'...Has it already been three months?'
Three months.
After suddenly becoming a subordinate of the Primordial Demon [Blanc], I had started living in her castle that very day, and before I knew it, three whole months had passed.
For the record, the reason I was living here was because Blanc had declared that she would make even my old home part of her territory, so I should just stay here instead.
'Is expanding your territory really that easy...?'
I mean, that slime in the original made it look easy too...
Maybe this much was only natural for one of the Primordial Demons.
"Hey, Hairo. Why are you pacing around like that?"
While I was lost in thought for a moment, a young boy with ashen gray hair, looking about elementary-school age, called out to me with a sullen expression.
Thanks to his delicate features, he looked like the pampered son of some high-ranking noble house, but this boy was one of Blanc's direct subordinates and, despite appearances, a Duke-class Arch Demon who had survived longer in hell than almost anyone except the Primordial Demons.
At the same time, he was also the demon who would later receive the name Moss from Rimuru and rise to become a [Demon Lord].
'A Duke-class greater demon looking like a little kid... Even seeing it in person, I still can't wrap my head around it.'
And Hairo—that was my nickname, more or less.
The reason it was a nickname and not a real name was simple: after reincarnating, I still didn't have one.
When monsters receive names, they become named monsters and rise into a higher class of existence, but if you give yourself a name, there's a high chance someone else can use it to control you.
And for someone else to name you, they need an enormous amount of magicules, so unless there is a huge gap in rank between the one giving the name and the one receiving it, both parties have to risk annihilation. Naming a monster was an extremely dangerous thing.
That was why four of the Primordial Demons had no names, and why it was also impossible for them to bestow names on demons of their own lineage.
The Primordial Demons were [Devil Lords], far stronger than Arch Demons, but in terms of species evolution there were only two stages between them, so apparently naming wasn't easy.
"Hey, Hairo! Don't ignore me!"
Ah, right. He was still here.
"Sorry, right-hand man. I forgot you were there."
"What?!"
Like a demon—or rather, he actually was a demon. Anyway, the furious right-hand man stomped his foot in irritation.
On the surface, it looked like nothing more than a child throwing a tantrum, but the shockwave it created was anything but childish.
The building was trembling little by little from the impact.
Though his rank was that of a duke, second only to kings, our right-hand man had the mental age of a brat, and apparently my flat reaction wasn't to his liking.
"I said I'm sorry. To make it up to you, I'll bake you a cake later."
At my words, he froze on the spot, then looked back at me with shining eyes.
"R-really? You mean it?!"
"Yeah, yeah. I was going to make some snacks for Lady Blanc anyway, so I'll make yours at the same time."
Just like his appearance suggested, he liked toys and sweet snacks, and my answer seemed to melt his anger instantly. This time, he started bouncing around in delight.
'He really is just a kid.'
Watching him hop around excitedly brought a faint smile to my face.
Other people might find him pretty annoying, but I didn't dislike him.
Maybe it was because he felt like a much younger little brother.
I hadn't had anyone I could really call family in my previous life, after all.
Well, unlike me, who had only lived about a hundred years, that demon had actually lived at least tens of thousands.
"Sir Hairo."
While I was watching the right-hand man's little performance, Blanc's other direct subordinate—and the third most powerful figure here—the Scribe, came to find me.
Dressed in neat, classic gentleman's attire and wearing glasses that suited the title of Scribe, this demon, like the right-hand man, was a Baron-class Arch Demon who would later receive the name Cien from Rimuru.
He looked to be in his twenties or thirties, but he too was a demon who had lived a very long time.
From what I had heard, at least several hundred years.
"What is it, Scribe?"
"Lady Blanc is calling for you. She said, 'Make the snacks I asked for earlier later and come at once.'"
'...What is it this time...?'
[Answer. There is a high probability that this will be troublesome for Master.]
The negative reply of [Answerer] echoed in my head.
'I figured...'
It had only been three months since I became Blanc's subordinate, but every single time she suddenly summoned me, something always happened. Naturally, I'd started to feel anxious.
"...Understood. I'll go right away."
It wasn't as if I could ignore her summons, so all I could do was pray that nothing serious would happen this time.
*
The land ruled by Blanc lay near the center of hell, and like the great nations of the middle world, it was a realm formed by her own followers.
And unlike the outer region where I used to live, this place had fertile land where crops and flowers grew, along with a vast night sky formed from overflowing magicules gathered together.
According to Blanc, she simply liked rich and fertile land, and because her followers kept bringing back things from the middle world—books, seeds, and the like—whenever they returned, it had gradually become like this.
She had also added that the beautiful night sky above was a sea of magicules, created by the power released through battle and the magicules emitted by the Primordial Demons themselves.
But what surprised me most was—
'...No matter how many times I see it, it's gorgeous.'
The magnificent white castle standing before my eyes.
So massive and imposing that it made me wonder just how much labor and material had gone into building it, this castle was a fortress made solely for Blanc.
The inside was every bit as lavish as the exterior, filled endlessly with gold ornamentation straight out of a movie, and through windows far taller than I was, a pure white warm light poured in—something that felt utterly out of place in hell.
Tap, tap...
As I walked while looking around, I found myself before Blanc's chamber—where the queen's throne stood—before I even realized it, as if some kind of magic had guided me there.
'Already here.'
"Whew..."
Letting out a light breath, I gathered my thoughts for a moment, then calmly knocked on the door.
"Lady Blanc. It's Hairo. I was told you called for me."
"Come in."
The moment Blanc gave permission, the door opened on its own.
After the past three months, I'd seen enough strange things like this that I simply walked through the doorway without much surprise.
"You're here?"
The moment I entered, Blanc greeted me, dressed in a gown that was both alluring and pure.
A dress of pure white that matched her hair.
Combined with her exceptional beauty and figure, it gave her a supreme elegance that would draw the eye of any man.
"......"
Caught off guard by the sight, I had no idea where to look, so I pressed my lips shut and immediately dropped to one knee, lowering my head.
Apparently amused by my awkward reaction, Blanc let out a soft laugh.
"Hehe, you don't need to be so formal. I didn't call you here for tea today. I was thinking we might simply go out for a little excursion instead."
"An excursion... you say?"
Surprised that the matter seemed far more ordinary than expected, I asked back, and Blanc answered with a meaningful smile.
"Yes. Just a simple outing."
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