The Demon King Seems to Conquer the World

Galla Godwin returned to his office in the fortress in the castle island that day, wearing an exhausted expression. Since the incident five days ago, the royal capital had been thrown into extreme chaos. Galla Godwin, caught in the middle, experienced the pain of a mid-level management to the fullest. Superiors who seemed bought off, juniors venting their dissatisfaction, subordinates proposing outrageous ideas. Galla’s role was to be squeezed in between them and get all tangled up.

As a result, the sky was now completely dark. Galla hooked the handle of a lamp onto a hook hanging from the dark ceiling of the room. Despite being utterly exhausted, he couldn’t return to his home in the northern district of the capital, because the city was in a state of war. Also, there was no sleeping quarters for Galla in the barracks. It was because he had a home. So, Galla had no choice but to sleep in the office. It was a curse that there was an arm rest in the middle of the long sofa in the reception area. If it weren’t for those, Galla could have slept on the sofa, but instead, he had to lay a sleeping bag on the hard floor.

As he removed his military jacket and hung it over the sofa folded in half. As he prepared to undo his belt and work on his trousers, to put on his military hakama he heard a voice.

“Hey.” (??)

“Whoa!” (Galla)

There was someone in the room. Galla quickly tensed up.

“Wait, it’s the Queen’s Sword. I’ve come to talk.” (??)

The Queen’s Sword. Even so, he didn’t realize that there was someone there when he tried to pull down his pants. Galla thought to himself, he must be truly exhausted. Feeling a bit awkward, he re-fastened the belt he had started to loosen.

“The Queen’s sword, huh? Where is your loyalty toward, now?” (Galla)

“I see… So, she’s still alive after all.” (Galla)

As Galla tried to put his military jacket back on, he felt a gritty texture on his palm from the dust on the jacket. Over the past few days of turmoil, it had become quite dusty. Unable to muster the will to put his sleeves back on, Galla sat on the sofa in just his shirt.

“What’s the talk about? Let’s hear it.” (Galla)

For Galla, the Queen’s Sword was a rare encounter, but he could consider it a close acquaintance. It felt akin to a colleague from another department and was someone with a similar status.

“Let me be straightforward. Come over to our side.” (Tillet)

Tillet said this, leaning lightly against the wall.

“…Hmm.” (Galla)

“To switch sides may seem odd. I follow the rightful ruler.” (Galla)

“And who is this rightful ruler? Surely, Queen Carya is a fake.” (Tillet)

Galla replied dismissively, finding the conversation meaningless.

“The Queen’s Sword recognizes the rightful ruler. While Carya seems to be recognized by Witches, it’s worth debating which is closer to the wishes of Queen Simonei.” (Tillet)

“Hmm…” (Galla)

Galla was tired.

Such logical arguments were tiresome, pushed upon him by subordinates. Over the past five days, he must have heard similar arguments a hundred times. If he added in those overheard while walking, it might have reached a thousand.

“Rook Hou is dead. Your best friend was killed, and you’re okay with that?” (Tillet)

“There’s no justification for that. However, as a soldier, there’s a line that must be understood.” (Galla)

That was a rule deeply ingrained in Galla’s heart.

Chain of command. Those below follow the orders of those above. This was an absolute rule of the military structure, and naturally, those orders sometimes included commands to die. Therefore, the punishment for those who didn’t follow these rules had to be the ultimate penalty, death. The operations conducted by the First Army mainly involved minor tasks like clearing out bandits, resulting in overwhelming differences in firepower between the opposing forces. Desertions were rare, but not unheard of. Galla had once executed a young man who fled from battle. Yet, was he himself willing to break the rules?

Nevertheless, this was just a superficial justification that Galla allowed to rest on his conscience. Deep down, what had truly ingrained these rules in Galla’s heart were the unjust orders routinely issued by his female superior.  No matter how absurd the orders seemed, they had to be obeyed. Even if one believed they were right, they had to bend before orders. Even when it came to decisions that could determine the life or death of subordinates.

Having repeated this for decades, Galla had learned to resign himself to it. He compartmentalized military regulations as absolute and established mechanisms within his mind to prevent emotional interference. While he might act cheerful in front of friends and subordinates, that was the kind of person Galla was.

“You can’t go against Metina Arkhorse, is it?” (Tillet)

Tireto said mockingly.

