The roaring cheers of the demons echoed across the amphitheater, but Luceris didn't bask for long. Instead, he lifted both hands and gave a little clap, like a kindergarten teacher about to wrangle toddlers.
"Alright, settle down, my bloodthirsty little gremlins. If I'm your king, then we need rules. Structure. Civilization. Maybe even… deodorant."
The crowd quieted. Thousands of demons leaned in, curious. Luceris smiled wickedly.
"From this moment on, these are the **Demon King's Ten Commandments. Break them and—well, you'll wish you hadn't. Ready? Good."
He began ticking them off on his pale fingers:
No fighting inside cities. "Outside the walls? Go wild. Inside? Not even a slap fight. I don't want my urban development budget wasted on fixing broken windows."
Monogamy in marriages. "Yes, I see you, Succubi. No, you cannot marry seven husbands and two wives at once. Pick one. Don't look at me like that, I didn't make biology."
Cleanliness matters. "Take a bath. At least once a week. Soap will soon be a royal decree. No exceptions. Yes, even you, Ogres."
Mandatory education. "All demon children will learn to read, write, and count. Don't ask me why, just trust me—you'll thank me when your taxes aren't forged."
Taxes exist now. "Yes, you heard me. No, you can't pay in bones. Or blood. Or ex-lovers. Gold, silver, gems. Acceptable forms only."
No kidnapping mermaids. "That includes me. I'm your king, not lunch, not bait, and definitely not a body pillow."
Trade over raids. "Want something? Buy it, don't bash someone's skull in and take it. The economy will thank you."
Respect interspecies laws. "If you insult a dwarf's beard, prepare to lose your kneecaps. If you touch an elf's hair without permission, you will be drowned in vinegar. Simple."
No summoning eldritch horrors without a permit. "Yes, this one's specific. Apparently, you people do this often. Not anymore. I'm banning casual apocalypses."
All demons must acknowledge the Demon King is the most beautiful creature in existence. Luceris tossed his hair dramatically. "It's a law. Engrave it in stone tablets if you must."
The crowd fell silent. For a beat, the air was tense. Then, shockingly—demons began to nod.
"Baths sound… good, actually.""Taxes? Eh, I guess if it funds roads.""No more fighting in cities? My hut won't get smashed every week?!"
And then, to Luceris's delight, a chant began:
"All hail the Demon King! Long live our pretty King!"
Luceris preened. "You're welcome. Civilization, courtesy of yours truly."
He turned to the nine captured lords, still sulking in chains.
"You nine. Congratulations, you're now my cabinet. But since I don't like odd numbers, I'm promoting exactly two of you."
He pointed at the Vampire Lord first. "You. Fang-face. Congratulations, you're Grand Duke Number One. Don't pout, you look uglier when you pout."
The Vampire Lord hissed, but when Luceris raised a lazy finger and condensed a ball of water above his head threateningly, he froze and muttered through clenched teeth: "As… you command, Your Majesty."
"Good boy." Luceris turned to the Dark Elf Lord. "And you, Shadow Lashes. You're Grand Duke Number Two. Try not to glare too hard, it might give you wrinkles."
The Dark Elf's jaw clenched. "…Fine."
"Excellent!" Luceris clapped. "As for the rest of you—minor dukes. Be happy you still have jobs. Do them well, and I'll even let you keep your teeth."
The seven lesser lords groaned in humiliation, but not one dared resist.
Luceris unrolled a map—or rather, conjured one with a snap of his fingers, startling everyone. A glowing outline of the Demon Realm shimmered in the air.
"This place is a mess. Constant war, no order, no borders. That changes now. I'm dividing the Demon Realm into twelve territories. Seven go to you idiots." He gestured at the lesser lords. "Don't mess it up or I'll personally redecorate your territory into a swamp."
The lords flinched.
"The other five territories will go to races that weren't even invited to this ridiculous game of 'Who Gets To Rule Today.' Minor races, but not minor in my kingdom."
He jabbed at the map. "Druids—forest sector. Moon Elves—north woods. Ghouls—you can have the western marshes, stop lurking in people's basements. Merfolk—you'll rule the seas properly this time, congratulations, I expect no fish theft. Dwarfs—you get the mountains."
The amphitheater erupted in shock. Minor races who'd been ignored or exploited for centuries blinked, confused, as if wondering whether this merman was insane or their savior.
Luceris smirked. "I rule everyone equally. No exceptions. Congratulations, you're all legitimate powers now. Try not to embarrass me."
The newly minted council gathered in a grand hall conjured by Luceris's hydro-magic—gleaming marble, high ceilings, a long table. Demons gawked at the sudden architecture. Luceris sat at the head, legs crossed.
.
The lords squirmed in their seats, unaccustomed to meetings that weren't bloodbaths.
"First order of business," Luceris announced. "I need a palace. With plumbing. And a throne with extra cushions for dramatic lounging. Write it down."
The Vampire Lord muttered, "This is absurd."
Luceris shot him a glare. A tiny water whip snapped against his cape, soaking it. "Did you say something, Grand Duke Number One?"
"…No, Your Majesty."
"Good. Second order of business—armies. You lot can keep your soldiers, but now they wear uniforms. No more mismatched bones and feathers. I want armor. Matching colors. Fashionable but intimidating."
The Succubus Lord raised a hesitant hand. "What… color?"
"Black with accents," Luceris said. "Red for Vampires, silver for Elves, green for Beasts. I'll design the uniforms myself later. They'll be chic."
The Dark Elf pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Third—food supply. No more raw fish lunches." He pointed at the merfolk delegation. "We're starting agriculture, effective immediately. I'll need dwarves to handle irrigation channels. Yes, dwarves."
At the mention of dwarves, the chamber doors banged open. A stout figure stomped in—a dwarf with a beard that could strangle a yak, armored head to toe, eyes glinting suspiciously. Behind him shuffled several more dwarves, all looking as if someone had just promised them free beer and betrayed them.
The lead dwarf jabbed a finger at Luceris. "What's this about makin' us one of yer twelve territories, eh? Ye think dwarves'll bow tae a fish-man?!"
The room fell silent. The vampire smirked, clearly expecting Luceris to fail.
Luceris rose slowly, leaf robe fluttering. He strode toward the dwarf and crouched, golden eyes gleaming. "Not bowing, no. Collaborating."
The dwarf blinked. "Eh?"
"I need metal. Weapons. Tools. Infrastructure. Beer. You dwarves make the best. In return, I give you mountains officially yours, protection from raids, and exclusive trade rights."
The dwarf scratched his beard suspiciously. "…What's the catch?"
Luceris grinned. "The catch is—bath time. Once a week. And brushing your beards. Hygiene, my friend, hygiene."
The dwarves erupted in offended shouts. "Sacrilege!""Blasphemy!""Ye don't wash a beard, ye season it!"
Luceris sighed dramatically, flicked his fingers, and summoned a swirling orb of fresh mountain spring water. The scent of crisp pine filled the hall. The dwarves froze, eyes widening.
"…That smells… clean," one whispered reverently.
Luceris smirked. "Join me, and I'll give you endless clean water. Your forges will run hotter, your ale purer, your baths…" He paused for dramatic effect. "…luxurious."
The dwarves exchanged glances. Then, with a booming laugh, the leader slammed his fist on the table. "By Moradin's hammer, ye've got yerself a deal! We'll be yer forge, Demon King!"
Luceris leaned back, triumphant. "Excellent. Meeting adjourned. Everyone else—learn from the dwarves. Be useful, or be drowned."