Fishing and Frankness
1065 Words
“It looks very similar to the fertilizer we bought,” said Vera, standing outside with Ira, Satania, and Helena, watching the goblins apply the homemade fertilizer—diluted with water—onto the soil.
If fertilizer was applied before planting, it could simply be mixed into the soil without much concern. However, mid-growth fertilization, known as topdressing, required dilution to avoid harming the crops.
As for the exact ratio and method, Ira wasn’t entirely sure.
To be honest, he had never personally visited the empire’s farmlands. Other than the battlefield, his energy had always been spent dealing with those useless nobles in court.
However, the monsters—whether it was the fairies or the goblins—had experience using fertilizer before, so they naturally knew how to handle the newly produced supply.
That was their own wisdom.
“Of course it looks similar,” Ira continued. “The empire’s original understanding of fertilizer was just dumping waste onto the fields. A long time ago, I refined the process into what it is today.”
As he spoke, he watched the three standing in the winter sunlight, observing the fairies and goblins at work. “There’s nothing particularly interesting about fertilization. I—”
Before he could finish, a goblin, wobbly and unsteady, suddenly collapsed toward the ground. Ira reacted instantly, dashing forward and catching the goblin before he fell.
Supporting the goblin until he regained his balance, Ira examined his frail features—even among goblins, he looked particularly thin. Analyzing the situation, Ira muttered, “Malnutrition, combined with overwork?”
“Guh… Lord Ira.”
The goblin seemed nervous, stepping back slightly before hesitating. “I know that you are now… no, my apologies, but…”
The goblin stammered, not because of the difference in status—after all, he only showed respect toward Satania and the others.
No, it was because he had seen Ira on the battlefield.
This was a common phenomenon in the Demon King’s territory. Almost all veterans suffered from what could only be called Iraphobia. The mere sight of Ira’s face sent chills down their spines.
“Lord Ira,” the fairies chimed in. “He was one of the ones mixing the fertilizer. We already told him… to rest…”
In other words, this goblin was supposed to be off duty, but he had chosen to work anyway.
No overseers. No threats. No whips.
Yet they worked.
Was it foolishness?
Or did their ruler truly deserve such devotion?
At least… in their eyes, it was the latter.
Ira glanced at Satania and Helena, noting the concern on their faces, before shifting his gaze to Vera—who remained calm and indifferent.
Yes!
That was the proper reaction of an imperial citizen toward commoners!
“…Sigh.” Ira sighed in exasperation.
“Why are you sighing, Ira?” Vera asked.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about something else.”
“Hm? About what?”
Satania’s wings flapped gently as she tilted her head, waiting for his answer. She looked so obedient—there was no sign of a terrifying Demon King in her demeanor.
“Fishing.”
Ira explained, “In my experience, coastal cities rely on seafood as a major food source. But that doesn’t seem to be the case here in the Demon King’s domain.”
Vera, who had grown up by the sea, nodded. Her childhood was filled with memories of eating fish and seaweed, though her privileged background meant she never lacked meat.
“Fishing?” Satania echoed. “Until now, that was handled by the Nagas, merfolk, and gorgons. They used to offer their catch to the Demon King’s domain. But our ports were only used for war and trade, never for fishing.”
She pondered for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Wait! We can fish for meat, right? Trade hasn’t resumed yet, and the war is practically over. Can we do that?”
For some reason, despite being the Demon King, she was asking for permission.
Who was the ruler here, and who was the subject?
Vera shrugged. “Ira is just being considerate. He’s asking you for permission to uphold your authority.”
With a mischievous smirk, she poked Ira’s side.
As he looked at her in confusion, she added, “Besides, to maintain your image as the Demon King, he deliberately avoided bringing this up in the morning and waited to ‘secretly’ suggest it to you now.”
“Secretly”?
That’s called advising, thank you very much.
Ira’s expression turned blank.
Vera sighed dramatically. “Honestly, you and Isabella are both so awkward. You trust each other completely, but you still can’t fully act on that trust.”
Ira remained silent for a moment. He knew he couldn’t explain it fully, so he simply said, “Court politics don’t work purely on trust.”
“I trust Isabella wholeheartedly, and she trusts me as well. But she has to hold back her trust in me, because she is responsible for the empire. Likewise, she knows I am loyal, yet she must still limit my power—because my influence is an extension of her own authority.”
It was a complicated subject.
He never expected Vera to understand.
But to put it simply, as a subject, he had to do what a subject should do.
“What nonsense.” Vera waved dismissively. “If she trusts you and knows you’re loyal, why would she need to suppress you? That logic is nonsense.”
Clearly, she had no interest in whatever “responsibility to the empire” meant. Annoyed, she waved her hand and said, “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about that here in the Demon King’s domain, right?”
She smirked. “The Demon King is silly and easy to manipulate.”
Satania: “Huh?”
Hearing that, Ira turned to look at Satania. Then at Helena, who pretended not to hear anything. Then back at Vera.
“…You know, maybe I should start being more direct,” he mused. “After all, Satania is adorably silly.”
Satania: (Why is no one defending me? Helena, why aren’t you saying anything nice about me? Do I really seem that silly and cute…?)
Screw it. I’ll just say something random to fill the silence.
“…Meow meow meow?!”
- Writer
