The Town of Scholarship and Society

Lilium had given it everything.

Day after day, night after night, she'd driven the flame horse without rest — past the first small town, all the way to their second destination: the great city-state of the 〈Duchy of Neuce Gauss〉. She had brought the Demon Lord party to it.

"…First time in my life I've ground myself this thin…"

Real satisfaction in the voice. A small contented smile. At the outskirts of the city, Lilium let herself topple back into the wagon bed.

Relief, probably. The tension finally going slack.

Merea caught her on the way down and gathered her into a princess-carry.

The other Demon Lords were watching her with worried eyes, but Lilium herself, exhausted as she was, kept waving them off with a faint smile and I'm fine, I'm fine.

To her, they all said —

Thank you.

— and left her in Merea's hands.

Held in his arms, Lilium let out a small breath, a small laugh under it.

"Princess-carry. In any other situation I might've enjoyed it more — though, in any other situation, I'd never have got to be carried in the first place."

She laughed once more, eyes closing —

And, finally, slept. Her body at last allowed to rest.

---

Before they reached the 〈Duchy of Neuce Gauss〉, they'd already worked out who would do what once they arrived.

There wasn't time to spare.

They'd been mindful of leaving as little trail as possible, but speed had taken priority over discretion, so it was hard to say how well they'd managed. Travelling behind a flame horse was not exactly inconspicuous either; even with effort, there were limits.

Even so, they had reached Neuce Gauss ahead of Mūzeg and ahead of any of the other states.

"All right. Each of you handle the supplies you've been assigned. I'll see to the transport."

Shaw, to the room.

"Two hours. Reconvene at the east gate of Neuce Gauss in two hours."

The Duchy of Neuce Gauss was a sprawling territory. Its culture leaned heavily on academic excellence and a vibrant social scene; the population was correspondingly large — ideal for twenty-two Demon Lords to vanish into. The flip side: the distances ran long.

"Two hours. That's a tight one, money-grubber."

Salman shrugged, a wry smile under it.

"If you don't make it back in time, we'll bring you home!" "Slip-skid you on ice!"

Perched on his shoulders, playing in his sand-coloured hair, were the twins.

"Stop with that — my arse'll bruise."

The cheerful pair had won the whole party over on the road, but for the city run they were going with Salman, the one they'd attached to first.

Child abduction.

That's not fair.

Got the feel of little bottoms on your shoulders? Enjoying it?

"Oi! Don't phrase it so it sounds dodgy!"

— Salman, fending off the resentful little voices.

"…Ugh. Whatever. Right — I'm off."

He let out one sigh and took off at a brisk pace, both twins still on his shoulders. Even with two girls on his shoulders, he kept a clip that would have shamed a lesser runner — strength fitting of the 〈Fist Emperor〉 title.

---

One after another, the Demon Lords broke off in pairs and disappeared into the noise of Neuce Gauss.

The pairings were generally one combat-capable with one less so.

When the splits were done, six remained: Merea, with Lilium asleep on his back; the 〈Sword Emperor〉 Elma; the 〈Alchemy King〉 Shaw; the 〈Violent Emperor〉 Marisa; and the 〈Heavenly Demon〉 Aiz.

"Right then. Left to right…" Shaw scanned what was left of the group, deploying labels in order. "…the world-naive, the worn-out girl, the muscle-brain who can't read a map—"

He continued.

"…the maid who clings to her master, and the most decent person of the group, who is unfortunately also the helpless girl the aforementioned maid is clinging to. — The first three I'll let pass. The latter pair — the one in the rather out-of-place maid uniform, in particular — there's something off there, isn't there? I'd rather not spell it out because the 〈Violent Emperor〉 title is intimidating, but you know what I mean, don't you—"

"Whatever can the matter be? Whatever could it possibly be? — Ah! It would seem the contents of his skull have at last fully transmuted to gold, and the higher functions are no longer turning—"

Marisa was looking at Shaw the way one looks at something truly pitiable. Then she put a hand to her mouth, and with a tremor of impeccably overdone sincerity added, Oh, the poor dear…

"You really do have those expressions down. — Hh. Whatever. With three combat-capable Demon Lords minding myself and Lady Aiz, this is hardly an unbalanced configuration. Lady Lilium also needs guarding — one or two hands aren't enough."

"I will guard Merea-sama and Aiz-sama. I will not guard you."

"Yes, yes. I'm well aware. Which is why I'm asking Merea-kun."

Shaw looked over at Merea, who had been watching the exchange with a smile of his own.

