Right around the centre of my demons’ country, Eskaria, atop the flat summit of the world’s tallest mountain, stood a castle, carved from black stone, majestic as a cathedral or perhaps a palace, known to most of humanity as “the demon lord’s castle”—blatant, unforgivable disregard of the castle’s proper owner.

This castle, like any proper castle, had a throne room, and the throne room had a throne, black as the castle itself. On this not particularly comfortable throne was seated a man in black military garb with a crown on his head—me.

I found myself in the company of, or rather had called to me, all five creatures I had dubbed Demon Generals—Red Dragon Davna, Vampire Princess Charlotte, Arch-Devil Lilith, Witch Queen Tempest, and Grand Slime Navillus—as well as a non-negligible amount of Ghost Maids and Living Armours, ready to obey my will with just a word or a gesture.

There was a simple reason for my orders, which had called my loyal subordinates to the throne room. The presence of five more living beings in that very room, armed to the teeth. Champions of light, reincarnated individuals, saviours—in short, Heroes. Despite the fact that I had once been one of their ilk, I felt naught but pity for the golden-haired, golden-eyed humans before me. Pity, and maybe slight amusement.

“Well, well,” I said, leaning back into the black stone and resting my head on my left hand. “You’ve done well to make it this far, Heroes.” I extended my hand to the right, and immediately, Davna stuck her head under it, allowing me to stroke her. “Allow me to praise you for that.” Unearned—I had made sure they’d reach me without resistance.

I eyed up the Heroes as I spoke, in a vaguely successful attempt to discern their abilities. Though unable to appraise their gear, I had, at the very least, learned of the nature of their hero skills, which were naturally a Hero’s main strength. I was no exception, though my position certainly did serve to increase the power of my skill further.

“Silence, foul creature!” the frontmost Hero said, waving his two-handed sword around in my general direction. “We aren’t here to talk! We’ve come here to smite you!” His status told me he was a Paladin, with a hero skill that makes him immune to fear, and his square chin, broad shoulders and position told me he was the party leader. I noted, but didn’t mention, the absence of a shield anywhere on his person.

I chuckled to myself and narrowed my eyes. “Oh, you do hurt my feelings,” I said, shaking my head as I shifted my hand to scratch Davna’s chin. “Come now, let us not be savages. Surely there is something we could talk about.”

The Grand Priest standing to the side and behind the Paladin distorted his face into a frown and leaned on his expensive-looking staff as a response. “Talk?” he asked, “What would there be to talk about with something like you?” His hero skill increased his magical power while he was casting ritual magic, allowing him to do on his own what would often take several—a dangerous opponent.

“Well,” I said, leaning forward, “one question readily comes to mind.” With a smirk on my face, I spoke the loaded words: “Who do you serve?”

Like puppets whose puppetmaster called them to attention, the Paladin, the Grand Priest, and the Monster Tamer next to him shot into an identical pose—right hand in front of their chest, left hand straight down next to their side, back straight as a stick. “I devote myself wholly to the sacred Goddess of Light, Lady Luciel!” they said, faith overflowing from their golden eyes.

Tragic.

“Hmm. Is that so,” I said. “But-”

“Would you stop talking and fight already?!” the Monster Tamer said, cracking his whip and interrupting me in rather a rude manner. His hero skill allowed him to tame monsters by force, making him more like a slaver than a tamer in my eyes.

I focused my gaze on him and used the skill [Dragon’s Glare] which, as its name implied, traditionally belonged to dragons. “I will not,” I said, “and if I hear another word from you, I will tear you to shreds.”

Overwhelmed by the effect of the skill, the Monster Tamer fell silent and took a step back.

“Good,” I said, and I shook my head and cleared my throat. “Archmage,” I said, pointing with my left hand to the girl dressed in colourful robes, “and…” I turned my gaze and finger to a corner with particularly bad lighting. “You, over there.” The Archmage tilted her head, confused—probably because I mentioned her, specifically—whereas the seemingly empty corner made a sound of surprise. “Who do you two serve?”