“Oh, I see. But you don’t need to tell me.” (Galla)

As Galla said this, Tireto stepped away from the wall and walked closer to Galla. He casually grabbed the jacket that was hanging over the sofa and tore off the knight’s emblem from the chest. She ostentatiously dropped it to the ground and trampled on it.

“What are you doing!” (Galla)

Galla, enraged by the sudden desecration of his knightly honor, stood up with a voice full of fury and lunged at Tillet. Tillet didn’t evade but silently allowed Galla to grab his collar.

“You are not a Knight, therefore you have no right to possess this.” (Tillet)

Tillet continued to crush the emblem underfoot while gripping Galla’s thick arm in an odd manner. As he thrust his thumb into a certain point on Galla’s arm with a strength that seemed beyond that of a woman, a sharp pain shot through Galla’s arm. His hand involuntarily opened, releasing the grip on Tillet ‘s collar.

“When you entered the Royal Guards, to whom did you pledge your spear? Was it to Metina Arkhorse? I think not. You must have dedicated your spear to Queen Simonei in her presence. Yet, you forget this and follow Metina despite knowing it goes against the late queen’s wishes. Therefore, you are not a Knight.” (Tillet)

Galla gritted his teeth. He couldn’t retort. The Queen’s Sword remained loyal to the queen precisely because of their absolute devotion. They weren’t chosen by bloodline. Many of them were orphans who had undergone harsh trials that resulted in the deaths of many before reaching their current position. If commanded by the queen, they would kill even infants and offer their bodies to men without hesitation. Yet, their hearts remained proud. It was because of their loyalty to the queen.

They were different from Galla, who now felt like one of the useless Witch’s lackeys. Shaking off unpleasant thoughts, Galla sat back on the sofa.

“Why did you come to me… anyway, the First Army can’t move. The lower ranks aren’t obeying orders.”

Galla glanced at several papers placed on the table between the two sofa seats. Hanging directly beneath the lamp, in the shadow of the light source, it was dark, but it was certainly there. There was hardly anyone left in the royal capital who didn’t know the contents of the paper. Even those who couldn’t read knew the gist. Because of these leaflets being scattered from the sky, previously restrained subordinates had now gone mad with anger, and control was slipping away.

‘Why didn’t we act then? When the Second Army invaded the royal castle and the Queen was on the verge of being murdered, what were we doing just standing by? Weren’t we the Knights of the Queen? Who exactly are we?’

Some soldiers, fully believing in the contents of the leaflets, were shouting such things with tears of blood in their eyes. They might still be shouting now. Just today, a junior brought a paper written by several names, proposing a raid on the headquarters of the First Army with a small group to kill the Witch’s lackeys. I seriously considered throwing them in prison, but if I did that, it might spark an actual rebellion. In this state, it was out of the question to mobilize the army.

“The Second Army has lost its will to fight even before the battle. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the Euclick Knights, who went out in pursuit, were repelled by just one old Knight from the Hou Household and returned with the head of their commander. Survivors are spreading rumors about the terror of the Hou Household. With that, it’s as if they’ve already lost before the battle even started.” (Galla)

From Galla’s perspective, there was no way they would lose if they fought, so there was no need for him to defect. It was not a matter of being overly cautious.

‘Does a lion need insurance to hunt down a wounded rabbit?’

The battle between the Hou Household and the Second Army would be a one-sided massacre. There was no element for the Hou Household to lose.

“Yuri-ku…” (Galla)

Galla started to say but hesitated. He was at the age to graduate from the School of Knight, and he was probably the head of the Hou Household.

“Yuri-dono thinks too much. He can win the battle without my help.” (Galla)

“According to Yuri’s thoughts, the Crusaders will come in a few months. It’s said that the Witches are selling the country to the Crusaders.” (Tillet)

“Huh…?” (Galla)

Galla’s mind stopped completely, stunned.

“Even if the Witch’s plan goes perfectly, Yuri and Her Majesty Carol are poisoned at the royal castle, and Carya becomes queen under the Witch’s control, there’s nothing the Witch gains. Under Queen Simonei’s rule, we could stand united against the Crusaders, but under Carya’s regime, we can’t even do that. Thinking about the Crusaders coming within a few years, it’s nothing but a usurpation that only sees death ahead. So, they must have made a deal to guarantee her own safety in exchange for selling the country to the Crusaders. Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.” (Tillet)

Galla’s mind went blank. The fatigue receded from his muddled mind, replaced by a sharp clarity, but his brain, forced to work forcibly, was experiencing pain.