The honorific made Merea slightly self-conscious. He shook his head a little, a touch flustered.

"It's a bit embarrassing — Merea is fine."

"Then Merea it is. And please, call me Shaw. — Now — I really am counting on you. I may be a Demon Lord, but the power of gold is all I have."

"Right now, that's about the most useful power on offer."

Merea meant it. Without Shaw, none of this would have been moving smoothly. Even the operating funds for the Demon Lords now scattered through the city had come out of Shaw's coat. He'd mentioned, casually, that he kept hidden caches buried near various countries.

"For now, yes. In an age like this one, when it comes down to the wire, what really matters is going to be the simple kind of power you happen to carry. — Ah, but the power of gold is, simply, great in its own right, of course!"

Shaw closed with his usual refrain, and started walking.

Shaw at the head; Merea behind, carrying Lilium; Elma after him; Aiz and Marisa at the rear, side by side.

With that, the small column entered the Duchy of Neuce Gauss.

---

Shaw walked with the certainty of a man who knew exactly where he was going.

It was not a man finding his way. It was a man arriving.

The others followed him in silence.

After a while, Shaw stepped onto the central avenue — a road along which young noblewomen in showy attire were walking in numbers. Stepping in a lively, dance-like cadence, gowns turning elegantly around them, the women walked the avenue cheerfully — and Merea couldn't help staring.

A buoyant air. A bright clamour. Almost like a festival —

The way the colours fluttered in the sun was, somehow, almost dreamlike.

On the kerbs, citizens stood crowded together and cheering.

"Those young women are emblematic of Neuce Gauss's commitment to scholarship. Students of the duchy's academy, who work at their studies day in and day out."

Catching Merea's expression, Shaw offered a brief explanation.

"Huh."

Merea was looking at the procession with frank curiosity.

"And there's more coming, soon."

"Coming? What is?"

"The other emblematic scene of Neuce Gauss culture."

Merea kept watching. After only a few seconds, young men began to slip out of the cheering crowd to join the women's procession. Dressed every bit as well as the women, they fell in alongside them — each picking out a noblewoman who caught his eye, calling over to her, beginning to mingle.

"Scholarship and society. The two pillars of Neuce Gauss culture — the celebration and respect of the young. Once a week, on a rest day, they take to the streets like this for what amounts to a city-wide salon. One of the duchy's signature customs."

Sunlit youth.

The adults on the kerbs had, presumably, walked the same road in their time. They wore a whole spread of expressions watching the young — proud smiles, nostalgic ones, even a few touched with envy. The faces of the older onlookers were a quiet anthology of having been there.

Merea looked at it all and said —

"They look like they're enjoying themselves."

A small smile of his own.

The lively colour of Neuce Gauss made it land all over again — that he had, in fact, descended into the world below.

This was a world he had not known.

"When the trouble's behind us, let's come back to see it again. They're generous to travellers."

Shaw said it warmly, then turned them off the avenue.

A side street. The bright press of the central road thinned, and after two streets it was gone entirely.

There was a small pull at his back — a reluctance to leave — but Merea understood, easily, that he wasn't in a place to join that scene yet. He felt a flicker of envy for the young people, but he wasn't unhappy with where he stood, either.

He looked back once more, between the houses, toward the procession he could no longer see — a quiet, complicated glance — then turned away.

---

They walked on. Maybe ten minutes more.

Shaw came to a stop in front of a building.

Merea followed his gaze upward and found a sign.

Sherwood Firm.

In a neatly practised hand.

Brick construction. The corners a little worn at the edges, but the structure honest. Not new and shining; old enough to be gentle on the eye — the sort of seasoned that reads as taste rather than neglect.

A lantern of glasswork hung from the eaves of the umbrella-shaped roof, catching the sun — a single ornament against the rough brick.

Shaw turned to face them with the building at his back, a slightly proud look on his face.

"My name is 〈Shaw Jules Sherwood〉. As it happens — this is a branch office of my firm."

Then the smile turned mischievous, and he lifted a forefinger to his lips.

"— Of course, the name's an alias. Keep it between us, please. An ancestor of mine, who was once called a 〈Demon Lord〉, made rather a colourful name for himself. Building trust back into a new name from scratch took a great deal of work."

The casualness with which Shaw aired his own family's Demon Lord baggage — and the showy little wink — made Merea laugh in spite of himself.

"Your shrewdness really is something, Shaw."

"Stubborn streak's part of the package. Money-grubbing isn't a profession one survives in without it."

Shaw made an elegant little bow as he said it — and again left Merea with the impression of something unfathomable in the man.