I Was Abandoned by the Demon King I Served for 10 Years

Chapter 4

"You still have no intention of becoming king, it seems."

As they stepped out of the conference room, Chief Justice Mateus spoke. It was like a thunderclap to the nobles who had just resolved a major issue. The younger Demons, including Spranches, couldn’t hide their confusion and began cautiously watching Durin.

It was something only an Elder Demon, who had spent the longest time in the castle, could say.

If anyone else had heard it, they might have taken it as a grave insult, but Durin responded calmly.

"I don’t have the right to do that."

"You can make one with power. All the castle’s soldiers support you. Someone like Rudmila could be easily dismissed."

"Without a Shaman, we cannot rule the entire Demon Realm. The wisdom they’ve accumulated over the years is very effective in managing the stubborn warlords."

"Your Excellency, the warlords wouldn’t dare to challenge us. Aren’t there too many enemies nearby for anyone to aim for the throne?"

"The issue lies in the fact that we wouldn’t be able to challenge them either. The Demon King's Castle must remain at the center of the Demon Realm at all times."

"Is the central position insufficient? I am curious where Your Excellency’s gaze is directed."

Mateus looked directly at him and asked. Without hesitation, Durin replied.

"The Human Realm."

The corridor leading to the reception room was swallowed by silence. No one dared to intervene in their conversation.

However, it was clear to see the direction the castle was headed. They didn’t want to miss this chance.

"Remember the last Hero’s invasion. Since when did the Demon Realm become a playground for humans? They come and go as they please. We even lost our King to them."

"It’s a grim reality."

"I couldn’t do anything back then. The King merely viewed it as a delightful diversion, so all I could do was fulfill my duty to defend. As always, I thought it would end after the King dealt with the Hero a few times."

Reflecting on that time, Durin let out a bitter laugh.

"But what happened? The foolish King abandoned their duties, and the rulers of distant lands began to show signs of rebellion. A time has come where we must do everything just to survive, let alone subdue the Hero. Greater waves are on the horizon."

The weight of silence grew heavier. The high-ranking Demons each became lost in thought. Durin threw them a challenge.

"Even so, we are Demons. Beings destined to oppose angels and rule over humans. No matter how difficult, we must not lose our essence."

Demons. Not petty creatures that kill each other in pursuit of power. Powerful beings who thrive on fear and relish the glory of battle.

The purpose of existence they had defined for themselves to survive in this world.

"I will not forget the first verse of the law. Chief Justice, is this response sufficient?"

"It was more than perfect."

Mateus, clutching the sacred text to his chest, bowed deeply. The younger Demons, swept up in the atmosphere, fell to their knees as well.

"Lead the castle, my lord."

"We will follow you alone."

The scene they had once dreamed of was unfolding here. The only blemish was Durin’s lack of response.

"Don’t waste time on useless matters. I’m busy today."

Without looking back, he walked forward. It didn’t matter to them, though.

They simply followed silently along the path Durin had taken.

......

"Such theatrics."

The series of exchanges in the corridor spread throughout the castle. Even Rudmila, who had begun her work in her office, was no exception. Being the closest to the conference room, she had witnessed the scene in real time.

[Even so, don’t forget. We are Demons. Beings destined to oppose angels and rule over humans.]

It was the first verse of the Demon Realm’s law, managed by Chief Justice Mateus. The destiny bestowed upon Demons, one of the first races birthed by the Creator Deity. If angels governed grace and humans crafted life, then demons thrived on fear. The power Demons possessed in the world after death was immeasurable.

However, their innate combative nature caused daily challenges that muddied the waters. Forgetting the roles they were supposed to fulfill had weakened the Demons themselves. That problem had culminated in the worst outcome in the current era.

The unprecedented disappearance of the King seemed, in hindsight, like an inevitable fate. The future Rudmila had predicted as she measured the skies in the Demon Realm’s observatory was always bleak, lending her foresight credibility.

"Sadly, in the current situation, Durin is the only one to rely on. A lowly former gladiator as the leader, no less."

Despite having the most Demon-like upbringing, he was considered the lowest of the low, which was why the Shamans had refused to acknowledge him. They had bowed to his overwhelming power, not accepted him as a true leader.

