Chapter 101: Oops; Zorathys May Have Just Landed Himself In Trouble
Chapter 101: Oops; Zorathys May Have Just Landed Himself In Trouble
The moment Elyn and her entourage disappeared down the corridor, the office fell into a strange, suffocating silence.
It lasted exactly three seconds.
Ignivar collapsed forward.
Not gracefully. Not with dignity. He practically crawled. Anyone else seeing him now would ask themselves why the Duke of the Hellfire territory, who was known to be one of the scariest demons across the realm, was on his knees.
His knees hit the stone floor first, then his hands, then the rest of him followed as though gravity had personally decided he’d had enough. He dragged himself across the floor with weak arms until he reached the hem of Zorathys’s attire.
"Zora... Your Majesty..." Ignivar rasped.
Zorathys didn’t let him finish.
He stepped out of reach without even looking down.
Ignoring the kneeling demon entirely, Zorathys crossed the room at an unhurried pace. He stopped at one of the desks—the only one that was somewhat visible beneath the chaos of parchment—and pulled the chair back.
Then he sat gracefully on the chair like the king he was.
The chair creaked under his weight as he leaned back slightly, resting an elbow against the desk.
Ignivar and Naviel swallowed as they watched him, and after what felt like hours—although it was only a few seconds—Zorathys leveled his gaze at them. Those ruby eyes stared at them like he was looking straight into their souls.
Ignivar was still on the floor. Naviel stood frozen beside him, spine rigid, hands clenched at his sides like he was bracing for impact.
Zorathys studied the two of them with faint curiosity, ruby eyes half-lidded.
"...Why," he asked calmly, "are you behaving like I’m about to kill you or suck your soul out?"
Because it feels like you are, Ignivar and Naviel thought to themselves, but they didn’t dare utter the words out loud for fear of what Zorathys would do to them.
Ignivar swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. Naviel did the same, exchanging a quick, panicked glance with Ignivar before looking back at their king.
"N–Nothing like that, Your Majesty," Naviel said quickly, lying through his teeth.
Zorathys knew he was lying, but he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded.
"Get up."
Both of them moved instantly.
Ignivar scrambled to his feet so fast he nearly tripped over his own legs. Naviel straightened as if pulled by invisible strings, standing at full attention.
Zorathys reached for the nearest stack of papers.
The moment his fingers brushed the parchment, both demons lunged.
"No—!"
"Your Majesty, wait—!"
They grabbed his hands.
The air froze.
Zorathys looked down slowly.
Very slowly.
Ignivar and Naviel realized what they’d done at the exact same time.
They recoiled as if burned.
"I–I apologize!" Ignivar blurted, dropping into a bow so deep his head nearly hit the desk.
"My deepest apologies, Your Majesty," Naviel echoed, stepping back rapidly. "We meant no disrespect!"
Zorathys stared at them for a long moment.
Then he sighed.
"Relax," he said flatly. "You’re acting like I just sharpened my claws."
Ignivar laughed weakly. Naviel nodded too fast.
Zorathys picked up a pen. He didn’t even plan to use it or do anything; he just picked it up—and Ignivar flinched while Naviel watched with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe what was happening.
Zorathys paused when he noticed, the pen hovering above the paper, then tilted his head slightly.
"...You know," he said, "this is getting strange."
Ignivar opened his mouth, closed it, then cleared his throat before opening it again.
"Your Majesty," he said carefully, "you don’t need to work."
Naviel nodded immediately. "Yes. We’re already doing it."
Zorathys glanced between them. "You were."
"We still are," Naviel said quickly. "We can continue. There’s no need for you to trouble yourself. No need at all."
Zorathys leaned back in his chair, pen still in hand.
"Trouble myself," he repeated.
"Yes," Ignivar said earnestly. "The work is nearly finished. We can finish it by ourselves without your help."
Zorathys studied their faces. Then he tilted his head again.
"...Weren’t you two the ones who called the queen because apparently you needed me?"
Both demons stiffened.
Ignivar turned slowly to look at Naviel.
Naviel turned slowly to look at Ignivar.
They stared at each other for a beat too long.
Then they looked back at Zorathys.
They shook their heads.
Zorathys raised a brow, his eyes half-closed. How he was able to pull it off, they didn’t know—but he did.
They immediately nodded.
Naviel cleared his throat. "I only went to get Her Majesty because Ignivar was collapsing."
Ignivar snapped his head toward him. "You were the one on the verge of death!"
Naviel gaped. "You couldn’t even stand!"
"You were barely breathing!"
"I was exhausted!"
"You were gray!"
"You were translucent!"
Zorathys watched the exchange with mild interest.
"So," he said lazily, "you both used each other’s near-death experiences as justification to summon my wife."
They froze.
Zorathys shrugged. "Honestly, I don’t care who was dying."
They winced at his words.
"But," he continued, tapping the pen lightly against the desk, "you succeeded."
He leaned forward.
"You used the queen to get me. And now here I am, so I’m going to do the work."
Zorathys had no plans of working, and Ignivar and Naviel knew that if they let Zorathys do the work, they were going to have more work to do themselves—because Zorathys would do anything to get away from the office... fast.
And if he actually did the work well, then that just meant Ignivar and Naviel were going to die mercilessly—and it would be from overwork.
That couldn’t happen. They couldn’t let it happen at all.
Ignivar bowed deeply. "It was never our intention—"
"I don’t care," Zorathys repeated. "Since she told me to do the work, I’ll do the work."
Naviel’s eyes widened. "Your Majesty, truly, there’s no need—"
"I respect the queen," Zorathys said simply. "And besides," he added, "what kind of king would I be if I didn’t help my friends?"
Ignivar stared.
You only consider us friends when it’s convenient for you, Naviel and Ignivar thought—but once more, they didn’t dare voice it.
"What, we are friends, aren’t we?" Zorathys asked them.
Naviel swallowed, choosing not to reply to Zorathys since that was the safer choice.
Then, as if struck by lightning, Naviel immediately moved to one of the desks covered with papers.
If anyone had blinked, they would have missed it.
He darted across the room with near-invisible speed, gathering scattered parchments, sorting them into neat stacks, organizing by seal, date, and region with terrifying efficiency.
Ignivar followed, moving just as fast, clearing desks, restoring order, snapping instructions to the shadow demons who immediately obeyed.
The room transformed.
Chaos folded into structure.
Stacks aligned. Reports were categorized. Desks reappeared.
Shadow demons moved like extensions of the two nobles, working in seamless coordination.
Within minutes, the office looked... functional.
Zorathys leaned against a desk, arms crossed, watching.
He yawned.
"...See?" Naviel said breathlessly, not daring to stop moving. "Almost done. We just need to sort everything."
Ignivar nodded. "Perfectly under control."
Zorathys closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t need to do anything after all.
Then the hair on the back of his neck tingled.
His eyes snapped open, and he straightened instantly.
"—Wait."
He reached for a paper in Naviel’s hands—but he was too late, because Elyn was already in the room, and she did not look happy.
Zorathys froze, his half-lidded eyes now fully open.
"Oops?" he said.