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On a bed covered with clean sheets, Joey was lying there fast asleep, a red-and-white tulip blooming absurdly from his head.

“Mumble mumble… can’t eat it, can’t… kid in Alra, you say? Three heaping bowls as a greeting gift… mumble mumble…”
“…What is this?”

After throwing everyone around him into worry and confusion, here he was, looking so carefree.

Drooling, he muttered in his sleep: “I can’t eat anymore… thirty-six layers of cake is impossible… mumble mumble…”

Seeing that made me feel a flicker of murderous intent. Still, I couldn’t very well kick a man who was completely unconscious and comatose, so I forced myself to swallow the irritation and hold it down—

“To remain in bed even when the Princess herself comes in person—such insolence, brat!”

That was as far as I was willing to let it go, but Tengai—who has absolutely zero tolerance for provocation and who bursts into flames at the slightest spark when it concerns me—didn’t hesitate for a single instant.

With no consideration whatsoever, he kicked Joey’s entire bed.

The bed shattered to pieces in an instant, and Joey, sent flying through the air, spun around like a drill before crashing to the floor.

And yet, he simply mumbled on, completely unhurt: “Is this flowing pasta? Three full spins is a little much, don’t you think—”

(Seriously, how strong is this guy’s dumb luck to walk away without a scratch?)

…Or wait. Could it be that he’s not actually asleep? Is this some kind of act to get laughs?

“It really just looks like some kind of joke to me…”

“We wouldn’t dare risk our lives on something so foolish as calling upon Your Majesty the God-Emperor over a mere prank.”

Mia declared flatly, and Vice Guildmaster Gald nodded vigorously in agreement.

Not that it really matters, but what’s the deal with this nickname they’ve started sticking on me lately—‘God-Emperor’? The round table Demon Generals, starting with Tengai, are perfectly satisfied with it, saying things like: ‘Well, well. If it’s meant to make the Princess’ greatness known, I feel it’s still lacking in honorifics, but one can hardly expect much from the ignorant masses.’ Kagerou seems to just be amused by it. But honestly—who in their right mind would want to go around calling themselves “God”? It sounds like a cheap knockoff of the Azure God, and frankly it feels like bad luck.

That said, in the public eye, there’s still the matter of ‘the Azure God who turned out to be an evil deity’ and the ‘former believers who had been deceived’ in the Sacred Teaching. The Church’s influence—and the remnants of Aeon—are still alive and well, so over time we’re going to have to gradually administer… well, let’s call it thought re-education (definitely not brainwashing, of course). At least, that’s the shared opinion of King Collard, Empress Oliana, and the others.

“I’m quite good at that sort of work, you know.”
“Indeed. Enriching education is a matter of a hundred-year plan for the nation.”

Both of them smiled darkly, with suspiciously happy expressions.

…Somehow it feels like what’s being dressed up in pretty words as ‘education’ is really just mind control. Or am I just overthinking it?

While I was brooding on that, the one to propose a breakthrough was none other than Lubbock—who used to run both the front and the back of the Sacred Teaching in Aeon.

“Well, the quickest countermeasure to religion is religion itself. Why not just establish a new faith with Lady Hiyuki as the founder—or even the divine object of worship? Of course, there will be people who oppose it, so ideally, you’d want two opposing doctrines within the same religion. That way, you can absorb a balanced following.”

He might have said it half-jokingly, but I didn’t like the way his eyes were sizing me up. That was the look of someone scheming something.

“Being the head of some religion sounds like a huge hassle. Pass!!”
“Pass two! No way, me neither. I’ve had more than enough of that incense-stinking business.”

With me and Tamegoro both openly grimacing and rejecting it outright, Lubbock must have judged that persuading us would be too difficult. He just gave a light shrug and dropped the subject.

Or so I thought, until—

“By the way, Milady, if it were up to you, what would you name your religion?”

That was Kagerou, stirring things up with amusement.

“The ‘Fluffy Cat Paw-Pad Church.’”

Its core doctrine: spend at least one day lazing around doting on cats.

“If a religious war broke out, the enemy side would probably be the first to attack with things like ‘Cat Shield’ or ‘Stray Cat Bazooka.’”

Kagerou laughed heartily: “Hah-hah-hah-hah!”

“If it is Her Highness’ will!”

What had started as silly banter somehow turned serious, with the others actually beginning to act on it. I had to scramble to stop them, panicking all the while. Really, the scariest thing about this world is how jokes don’t stay jokes.

And with that, the flashback ends.

