to his knees with undisguised delight.
If he could maintain this attitude always, that would be ideal, but it was probably impossible.
He remained a loyal servant with strong quirks, as ever.
Well, I could think about that later.
To Grom, who waited expectantly, I concisely explained the circumstances and my policy.
"As expected of you, Lord Demon King. Turning an unforeseen situation to your advantage and securing the elves—truly remarkable. They must be quite happy to join your ranks."
Grom, having learned of the situation, speaks with evident satisfaction.
He seems to welcome the addition of new subordinates.
The prosperity of the Demon King's domain is his happiness, no doubt.
I glance at the elves.
They hold their breath, rigid with fear.
The gaze directed at Grom is tinged with clear terror.
His courteous manner might make one forget, but Grom is the highest-ranking undead.
He possesses power sufficient to face multiple nations alone.
His mere presence foreshadows death.
Such an undead stands before them.
It is no wonder the elves are afraid.
Judging by the current state, dialogue between the two seems difficult.
In this place, I must handle it myself.
Having made that decision, I issue my order to Grom.
"We will now intercept the Imperial Army. Organize the forces for that purpose. Alert Henry as well."
"Understood! I will prepare immediately!"
Grom withdraws from the room with fluid grace.
Though his gestures are dramatic, the door closes without a sound.
His command is always impeccably efficient.
Having endured countless invasions, I understood the protocol well enough.
They would surely mobilize the appropriate forces swiftly this time as well.
Grom was, after all, an exceptionally capable strategist.
I turned my attention to the uneasy-looking elves.
They stood with anxious expressions, all but one trying to maintain composure.
Only the acting chieftain maintained a brave front.
Though uncertain what they truly thought within, they consciously avoided showing weakness.
"...Well then."
I approached the elves.
Ignoring their overt wariness, I focused my concentration.
Before the deployment preparations were complete, I intended to finish what needed to be done.
I invoked one of many grand spells.
From the void, countless rays of light were unleashed, striking each elf in one hand.
The perceptive ones attempted evasive action, but the rays relentlessly tracked and caught them.
With a sizzling sound, the elves twisted in pain.
When the rays ceased, they examined their own hands.
On the back of each hand, identical markings now glowed faintly.
"W-what are you..."
The acting chieftain clutched their hand and directed a look of reproach at me.
They had been given sudden pain without warning.
That is how I am viewed. It cannot be helped.
I reply in a nonchalant tone.
"The marking of subordination. This makes our agreement binding."
The markings applied to the elves contained magical power.
They were designed to inhibit acts of rebellion against me.
A simple thought could inflict agony upon them.
It was even possible to let them die in excruciating pain.
Furthermore, the markings would be automatically inherited by the elves' descendants.
Its nature was akin to a curse.
Breaking it would require a sorcerer of equal or greater power than myself, making it practically impossible.
With this, the elves were now truly and formally my subordinates.
I intended to apply the same markings to their kin awaiting in the Forest of the World Tree.
Naturally, fierce opposition was expected, but I did not care.
I had obtained the acting matriarch's resolve and answer.
Respecting her will, I would inflict appropriate punishment upon those elves who defied me.
This was, perhaps, the proper way of a Demon King.
The elves exchanged looks and touched the subordination markings, directing emotions of mingled fear and hatred at me.
Among them, the acting matriarch stepped forward and spoke.
"Um, I would like to return to the forest and make a report of this incident..."
"Very well. I shall accompany you."
The elves waiting in the World Tree Forest would also require an explanation of the events. It would be best to inform them before the intercepting army was assembled. Putting it off would only cause unnecessary confusion.
I immediately employed teleportation magic, taking the elves with me to the World Tree Forest. Although the distance was considerable, I knew the approximate location, making the teleportation straightforward.
From the far western reaches of the Demon Territory—beyond the borders of a small, annihilated nation—the forest lay.
After a momentary sensation of weightlessness, the surroundings transformed entirely into forest.
Clear, fresh air filled the space, thick with ambient magical power. The presence of spirits was distinctly palpable. Moreover, a holy aura emanated from the trees themselves.
A numb, painful sensation registered throughout my bony frame. This was land that rejected the undead.
While the effect on me was minor, lower-ranked undead would suffer significant impediments to movement. When bringing the intercepting army along, I would need to cast protective magic on the undead I commanded.
The surroundings were shrouded in silence. No signs of battle were visible. It seemed no conflicts with the Empire had occurred in this area.
As I surveyed the terrain, I detected multiple presences approaching. They seemed to be attempting stealth, but their movements were completely transparent to me.
Soon, elves emerged atop the trees.
They had bows raised.
There had to be at least fifty of them.
We were surrounded in an instant.
They must have come using detection magic as their guide.
Quite a swift response.
"St-Stop! If you attack here, we will be..."
The Acting Chieftain called out in a flustered voice, trying to halt them.
She was terrified of offending me.
She knew that on a mere whim, every elf here could be massacred.
But the surrounding elves did not lower their bows.
They, too, must have received orders.
Orders from someone important enough to disregard the Acting Chieftain's words entirely.
Amid the charged, on-edge atmosphere, a group of elves approached from the front.
Accompanied by several guards, they were likely high-ranking members of the tribe.
My attention focused on one among them.
An elf man with violet eyes.
He appeared to be in his early thirties, wearing a simple but finely crafted robe.
His expression suggested an unyielding will.
At that moment, an old memory stirred within me.
Countless scenes flicker through my mind.
I feel a faint headache.
"I..."
Without letting any of these physical or mental anomalies show, I keep my eyes fixed on the elf.
It was no mistake, nor an illusion.
He was unmistakably real, standing right there.
His name was Logan Rin Freetilt.
He had been one of the very few friends I had in life.