I Reincarnated As The Lazy Demon King's Butler

The war table in Nocturne's grand chamber was covered in maps, reports, and sealed messages—each one detailing the movement of the Hero's Army.

The council of war had gathered, their eyes fixed on a single parchment.

A scouting report.

A report that, for the first time, contained something concerning.

Something unexpected.

Azazel, sitting sideways on his throne with his usual lazy smirk, swirled a goblet of wine. "So. What's the verdict?"

Vardok, the minotaur general, crossed his arms. "They're better prepared than we thought."

Seraphine, lounging against the far wall, raised an eyebrow. "Better prepared? Or smarter than expected?"

Elias scanned the parchment in front of him, golden eyes flickering over every word, every detail, every weakness.

And for the first time since this war began, he felt it—

The Hero was not an idiot.

A Different Kind of Enemy

Most heroes were predictable.

They came with righteous fury, overwhelming strength, and a complete lack of understanding when it came to tactics.

They believed in honor, in justice, in charging straight into battle.

This one…

Was different.

The Hero's army had not marched directly toward Nocturne's borders in an obvious path.

Instead, they had split into three separate divisions, each taking a different approach—one through the open plains, one through the southern highlands, and one disappearing entirely into unknown routes.

Three forces.

Three possible threats.

And none of them were moving recklessly.

This was not an army charging blindly into war.

This was an army led by a strategist.

And that…

Was a problem.

The Hero's Name

The scouting report was signed with a name.

A name Elias had heard before.

Alexander Vael.

The Holy Empire's Golden Hero.

Not a brute. Not a fool.

A former war tactician, trained in both military conquest and political maneuvering.

The kind of man who did not win by strength alone.

The kind of man who was dangerous.

Seraphine clicked her tongue. "So much for an easy fight."

Vardok grunted. "We can still crush them. We have the numbers, and we hold the home advantage."

Elias set the parchment down and exhaled.

"No."

The room stilled.

Elias folded his hands together, his gaze unreadable. "This Hero isn't coming to win a battle."

Azazel smirked. "Then what's he coming for?"

Elias's golden eyes flickered.

"He's coming to win the war before it starts."

The Enemy's Strategy

The pieces fell into place.

The Hero's army was not rushing into an open battle.

They were preparing the battlefield before the first strike.

The split forces weren't to attack—they were to gather intelligence. One army draws attention, the other probes for weaknesses, and the third…? It was preparing something.The unknown division wasn't lost—it was hidden. A force waiting for the perfect moment to strike from behind, or somewhere unexpected.They weren't marching to Nocturne alone. The Hero was securing alliances along the way—rallying villages, human factions, and possible rebel groups within demon territory.

This wasn't just war.

This was a game of control.

And Elias had just realized—

He wasn't the only one playing.

The First Move

Elias straightened. "We need to act before they do."

Vardok grunted. "A preemptive strike?"

Elias shook his head. "No. We don't fight on their terms. That's what they want."

He placed a single hand on the war table, tapping the three paths of the Hero's army.

"We don't attack. We don't retreat. We make them second-guess everything they think they know."

Seraphine grinned. "A mind game?"

Elias smirked. "Exactly."

He reached for a blank parchment, dipping his quill into ink.

The first move in this war was not made with swords.

It was made with words.

And Alexander Vael was about to find out who he was dealing with.