At the very core of the Realm of Sloth stood the Demon King's citadel. Dark mana hung so thickly in the air that even sunlight couldn't pierce it.
From the gloom, a stiff-faced noble slowly emerged. He strode down the endless corridor—cautious, yet swift. After what felt like an age, he reached the massive doors at its end and pushed them open.
There, a stairway stretched upward into shadow. From the heights above came a voice, languid yet resonant. "It has been some time since I saw you move with such urgency, Duke Judas."
"I come to pay my respects before His Majesty, the Great Demon King," Judas declared.
Just the sound of the being's breath drained the will from everything nearby. His mere existence alone was enough to steep the world in indolence.
Upon a throne of blood-red stone, the Demon King of Sloth slowly rose.
Step.
He descended one stair at a time, each movement unbearably sluggish.
"I commanded you to bring me the head of that wretched Laia," he said. "Your coming here must mean you succeeded?"
"I beg your forgiveness. Laia's forces swell by the day... I fear she may have allied with the Demon King of Havoc."
"Is that so?" Sloth asked.
"I am truly sorry—" Judas apologized and bowed deeply.
But suddenly...
Fwsshhk!
A violet blade shot from behind and pierced his shoulder. He didn't flinch, nor even groan. He merely kept his head lowered, begging silently for mercy.
Seeing him make no attempt at defiance, Sloth clicked his tongue. He asked, "Tsk tsk. Why didn't you even try to resist?"
"I am a sinner, your Majesty," Duke Judas answered.
"How well you spout honeyed words. Or is it that you are confident I will not kill you?" Sloth asked.
He stopped before Judas and tilted his head. His golden cloak brushed the ground—only to turn instantly violet as if stained by the darkness that oozed from him.
He seized Judas' chin in one hand and said, "Very well. You must have a reason to stand before me without fulfilling my command. Speak. I shall hear you."
"Your boundless mercy humbles me," Judas whispered. He drew a breath and began, "There has been a grave development in the northern territories, near the North Sea. It concerns the fief of Count Dinatrius."
"Dinatrius... Ah, the ambitionless count. Hmph. Any demon who fails to hunger for a higher station is destined for extinction," Sloth said.
His memory stirred, and he nodded faintly. That land was barren, fit only for the outcasts of demonkind. Its soldiers were too weak to have even been summoned for the war against Laia.
"Did his vassals rebel, then?" Sloth asked.
"...Just before dawn today, all contact with Dinatrius' fief ceased. The last report was dire enough that I hurried to you at once," Judas replied.
"Go on," Sloth said.
"Humans have seized Dinatrius's domain," Judas reported.
At the word "human," Sloth's languid expression darkened. But then, to Judas' shock, a wild joy broke across his face.
"Humans?" Sloth echoed.
He had already heard rumors of the continent preparing an expedition into the Demon Realm. At first he had laughed, because he wondered what short-lived mortals could possibly achieve here in a land suffused with dark mana. Yet they had set foot upon it after all.
The so-called expedition had truly begun.
"This is amusing, very amusing," Sloth remarked. Dark mana surged from his body, thicker than before.
"Was it Halo Leston who crossed over himself?" he asked.
He remembered the Eastern Great Forest well. His grand design to carve out a dominion there, leading dark elves as the vanguard, had been undone by a single human.
Cursed be the Ducal Family of Leston. Cursed be Halo Leston—the traitor's heir.
But Judas shook his head quickly and said, "Scouts confirmed that only a handful of humans landed. The one who took Dinatrius' land wielded a sword of deep, dark blue."
"A dark blue blade... Without doubt, it should be Guillotine," Sloth said.
The Demon King's eyes gleamed. In this age, there was only one man who bore that weapon—Caron Leston, grandson of Halo. Once nothing more than Havoc's plaything, a mere insect. Now, grown enough to even reach the Demon Realm.
Two battlefronts had opened at once. Laia's lascivious horde pressed from the front, and now vermin from the continent struck from behind.