The Archmage remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly pondering her answer, before speaking. “Well, uh… If I had to say someone, I’d say Lady Luciel,” she said, tilting her head to the other side. Had I still been a human, surely her unsure gaze would have stolen my heart—well, nothing like that happened, though. I looked at the grimoire she carried—an unusual choice of weapon, but one well-suited to her hero skill. Then I turned my attention to the ‘empty corner’.

“Tch,” a voice said, “you’ve found me already, so I guess there ain’t no point in hiding.” Lo and behold, out from the shadows stepped the fifth Hero: a Thief, dressed in black and with the hero skill to blend in with his surroundings. “As for your question, I don’t serve no one except myself. Money, if it’s convenient. What’s it to ya, anyway? You’re a demon, right? Why do ya care?”

“Hmph,” I snorted, the smirk on my face distorting into a sneer. I removed my right hand from Davna’s chin and patted her on the snout a few times before retracting my hand and placing it on my knee. “Davna, Charlotte,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “The Archmage and the Thief can be saved. Slaughter the rest without hesitation.”

At my words, Davna raised her body from its lazy position—leaning against my throne—and used [Telepathy] to have her words resound in my mind. «Leave it to me, Master!» she told me, and she set her sharp gaze on the Heroes’ leader… though, the moment she realised her skill [Dragon’s Glare] was ineffective, she moved her eyes to the Grand Priest instead.

Charlotte, sitting at her own round little table, couldn’t stifle a sigh as she set down her cup of tea. “As always, thy commands are rath’r lacking in elegance,” she said, yet despite her words, she stood up and locked eyes with the Paladin. “Still, I do not disagree with the notion o’ removing them from their mis’ry.” A pair of pitch-black wings, shaped like those of a bat, but appearing as if made from pure shadows, emerged from her back, and she took her ceremonial knife in her left hand as her eyes glowed a deeper red.

The three Demon Generals who I hadn’t given any orders simply remained where they were, doing what they were doing—of course, that meant something different for each of them. Navillus was, for tactical purposes, located in the ceiling of the room, hidden away from prying eyes. The only evidence of her existence were the slight turquoise tint of the ceiling and the occasional drop of slime. Lilith, half cloaked in the natural shadows of the room, was leaned into a corner, more interested in the indecent-looking book in her hands than in the Heroes, while Tempest had found a similar obsession in her latest invention—some manner of magical device I gave rather low odds of survival.

I had half a mind to scold the latter two, but I decided to refrain on the grounds that I didn’t particularly need their help.

The Paladin readied his sword once more, pointing it at Charlotte—it seemed he had noticed her gaze. The Grand Priest grabbed his staff even while affected by [Dragon’s Glare] and started a prayer, intending to further layer magical enhancements on the already rather enchanted party, and soon, a golden magic circle appeared under his feet, large enough for each of the Heroes to stand on it. With a bit of digging, I recognised it as the spell [Light-Attribute Magic: Over Boost], which would raise the abilities of the whole party.

The Archmage performed a rather similar action, opening her grimoire and chanting a spell—yet, my instincts recognised her spell as many times more dangerous. With far less digging, I recognised it as [Light-Attribute Magic: Grand Exorcism]—although it had a chant time of an entire minute, if I allowed her to cast this spell, she could kill any of us with one attack. Of course, a minute was ample time for us to-

My train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a crash. I looked over to find that the Thief had been thrown against a wall, presumably after attempting to sneak up on Davna from behind. Of course, her tail was more than enough to deal with someone of his level. Perhaps in good fortune, the sound had snapped the Archmage out of her concentration, forcing her to start over.

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The Monster Tamer seemed to take the sound as a sort of signal to summon his ‘tamed’ monsters, calling forth a Star Wolf and Several Direwolves. And yet, by doing such in an attempt to protect himself, he had instead doomed himself.

I raised my now-unoccupied right hand in his direction and extended a metaphysical part of it halfway across the room, gently caressing the souls of the wolves—and then tore them asunder, leaving behind only the inherent, if rather weak, loyalty towards the Demon Lord that any monster would have.

