That day, the world was gripped by terror once more.
The resurrection of the "Storm Dragon Veldora" had been confirmed.
The news was swiftly relayed to the nations under the influence of the Western Holy Church.
Kings across the land would once again be troubled by the question of how to deal with the "Storm Dragon Veldora."
...Though in some nations, the source of that trouble was quite different.
Farmus Kingdom, the audience chamber within the royal castle.
There, upon the throne, something had been unceremoniously dumped one morning.
It was a lump of flesh.
A grotesque mass of meat with the King's face embedded in its center.
It was alive. Its gaze was hollow, yes, but its consciousness was perfectly intact.
A patrolling soldier had noticed the groaning sounds and discovered it in the early hours of dawn.
The soldier was a Royal Guard of relatively high standing within the palace, yet the moment he laid eyes upon that... thing, he could not stop himself from letting out a scream of pure terror.
The form it had taken was so utterly revolting that perhaps it was forgivable he didn't even realize it was his own sovereign.
However, the attendants and ministers who came rushing over at the soldier's scream quickly recognized that this was their King, transformed beyond recognition.
And then...
"I... there should be a vial beneath me... please, make me drink it..."
Those were the King's words, repeated weakly, like delirious rambling.
Trembling, they had the King's body lifted. The flesh drew out strings of viscera, and a foul stench spread throughout the area.
Some vomited in horror.
Others collapsed where they stood.
It was a twisted lump of flesh, as though someone had simply torn out his internal organs and haphazardly pasted them back together.
A sight that awakened primal terror in any human heart—utterly, unspeakably grotesque.
Though their faces were contorted with revulsion, they forced themselves to continue through sheer willpower.
The magicians who had remained in the palace were gathered, and it had already been confirmed beyond any doubt that this flesh mass was, in fact, the King himself.
No matter what form he had taken, if he was the King, they were bound to show due respect.
When the body was lifted as instructed, there was a vial underneath, just as he had said.
But was it safe to give him this? Uncertain, they had the magicians appraise it.
The result was...
Complete Recovery
A legendary-grade medicine said to fully heal even the loss of bodily organs, second only to the Resurrection Medicine.
Its recipe had been lost, and even the Dwarves were said to be unable to recreate it—a truly miraculous elixir.
Some of the magicians entertained fleeting thoughts of using it for research, but none dared speak the thought aloud.
After all, they understood perfectly well that there was no other means of saving the King.
The transformation was dramatic.
The moment the King drank the potion, his body was restored to its former robust state.
Hastily, attendants brought clothing. Once dressed, the King caught his breath and then announced that an emergency council meeting would be held immediately.
The atmosphere turned frantic as preparations for the meeting began.
Surveying the loyal ministers who remained, the King said: "Let us move to another room... I need to tell you what happened. I want your opinions before the council begins."
His voice was weak as he spoke.
Hearing the King's account, the ministers fell into stunned silence.
The contents were simply too unbelievable.
"Y-Your Majesty... permit me to ask once more. Is it truly the case that everyone perished?"
"They weren't wiped out—they didn't retreat as survivors—were they truly all killed?"
"The supply corps were stationed in the rear, weren't they? They're safe, surely?"
The King shook his head feebly.
That gesture alone was enough to force them all to accept the terrible truth: everyone was dead.
One of the ministers broke down and wept on the spot.
He was the one who had asked about the supply corps—he had sent his son, who was to see his first battle in this war, off to the front.
He had even pulled strings to ensure his son was assigned to the rear rather than the dangerous front lines... and yet, it had all been for nothing.
After all, he had only agreed to let his son see his first battle because he believed this would be a one-sided rout...
Watching this with a detached expression, the King found himself thinking similar thoughts.
But such a tragedy was, in the end, nothing more than one loss among a staggering number.
The total dead in this battle: fifteen thousand.
A number without precedent—far too vast to comprehend.
"Your Majesty... is it true? That the enemy was only a single monster?"
The relatively calm minister addressed the King.
The King nodded in response.
"Every word. And I was the only one who survived."
He had once again forced himself to confront a reality he wished he could deny.
The subsequent torture. The behavior of the monsters.
The birth of a new Demon Lord.
And the terrifying reality that this Farmus Kingdom had antagonized that Demon Lord.
The ministers fell silent.
According to the King's account, the Farmus Kingdom was undoubtedly heading toward destruction.
That was precisely why the council had been convened—they needed to establish a course of action before the nobles gathered three days hence.
And so the King laid out the three options the Demon Lord had proposed.
