The walk back from the castle gate plaza felt heavier than the journey there. With each step on the stone pavement, the scene from moments ago flickered through his mind. Naia holding out the cream puff. Three pastry bags lined up on the stone steps. The hero's back as he sheathed his sword, barely suppressing a laugh. (That man—what was he even doing here, really) Radius opened the door to the throne room and sat before his desk. He pulled out the Conquest Postponement Decree No. 13 form from the drawer and spread it open. There were already filled sections—the continuation he'd started writing last time and then abandoned. "Postponement Reason: Loss of interception opportunity. Reason—unforeseen circumstances" He picked up his pen and added to a new line. "Unforeseen circumstances (pastry-related)" He stopped after writing it. He crossed out the line and rewrote it. "Unforeseen circumstances (other)" Tel would read this later. That was fine. Tel never nitpicked. Purple light from the underworld lamps filtered through the window, thinly staining the white parchment of the form. It was quiet. The bustle of Obsidian, the city below the castle, reached him only faintly and distantly. The castle interior had returned to its usual silence. This was fine. This was normal. Radius ran his pen across the paper while counting the remaining lines in the postponement reason section. Six lines. Still more. —That instant. BOOOOOOOM!!!! The window glass shot upward. The small bottle of stomach medicine sitting on the edge of the desk tipped over, rolling across the carpet and falling to the floor. The stone beneath trembled with a low sound, and dust drifted down from the ceiling in a fine shower. Radius didn't move. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. He looked at the fallen medicine bottle. It lay on the floor. He picked it up. Footsteps ran down the corridor. That was Tel. The door opened. "—The west wall, third section. A flying object has made direct impact, sir." Tel's breathing was slightly elevated. Still holding the miasma-sealed thin paper—the communication method used throughout the castle to transmit messages through sealed tubes—Tel continued. "Wall collapse confirmed. One adult male demon confirmed at the scene. Conscious, no injuries. According to him—" Tel paused for a beat. "…He says he simply failed the landing, sir." Radius's hand stopped. The pen froze on the form. "How many months since the last west wall collapse," Radius said. "Four months and twelve days, sir," Tel answered immediately. As the records keeper, he'd already confirmed it. Radius placed the fallen medicine bottle back on the desk, left the Conquest Postponement Decree form where it lay, and stood up without a word. "…I have a feeling we'll be redistributing postponement decrees to all departments, sir," Tel said quietly, almost to himself. Radius didn't respond. ———— The west wall collapse site was exactly as bad as expected. The dark crystal stone—the miasma-absorbing ore unique to the demon realm that hardens when exposed to miasma—was shattered, with debris of various sizes scattered across the plaza. The third section of the wall was completely gone, and beyond it, the dark slope of the Black Fang Mountains was visible. And the east wing castle wall was still under repairs. Three soldiers stood around the perimeter of the site. All of them were looking in the same direction. On top of the largest chunk of dark crystal stone in the pile of rubble. A person was sitting. Short hair with white streaks. Slightly disheveled bangs. Silver drooping eyes that held a leisurely light. On the back of his left hand, a bluish miasma nodule—a mark where concentrated magical power had surfaced on his skin—glowed dully. There were fine scratches all over his body, but his expression was calm. His clothes were torn in places, but he didn't seem to care, brushing away dust with one hand in a casual pat-pat motion. When Radius approached, the man looked up. He raised his right hand. "I'm back, Demon Lord," Azur said, his voice soft and murmuring. "Nice weather, isn't it," Azur added. Radius looked at the collapsed wall. Then at Azur. Then back at the wall. Tel spread out parchment and began writing with meticulous precision. "Should I record today's return as being caused by direct impact with the castle wall, sir," Tel asked. "I misjudged the landing point a bit," Azur said with a smile. Not a trace of malice. No sign of remorse. Just stating facts. Radius pulled out the medicine bottle. He took one tablet with his fingertip. Put it in his mouth. "Get down," Radius said. "Yes, sir," Azur replied. Azur hopped lightly down from the rubble pile. This time, the landing was—fine. "By the way, where did you depart from," Radius asked. "I was returning from the direction of the Frozen Miasma Plains," Azur said. "The Frozen Miasma Plains," Radius repeated. "There was something I wanted to check on. Ah, it's nothing major," Azur said. Radius thought that whether it was major or not was for him to decide, but that wasn't the issue right now. "The east wing still isn't fixed," Radius said. "Oh, is that so," Azur said. "You broke it," Radius said. "Ah. That was an accident," Azur said, his face sincere. He was distinguishing between this incident and that one—saying that one was an accident. Radius's mind formed the question: wasn't this one an accident too? But he was afraid of the answer, so he dropped it. ———— Tel began flipping through the record book. His finger confirming numbers moved through the pages with a flutter. Records of the previous repair costs. Estimates of this collapse's scale. His face showed he was adding them up in his head. Radius waited. Tel looked up. "The east wing castle wall and west wall third section—combined repair costs for both walls come to thirty percent of the current demon realm's annual budget," Tel said in a quiet