“I don’t enjoy doing this, but…” I turned my eyes down, idly looking at my already retracted, gloved hand, before looking back up. “To me,” I said, and the wolves ignored the Monster Tamer’s several orders he shouted in increasing frustration and made their way to the bottom of the steps under my throne, lowering their heads to me.

“Why are you following his orders?!” the Hero asked them, though of course there was no reply. “You’re supposed to be my monsters!” I tried my best not to show my distaste for the spit flying out of his mouth.

I leaned back into my throne, calm and collected, and looked deep into the Monster Tamer’s eyes. “Perhaps,” I said, “the title ‘Demon Lord’ will be a good hint as to what I did.”

“Demon Lord… don’t tell me, you can…?!”

“Indeed, you insolent slaver. I figured, if they’d be mindlessly serving a master, I’d rather they fight alongside their allies than the likes of you.” I shook my head. “In truth, this is one of the only times I’ve done this—yet, I cannot deny it feels good. I must take care to prevent this from turning into a habit…”

“Don’t just go off and talk to yourself after that, you bastard!”

“Ah, how kind of you to remind me I must dispose of you.” I once again extended my right hand in the Monster Tamer’s direction, although this time with a pointing finger, like a judge condemning a criminal to a death sentence. The wolves, in response, turned around and faced the Monster Tamer, growling as they kept their bodies low.

Charlotte grasped her ceremonial knife rather tightly and, just like that, cut a wound into her right wrist. Using the skill [Bloodworks], she manipulated the gushing blood like it were still a part of her body, shaping it into an elegant one-handed sword, which she took in hand, and a number of spears that remained in the air behind her. She took on a battle-ready stance as she faced the Paladin, wings spread to either side, and rushed in his direction, soon locking swords with him.

Davna batted her tail on the ground and raised her right foreleg, holding her claws in the air above the Grand Priest. I could tell the Paladin wanted to hit them away, but he was rather preoccupied at the moment. With quite some force, Davna dropped her foot on the Grand Priest, coming into contact with the barrier he’d erected around himself—though I could already see cracks forming.

Keeping my eye on the Archmage, I figured there was no time to lose, so, without a shred of emotion in my voice, I activated the skill [Demon Lord’s Authority] and spoke a single word: “Kill.”

As if driven into a frenzy by my voice, the wolves jumped forwards and, not bothered by his whip, tore the Monster Tamer to shreds—of course, they were significantly helped by the fact that his companions were all rather busy.

Charlotte’s swordplay sped up rather a decent amount, allowing her to easily overwhelm the Paladin with speed and finesse alone, and soon, she’d driven her sword and several spears into a number of gaps in his plate armour and all but sucked him dry of blood.

Davna needed only to put a little more force on her foot to shatter the barrier protecting the Grand Priest to pieces, and with the barrier came the Hero himself, reduced to not much more than a fine paste. Even his rather expensive-looking staff was reduced to mere wood splinters by the force of a dragon’s claw.

With a smirk, I stood up from my throne and walked down the steps it was on, in the direction of the only remaining conscious ‘opponent’—the Archmage. That’s not to say the Thief was dead, he was just unconscious, although I somehow doubted he’d wake up without external stimulation.

I raised my hands to both sides, in an almost welcoming gesture, as I spoke, a faint smile on my face: “Come now, fellow reincarnator. Drop the spell. They won’t hurt you unless I tell them to. It is not too late for you—I can save you from Lady Luciel’s puppetstrings, and then you can do as you like.”

I put my hand on her shoulder, which startled her into stopping her spell—but, understandably, she didn’t look like she trusted me. With a sceptical expression on her face, she looked into my eyes—particularly, she focused on my left, golden eye.

“Fellow,” she said, “reincarnator…? You’re… a H-Hero too?”

I shook my head. “Was. I was a Hero. However, I managed to release myself from Lady Luciel’s brainwashing, and with my power, I can do the same for you.”

“B… Brainwashing…” she mumbled to herself, falling into thought for all of a single second. Afterwards, she grasped my shoulders rather tightly. “So I was right, then?!”

I chuckled, removed her hands from my shoulders, and shoved her backwards to take some distance. I allowed an interested expression to play across my face as I spoke. “Right?” I asked. “About what?”

