Feelings are complicated but sometimes, everyone’s brain leads them to a very simple conclusion: that something is cute! This... is one of those moments for Marcel. 

Having returned from picking up the cute and dangerous monster that is Ainsvergia whose current master was as famous as about a dozen people in the witch world, Marcel was excited to bond with the cute white pup that Ains transformed into after their contract. It’s been over a month since they met each other, and Claude is trying to do the unnecessary thing of teaching Marcel how to properly form a bond with Ains. 

I can’t believe this guy! What kind of bond is stronger than one where a pup occasionally sits on top of its master’s without permission? Is that guy blind or something? Heck, those two are doing it as we speak. What nonsense!  

Anyway, Ains and Marcel have already got it covered and getting along fine without his help. Ains has also started growing rapidly like he said he would because a certain someone’s a magic tap and Marcel seems to be ignoring Claude more and more now that he has a beast companion, or at least, that’s how Claude sees it. He’s been speaking less and less, preferring to telepathically communicate with Ains instead and although he’s been wiretapping their conversations and has caught a gist of what they’re talking about, he can’t believe that he’s been standing in front of these two for so long and they’re so self-absorbed that they haven’t even noticed him or his wiretapping. Claude... is a bit sad and wants some attention from the little guy and luckily, he heard something that might give him what he needs to not feel so ignored. 

“Ahem! Marcel! Ains! Would you like to see what the Demon Lord’s up to? You must be bored from doing nothing but playing with Ains for so long.” Ha, if Claude could hear Ains speak, he’d hear the cute beast atop Marcel’s head say, “Excuse you!” and um, he did. The smart wolf had already noticed his wiretapping but was powerless to stop him now, so it ignored him, and Claude did the same, or at least, it looked like he was. 

“Sure, why not?” Marcel answered his earlier question and the wolf atop his head looked eager to know as well. He wanted to know what the master of this castle did on the regular. He’d heard that his master was supposedly engaged to that great man, and he wondered what this man whom his former master admired greatly did on a regular day. 

“Okay, then. Follow me!” Claude led the way as they walked to the throne room. As they walked, the restless white pup got off his head and into his hands to be held. I swear! That guy’s getting comfortable by the second. Oops, unnecessary commentary! Wow, I should stop this! 

As they approached the throne room, they saw a crowd of people gathering in front of the place, some entering and some exiting the throne room. Just what was happening. There were so many people. 

In the crowd were a lot of people from different races, some short folk like the dwarves and goblins, ah, those cute people, and some tusk-fanged bulky-looking four-foot-tall giants with red hue and black hair, carrying weapons and other tools in hand. They looked so intimidating but heh, Marcel’s seen worse. They’re no problem, that fearless guy! Now that he looks around, everyone’s the same. They’re all holding something in hand: an artifact, especially weapons, be it a shield, swords, and even armor. Just what is going on here? 

“Those tall men you see over there are Oni. They’re a race of war-folk and one of the highest-ranked beings in the multiple dimensions together with the dwarves, witches, dragons, and several other races.” Claude explained. 

“I think I’ve read about them somewhere. Something about them being masters of a unique form of magic and being only males who enjoy fighting. Just what are they doing here with all these people?”  

“These people are all craftsmen who’ve come from far and wide to the Demon Lord for an evaluation on the various things they make, mostly adventuring gears they’ve created.”  

“I see!” Marcel was not given any time to think about why the sight in front of him was how he was before he heard someone say ‘Next!’ and someone leave while another entered. The gate was wide open for everyone to see too. 

When he heard ‘Next’ and someone entered the room, he saw them bow when they arrived in front of the Demon Lord, sometimes blushing, and then with a nod from the guy on the throne, they’d get up and hand the armor to the announcer who’d hand it over to the Demon Lord, then look extremely nervous as the Demon Lord examined the armor and graded it. 

“F, E at best! This wasn’t good at all, Herf.” The Demon Lord said nonchalantly without a shred of emotion whatsoever and handed the armor back to the announcer who gave it back to the dwarf in front with a smile. He then left, dejectedly as if his day had been ruined by a few words from the Demon Lord. Just seeing the way that he sat on his throne expressionless as he graded even more artifacts that followed the first ticked him off. It wasn’t all bad though as some got better grading like C, B, A, and A+ and looked excited and happy as if their entire life had been turned around by a single comment from the great Demon Lord while those who got poor evaluations wallowed in sadness. Just what was this scene happening in front of his eyes that filled him with disdain and slight hatred for the Demon Lord as he saw him crush the hopes in those men and women’s eyes. Anger was slowly boiling inside of him, and he could only think of one thing as the scene unfolded in front of him: “How cruel!” 

“Cruel, right?” Claude asked. 

“Yes, very! This is simply unacceptable! Does this guy know how hard it is to make anything, even a simple sword? This heartless bastard! I want to punch him in the face.” He said, looking at the smug face of the person on the throne judging these men’s works like they were meaningless. This was simply unacceptable. 

