Book 4: Chapter 62 (1/2)
Tafel leaned back in the plush chair, one leg crossed over the other. Her elbow dug into the armrest with her arm upright, her palm holding her cheek. Prim would’ve called it bad posture, but at the moment, Tafel was an adventurer, not a demon lord, so she didn’t care. “When are they coming?”
“The closest members should be arriving by today,” Frederick III said, dabbing at his forehead with his handkerchief. “Unlike Your Excellency, none of us are able to traverse great distances in an instant. The fastest mode of transportation is via horses, but none of the leaders would desperately ride horses to exhaustion. No doubt, they’ve traveled in posh carriages, caring more about their comfort than pleasing Your Excellency.”
Tafel’s skin crawled at the obvious bootlicking. However, no matter what she did or how she behaved, the Elector of Saxony’s behavior didn’t change. The shock he received when Tafel had teleported Martin Luther to the peasants was too strong. It was normal for a demon lord to show overwhelming power—it was a requirement of being a demon lord—but their subjects would worship them, not fear them. A frown appeared on Tafel’s lips, and she sighed through her nose, keeping her mouth shut. At least she would only have to put up with it for a few more days. Once all the top brass of this Holy Roman Empire had gathered, she’d unite them under her banner whether they wanted to join or not.
***
Vur yawned and scratched his chin, his neck arching, his head pointing at the sky. Faint silver streaks decorated his scaled stomach, and if one pressed their ear up against it, they’d hear the murmurs and cries of many different kinds of animals. A deep burp rumbled out of Vur’s mouth, and he exhaled out a silver stream of smoke. He yawned again and curled up at the base of a massive golden statue, resting his head on his front paws, wrapping his tail around to the front of his nose.
“Are you going to sleep, Vur?” Stella asked, climbing out of the scales on his snout. She nudged him with her palm, but his eyes shut and remained shut. “Vur?”
“I’m tired,” Vur said and yawned for a third time. “I flew around for a month, ate all the spirit animals, and built all the statues. Tell Tafel to wake me up when she finds me.”
Stella scratched her head. It was true; Vur had flown around for a month, but he slept during the flights! He shouldn’t have been tired. And he did eat all the spirit animals, including the bear that had led him around everywhere. It wouldn’t have felt right to leave it behind when all its companions were in Vur’s soul, so Stella silently fed it to Vur as he slept with the help of the four elementals. “But don’t you want to see more of the world?”
“Nope.”
“Aren’t you an adventurer? How—”
“Nope.”
“You didn’t let me finish! You—”
“Nope.”
Stella puffed her cheeks out. “Vur,” she said in a whining voice, dragging out Vur’s name. However, the only response she received was a snore and a steadily growing snot bubble from the nostril behind her.
***