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Chapter 222. Lying on a Bed of Fire and Tasting Gall

After the audience with the Mad Demon Lord’s Prince, Zilbagias concluded, Sebastian and the others were led into a small meeting room.

It seemed they were instructed to discuss and gather their thoughts before returning to everyone else. The room was occupied solely by those of the alliance, with no guards present. Warm tea and snacks were even provided.

Well, internal conversations would probably be overheard outside anyway…

“Well then… what shall we do? Everyone.”

It’s true that the shock is still lingering, but staying silent forever won’t help. We have to make good use of the time we’ve been given, Sebastian broke the silence.

“What on earth is that prince’s aim…?”

One of the wounded soldiers muttered, tossing a pickle from the snacks into his mouth.

“Perhaps it is as it seems.”

Staring at the wobbly cup of tea, the Priestess Apprentice replied.

“At this point, it’s more beneficial for him to have us work rather than kill us all. And if we gain power and rebel in the future, that would lead to war, which is fine by him…”

“…Are all the Demon Race like that?”

“Who knows… This is the first time I’ve seen them seriously converse, so I can’t say for sure…”

Indeed. As the Priestess Apprentice pointed out, the estrangement between the alliance and the Demon Lord Kingdom is intense.

There has been no communication outside of warfare, so we have no clear idea of what the Demon Race is really like.

“…That prince didn’t have a bad smell to him.”

Slurping his tea, the black-furred Beastman mumbled.

“A bad smell?”

As Sebastian asked again, the Beastman tapped his nose with a finger.

“Liars tend to have a certain unpleasant odor. Even among Beastmen, it’s a vague notion that splits opinions, so it’s more of a gut feeling… Besides, I wonder if it even applies to the Demon Race.”

…If he’s not lying, it would mean he’s genuinely pressing us to rebel, a crazy governor indeed…

“Well… in any case, it seems we don’t have many options. Even if that prince has other intentions, deciphering his madness is likely difficult.”

The Priestess Apprentice pulled back from using a slightly dangerous word and used more neutral expressions as she gulped down her tea.

“That’s right. For now, we must figure out how to handle this tax.”

Sebastian turned his attention to the documents in front of him.

There’s a grace period until next year, so taxes are almost exempted. The flip side is that if we don’t solidify our livelihood this year, we won’t manage when next year comes.

—It would be a shame if we just couldn’t manage, but there’s even the possibility of the Autonomous District being dismantled.

“We need to sort out the overgrown fields this year while planting wheat and beans. We should also start securing feed for the livestock; otherwise, it will impact the animal husbandry.”

Sebastian doesn’t have direct experience in agriculture or livestock farming. However, since he’s been involved in managing noble territories, he understands a fair bit about arrangements. Staring at the documents, he was roughly calculating the food necessary for winter, the feed that could be left for the next year, projected harvests, and taxes in his mind.

Suddenly looking up, Sebastian scanned those gathered in the room.

“Is there anyone here with experience as a shepherd or cattle herder?”

“I used to be a farmer. I kept a few chickens, but that’s about it…”

“I grew up in a merchant family. I joined the Holy Church right after becoming an adult.”

“I was born a warrior. I’ve lived by hunting.”

“Same here.”

Everyone responded, but unfortunately, it seemed there wasn’t anyone well-versed in large-scale livestock farming among them.

“Hmm… In that case, after we return to our respective rooms, we should look for personnel in this area.”

Better look for them because not finding them could be a serious matter.

“By the way, how about we introduce ourselves? We’ll likely have more opportunities to face each other moving forward.”

The Priestess Apprentice suggested.

—Those present were representatives of isolated groups. They were likely to play a central role in the future operation of the Autonomous District.

“I’m the Priestess Apprentice, Mycin. I’m still in training, so I can only use basic healing miracles, but I look forward to working with you…”

The Priestess Apprentice—Mycin bowed, and then everyone glanced at each other, wondering who would go next.

“…I’m Sebastian. I suppose you all already know me.”

As he introduced himself, seated next to Mycin, laughter erupted since Sebastian was the only one asked for his name by the Demon Lord’s Prince.

“I’m Tafuman. I grew up on a farm, just an ordinary soldier. I only have the trait of healing a bit quicker than others, so don’t expect much from me.”

The wounded soldier shrugged, patting the bandage on his left arm.

“I’m Dobel. I was part of the kingdom’s forest rangers… In my room, there aren’t any colleagues. If you see any Beastman soldiers in your rooms, could you let them know I’m alive?”

The sleek-faced black-furred Beastman bowed his head. Naturally, everyone readily agreed.

—As they moved on with the self-introduction, it became clear that most of the “representatives” were just commoners or ordinary soldiers.

The dark reality that the leadership and commander-level personnel had all perished in battle was also becoming starkly evident.

“In any case, we should focus on healing injuries and illnesses for now. If the workforce doesn’t increase…”

Sebastian frowned as he gazed at the tax-related documents.

Basically, the tax seems to take the form of a head tax and will be levied based on the number of people listed on the ‘Autonomous District Resident Registry.’