 Marcel continued to badmouth the Demon Lord for being a heartless bastard and unfair to the people who’d come from who knows how where. He knows how hard it is to be a craftsman because he once had to help the one who made the armor he quickly disposed of when he came to the demon realms. Blacksmithing is a grueling work that requires a lot of time and energy to get right and here the Demon Lord is, trampling on these people’s work. He finally found the one thing that made the Demon Lord evil in his opinion. 

“Okay, enough before you go too far! You’ll hurt yourself later.” Claude stopped him before he said something he wouldn’t be able to take back. After all, this wasn’t over yet. There was a lot more to see. 

As Marcel continued to fume with anger about the scene unfolding in front of him, Claude pat him on the back and said, “I suggest you wait till nightfall to make your final decision. I have a surprise for you!” 

Marcel continued to watch as the Demon Lord belittled the men’s work throughout that afternoon and into the night. The sun had already set when he was done with his last evaluation, and he left the throne room for his study. He still had business to attend to. Being the Supreme Ruler wasn’t a very easy job. He was going to be at this for days without any rest before he finishes the continuously piling amount of work he had to finish. Again, why did he let Nephagar and the others get away with dumping their work on him? He couldn’t help but sigh as he walked to his study. Sure, he didn’t need things like sleep, but he still felt like this was going to be exhausting.  

When nightfall came and he left for his study, the two, sorry, three, began sneaking around in the darkness, literally, to find out what he was up to. Claude had completed erased their presence and they could watch without worry. They saw him enter his study and shut the door with magic, leaving them in the dark about what he was doing inside there. Why did he need to be so secretive anyway? 

Hehe, he didn’t stay unwatched for long though as Claude cast a spell called ‘Dimensional Eye’. This spell could cross beyond dimensions and show its user what he wanted to see if it wasn’t concealed by the Spirit of the World. He could easily bypass the Demon Lord’s locks to see what was happening inside the room albeit its solid privacy-keeping measures. Hey, the guy was a master of the spatial element. He had to occasionally flex his muscles or people will forget who he is. 

Moving on, they watched what was happening inside the room. They watched the Demon Lord and Marcel saw something that left him baffled. 

The Demon Lord was sitting in a chair, looking especially displeased as he looked back to how he treated his visitors today. He began writing something unto a sheet of paper and Claude zoomed him for Marcel to see what it was after he had been at it for a while. It looked like he was writing letters, personal ones. In the letters, he wrote how to make improvements and how to improve the grade of the items he graded earlier that day, looking happy again as he wrote a generous number of them. Each and everything he wrote in the letters differed for every one of them, giving advice for a specific problem regarding every artifact he saw. After a while, he saw the guy conjure up clones, enlarge the space inside the room and leave his doubles to all write more letters to different people. In each letter, he was meticulous, not missing any details and his tone in every one of them sounded different as if he knew every one of the letter’s recipients personally. Just what was this strange sight he was seeing? And why is the Demon Lord smiling as he writes the letters as if he were writing to his closest of friends? 

Marcel asked, “What is this?” Claude looked at him and chuckled.  

“You are witnessing a secret that very few people know about the Demon Lord. It is just like it looks like. He’s writing letters to all the many people who came to his evaluation today. You’re watching the friend of all the top merchants in the multiverse.” He answered. 

“What? Really?!” Marcel couldn’t believe it. Was this really what was happening? He was a bit doubtful of Claude’s words. After all, for almost the entire day, he’d watched the guy belittle these so call friends without a shred of emotion, and now he was looking at the same guy writing to them with a brilliant smile that would soften the heart of everyone who saw it. What kind of two-faced beast was the Demon Lord? 

“Haha, I didn’t believe at first either. I thought the same thing you did. I discovered his little secret after I started working for him. He’d have these days when many craftsmen would come to visit him and he’d look like a total monster as he belittled them and then after nightfall came, he’d turn into a smiling writing monster. If you doubt my words, I can show you pictures of it.” He said, not even waiting for Marcel’s answer before he used another spell, ‘Memory Mirror’ to show Marcel times in the past when it happened. He looked the same as he did today, then later, looked pained as he thought about how cruel he’d been and then he’d turn into a smiling monster after he started writing. Marcel couldn’t help but be speechless at the sight. 

“You asked if he knew anything about being a craftsman and the answer is, yes, he does! He’s so good that he can identify all the artifact’s core components, how it was made, and even how to improve it. Those short seconds in which he held the artifacts was all the time he needed to recreate it from scratch. He knows so much about craftsmanship that he’s written several books on it and anyone who has a problem before coming to see him will go back with a grand epiphany capable of turning them into a remarkable craftsman.” 

“Huh? Then why doesn’t he just do that instead of being cruel and regretting it later? Why can’t he just be nice to them all?” Marcel couldn’t fathom why the Demon Lord had to sit on his throne and look down at these men and women who’d done their best to make various artifacts. 

Claude laughed, stopping the ‘Dimensional Eye’ spell, then his expression turned serious again. 

“Why did you stop the spell? I want to see more!” He complained. 

