Page 11 of The Dark Lord Awakens
“Perhaps some fruit as well?” I suggested hopefully. “If you have any that aren’t, you know, screaming or poisonous or filled with the souls of the damned?”
Azrael’s lips twitched in what might have been amusement. “We have blood apples in the orchard, my lord. They are quite sweet, despite their name.”
“Perfect,” I said, relieved. “Blood apples sound… delicious. Very… bloodlike. Which I, as an evil overlord, obviously enjoy. Blood. Yum.”
I was really nailing this evil thing.
As the last servant disappeared through the door, I gestured to one of the plush chairs by the fireplace. “While we wait, perhaps you could fill me in on the state of our domain? I’d like to know exactly what I’m dealing with.”
Azrael inclined his head and moved to stand beside the chair I’d indicated, hands clasped behind his back. “What specifically would you like to know, my lord?”
I sank into the chair, trying to look regal rather than overwhelmed. I spread my legs a bit wider than necessary and rested my elbows on the armrests, going for “casual dictator” vibes. “Let’s start with population. How many subjects do we currently have?”
“The last census, conducted fifty years ago, counted approximately forty thousand demons within Iferona’s borders,” Azrael replied. “However, I suspect the number has declined since then. Many have fled to neutral territories, seeking better conditions.”
“Forty thousand?” I frowned. “That’s less than half what we had in—” I caught myself before saying ‘in the game.’ “Before my slumber.”
“Indeed, my lord. The population has been in decline for some time. The lack of leadership—other than my humble efforts—has led to instability. Resources have become scarce, and the constant threat from the neighboring kingdoms has made many seek safer havens.”
I nodded, processing this information. In the game, I’d built Iferona up to house over a hundred thousand demons of various types. I’d established specialized districts for different demon castes, created infrastructure to support their needs, and implemented policies to encourage growth. All of that work, apparently undone by three centuries of neglect.
“And our resources?” I asked. “The mines, the farmlands, the marshes?”
“The Obsidian Mines are nearly depleted,” Azrael reported, his tone matter of fact. “The Twilight Farmlands produce enough to prevent starvation, but only just. The Murk Marshes remain largely untapped due to the dangers they present. We lack the manpower to properly harvest their resources.”
This was worse than I’d thought. In the game, those areas had been key to Iferona’s economy. The mines provided building materials and magical crystals, the farms fed the population, and the marshes yielded rare ingredients for potions and spells.
“What about our military strength?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“The Shadow Legion stands at approximately five thousand troops,” Azrael said, a hint of pride entering his voice. “I have maintained strict training regimens despite the declining numbers. They remain formidable, though not nearly as powerful as during your reign.”
Five thousand. We’d had twenty thousand in the game. This was a disaster. A catastrophe. A five-alarm dumpster fire of epic proportions.
“And our enemies?” I asked.
Azrael’s expression darkened slightly at the question, like a thundercloud passing over the sun. His eyes flashed crimson for a split second, and I swear the temperature in the room dropped by several degrees.
“The Groston Empire, led by High Luminary Thaddeus Brightshield and their champion Paladin Commander Valorian Lightheart, has expanded its territory to our eastern border. They preach the eradication of dark magic and all who practice it. The Cizia Republic, where Chancellor Aurelia Goldvein and their battlemage Sylvan Stormcaller hold significant influence, maintains a strict embargo against us from the west. Together with smaller kingdoms, they have formed the Heroes’ Alliance, dedicated to—” He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. “Your permanent defeat.”
Great. So not only was my kingdom falling apart, but I had a bunch of self-righteous heroes gunning for me. The universe wasn’t just laughing at me; it was rolling on the floor, holding its sides, and wheezing with glee.
“When I’m feeling stronger,” I said, “perhaps we should tour the domain. I need to see the conditions for myself.”
Azrael’s eyes lit up with something like approval. “An excellent suggestion, my lord. It would also reassure the populace to see you have returned. Your presence alone would do much to restore morale.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. If I was as terrible an evil overlord as the title suggested, my return might cause more panic than celebration. Like announcing a surprise audit at the office or telling kids the dentist is making a house call.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
“Enter,” I called, remembering to deepen my voice this time. Nailed it.
A small, nervous-looking demon scurried in, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl and a plate of what must be blood apples—ruby red and perfectly round. He couldn’t have been more than three feet tall, with enormous bat-like ears that twitched anxiously and big yellow eyes that darted around the room.
“Your… porridge, my lord,” the demon said, setting the tray on a small table beside my chair before backing away quickly, as if afraid I might bite. Given what they’d tried to serve me earlier, the irony wasn’t lost on me.
I peered into the bowl. It looked like normal porridge, thankfully—creamy and topped with what appeared to be honey and some dark berries. The apples, despite their ominous name, looked delicious.
“Thank you,” I said automatically.
