Chapter 30: THE RETIRED DEMON KING

Three years later, the most suspiciously named inn on the eastern highway was doing excellent business.

THE RETIRED DEMON KING

The sign showed a cartoon demon sleeping in a rocking chair.

Lyria had designed it.

Vael hated it.

Which was why she had ordered two.

"Table four needs soup," she called.

Vael stood behind the counter slicing bread.

"Tell Morrigan."

"Morrigan threatened table four."

"Why?"

"They asked for more salt."

Vael closed his eyes.

From the dining room came Morrigan’s voice.

"MORTAL, YOU QUESTION THE SEASONING OF HIS MAJESTY?"

Vael walked out.

"Morrigan."

She froze.

"Yes, My—manager?"

"Kitchen. Now."

She marched away.

The customers applauded.

This happened often.

Seraphina occupied her usual corner surrounded by manuscripts.

Her new book, THE BLACK CENTURY: ERRORS, PROPAGANDA, AND THE ANNOYINGLY PRECISE TESTIMONY OF VAEL ASTAROTH, had become a bestseller.

Vael disliked the title.

He had purchased twelve copies.

Director Halric visited once a month under the official excuse of "regional security inspection."

He always ordered cinnamon French toast.

Royal Intelligence had quietly declassified the egg-based weapon investigation after Seraphina threatened to publish it.

Khar visited every Tuesday.

He complained about his knees, the weather, modern military uniforms, and young people who thought siegecraft was "just throwing rocks."

Edran had visited once.

He and Vael had spoken for six minutes.

No forgiveness was offered.

Vael considered the visit enough.

Mira had visited twice.

On her first visit she stared at twenty-eight-year-old-looking Vael for a full minute, slapped him across the back of the head, and said, "I knew moisturizer was bullshit."

General the chicken had died peacefully the previous winter at an age everyone agreed was offensively old for a chicken.

Vael had buried him beneath the plum tree beside the unused grave.

The tiny stone read:

GENERAL.

NEVER OBEYED AN ORDER.

EXEMPLARY SERVICE.

Above the fireplace hung a small watercolor Seraphina had commissioned from a traveling artist. It showed Vael and Lyria beneath curtains of green and violet light in the northern sky.

Lyria had finally seen the aurora the previous winter.

Vael had stood beneath it in absolute silence for nearly ten minutes.

He later claimed his eyes had watered because of the cold.

No one believed him.

Near sunset, Lyria leaned across the counter.

"You forgot something."

Vael looked around.

"Inventory is complete."

"Not inventory."

"Tax payment was yesterday."

"Not taxes."

"We reinforced the western roof."

Lyria sighed.

"Our anniversary."

Vael froze.

The former Demon King, destroyer of cities and master strategist of the Black Century, visibly panicked.

"I knew that."

"You did not."

"I strategically delayed acknowledgment."

"You forgot."

"I had a contingency."

"You always have a contingency."

Vael reached beneath the counter and produced a small wrapped box.

Lyria stopped.

He allowed himself a smug smile.

"Obviously."

Inside was a simple silver pendant shaped like a plum blossom.

Lyria’s expression softened.

"From your old village?"

"Yes."

"Mira?"

"Still alive. Still insulting me."

"Good."

Lyria turned the pendant over.

Tiny letters had been engraved on the back.

NO CONTINGENCY REQUIRED.

She looked up.

Vael suddenly became fascinated by the bread knife.

"That is almost romantic," she said.

"Eighty-nine percent at minimum."

She laughed.

Then leaned over the counter and kissed him.

No spear interrupted.

No pink window appeared.

No reward chimed.

Vael smiled into the kiss.

He had gotten used to silence.

It was good silence.

Then something under the counter went:

DING.

Vael froze.

Lyria froze.

Very slowly, Vael looked down.

An old storage crystal he had never seen before was glowing pink.

"No."

Lyria stared.

"What is that?"

"I don’t know."

The crystal projected a tiny window.

[LEGACY POST-GAME MODULE DETECTED]

Vael’s face went blank.

"No."

[Core Regret Correction System remains terminated.]

Vael relaxed by approximately one percent.

[Optional relationship-support module was scheduled for activation upon stable long-term partnership.]

His relaxation disappeared.

Lyria leaned closer.

"You had an optional module?"

"I DID NOT KNOW."

The window expanded.

[POST-GAME EXPANSION AVAILABLE]

[FAMILY ROUTE]

Lyria’s face turned pink.

Vael pointed at the crystal.

"No."

[Recommended first quest: Discuss your future together.]

Vael stopped.

"That is... unexpectedly reasonable."

Lyria folded her arms.

"Yes. Maybe we should."

Vael cautiously nodded.

"Fine."

The window changed.

[Optional Achievement: Produce an Heir]

[Reward: 5,000 EXP]

Silence filled the inn.

Lyria covered her face.

Vael stared at the number.

"WHY DOES THAT GIVE EXPERIENCE POINTS?"

Morrigan ran out of the kitchen.

"What happened?"

Seraphina looked up from across the room.

Halric, unfortunately present for dinner, slowly put down his fork.

The crystal added:

[Bonus Achievement: Twins]

Vael grabbed it.

"TURN OFF."

[Voice authorization rejected.]

"WHY?"

[User is emotionally compromised.]

Morrigan read the floating text.

Her eyes widened.

Then she screamed louder than Vael had ever heard.

"AN HEIR?!"

"No."

"I SHALL PREPARE THE SUCCESSION CHAMBER!"

"WE DO NOT HAVE A SUCCESSION CHAMBER!"

"I WILL BUILD ONE!"

Lyria was now laughing into both hands.

Seraphina had started taking notes.

Halric stood.

"I am leaving before this becomes an intelligence matter."

"Too late," Seraphina said.

Outside, the inn sign swung gently in the evening wind.

THE RETIRED DEMON KING.

Inside, Vael chased Morrigan away from the construction tools while Lyria tried to deactivate a pink crystal that kept suggesting baby names.

Retirement, Vael realized, had never meant nothing would happen again.

It meant he finally got to choose what happened next.

The crystal chimed once more.

[Suggested Baby Name: Arthas.]

Vael stopped dead.

Lyria looked at the window.

Then at him.

"No."

"Agreed."

[Suggested Baby Name: Vael Junior.]

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

Their shouting carried into the road.

Travelers passing the inn heard it, looked at the ridiculous sign, and laughed.

None of them believed the owner was really the Demon King.

Which, Vael thought later, was the funniest thing history had ever gotten right.

END