“Because this isn’t something you’re supposed to see. A king is never to be seen bending to someone else’s whims or be moved by the words and actions of others. He’s supposed to be impartial and look at everything from an analytic standpoint, showing only little of what he really feels in front of others. This is how a proper ruler should act and all the craftsmen know this too. Did you see what everyone did after he graded their item? They smiled at him before leaving.” 

What? Marcel only saw them smiling towards the announcer and not the Demon Lord. How did he miss that? Was he just so blinded by anger that he saw none of that? 

Claude continued, “The Demon Lord is their God of Craftsmen. Ever since the day he first touched crafting materials, he’s never led them astray. He’s the man who can turn absolutely worthless materials into fine treasures that anyone will drool over after he gets his hands on them. This isn’t an exaggeration, by the way. These craftsmen admire and praise him so much by calling him their god that the world had no choice but to add them to his titles. You can’t believe how many times the things he’s made have caused discord all around various worlds. This one time, it even turned into war.” 

Marcel agreed with him, the guy was indeed capable enough to be called the God of Craftsmen. He was able to make a high-grade sword like Sigurd, an SS-grade sword without any problems, though he still can’t fully use its powers yet. Again, how embarrassing! But still, he didn’t think the Demon Lord needed to be so harsh. Can’t he be just a bit nicer? 

Claude, having already noticed the little guy’s worries, had a bit more to say. 

“Do you know that the works you saw the Demon Lord grade are all artifacts intended to be sold off to adventurers to be used in life and death battles in dungeons? This is one of the reasons why he’s so firm about his grading. He does it not because he’s the Supreme Ruler who can do almost anything he wants but for the sake of the thousands of lives his decisions can decide over. What do you think would happen if a craftsman sold off an S-grade set of armor that’s supposed to protect against highly fatal attacks to an adventurer but then later, found out that their creation could only be considered an A or worse, an even lower grade like a B or a C? Sure, races like the Dwarves and Oni don’t make mistakes too often when crafting because they’re masters of craft with the witches, but they all still come to their god to make sure that the grade they gave their artifacts is accurate. As you saw, they’re elated when it turns out to be so and sad when it doesn’t.” 

Marcel continued to remain unsure about whether the Demon Lord was evil again or not. Was this really all there was to what he saw? 

Once again, Claude noticed this thought going through his head, so he asked him, “Did you hear any of them even murmur about the Demon Lord being wrong with his evaluation?”  

Marcel thought about it and his answer was no. Even after secretly watching for five whole hours, he didn’t hear one of them try to say he was wrong or anything. They all just took their disappointments with them as they bowed and left.  

“You’ll see more evaluation days like this very frequently and you can make your own observations regarding what I told you today. What you saw today was a bit on the milder side. There are days when even more people come from multiple dimensions just to have their works graded by the Demon Lord as if it was a competition. Before that day, every artisan tries to craft their best masterpiece and present it to the Demon Lord who then grades it. The one with the highest grade of armor gets to have exclusive rights to the Demon Lord’s evaluations whenever they please. Craftsmen fight among themselves over this honor and sometimes become rivals over these exclusive rights, like the top dwarven and Oni craftsmen respectively.  

Marcel listened to Claude talk about it for so long that he reformed his entire image of the Demon Lord again. He couldn’t help but think, “The Demon Lord... is cute! What an angel! Cute!” 

He thought that the Demon Lord wasn’t bad at all, far from it in fact, and began brooding over the fact that he just cursed that angel in the room not so far from him. He even thought for a second there that he wouldn’t mind belonging to such a person, but then he remembered a past event that made him stay true to his convictions. No, he wasn’t going to be swayed so easily. Only when the end came will the victor be decided. 

At the end of this day, the Demon Lord earned a few pluses in Marcel’s book and Claude felt like the mission he set out to do had been accomplished. His mission, if you don’t know yet, was to sway Marcel’s heart for a bit, tilting it into the favor of the Demon Lord, even if it was just for a bit. Marcel looked a bit more swayed after seeing the Demon Lord’s overly soft and somewhat cute side, so he patted himself on the back, feeling proud of himself and that everything was good. He’d opened a hole for the Demon Lord now, meaning that if the Demon Lord managed to plow that little hole, he left open inside Marcel’s heart, then he’ll easily claim the naïve and stubborn Marcel as his in no time. Now the Demon Lord owed him one, meaning he wasn’t going to refuse his pleas for him to get back to his job when he asked him to, though he does admit that the guy deserves some break sometimes.  

Quick fact, he intentionally brought Marcel to the front of the study because he knew that the Demon Lord could hear anything so long as he focused hard enough with them in the vicinity, so listening to the two of them who were hiding in front of the gate was nothing at all. Heck, the guy could hear a fly flutter its wings from miles away if he wanted. What was a little darkness cloaking spell going to do again him? 

Claude sent the guy a telepathic message saying, “You can thank me later,” that plotting guy! Looks like Marcel's heart isn’t going to be having an easy time at all in the future thanks to plotting Claude.