Chapter 27: THE DEMON ARMY RETURNS

News of Vael’s return traveled faster than plague.

By the time they reached the old demon capital, thirty thousand former soldiers had assembled.

Calling them an army was generous.

Calling them retired was accurate.

The first person Vael recognized was General Khar.

Khar had once punched a wyvern unconscious.

He now approached using two canes.

"My King!"

"Khar."

The old orc saluted, lost balance, and nearly fell.

Vael caught him.

Khar burst into tears.

"Your reflexes are unchanged!"

"Your knees are not."

"War wound."

"You fell off a tavern roof."

"Classified war wound."

Behind him stood veterans from every old legion.

One wore armor over pajamas.

Another had brought six grandchildren.

A former necromancer sold commemorative pastries from a cart.

A troll quartermaster had set up a registration desk beneath a banner reading RETURN OF THE BLACK SOVEREIGN — PLEASE HAVE PENSION DOCUMENTS READY.

Vael stared at the crowd.

"What happened to my terrifying army?"

Morrigan looked offended.

"They aged."

"I can see that."

An elderly goblin shouted, "SPEECH!"

Thirty thousand voices joined.

"SPEECH! SPEECH! SPEECH!"

Vael climbed onto an overturned wagon.

He looked at the people who had once followed him into hell.

Many had scars.

Many had gray hair.

Some had children holding their hands.

A few were human.

That surprised him until he remembered how many mixed settlements had formed after the war.

Vael had expected nostalgia.

Instead he felt something more complicated.

"I am not starting another war," he announced.

The cheering stopped.

Someone coughed.

A demon in the back shouted, "GOOD! MY BACK HURTS!"

Another yelled, "MY WIFE SAID I CAN ONLY STAY UNTIL SUNDAY!"

A third shouted, "DO WE STILL GET PENSIONS?"

The crowd erupted into arguments.

Vael looked at Morrigan.

"You mobilized them without discussing pensions?"

"I was focused on conquest."

"Amateur."

For the next three hours, the rebirth of the Demon Kingdom became a labor dispute.

Seraphina took notes with almost religious joy.

Lyria bought a pastry.

Vael somehow found himself negotiating healthcare benefits with a retired troll battalion.

"Dental coverage was promised under the old charter," the troll representative said.

"The old charter assumed most of you would die before fifty."

"We exceeded expectations."

"That is not my fault."

"It is our teeth."

Vael rubbed his temples.

The System remained silent.

Eventually Khar pulled Vael aside.

The old general’s humor faded.

"Some came because they miss you," he said.

Vael looked toward the crowd.

"Some came because they miss having purpose."

Vael said nothing.

"And some came because they think your return means they can be young again too."

Vael’s gaze sharpened.

"I can’t do that."

"I know."

"Do they?"

Khar looked tired.

"Not all of them."

Vael watched a group of veterans showing children how to tie old military knots.

The throne had never belonged only to him.

That was another lie kings told themselves.

Power created expectations in every direction.

Morrigan approached more slowly than usual.

"My King."

Vael looked at her.

She hesitated.

"I called them because I thought they wanted the same thing I did."

"To conquer the world?"

"Yes."

"Do you?"

Morrigan opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

The delay answered him.

"What do you want?" Vael asked.

She stared at the fortress in the distance.

"I don’t know."

Vael almost smiled.

"Good."

She looked offended.

"How is ignorance good?"

"Apparently it means you’re developing."

"I hate development."

"So do I."

By sunset, they reached the black fortress.

The gates opened with a groan that rolled through the valley.

Dust covered the old courtyard.

Statues of Vael lined the path.

Every single one had horns.

Vael stopped.

Morrigan looked away.

"Who commissioned these?"

"Cultural committee."

"I am going to—"

He remembered there was no penalty now.

"—have a long conversation with them."

Lyria grinned.

"Character development."

"Do not start."

The throne room waited beyond the inner doors.

Vael stopped before them.

Morrigan stood beside him.

For the first time since she had crashed through his window, she did not look excited.

"You do not have to enter," she said.

He looked at her.

It was the first time she had said that.

Vael nodded.

"I know."

He placed one hand on the door.

Then he opened it.