The Legendary Rebuilding of a World by a Realist Demon King

After the Battle

Riddled with wounds, we returned to Ashtaroth castle.

My clothes were in tatters. I had been cut and pierced by the enemy during the battle.

Thankfully, they were mostly just scratches. And so I had just put saliva on them. But when I met up with Eve later on, she looked very pale.

“You are the Demon King. What do you mean by not getting treated!”

She said as she brought some bandages. But I thought that her efforts would be better used on the soldiers.

I looked at the line of them behind me.

They were much more wounded than I.

Goblins, orcs, werewolves, kobolds and humans. All different in race, but gravely wounded regardless.

Many of them had to be carried on stretchers.

They needed help.

In fact, Saint Jeanne had cast healing magic on some of them, but as there were nearly two hundred survivors, it was not possible for her to take care of all of them.

The current situation showed just how harsh the battle had been, and just how brave they were.

And so I told Eve to call the doctor and healer from Ashtaroth castle to us, so they could take care of the wounded on our march back.

These were my dear subordinates. Courageous and reliable.

They had survived this long. And so they had a right to live longer than just until tomorrow.

And so our return to Ashtaroth castle was delayed greatly, but we eventually arrived.

When we finally stood in front of the gates again, I sent them words of gratitude for getting through the battle.

“Our victory in this battle, it is all thanks to you. You have my thanks.”

I said with a bow.

It was not a common thing to do in this world. But I had studied a country called Japan in my past life, and had adopted some of the customs.

As I thought this, the man from Japan spoke to me.

“Master Demon King, raise your head. It is not good for the chief to bow so easily.”

“However, in this case… No, in every case… You have always fought with me at a disadvantage. As your king, I am very sorry.”

“Well, even master Sun Tzu said that it was good to defeat many with a few. But then again, I think that was about creating such situations? In any case, you are a novice Demon King. You could not have done much better.”

Indeed!

Other voices rose among the soldiers.

Even kobolds who had once worked for Sabnac.

“Besides, we enjoy seeing what kind of plans you end up devising each time. And you take care of your soldiers. Yes, each battle is brutal, but the death rate is still lower than it was in Sabnac’s army. We have a good chance of coming back alive.”

After all, their old master, Demon King Sabnac was known for his cruelty and tended to fight without much planning. He also didn’t care if his soldiers were treated after battle or not.

He had often said that dogs can just lick their wounds and recover.

So in comparison, I was practically an angel.

No Demon King wanted to be compared to an angel, but I appreciated the general sentiment they tried to convey.

The next person to speak was Saint Jeanne.

She stood close next to me and said… ‘you did well, Demon King.’

She sounded weaker than usual, which was probably a result of having used so much healing magic on the road. 

“You were always in the front and in the midst of the raging battle. There was no such king back in France, where I once lived. Not Charles VII or Gilles de Rais. No, not in all the world would you find a Demon King as kind as you.”

She said as she leaned into me.

The Legendary Rebuilding of a World by a Realist Demon King