I Reincarnated As The Lazy Demon King's Butler

Elias had spent years playing the game of politics. He had walked through gilded halls, whispered into the ears of kings, and reshaped empires without ever drawing a sword.

But now, he was in a new kind of battlefield—one filled with lazy demons, corrupt ministers, and an entire kingdom on the verge of collapse.

And his first real challenge?

Getting the Demon King to do his job.

A Royal Address… If He Shows Up

The grand balcony of the Demon King's castle overlooked the central city of Nocturne, where thousands of demons gathered in anticipation. The first public address in years had been announced, and the citizens—skeptical, curious, and desperate—stood waiting in the fading twilight.

But the Demon King?

Was still in bed.

Elias stood in the royal chambers, arms crossed, staring at the pile of blankets and pillows that contained one (1) very reluctant Demon King.

"Azazel," Elias said patiently.

A muffled groan came from the blankets. "I changed my mind. I don't want to do it."

Elias pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's not optional."

"It should be."

Elias ripped the blankets off in one swift motion. Azazel hissed at the sudden exposure to light and burrowed under his pillow instead.

"Get. Up."

Azazel peeked out. "You're unusually aggressive for a butler."

"I am an effective butler."

"I liked you better when you were less effective."

Elias grabbed the edge of the bed and flipped it over. Azazel crashed onto the floor, tangled in sheets and robes.

"…I hate you," the Demon King muttered from the floor.

"I'm aware," Elias replied. "Now put your damn crown on and get outside. You have a kingdom to inspire."

A Speech That Shouldn't Have Worked

Azazel stood on the grand balcony, robes slightly disheveled, eyes still half-lidded from sleep, as he looked down at the gathered crowd.

Thousands of demons—nobles, warriors, civilians—watched in silence.

They had waited years for a proper ruler.

And this was what they got?

Elias stood just behind the curtains, out of view but close enough to ensure his "master" didn't make a fool of himself.

Azazel yawned, scratching his head. "Uh. Hello."

The silence stretched. Some of the crowd exchanged glances. A few chuckled. Others looked annoyed.

Elias clenched his jaw. Don't mess this up…

Azazel continued, rubbing his neck. "So, I heard things aren't great."

A demon in the crowd snorted loudly.

Under his breath, Elias muttered, I swear to every god in existence—

Then, something changed.

Azazel straightened. His casual posture melted away, and his voice—usually so lazy—became sharp and commanding.

"I heard you've given up on me," he said, his tone suddenly unreadable. "I heard you think I don't care."

The crowd fell silent.

Azazel stepped forward, letting his aura bleed into the air—not overwhelming, but just enough to remind them of who he was.

"You're right," he admitted. "I have been sitting on this throne doing nothing. Watching. Sleeping. Letting things fall apart."

A murmur ran through the crowd.

"But here's the thing," Azazel continued, and for the first time, his red eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "This is still my kingdom."

The air grew thick with power. Some of the weaker demons staggered under the weight of his presence.

"And you are still my people," he said, voice ringing over the plaza. "And I don't lose what is mine."

Elias raised an eyebrow. Was he… actually trying?

The Demon King turned, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him, and raised a hand.

"My butler—"

Elias stiffened.

"—has been bothering me non-stop to fix things, so we're fixing things."

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter. Some nobles scowled, others nodded approvingly.

Elias sighed. I'll take what I can get.

Although Azazel appeared to have given little effort with the speech it seemed to have a slight impact, Elias could only think of how stupid and naive the people of this world are....maybe I can use this to my advantage.

Ripples of Change

After the speech, Elias walked with Azazel through the castle halls, their footsteps echoing in the dim corridors.

"I have to admit," Elias said, "you handled that better than I expected."

Azazel smirked. "Of course. I'm a natural-born ruler."

"You almost had them," Elias continued. "Until you threw me under the chariot."

Azazel stretched. "You should be honored. You're famous now."

Elias exhaled through his nose. "A butler should never be famous."

"Too late."

Elias shook his head but let it go. The speech had done its job. The citizens had hope, the nobles were reassessing their positions, and the rebellion in the East had just received a clear warning.

Now came the hard part.

"Tomorrow," Elias said, "we start real work."

Azazel groaned. "More?"

Elias handed him a neatly stacked bundle of papers. "We still have a military to rebuild, an economy to fix, and a rebellion to crush."

Azazel stared at the papers like they had personally offended him.

"Or," he said, "we could just go get some drinks and—"

Elias shoved the papers into his arms. "No."

Azazel sighed dramatically. "You're so strict."

"And you're still the laziest king I've ever seen."

The two walked deeper into the castle, shadows flickering against the walls, the weight of a kingdom pressing down on them.

Tomorrow, Elias would begin the real battle—not against heroes or armies, but against the corrupt system itself.

And as he glanced at the Demon King beside him, he had to wonder:

Would Azazel be his greatest obstacle… or his greatest weapon?