"For now, it’s just a temporary concession. After all, he isn’t in a position to deny me a share of authority given the dire circumstances."

Among the castle’s Demons, only Rudmila possessed the flexibility to negotiate and mediate with the warlords. The Demon King's Seal, entrusted to her by Durin, would greatly amplify her skills in persuasion and enchantment. It was an opportunity to solve the issues Durin demanded while simultaneously enhancing her own power.

Knowing this well, she would bide her time and wait for the right moment.

"Is anyone outside?"

"Do you need something?"

Rudmila, having finished her thoughts, raised her voice, and a Succubus Maid waiting in the corridor cautiously responded.

"Come with me to the King’s Hall. We need to monitor the angels’ movements and gather traces of the Demon King that the Royal Guard is pursuing."

"Then I’ll summon three Shamans from the observatory."

"Not all of them, just three. The rest need to monitor the movements of the warlords."

- Before Durin draws his sword, I’ll set the stage first.

While the others stumbled aimlessly, Rudmila would prepare methodically.

After all, those fools, unaware of their limits, were destined to die by Durin’s hand.

Even now, news from other corners of the castle spoke of the fools’ continued antics.

Right after Durin left the conference room, the direction he moved in suggested the issue would soon be resolved.

With a fierce gust of bloodshed, no less.

After all, in the face of challenges, he was the cruelest Demon of them all...

"Ugh, just imagining it gives me chills."

The time had come for him to repay the insolent attitudes of the regional warlords when the King disappeared, in his own brutal way.

.......

The reception room was located in an annex a bit away from the King’s Hall.

A stone building nestled tranquilly between the training ground, where soldiers gathered, and [Queen’s Nest], home to a large defensive force.

Its exterior was quite beautiful, but the howls of monstrous beasts echoing through the corridors were enough to drive even Demons mad. Among lower Demons, this place was known as a Den of Evil where it was impossible to endure for long. Some said it gave the same impression as facing the depths of a labyrinth for the first time.

Naturally, it wasn’t a place meant to host esteemed guests of the Demon King's Castle. It was where high-ranking Demons who could pose a threat to the castle were confined.

These were the children of rulers situated in the north, south, east, and west of the Demon Realm’s Central Continent. Hostages sent to prove their loyalty. By keeping direct descendants or high-ranking heirs in the castle, they declared they wouldn’t dare rebel.

But the situation had flipped.

"Why, Father! Why did you do this!"

Crash!

A vase flew in a straight line and shattered on the floor. A woman’s anguished scream, more piercing than the eerie howls of beasts, erupted from one of the rooms.

"Why did you suddenly cut off contact! I’m here, aren’t I? I’m the heir who’s supposed to succeed you and lead the tribe, yet you’ve abandoned me!"

Another crashing sound echoed. This time, a table split in two and crumbled into sawdust. Verdia, the daughter of the Southern Continent's ruler, still seething with anger, gasped heavily with fury.

"No matter how much I think about it, I just can't understand. Why on earth would you do something like this?"

Something incomprehensible had occurred to her. The morning's catastrophe was so shocking that it would be etched into the history of the Demon Realm, and the entire reception room buzzed with heated debates about it. When she first heard the reason, she couldn't help but burst into uncontrollable laughter. To abandon everything for love? And not even taking subordinates into account, leaving purely for personal satisfaction?

He was unfit to be a king. Any demon who encountered that Demon King would simply strike her down. She was a disgrace to the Demon Realm. Such trivial gossip filled the air.

Of course, there was a brief moment of tension upon hearing rumors of the warlords stirring, but fortunately, no one took immediate action. The commotion subsided quickly. While there was unease, no major incident erupted.

However, there was one exception—the Southern Ruler.

As soon as the situation broke out, he cut off all communication. The timing was too odd to dismiss as a simple error. He even severed all secret communication lines with Verdia, his heir. Panicked, Verdia searched high and low for a solution, but the situation only worsened.

"Stop causing a ruckus and stay put."

Bang!

