The chamber of the Demon Army was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of ancient magic and the faint hum of dark energy. The Ten Demon Generals sat in a circle, their faces hidden by mystical veils of shadow, their postures regal as they convened for a meeting of the highest importance.

Today’s gathering wasn’t just about world domination or conquering the lands of men. No, this meeting was about Fujino Tetsuya, the 665th Demon Lord, who had somehow abandoned his post in the most ludicrous and inexplicable way possible.

As the room fell silent, Dahlia, one of the more senior generals, stepped forward. She was tall, commanding, and her aura practically oozed authority. But today, her normally composed expression was cracked, a vein pulsing on her temple as she prepared to report to the others.

“My esteemed colleagues,” Dahlia began, her voice cool but tinged with frustration. “I regret to inform you that the situation has only become more absurd.”

The other generals shifted slightly, their attention piqued. They had all been hearing rumors about Fujino Tetsuya—the Demon Lord who had abandoned his post without warning, leaving the Demon Army in a state of disarray. But it wasn’t until Dahlia’s latest report that they realized just how insane things had truly gotten.

“Fujino Tetsuya is... no longer the man we once knew,” Dahlia continued, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “He has completely lost it, you see. He’s gone from ruling the Demon Army to… farming.”

A series of confused murmurs passed through the generals. One general leaned in, intrigued. “Farming? A Demon Lord? He… he left his post to become a farmer?”

Dahlia nodded grimly. “Yes. He’s been using his demon magic to grow crops. Most notably, an apple tree grove. In his underwear.”

The generals looked at one another in stunned silence. This was not the report they had expected. Some of them even appeared to be physically recoiling at the mental image of their once-feared Demon Lord dancing around naked, sowing seeds like a common farmer.

“But wait,” one general ventured hesitantly, “Why would he abandon his throne to farm? Wasn’t he the most powerful of us all? The Demon Lord who...”

“The Demon Lord who could summon entire armies at will?” Dahlia interjected. “Yes, that was the man we once knew. But now… he spends his days squatting in front of apple trees, doing… strange rituals, acting like he’s in a video game.”

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The generals exchanged uneasy glances. “What... What kind of ‘rituals’ exactly?” another general asked, already regretting asking the question.

Dahlia hesitated, her cheeks turning slightly pink as she recalled the details. “I witnessed one of his... performances. He danced in front of the apple tree, chanting... something about ‘summoning the power of nature.’ He stripped down to his underwear, painted his face with camouflage... and then proceeded to do some kind of war dance. His underwear kept shifting around... and his body movements—” She paused, visibly trying to regain her composure.

One of the generals fainted in her seat.

Dahlia, pressing on despite the absurdity of the situation, took a deep breath. “We need him back. His magic and leadership are far too valuable to let slip away. But the question is… how do we get him back to his senses?”

The generals were silent for a long moment. Finally, a voice spoke from the shadows, a low and gravelly tone that cut through the tension.

“I propose we use the one thing that never fails to draw him out of his stupor: his ego.”

A general stepped forward, her veil glimmering faintly. “What do you mean?”

“We appeal to his pride, his desire for recognition, and remind him of the power he once wielded. If there’s one thing I know about Tetsuya, it’s that he craves attention. He craves the validation of his greatness. If we can make him think he’ll be revered as the greatest Demon Lord once more, I’m sure he’ll be back in action.”

Another general nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. We could organize a grand ceremony of sorts, praising his ‘achievements’ and offering him the title of ‘Supreme Demon Lord’—maybe even throw in a little bit of flattery about his farming skills. That should appeal to him, yes?”

“Or we could just throw a big party. If there’s one thing that’ll get his attention, it’s an overwhelming display of power and grandeur. A real spectacle,” another general suggested.

But Dahlia was not convinced. She folded her arms. “I’ve seen the way he is now. This man is beyond just pride. I don’t know if flattery will work. We need something more... ridiculous.”

The generals nodded in unison. It was clear they were now discussing something that required more than just a show of power or prestige.

“We need to send him a message,” Dahlia said with a dark smirk. “A message he can’t ignore. We’ll send him an invitation, and he’ll see the grand effort we’ve made to bring him back. If he doesn’t respond, we’ll use force.”

“Right. Let’s gather the troops!” one general shouted.

But before they could prepare, Dahlia looked into the sphere again—only to see the latest ritual that Fujino had performed.

The image zoomed in to reveal Fujino Tetsuya, now covered in camouflage face paint, his underwear barely hanging on, as he performed an elaborate ritual dance, swinging his hips around in circles. His face was twisted in a mad grin as he shouted at the tree in front of him, completely oblivious to the ridiculousness of the situation.

“And this is our Demon Lord,” Dahlia said with a deep sigh, as the other generals watched in stunned silence.

Some of them began to faint again.