I Reincarnated As The Lazy Demon King's Butler

There was only one thing he had never done before in the world of politics.

Manage a kingdom where the ruler treated leadership like an optional side quest.

And yet, here he was.

Morning in the Demon King's Castle

Elias stood in the grand council chamber, reviewing the first official policies of the Demon King's new era.

At least, that was what he was calling it. Azazel? He just called it "too much work."

The demon generals sat around the obsidian table, tense but curious, waiting for what came next. The lazy king slouched in his seat, picking idly at the gold-lined edge of his robe.

Elias flipped through the documents, ensuring the ink had dried.

Military restructuring. Economic recovery. Political reform.

It was all there. The foundation of a stable empire—if the people in this room actually did their jobs.

"This is a waste of time," General Vardok muttered, arms crossed. The minotaur's deep voice rumbled through the chamber. "We need warriors, not bureaucrats."

Elias didn't even glance up. "Your warriors are ill-trained, poorly fed, and more familiar with tavern brawls than battle strategy. Do you think an army of drunkards can hold off the human invasion?"

Vardok's brow twitched. "We've held the line for centuries."

"You held the line when the kingdom was strong," Elias corrected. "Now? Your eastern territories are revolting, your fortresses are underfunded, and your soldiers are one bad meal away from deserting."

Silence settled over the table.

Azazel finally looked up, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Elias smiled coolly. "Cleaning up disasters? No. But preventing complete collapse? That, I find fulfilling."

The Demon King groaned. "You sound like a tax collector."

Elias turned the document toward him. "You'll be signing off on new taxation policies, actually."

Azazel's eyes widened in horror. "Taxes?! You want me to take money from people?"

"That's how a functioning economy works, yes."

Azazel leaned back dramatically. "This is oppression."

"This is government."

"Same thing."

Elias ignored him and turned to the council. "First, we will restructure the military. All mercenaries will be dismissed. Only trained warriors, sworn to the throne, will remain. We will form an elite force—a unit capable of both defense and political leverage."

Vardok narrowed his eyes. "You want to purge the army?"

"I want loyalty," Elias replied. "Something we're currently lacking."

Across the table, Seraphine, the succubus Minister of Internal Affairs, smirked. "A bold move. It'll make enemies."

"Everything worth doing makes enemies," Elias replied smoothly.

Seraphine studied him for a moment, then leaned back in her chair, clearly entertained.

Azazel, however, looked increasingly bothered.

"This sounds… complicated," the Demon King muttered.

Elias slid a stack of pre-written decrees toward him. "Just sign."

Azazel squinted at them. "Did you already fill these out?"

"Yes."

Azazel sighed deeply. "I don't like how efficient you are."

"I take that as a compliment."

Azazel reluctantly signed his name, his elegant script sealing the fate of the Demon Kingdom's next major reform.

And just like that, the first true shift in power began.

The Whispers of Rebellion

Later that evening, Elias stood in the highest tower of the castle, gazing over the flickering city lights below.

Footsteps approached. He didn't turn.

Seraphine's voice cut through the night air. "There's movement in the East."

Elias nodded, unsurprised. "The rebellion is responding faster than expected."

Seraphine leaned against the cold stone railing. "Your policies are working, but not everyone is thrilled about it. The old warlords? They don't want a strong, centralized kingdom. They prefer the chaos. More power in their hands that way."

Elias folded his arms. "Which means they'll move soon."

"They already have."

She handed him a sealed letter. Elias took it, breaking the wax seal with his thumb. His golden eyes scanned the parchment.

Lord Ravion of the Eastern Provinces formally rejects the new military order.

It was a declaration of defiance. Not outright war—not yet—but a warning that war was coming.

"Azazel needs to know about this," Seraphine murmured.

Elias rolled the letter between his fingers.

"No," he said simply. "Not yet."

Seraphine raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Azazel needs victories, not problems," Elias explained. "If I bring this to him now, he'll either ignore it or make an impulsive decision."

He flicked the letter into a burning torch, watching the flames consume it.

"I'll handle this myself."

Seraphine chuckled. "Careful, Butler. If you keep making all the decisions, people will start wondering who the real ruler is."

Elias turned, a smirk playing at his lips.

"I think they already know."