At the soldier's words as he entered, Verdia froze. The soldier, who had observed her every move, declared that acts of rebellion against the castle would not be tolerated. Immediately afterward, he detained all lower-ranking demons connected to the South's communication channels and handed them over to the punishment department. It wasn't long before news arrived that they had been executed. The Southern demons were all hung by their necks in the garden visible from the reception room.

"......."

The sight through the window was chilling. The twisted faces, as if they had felt the agony of death, seemed to stare directly at her. From their contorted expressions, an overwhelming fear radiated.

Her father had abandoned his daughter. As she struggled, she had been powerless and captured.

"You'll end up just like us."

The severed heads seemed to whisper those words. For the first time, fear gripped Verdia, who was born in the South with the most beauty and strength. Her body trembled.

She could do nothing. The fear was so overwhelming that it eclipsed her sense of helplessness.

"Please. Please. Please. Please. I don’t want to die like this. Why am I facing such a fate?"

Verdia slumped over the table. Even as she lay there, her shoulders trembled like leaves, unable to stay still. She wanted to grab onto anything and beg for her life.

If she were to die, she'd rather die honorably in battle. To be executed as a traitor and meet a miserable end was unthinkable.

"Or... should I really cause a ruckus and die that way?"

Verdia muttered as she raised her head. She thought it might be better to meet her end like a demon. Perhaps this was what her father truly wanted.

To sacrifice her life for the independence of her tribe. Since she couldn't escape this castle, it seemed wiser to preserve her honor. That seemed to be the right choice. As a strong warrior of the South, she ought to meet a glorious end.

"......."

Slowly, Verdia stood up. Her trembling body had surprisingly calmed down. She felt as if she had been reborn, not as a weeping girl, but as a warrior.

She had no weapon, but with her bare hands, she resolved to strike down all her enemies outside.

Verdia took determined steps toward the door.

"Hoo..."

Her heart pounded. She felt her blood coursing rapidly, making her neck stiff. Her vision, sharper than usual, reflected the unfiltered excitement of battle.

"Hup!"

She needed no preparatory deep breaths. Verdia kicked the door open and clenched her fist. Remembering the soldier who had threatened her earlier, she vowed to strike him down mercilessly.

And she would meet her end as a true Southern warrior...

"Graaah!"

Verdia's blow was deflected with a faint scream. It was due to a figure clad in black armor standing outside the door. Whatever material it was made of, it was so solid that the strength in her tightly clenched fist dissipated entirely.

Who could possibly be outside? No, wait. Black armor?

In that instant, Verdia realized. There was only one person in the Demon King's Castle who donned such armor.

"Durin?"

"That's correct."

A detached response followed. Thinking she had misheard, she cautiously raised her gaze and caught sight of glowing red eyes.

"Fitting for the daughter of a traitor. Don’t you agree, Spranches?"

"Though born of a barbarian, her courage is commendable."

Durin, the Skull Crusher of the Demon King's Castle, and his assistant, the young lizardman Spranches.

"Ah."

Verdia collapsed to the ground. Fighting, showing willpower—all those thoughts vanished somewhere into the recesses of her mind.

She couldn't win. There was no one under the heavens who could defeat Durin, except for the Demon King herself. And yet, the Demon King was absent!

Her dazed mind suddenly snapped to attention. The return of reason, paralyzed by fear, was swift.

She had swung her fist at Durin. But she had failed.

Instead of a Southern warrior's end, she was about to meet a dog's death.

Finding a way to survive here seemed nearly impossible. Fighting would only lead to the most humiliating outcome imaginable.

Verdia acted with remarkable speed.

"I-I'm sorry! Please! Please! Spare me! At least my life, please spare my life!"

The daughter of the Southern Ruler prostrated herself more perfectly than anyone else. Her posture was so impeccable that even a soldier watching from behind couldn't help but be impressed.

"Forgive me, oh Representative of the Demon King, no, Defense Commander... Ugh! Oh, Heavenly King! I have committed a grave offense!"

But nothing else mattered to Verdia at that moment.

She had to beg for her life, rubbing her palms together fervently.

Honor and pride? They meant nothing when she was about to meet a dog's death.

Thus, the small rebellion came to an anticlimactic end.