Still snoring away without a care in the world, Joey’s carefree sleeping face finally drove Tengai past his limit. With one hand, he grabbed Joey by the collar of his pajamas and shook him violently back and forth.

Fiore—who had only come to visit—looked like she wanted to intervene, but faced with Tengai’s sheer strength and her own low standing, she could do nothing. She had been silently screaming ever since, her face drained of color.

It was a scream pitched at a frequency ordinary humans couldn’t hear, but the beast-type members of the Seven Beasts of Calamity—like Iki the Saber Dog and Mutsu the White Tapir—could hear it just fine, their ears flicking irritably in response.

Even so, Joey went on sleeping soundly, a happy look on his face. The tulip sprouting from his head swayed loosely with each shake. And oddly enough, that blissful, meltingly stupid sleeping face paired disturbingly well with the ridiculous flower. It looked so natural, as if he had been born with it. That thought crossed my mind as I watched the tulip bobbing.

Then—crack! Actual lightning, not metaphorical, began to dance above Tengai’s head, his glare sharpening with dangerous intensity.

“Now, now, calm down, Tengai. He’s a patient, after all. He’s completely out cold—there’s no way he can answer you.”
“Even if he were bedridden, even if he were on his deathbed, it is only natural to respond if Her Highness deigns to address him!”

Yeah, that so-called “natural law” is really just your own personal rule. I don’t think it applies anywhere else. Not to mention, I hadn’t even addressed him yet. So, just to humor Tengai, I tried calling out to Joey.

“Um—hello? Joey? Are you alright? Can you hear my voice?”

When I whispered into Joey’s ear as he lay drooling on the floor, his fingers twitched, and his expression shifted slightly.

“““‘Ohhh…!’”””

Fiore, Vice Guildmaster Gald, and Mia—who had been silently watching—lit up with hopeful eyes.

“…Uheheheheh… gufufufufufu… Come on, Hiyuki, it’s fine, right? It’s night already, after all…”

Joey let out a creepy giggle, his face blissfully dreamy even in his half-sleep. He nuzzled his cheek against Tengai’s arm—only to be immediately hurled to the floor.

A shiver shot down my spine, goosebumps breaking out all over at being directly named. Without a word, Tengai fixed Joey with a dead-eyed glare, raised one foot high, and aimed to stomp his carefree face into the ground.

“Kill.”

“““““W-w-w-wait, wait!!””””

Crap! At this rate he’ll erase Joey without a trace. If that happens, resurrecting him would definitely be impossible.

Panicking, I, the Vice Guildmaster, Mia, and Fiore all rushed in to stop Tengai.

And then, as for the Seven Calamity Beasts, who had just been standing there blank-faced like it didn’t concern them, I shouted,

“Don’t just stand there! Help stop Tengai!”

Only then did they seem to realize, like, “Oh, we’re supposed to stop him?” and moved to hold Tengai back.

♦♢♦♢

“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!”

The tulip on top of Joey’s head let out a death-cry like a strangled toad.

“Heave-ho! Heave-ho! …This is starting to feel like a tug-of-war, huh?”

On one side were those holding down Joey’s body (well, more like everything above his neck), and on the other, those trying with brute force to yank out the tulip that had dug its roots in firmly (with me in the lead, by the way).

We tried a bunch of things, but in the end, no effective treatment could be found.

“So, why not just rip it out by force? It’s fine, even if he dies I’ll just revive him.”

With that half-hearted suggestion of mine—basically tossing the problem aside—we ended up going through with this rather extreme method.

It doesn’t feel all that different from Tengai’s violence, honestly… but in this case, it’s *optimistic* violence for the sake of treatment, so it shouldn’t count.

“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!”

“Hm… this may be bad, Princess.”

Listening to the scream of the mysterious tulip, Soujyu the Green Man—one of the Seven Calamity Beasts—shook his head with a grave expression and muttered a warning.

“It seems this thing is a type of demonic plant that parasitizes the host’s brain. It keeps the host asleep and defenseless while draining nutrients. That in itself is not so rare… but it also appears to interfere with the mind. If we forcefully rip it out, at best the host will be left a husk, and at worst their brain will reset entirely—ending up like a pressed jelly.”

““““‘…Eh!?’””””

At those words, I and a few others instinctively loosened our grip.

In that instant, the rest—who had kept pulling or holding him down regardless—lost their balance, crashing through the infirmary wall and tumbling outside along with Joey.

““““…Ah…””””

We all stared in stunned silence.

And there, atop Joey’s head—untouched and uninjured even now—the tulip cackled triumphantly: “Ke-ke-ke-ke-ke-ke!!”