The Demon King's Nap

My team, having recently survived a trans-dimensional teleportation, was now ready for what they assumed would be the second-most harrowing experience of their lives: a desperate battle through the cursed wilderness of the Great Jura Mountain. Justus was already planning a tactical formation. Eliza was analyzing the terrain for ambush points.

“Alright, new plan,” I announced, cutting through their serious, work-like chatter.

They all turned to look at me, their faces a mixture of hope and dread.

“Alistair and his cult are the immediate problem, right?” I said. “They’re attacking the seal. But that’s just the symptom. The real issue is the seal itself. And who knows more about a prison than the prisoner locked inside it?” I pointed towards the shimmering, chaotic pillar of light in the distance. “We’re not going around. We’re going through. Let’s just go talk to the Demon King.”

The silence that followed was so profound I could hear Edgar’s teeth chattering.

“Talk… to the Demon King?” Justus repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. “Okina Sukebe, have you gone completely mad? We are talking about the Maō Rumiri Tempest, a being of unimaginable power who fought the Light Fast Hero Masayuka to a standstill!”

“Yeah, and they’re also the person getting screwed over the most by Alistair’s little light show,” I countered. “Look, your way involves fighting a small army of religious fanatics. My way involves walking up to one person and having a conversation. As a professional slacker, I can tell you that my plan involves significantly less cardio. We’re going with my plan.”

Before they could argue further, I walked towards the shimmering, invisible barrier of the seal. As the one who was magically linked to this whole mess, I could feel it—a weak spot, a seam in the dimensional fabric. I placed my hand on it, pushed a bit of my mana into the gap, and tore open a small, shimmering doorway.

“Well?” I said, looking back at their stunned faces. “Are you coming, or do I have to save the world by myself? Because honestly, I’d rather not. It sounds tiring.”

Reluctantly, they followed me through.

I had expected a hellscape. Lava, screaming souls, a sky the color of dried blood, maybe some ominous background music. The usual Demon King interior decorating.

The reality was… disappointing.

We stepped into a world of profound, breathtaking peace. We were standing on a hill overlooking a beautiful, sprawling city built in harmony with nature. Graceful towers intertwined with massive, ancient trees. Crystal-clear water flowed in canals alongside clean, cobblestone streets. It was quiet. Serene. And completely still.

This is a Demon King's lair? I thought, my mind struggling to process the scene. It looks like a high-end, master-planned retirement community. My apartment in Tokyo had more existential dread than this entire dimension.

The whole city was in a state of suspended animation. We walked down the main boulevard, past goblins tending to perfectly manicured gardens, past orcs reading in quiet libraries, past lizardmen running food stalls filled with delicious-looking, but completely frozen, food. They were all just… paused.

“This is the great demonic army?” Edgar whispered in awe. “They… they look so peaceful.”

“It’s the seal,” Eliza said, her voice filled with wonder. “It didn’t just imprison Rumiri. It froze their entire civilization in time.”

We made our way to the central palace at the heart of the city. There were no guards. No traps. The massive, elegant doors were unlocked. We walked into the throne room, and my jaw almost hit the floor.

It wasn't a throne room. It was a library. A cozy, comfortable, and absurdly large library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, filled with thousands of volumes. Plush sofas and armchairs were arranged around a warm, crackling fireplace. And in the very center of the room, on the biggest, most comfortable-looking sofa I had ever seen in my life, was a large lump under a thick, fluffy blanket.

That was the Demon King.

My team was completely baffled. Justus was scanning the room, as if expecting the real Demon King to leap out from behind a bookshelf, cackling maniacally. Eliza was trying to analyze the magical signature of the room, her brow furrowed in confusion.

I, however, felt a profound sense of kinship. This was a being who understood the true meaning of comfort.

I walked over to the sofa and gently poked the lump. “Uh, excuse me?” I whispered. “Demon King? Maō-sama? Sorry to bother you, but there’s a bit of an impending apocalypse going on outside. It’s very noisy.”

The lump stirred. A muffled, sleepy voice came from under the blanket. “Five more minutes…”

I poked it again. “Yeah, sorry, no can do. The world is kind of ending. The shaking from the seal breaking is making it very hard for everyone to concentrate on important things. Like napping.”

That got a reaction. The blanket was slowly lowered, revealing the face of the legendary Demon King. And it was… not what I expected. The face was that of a beautiful, androgynous teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. Their skin was pale, their hair was a long, messy cascade of silver-blue, and their golden, almond-shaped eyes blinked slowly, filled not with rage, but with pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Yup that's their description, I thought with a profound sense of resignation. Silver-blue hair, golden eyes... Author, you are shameless. By the time this light novel ends, you are going to be utterly broke from the lawsuit. Good luck on being homeless.

“Who are you?” they asked, their voice soft, melodic, and utterly weary. “And why in the name of the abyss are you interrupting my nap?”

Justus stepped forward, his hand on his sword. “Demon King Rumiri Tempest! We are the Special Task Force of Lysvalde, and we are here to—”

“Easy there, Tin Can,” I said, cutting him off. “Can’t you see they’re not in a world-conquering mood? They’re in a ‘I will kill anyone who makes me get out of this blanket’ mood. I can respect that.”

I ignored my team and spoke directly to Rumiri. “Sorry to bother you. My name is Okina Sukebe. Some idiots on the outside, a religious cult, are trying to break your seal in the most obnoxious way possible, and it’s a whole thing. Frankly, it’s ruining my plans for a very quiet, very lazy life.”

Rumiri’s golden eyes focused on me. A flicker of understanding, of shared suffering, passed between us. “Idiots,” they agreed, their voice filled with a familiar weariness as they pulled their blanket tighter. “Always so loud. Always so much… effort.”

And just like that, we were no longer a hero and a Demon King. We were two kindred spirits, two fellow sufferers united in our eternal struggle against the tyranny of doing things.

“Tell me about it,” I said, slumping down into a nearby armchair. “They summoned me to this world against my will. They made me the leader of a task force. There are meetings, Rumiri. Meetings! And paperwork. So much paperwork.”

“I tried to start a country,” Rumiri sighed, their voice muffled by the blanket. “Do you have any idea how much paperwork is involved in starting a country? Trade agreements, infrastructure planning, tax codes… It was a bureaucratic nightmare. Honestly, being sealed away was the most relaxing vacation I’ve had in a century. It was quiet. Until now.”

My team just stood there, watching this bizarre therapy session between a summoned hero and a Demon King, their minds completely failing to process the situation.

“Exactly!” I said. “All I want is a quiet life with a steady paycheck and at least twelve hours of sleep a day. Is that too much to ask?”

“It’s all anyone should ever ask for,” Rumiri agreed, a small, sleepy smile on their face.

I looked at this sleepy, lazy, and utterly reasonable Demon King, and I knew. This was the best Demon King ever. They weren’t a villain. They were my spiritual twin.

I turned to my baffled, speechless team. “Alright,” I announced, a brilliant, lazy idea already forming in my mind. “I think we can work with this.”