And at present, even if one is registered on that list, some might be unable to work due to injuries or illnesses. Others need to cover for them. This year, there’s no problem since tax has been almost exempted, but starting next year—those with injuries or illnesses that have no hope of recovery will honestly become a headache.

However, surprisingly, according to the Demon Lord’s Prince, even if the population of the Autonomous District increases in the future, whether to register on the list would come down to individual choice. So, there are instances where one might choose to avoid registration and live as a ‘stray’ to evade taxes.

But…

‘—In essence, you all are the loyal dogs of His Majesty the Demon Lord.’

The words of Prince Zilbagias resurfaced.

Those listed on that registry would be protected as “loyal dogs.” Conversely, if one is not registered, they would be treated not much differently than a stray dog.

For all we know, even if they are killed or abducted by the Demon Race, they wouldn’t even be able to report the incident.

In the future, captives—or rather Autonomous District citizens—will gradually be allowed to roam areas of the royal capital, but if new residents come in, those who look like they could hardly work might purposely avoid registration and be isolated, while others would protect them.

“Ugh…”

Between agriculture, livestock farming, organizing guards, allocating jobs, and how the houses will be used once the city is liberated, there’s a mountain of tasks and wants piling up, leading to a bit of a dizzy spell for Sebastian.

“For now… we must live.”

As if spurred on by his own words, the others nodded vigorously.

“Also… I think we need to choose a leader among us.”

Mycin said gently.

“Isn’t it fine to have either Priestess or Sebastian take the lead?”

Tafuman munched on his snacks, saying it casually.

“Yeah, it’d definitely be better to have one of you two rather than us.”

Dobel, arms crossed, also nodded.

The others seemed to agree too, their gazes converging on Sebastian and Mycin.

“Well, I’m just an apprentice and still quite young… so I think it should be Sebastian.”

“But…”

Sebastian hesitated.

“…I’m from another country. From the Proe = Lefshi United Kingdom… I am not a citizen of the Defteros Kingdom.”

From what I’ve heard, everyone here was a citizen of Defteros. Moreover, the Autonomous District is named after Evaroti. The idea of me, an outsider, being the leader felt incredibly audacious.

“What are you talking about? That doesn’t matter, Sebastian.”

Tafuman smiled wandlessly.

“We’ve never made any major decisions ourselves. We’re just soldiers, after all!”

“Where one is from or what blood runs in one’s veins doesn’t matter. The capable must take the lead.”

“Exactly! I can’t even read or write!”

“Nobody’s asking you to do it.”

Another ex-soldier chimed in, riding the playful banter from the wounded soldier, and everyone broke into laughter.

“Sebastian, you served a noble, right?”

“…Yes. I was a steward.”

“Then there’s simply no one more qualified than you. Plus… Sebastian, you’ve already been recognized by His Highness.”

Mycin’s remark became the decisive factor.

“…Understood.”

Sebastian nodded, feeling the weight of the responsibility anew.

—I had intended to die in the royal castle.

But by some twist of fate, surviving and becoming a captive here…

To be entrusted with the role of leader in the first-ever Autonomous District of the Demon Lord Kingdom…

“With all due respect, I, Sebastian—”

…My lady.

It seems I’ll have to let you wait a bit longer.

“I will serve wholeheartedly as your leader, ensuring we don’t disgrace the name of my house, the Baron family of Da-Roza.”

My old bones still seem quite far from death.

†††

After the captives departed.

While I sat back on the throne, quenching my throat with grape juice (since I’m six years old), Nichar approached, rubbing his hands together.

“Wow, Your Highness, that was a magnificent speech! The lower races seemed completely overwhelmed by your presence!”

…There are Beastman soldiers from the Demon Lord’s Army nearby, you know? It might not be wise to clump the captives together as “lower races” and ruffle the feathers of the Beastmen, so perhaps you should tread lightly.

“I might have been a bit too intimidating.”

If I too easily agree, I might garner resentment myself, so I responded without nodding along.

“With that level of intimidation, don’t you think it completely quashes any sparks of rebellion?”

I can’t imagine those defeated soldiers would have the spirit to stand against us… Nichar mused nonsensically. What the hell…

“In that case, the masterpiece of yours, the Oshi Maier Seat, will take the stage. If we stir up feelings of resentment, it could easily ignite the former citizens. That’s why I acted as I did.”

“Oh…! To have that utilized in such a manner is truly an honor! Oh, Your Highness, you are quite the schemer…”

Haha, I don’t want to be told that by you.

“Well, anyway…”

I pushed the empty grape juice cup toward Nichar and stood up.

“When and how to provoke them is my decision. I won’t say to treat them like guests, but please be careful not to step on anyone’s toes.”

“Yes, at your command!!”

Nichar seemed overly confident as he declared, but it made me immensely uneasy…

“………..”

I sent a glance toward Tavo and Porkun as well (I’m counting on you). They nodded back, signaling (We’ll keep it in mind) (We’ll ask for permission when necessary), indicating they understood. These guys seem to get it.

…Well, there’s little choice.

There are plenty of uneasy points, but for now, I suppose I’ll head back to the Demon Lord’s Castle.

For next week’s banquet…

I also need to place my order for my Bon-Dage style…

 

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