*"Now then, here are my proposals. King of Farmus.* *You have three possible courses of action.* *The first is to abdicate. Take responsibility for this war and step down from the throne.* *As war reparations, you will cede a portion of Farmus's territory and pay fifteen hundred star gold coins.* *The second option is for you to declare, as King, that your nation will submit to my country, Tempest.* *In this case, your Farmus Kingdom becomes a vassal state of Tempest.* *There will undoubtedly be significant backlash from the nobles, and it will be a great struggle for you.* *The terms of your treatment will be discussed and determined once the status of vassal state has been officially decided.* *It is close to unconditional surrender, but the lives and property of your citizens will be guaranteed.* *As for the final proposal—I do not recommend it.* *That you gather the nobles once more and continue the war against my nation.* *Should you choose this path, your life will end at that very moment.* *You may be freed from the suffering of this world, but the only thing protected will be your pride.* *Your citizens will starve, and the wars will rage on for a long, long time.* *The choice is entirely yours.* *In about a week, I will send an envoy.* *Think carefully, and deliver your answer."* She had spoken with a gentle smile and an expression of delicate beauty, like that of a lovely young girl.
A truly terrifying Demon Lord.
Even the mere memory of her was enough to send cold terror surging from the depths of his being.
He could never—never again—entertain the thought of standing against her.
The King had no more will to defy her, not from any sense of dignity, but purely out of that all-consuming fear.
Being turned into a lump of flesh. Being forced to eat his own limbs with his own hands.
He never wanted to experience such horror again, and it was with that singular resolve that he now listened to the words of his ministers.
"Preposterous! You say star gold coins? A single star gold coin is worth a hundred gold coins! Are you saying we should pay a hundred and fifty thousand gold coins?!"
"There's no way we can pay such an enormous sum to monsters! Absolutely out of the question!"
"Quite right! And territory as well!"
"Something like the Viscount's lands would be targeted—having our territory border that of monsters is unthinkable!"
"But submitting to their rule is absolutely out of the question! There's no guarantee they'll keep their word and leave the citizens alone!"
"Our only option is to fight to the death! We shall protect our honor and drive these monsters out!"
King Edmaris had known this was how it would go.
The ministers who remained here still hadn't grasped the reality of the situation.
None of them had experienced the terror firsthand. None of them would be the ones standing on the front lines to fight.
They were safely tucked away, trying to send someone else to fight in their stead. When the time came to bear responsibility for defeat, they'd be nowhere to be found.
Up until now, that had been fine.
The Farmus Kingdom was a great nation, holding a position of authority among its neighbors.
But this time, that wouldn't work. After all, the opponent was a Demon Lord capable of annihilating an entire army single-handedly.
"...Listen to me. The enemy is a Demon Lord.
Not as metaphor or exaggeration—a being who can match and overwhelm an entire army, alone.
If you're so concerned about pride, then are you the ones who will fight? I no longer have a shred of pride left!
To go through that kind of terror twice over—never!
I'm not even permitted to go mad! If you want to fight, then fight—I won't stop you!
But what will you do if you can't trust the monsters?
Submit, or fight.
Understand this—I will not fight. I have already decided to abdicate.
Enough. I've had enough. The Demon Lord told me...
*'If you say it's for the sake of your nation, then refusing to consider the other side's circumstances is a foolish strategy.* *If you had approached things differently, you might have become good neighbors.'* Those were her words! I was lectured by a monster!
If only I had listened to Viscount Mjurma and Count Hellmann, none of this would have happened.
My greed was not for the sake of my people—it was for my own sake.
There won't be a second time. There won't be a second time.
If I make the wrong choice again, the disaster won't just fall on me—it will rain down upon my citizens as well.
My honor and my pride mean nothing anymore.
The least I can do is find a plan that prevents catastrophe from befalling the people!"
The King's soul-wrenching cry froze the ministers in place.
This calculating King, who had always put his own interests first, was admitting his own mistakes.
And having considered the overwhelming disparity in military strength, he had arrived at a conclusion of absolute despair.
The King was right—there was truly no chance of victory.
They had been using lofty talk of pride and honor as excuses to protect their own interests, and the King's words drove that home with brutal clarity.
The ministers fell to their knees before the King. And then...
"We humbly apologize. We shall seek a better path—for the sake of this nation... for the sake of its people."
Every minister nodded at those words and bowed low.
King Edmaris gave a small nod as well, and the discussion resumed.
They needed to establish a general policy before the nobles assembled.
They had to be able to persuade the nobles. If they couldn't, this nation would be destroyed.
What could be done to achieve the best possible outcome? What would truly bring happiness to the citizens?
The discussion between the King and his ministers continued, with no end in sight...
Three days later.
The nobles assembled, and the council was convened.
Unlike last time, there was no ease in the expressions of the King or the ministers—they were dead serious.
The nobles, sensing the unusual atmosphere, wore tense faces.
And the words the King delivered to them— Those very words would throw the entire assembly into chaos.