“About Lady Luciel!” she answered with a surprising amount of vigour in her voice. “You know, how she’s a, a manipulative goddess. Who, uh, views humans as things that should worship her.”

Half sarcastically, I clapped my hands. “You figured it out,” I said, “congratulations. Now hold still.”

Though a little confused, she did as I asked, giving me the second I needed to cast a specific spell. After that second of chanting, I spoke the spell’s name: “[Darkness-Attribute Magic: Reveal Light].”

After a momentary purple glow, my spell revealed a peculiar bug-like creature firmly attached to the back of her head. “That,” I said, handing the Archmage a hand mirror, “is an Azalyth. They’re what Lady Luciel uses to brainwash her poor, poor puppets. And this one is dead meat.” I used the skill [Devil Bindings] to lock it in place as I started chanting another spell. It took a whole minute, and the whole chant sounded rather like the one the Archmage was using earlier, except inverted.

“[Original Magic: Annihilation of Light].”

The Azalyth went up into purple mist, which I identified as miasma. I decided I’d leave it alone. “With this,” I said, chuckling to myself, “several weeks’ worth of Lady Luciel’s power has gone up in smoke.”

“S, Several weeks’ worth…?” the Archmage questioned, tilting her head.

Silently wishing it had been a certain other person tilting her head, I answered. “Yes. They take a fair amount of effort to make. Even with her amount of believers, she can only make one every few weeks…”

“M’Lord,” Charlotte cut in, “if I mayst be so rude, I do b’lieve that thou hath bonded enough with the lass.” She looked somewhat dissatisfied—something I paid no mind to. “Time is of the essence, nay? Thou must make haste to slay the Azalyth preying on the Slayer lad’s mind, too.” She gestured loosely towards the Thief’s unconscious body.

“Ah, you are right, of course,” I said, ignoring the Archmage’s mutterings about the word ‘m’lord’. “Then, without further ado.”

I did the same to the Thief as I had done to the Archmage, with the only difference being the consciousness of the subject. Afterwards, I used the skill [Strength Enhancement], which commonly belonged to high-ranking Ogres, and clapped in the Thief’s face in a successful attempt to wake him up.

He woke up, jumped to his feet, and took on a defensive position, all in one movement—but soon dropped his newly adopted stance in favour of inspecting his joints with a puzzled face. “The force oppressing me… is gone?” he asked, flexing his arms and moving his other joints.

I did not respond, instead opting to sit back down in my throne. My Demon Masters also returned to their initial positions.

“Heroes,” I said, addressing the pair. “Rejoice. Today, you have been liberated. Liberated from the shackles on your mind, and liberated from the force limiting your growth. I shall grant you the honour of a self-introduction.”

I raised my right hand, in response to which Davna placed a finger in it. “I am he who owns a Red Dragon—a being capable of burning a continent to the ground.” She roared in what I took to be some kind of joy.

I caught a drop of slime that fell relatively nearby in my hand and toyed with it a little before tossing it aside. “I am he who has raised a mere Slime into the unopposable force known as a Grand Slime—Navillus.” She squelched, which I interpreted as some manner of happiness.

I chuckled to myself. “I am the lord of the Vampire Princess and rightful heir to the crown, Charlotte.” She raised her cup lightly into the air.

“I am the patron of the mighty Arch-Devil who rules the mind, Lilith.” She lazily raised her hand.

“I am both the teacher and the student of the Witch Queen who outdoes even the world’s greatest minds, Tempest.” She was too absorbed in her activities to even notice she was being named, so she gave no response—I decided to let it go.

I narrowed my eyes and leaned further back into my throne, leaning my head on my hand. “I am the Demon Lord, personally chosen for this role by Lady Entropy, Goddess of Darkness.” Even to my words overflowing with devotion, there was no response—no surprise. She was far too shy to speak up in a situation like this.

“I am the one who shall strike down Lady Luciel and her tyranny masquerading as a benevolent rule. Let it be known that my name is Astaroth.”

On my face was my most confident, haughty sneer yet.