But rather than rage, Sloth felt delight. Above all, the knowledge that Caron Leston himself had come filled him with elation.
"Caron Leston swallowed half of Slaughter's power," he said.
That fool Slaughter had overreached and been split in two. One half devoured by Laia. The other half by Caron Leston.
But unlike Laia, a demon, Caron could never have truly digested that power. He was human, after all.
"If I kill Caron and claim his strength, wiping out Laia's half-measure will be child's play," Sloth said.
It was as if an unexpected gift had been laid before him. If he absorbed Caron, and then Laia...
"Havoc will pose no obstacle either," Sloth murmured.
And with Havoc consumed, the next step would be clear: Crossing the Veil of the Void. Seizing the primordial power that had existed since the beginning.
If he claimed even the Void itself, he would finally reach that ancient desire.
"Hahaha!" tSloth threw back his head and laughed. He waved one hand, dismissing the tension in the air, and addressed his kneeling vassal.
"Tell the nobles: Welcome our guests from the continent. To the one who performs with the greatest merit, I shall personally bestow a duke's crown," Sloth ordered.
"I will convey Your Majesty's command at once," Judas answered.
"At last! This accursedly stagnant land begins to twist and writhe!" Sloth exclaimed.
His laughter rang with exultation. The moment of fate's decision was drawing near. The long age of Sloth was at last moving toward its end—one way or another.
The Demon Realm, the entire world itself, had begun to warp.
And the Demon King of Sloth welcomed the change with open arms.
***
From a wretched imperial slave trader to the first Immigration Director in history, Cobler was a legend in his own right. Yet even he couldn't hide his bewilderment at the new command handed down to him.
"S-So, you're saying I should train these people well... Is that it, Young Master?" Cobler asked, his voice trembling.
"That's right," Caron Leston replied casually. "Cobler, it's time for you to put your specialty to use for our expedition. This is what you do best, isn't it? Training slaves and helping them adapt. As the saying goes, even feces can be used as medicine—and right now, you're that feces."
"...I knew it. My dream last night was ominous. This place will be my grave," Cobler whispered.
The very fact that he had come to this cursed land, the Demon Realm, terrified him. Now he had been saddled with a burden far beyond his strength.
The Immigration Bureau had been created by decree of Emperor Revelio himself. Once a mere slave trader, Cobler had risen to an imperial official—a director, no less—and had lived a life of ease. All thanks, of course, to Caron Leston.
A nobody from a border city, who had received both a title and an office of power—he owed everything to Caron.
...I should have refused his proposal, Cobler thought.
Naturally, his presence on this expedition was Caron's doing.
He said he needed help, and I promised I'd do anything... but who could have imagined he meant to drag me into the Demon Realm itself?! Cobler thought.
Caron's request had reached him through a crystal communication orb. Thrilled to hear from Caron after so long, Cobler had accepted without hesitation.
And unexpectedly, the Oceanwolf Knight Order had escorted him personally, guiding him through a warp gate straight into Raelnia. No sooner had he arrived than he was whisked onto the back of a dragon—an actual dragon out of legend—and carried off into the Demon Realm.
"L–Lord Caron," Cobler stuttered, "there are many more capable men than me. Why... Why me?"
Caron idly dug at his ear with a finger, answering with all the seriousness of someone swatting a fly, "I needed someone good at handling freed slaves, and your ugly face came to mind. Even after all these years, it's still unforgettable, Cobler."
"T-Thank you," Cobler muttered weakly.
"Plenty more slaves will be freed soon. This is your specialty, so you'll take charge of it. Do your job well and I'll recommend you to His Majesty for a higher title. How about Count? Count Cobler has a nice ring, doesn't it?" Caron asked.
"And if I refuse, even now...?" Cobler cautiously asked.
"Oh, that reminds me," Caron said, almost cheerfully. "Did you know, Cobler—if Seria withdraws her blessing from you, you'll be instantly tainted by dark mana? When it seeps into the brain, an ordinary human loses their mind right away. Just so you know."
"Ghhhk!" Cobler gagged.