voice, without inflection. Just reading numbers. Radius said nothing for several seconds. Thirty percent. A third of the year's tax revenue collected from across the demon realm. For castle walls. "…That's expensive," Azur said. "You broke it," Radius said. "The second time was completely an accident," Azur said. "The first time," Radius said. "…Well, that one too," Azur said, his eyes shifting slightly away. Radius pulled the Conquest Postponement Decree form from his pocket. Tel moved close beside him, looking over his shoulder. "Should I record it as conquest being temporarily postponed due to repair cost allocation, sir," Tel asked. "What else would I write," Radius said. "…We could also write 'other,' sir," Tel suggested. "Same thing," Radius said. As Radius was about to add a new line to the postponement reason section, Azur leaned in from beside him to peek at the form. "You're still issuing Conquest Postponement Decrees," Azur asked, his face showing interest. Radius blocked the form with his body. Azur stretched his neck to look. Radius took a step back. Azur stretched his neck again. Radius folded the parchment and tucked it into his pocket. Silence. "…How many decrees have you issued so far," Azur asked. "Thirteen," Radius said. "Huh," Azur said, sounding impressed. Radius tried to take his third tablet and realized he'd only taken two. He started over. "Get the cleanup started," Radius said. He gave a short order to the soldiers standing nearby. All three immediately moved, beginning to carry away the collapsed dark crystal stone debris. Walking back down the corridor to the throne room, Radius spoke. "I'll report on the hero situation," Radius said. "The hero," Azur said. The hand that had been brushing dust stopped. His voice tone was different from before. "Self-proclaimed hero. Approached from the direction of the Green Gate—one of the four gates of the Ash Veil—and reached the castle gate plaza yesterday. Currently withdrawn to the city below, staying at an inn. Possibility of renewed contact in the coming days," Radius said, walking down the corridor. He opened the report he'd received from Tel and read aloud. Approach route. Estimated travel time required. Equipment type. The state of the map that was spotted—with notably poor scale. Azur's eyes narrowed. "…The equipment isn't excessive," Azur said. "Sword and shield. Leather armor for protection," Radius said. "One person from the Green Gate direction. Practical equipment but minimal," Azur said. His footsteps stopped. Azur had halted at the corridor wall. His eyes were open, but he was looking at something far away. His silver drooping eyes took on the shape of someone thinking. Radius stopped too. Tel held her parchment and pen at the ready. "If they came from the Green Gate—the human realm's city-state alliance has either official approval or at least tacit consent. If the goal was intimidation, they'd come with a much larger force. If the equipment is practical but minimal, the goal isn't combat," Azur said, his voice quiet. A tone that seemed impossible from the man who'd been sitting on the rubble pile moments ago. "…The goal is likely direct contact. Specifically—it's highly probable they came to confirm your current status, Radius," Azur said. Radius stood still and said nothing. Twelve years. For twelve years, he'd tried to construct this analysis himself—this hypothesis about the hero's purpose—and failed. Why had they come. What was their goal. What did that man seeking in the city below, eating pastries and staying at an inn, want. And now it came from the mouth of the commander-in-chief who'd returned just months ago—who'd destroyed the castle wall in a head-on collision. Tel's pen began to move, writing. "…Give me the memo," Radius said. "Right here," Azur said. On the corridor wall shelf, there was a stack of parchment and charcoal pencils. Azur took them, held the paper against the wall, and began to write. A rough diagram of the approach route. Estimated number of accompanying forces. The ratio of military forces needed for response. His hand didn't stop. He drew the diagram while writing in numbers. When Radius looked from the side, the direction was entirely sharp. That reading was certainly possible. There were several angles Radius hadn't thought of. "Based on the above calculations, the optimal interception timing is three days from now in the morning, and the required force is one hundred twenty soldiers," Azur said, finishing. Tel took the memo. She began to check it. Five seconds later, Tel's face stopped. "…Azur," Tel said. "It's correct," Azur said with confidence. "In the first line of this force calculation—" Tel began. "Forty-five times sixteen is seven hundred twenty, right," Azur said. "Forty-five times sixteen is not seven hundred twenty, but rather…" Tel said. Tel closed her mouth. She began counting on her fingers. "…Seven hundred…" Tel said. She started counting again. "Seven hundred twenty… no," Tel said. Radius took the memo from Tel. His eyes scanned it. The first line of the equation. The second line. The third. He saw them all. He confirmed them all. "The conclusion is correct," Radius said. He paused. "But every number in between is wrong," Radius said. "Is that so," Azur said without particular disturbance. Radius took a fresh piece of parchment. He copied only Azur's conclusion—just the answer of three days from now in the morning, one hundred twenty soldiers. Then he went back to the first equation and began calculating himself. Standing in the corridor. "…Shall we return to the office," Tel asked. "No, I'll do it here," Radius said. He held the paper against the wall and ran the charcoal pencil across it. Azur stood nearby, his face suggesting he wanted to say something, but when Radius looked at him, he fell silent. The calculation progressed. Numbers filled in. Azur's conclusion proved to be actually correct—