Let the Blood Flow Like a River!
1132 Words
Satanya was a first-time ruler, but Ira had long since been accustomed to the role of guiding monarchs.
The teacher of a king is fundamentally different from an ordinary teacher.
For most, this difference lies in the title of "ruler," but for Ira, the difference was in the number of students. After all, he was only responsible for a single student at a time.
It was akin to the difference between a private tutor and a schoolteacher.
Thus, when Ira educated rulers, he adapted his methods to each individual's needs. And that brings us to the key difference between his two students—Satanya and Isabella.
Isabella was a born ruler. She possessed the temperament and aura of a king, her innate nobility overshadowing even the rebelliousness and mischief of childhood. She embodied the cold composure of a monarch, the unwavering disposition of a true sovereign.
Compared to Yuse, who lacked the qualities of a king, Isabella was far more formidable—a ruler destined by fate itself.
Her decision-making style, her governing approach, and the vision of the future shaped by Yuse and Ira meant that she would never waver in state affairs. She was wholly devoted to embodying the might and majesty of a true ruler.
However, due to her limited perspective, Isabella still required Ira’s guidance on national matters. The Empire's political landscape necessitated her learning many things that might have otherwise been unnecessary.
Managing internal factions... Balancing old nobles, new aristocrats, civilian officials, generals, royal relatives, and the many competing political forces…
Maintaining equilibrium between foreign relations and domestic interests…
And so much more.
The Empire was a powerful colossus, yet like any giant, it had become bloated with inefficiencies, weighed down by obsolete institutions.
Still, Ira did not believe his education of Isabella was in any way flawed.
Perhaps… he merely should have shown her more warmth instead of treating everything with pure logic.
And what about Satanya?
What kind of person was she?
Ira wasn’t entirely certain. Compared to Isabella, whom he had raised since childhood, his understanding of Satanya was far less deep.
But in his time here, he had come to grasp the structure of the demon territories.
There was no need to teach imperial cunning, no need to instruct her on balancing internal factions, and not even a need to teach her how to trust or delegate authority—
She was already too good at that.
The lack of historical precedent meant that this world suffered from a universal short-sightedness, but in the Demon King’s domain, this flaw didn’t need correction. Here, Ira could wield his full abilities without restraint, freely reshaping everything as he saw fit.
Because power struggles were simply not a concern for any of the leaders.
So apart from combat abilities, the only thing Satanya truly lacked as a ruler…
Was the mindset of a king.
She needed to learn how to give orders as a true monarch should.
"Then, what are your thoughts on handling the confirmed traitorous territories?"
This time, Satanya asked with confidence. It wasn’t hesitation or uncertainty—it was because Ira had told her that this was what she needed to do.
She was not asking because she didn’t know what to do, but because she knew that this was the right step to take.
For a fleeting moment, the petite figure of Satanya seemed to overlap with the imposing form of a muscular, battle-hardened demon king who proudly bared his chest.
Her father—the previous Demon King.
A strange and warlike man who fell on the battlefield, yet remained worthy of admiration.
And yet, the current state of the demon territories was, in no small part, his fault as well.
"We should issue a final ultimatum first."
Vera spoke with casual ease, crossing her legs lazily.
"Have Senata deliver a final warning to the Gorgons. Of course... it's not like they'll actually submit again, right?"
She spoke with an amused smile, her eyes gleaming—not just with curiosity about the Gorgons but with a certain… academic hunger.
Or perhaps, a desire for their corpses.
"Then, it’s decided!"
Satanya declared, newfound confidence filling her voice.
She looked at everyone present, raising her voice in proclamation:
"When the time comes, our army shall trample the Gorgon lands beneath its feet!"
At that moment, all the generals—whether insectoid, black knight, or headless horseman—rose from their seats in unison.
Even if the Demon King’s domain had been crushed by the Empire—by the Governor’s forces—
That did not mean the Demon King’s forces were weak.
It was a shared failure, a collective downfall of all demonkind.
Yet some territories seemed eager to distance themselves from that loss, trying to break away from the Demon King, pretending they could escape war with the Empire by severing ties.
The generals had tolerated it for long enough.
"However, from a geographical standpoint, the Gorgon lands are separated from us by the Lizardfolk and Centaur territories. A direct invasion would be a mistake."
Ira poured cold water on the moment, his voice steady and firm.
Had they been in the Empire, he wouldn’t have interrupted such a moment of fervor. But here, he was free to express rational objections without restraint.
"There is no way we can maintain control over a rebellious region from such a long distance."
At his words, Satanya’s face fell slightly, though she nodded in understanding.
"Ugh, how boring," Vera sighed in disappointment.
But then—
"Of course..."
Ira’s voice took on a different tone.
"This is merely my suggestion. Whether to kill or not to kill—that decision belongs to Satanya."
His gaze turned toward her, and all others followed.
They were waiting for her answer.
"But... I still want to punish those treacherous lords… Can’t we do something?"
Satanya’s tail curled slightly as she spoke, her voice tinged with uncertainty. She looked dejected.
And that—
That was not the expression a king should wear.
She truly wished to act against the rebels.
And Ira understood that all too well.
Whether in the Empire or the Demon King’s domain, the fate of traitors was always the same—
The iron heel, the whip, and the sword.
"As you wish."
Ira gave a slight nod.
"Huh?"
Satanya blinked in surprise.
"Senata! Warn all treacherous territories! The rest of you—prepare your armies. Let the first day of spring be the day the rebels either recognize Satanya as their ruler—
—or their last day alive!"
Ira’s voice rang out, a call to arms.
"Understood~"
"Acknowledged."
"Yes."
"We—understand."
"Mhm."
One by one, the commanders answered.
"Ehhh?! Wait! Didn’t you say it wouldn’t work?!"
Satanya tilted her head in confusion, her expression utterly dumbfounded.
- Writer