"This nation has been defeated by the monster nation of Tempest.
Therefore, I am taking responsibility, and I am abdicating."
The bombshell the King dropped first sent the council into an uproar.
The ministers reported on the惨状 of the subjugation army.
The unbelievable claim that the King was the sole survivor.
Criticism poured in over the King's decision to accept the reparations demands.
And rightfully so.
Farmus Kingdom was a great nation with a total population of thirty million. Its annual tax revenue, deposited into the national treasury, amounted to five million gold coins.
Those were figures based purely on tax revenue alone, but the demanded reparations of fifteen hundred star gold coins came to a hundred and fifty thousand gold coins.
That was three percent of the annual revenue.
And on top of that, they were apparently demanding territory as well.
The nobles were furious, loudly demanding the King take responsibility.
Namely, that the reparations should be paid from the royal treasury, and that the cession of territory must be absolutely refused.
The nobles' argument wasn't wrong, per se.
But they had forgotten one crucial fact.
That their opponent was a Demon Lord who could overwhelm an entire army.
Or perhaps they simply didn't want to believe it...
When that point was raised, some went pale, while others defiantly refused to back down.
Just as King Edmaris had feared, the nobles were unable to present a united front, and the council descended into chaos.
"Your Majesty! Even if you abdicate, you cannot escape responsibility!
Furthermore—are you planning to flee alone?!"
"If I do not abdicate, I will provoke the Demon Lord's wrath. Is that acceptable to you?
And if I do not abdicate and insist on ruling, the only option is to become a vassal state. Will you accept that?"
"Gu... but! We cannot simply submit without a fight!"
This kind of exchange was repeated over and over again.
Watching this, the ministers recalled their own initial reaction when they had first been told of this, and their faces flushed with shame as they sighed.
King Edmaris had indeed been greedy, but not to the point of being consumed by it. Nor was he a foolish king—he had possessed the ability to see ahead.
This failure, when traced to its roots, had originated from the desire to protect his nation's interests.
Placing all the blame solely on the King was wrong. That much, at least, was unforgivable.
It was abundantly clear that the nobles cared only about protecting their own interests—neither the Farmus Kingdom itself nor the lives and property of its citizens featured anywhere in their considerations.
In the end, the council concluded without resolution.
Just as Rimuru (or rather, Sage) had predicted, the Farmus Kingdom fell into conflict between the royal faction and the noble faction.
As a result, the Farmus Kingdom was destroyed.
Henceforth, it would be remembered as the nation that perished by the wrath of the Demon Lord.
In the midst of this, a young man in the Nidoll-Maigam County rose up and began to build his reputation as a new hero.
Volunteers gathered around him—this young man who fought to protect the citizens' property against the avaricious nobles.
Those with sharp wits and sound judgment joined his camp at the earliest stages.
The young man's name was Youm.
As captain of the Border Defense Force, he commanded deep trust from the surrounding villages, and by virtue of his natural charisma, he expanded his influence in the blink of an eye.
Undefeated and ever-victorious.
The disorganized noble armies were no match for him; he demonstrated overwhelming strength.
It also helped greatly that he received support not only from major nobles like Viscount Mjurma and Count Hellmann, but also from surviving members of the royal family.
His father, King Edmaris, had been executed simultaneously with his abdication.
However, at the precise moment the guillotine blade fell upon the execution platform, the laughter of a young girl echoed through the air.
And then—the severed head and the torso drifted into the sky, flying off into the distant heavens.
Bloodstains were all that remained; the body had vanished. This was proof that what the witnesses had seen was no collective hallucination.
This event was erased from the official stage of history and buried in darkness.
In later ages, there would be accounts from those who claimed that Marius—a confidant of the Hero King Youm—bore a striking resemblance to King Edmaris, but among the nobility, there was no one capable of judging the truth of those claims.
In the span of two years, Youm unified all of the former Farmus Kingdom's territories.
The reason rapid reunification was possible was largely due to the backing of the Dwarf Kingdom and the Kingdom of Blumund.
But the most important reason of all— That was the declaration of non-aggression issued by Demon Lord Rimuru, one of the Eight Star Demon Lords.
It was ostensibly based on his support for Youm's willingness to pay war reparations, but for those living in fear of the Demon Lord's retaliation, the declaration of non-aggression brought tremendous relief.
Thus, the hero Youm, who shared a close bond with Demon Lord Rimuru, went on to establish a new nation.
He named it "Falmenas."
It meant "a nation born from threat."
Youm was inaugurated as its first King, and he took the name Youm Falmenas.
At his side stood two Demonkin. And a young advisor, along with a middle-aged political counselor of unknown origin.
Supported by his trusted companions, Youm set foot upon the path of a hero.
A new era.
Toward an age of upheaval—his stride would not be stopped.