And frankly, there were shockingly few people in the Empire who were unhappy about becoming vassals of the Sorcerous kingdom. That was because the Sorcerous Kingdom made very few demands. There were quite a few finely detailed requests, but there were only two main demands.
The first was to amend a part of the Empire’s law — this was to emphasize the absolute nature of the Sorcerer King and his confidants.
The second was to hand over criminals sentenced to the death penalty. This was shocking in the opposite sense. While he had felt that they would suffer horrible fates, one of them had been safely returned for the reason, “He was framed, and so he was innocent.”
And so, one could say that there was practically no change from daily life.
“Come, let’s finish up quick so I can meet my friend.”
Today, a true friend that Jircniv had just made was scheduled to visit him. All the preparations for his welcome were complete, and all that was left was for Jircniv to finish his work.
He spent half an hour taking care of sundry tasks, and then his subordinate entered the room after receiving the approval of his guards and Jircniv himself.
“Your Majesty, your guest has arrived—”
“Ohh! Hurry and let him in!”
His work was not yet finished. Still, what about it? What could be more important than greeting a friend?
Soon, his friend was led into the room by his subordinates.
Jircniv rose, his face all smiles, and he spread his arms in welcome and invited his guest in.
It was a demihuman who looked like a short, squat mole. The enchanted pendant he had given him dangled back and forth.
“Ohhh! Welcome! My true friend, Riyuro!”
Jircniv embraced Riyuro without any hesitation and wrapped his arms around him.
“Ahhh! Jircniv, oh friend with whom I have shared my troubles! I am deeply grateful for your welcome!
Riyuro embraced Jircniv as well. Given the sharp claws on his forelimbs, one could see the gentleness in his movements as he took care not to hurt Jircniv with them.
They held each other for a while, and then slowly broke apart.
“—What are you saying? My doors are always open to you, Riyuro.”
Riyuro grinned.
While a demihuman’s smiling face looked vicious, Jircniv understood that he was smiling. Such was the intimacy of their relationship.
Jircniv was suddenly struck by how interesting this was.
He had been born and raised as a candidate to be the next Emperor, and everyone around him of his age considered him the Crown Prince. Therefore, he had not had anyone he could call a friend. But now, the fact that his first friend was a demihuman—
— Hmph. If I had told my past self from ten or fifteen years ago about this, he wouldn’t have believed it… For this, if nothing else, I have to thank that undead being.
He had first met this dear friend before him in a waiting room when he had gone to seek an audience with the Sorcerer King.
At that time, he had simply wondered where this demihuman had come from and how far the Sorcerer King’s domination reached.
But after that, they met again, and engaged each other in conversation to learn more about each other — and then they clicked. After a minute together that could have been a month, a deep friendship was born.
That was why they no longer addressed each other with honorifics, This was not because they were both kings.
Indeed, it was because the two of them—
— Were both being tormented by the same oppressor — they were comrades in suffering.
“Come, I’ve prepared all sorts of delicacies that will surprise you. Shall we not reward ourselves for our labors today?”
“Ah, I would be glad to, Jircniv. I too have brought many of the mushrooms you said were delicious. Let us eat them later.”
“Ohhh! Thank you, Riyuro.”
The mushrooms Riyuro had brought were fragrant and meaty, and they were a luxury ingredient called Obsidian.
The two of them left the room side by side.
In the past, Jircniv had been uneasy when he heard that the Sorcerous Kingdom treated demihumans the same way it treated humans.
However he snuck a glance at Riyuro beside him and thought.
Demihumans were not that bad. At least, compared to the undead — the Sorcerer King.
“Speaking of which, have you heard, Riyuro? The Sorcerer King seems to have kicked the bucket.”
Riyuro expelled a great rush of air from his nose. This was his way of snorting in laughter.
“Jircniv, that is impossible. How — how could someone like him die?”
“Indeed, I agree with that statement. However… which nation will see its people lamenting this time…?”
“Yes…”
Riyuro and Jircniv both looked to the sky.
There was pain in their eyes. They grieved for a tragedy that was happening in some faraway place, and the shared sympathy that soon they would gain a new comrade.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The cry that suddenly rang through the room made the man go stiff. He belonged to a secret organization called Eight Fingers, and while he had seen many things before, he had never seen an eruption of such dark emotions. It seemed like genuine hatred and unadulterated cursing.
He would not have been shocked if it had come from an enemy. Indeed, he would be smiling instead. However, the person making that sound was a friend, a friend who understood him due to having gone through the same suffering and misery that he had.
Friends — he thought that there could not be a word that was less applicable to him than that.
Until recently, the fellow members of his organization had struggled to hamstring each other, steal power, and searched for each others’ weaknesses every day. If their aims clashed, then there would have been blood.
However, things were different now.
If even one less person could not pull their weight, everyone would have to do more work, and it would be more likely that they would fail. When that happened, they would be held responsible as well and dragged into that hell. Even being punished once would be enough to condemn one to a liquid diet and be plagued by nightmares. For all he knew, there were other hells waiting for him.
With that in mind, whenever anyone began to fall behind in their work, everyone would immediately give them their full support, worry about their health, and fret about their mental state. They would do so desperately.
They had become true companions, those who shared their lives and whose fates were one.
And one of those friends was now screaming and rolling around on the cold stone floor. The fear called “if you don’t find out the reason soon, you’ll end up like that too” drove the man to action.
“What, what is it, Hilma? What happened?”
The wailing woman stopped moving, and her eyes slid up from below to look at the man.
“—I’ve had it! Swap with me! My stomach hurts! I need to watch that idiot’s movements! What the hell’s wrong with him!? Being around that idiot is driving me mad!”
They knew only one man who could be called an idiot. While they had used the word “idiot” often until now, that man was enough to show others what it truly meant to be an idiot, and so they could no longer use the word idiot lightly.
“What is it? What’s that idiot done now?”
Hilma spoke quickly, like she was vomiting her pent-up rage.
“Ah, yes! You heard about it, right, how His Majesty perished!?”
He wanted her to slow down a little, but it sounded like Hilma was venting her stress. Therefore, he did not interrupt her, but listened patiently.