It had been years since he last saw Caron Leston, yet that infernal personality was unchanged. To think Caron would openly threaten him with death.
It felt as though he had been dragged to the slaughterhouse. But he wondered what choice he had. If he wanted to live, he would have to obey.
"Cobler, I trust you. Do well," Caron said as he patted him on the shoulder twice, and then walked away with Leo at his side.
Leo glanced back and murmured, "Kind of pitiful, isn't he?"
"He should be grateful we even let a former slave trader join the expedition," Caron said flatly.
"...You didn't let him. You dragged him," Leo pointed out.
"Even with that face, he's second to none at handling people. We can't afford to be picky right now, can we?" Caron asked.
It was true. Cobler had proven his worth in Reben, a southern border city. He had a rare talent in training slaves and turning them into capable workers.
And so Cobler was brought to do the same to demons, no less—former slave demons whose minds and wills had been so crushed they could barely think, let alone act. Though Caron had freed them, they had been lost, unable to grasp what to do with themselves.
That was why Caron had brought Cobler. In this field, he was the expert.
"Sorting labor, training, career guidance, those are Cobler's specialties," Caron said. "With him, the freed demons can be reassigned swiftly."
Leo noticed something unusual, how Caron spoke of Cobler with genuine praise. Caron wasn't the type to speak kindly of others.
...The Demon King of Liberation, Leo thought. It was the new title people had begun to whisper about Caron.
And it fit him well—both the Liberation and Demon King parts . Thinking of the path Caron had walked so far, Leo couldn't deny the truth of either term.
"So, where are we headed now?" Leo asked lightly.
"Shiker says preparations are complete," Caron said, whistling.
"The underground facility?" Leo asked.
"Hmm... We'll see if it helps us, or if we have to destroy it," Caron replied.
"They said it was a place that could control demonic monsters, didn't they?" Leo asked.
"I'm a little excited to find out," Caron said.
The two of them chatted as they entered the courtyard of the lord's castle. Expedition members scurried about, busy with investigations. They saluted Caron and Leo as they passed, and Caron waved them off casually in reply.
After some walking, they reached the passage leading underground.
"You're here," a voice called out.
Waiting for them was Shiker, along with others: Cor, the Imperial Magic Tower Master; Libre, the Dark Magic Tower Master; and even Gratia, the Blue Dragon. All of them, famed for their mastery of magic, stood gazing with tense anticipation at a massive metallic door.
"Is the investigation done?" Caron asked.
Shiker nodded and answered, "Yes. I never expected this facility to remain intact here. I'll explain more once we're inside."
He raised the pendant in his hand—the one once carried by Dennis—and pressed it to the strange markings on the door.
Screeeeech!
The colossal door split into thousands of fragments before rearranging itself, opening just a narrow gap.
Caron asked dryly, "Wouldn't it be enough for it to just creak open? Did it really need all that flair?"
Cor rolled his eyes and replied, "Only you, Caron, would describe a marvelous display of form-memory magic in such a way."
"Magicians always overdo it with their fancy tricks," Caron muttered. "Right, Leo?"
"...It is impressive, though," Leo admitted.
They continued down the newly revealed passage, and Shiker's explanation began, "You heard this place could grant the power to control demonic monsters? That was wrong. What sleeps here isn't some mere power of control."
In the dim light, Shiker's eyes gleamed fiercely as he continued, "...To think we would secure this facility the moment we landed in the Demon Realm. Perhaps my kin, slain before their time, truly yearned for vengeance."
"What exactly is this place?" Caron asked.
They soon entered a vast chamber. Transparent glass cylinders stood in rows, and at the center loomed a massive device glowing faintly violet.
Shiker added with a bitter voice, "The Hatchery. That is its name. An achievement of ours—an affront to creation itself. Both triumph and calamity."
"What does it do?" Caron asked.
"Just what the name says," Shiker replied.
He paused, then said in a low voice, "It produces servants. The creatures you call demonic monsters."
The reward before them was far greater than they had expected.