The Virus King (JP-GL) 1

1. The Virus King

The “Virus King, Lord of Disease” exists.

A supreme commander of the Demon King’s army.

A wicked fiend of unparalleled cruelty.

The sworn enemy of humankind.

“Another village has vanished… No, perhaps it’s more accurate to say it was erased?”

The room was so dark that one could barely make out the face of the person sitting next to them.

Since morning, punctuated only by a light lunch, the discussion had dragged on. The approaching dusk outside contributed to the gloom, yet no one suggested lighting a lamp.

The Human Alliance Against Demons. Representatives from three great nations and thirteen smaller states gathered around a circular table, their agenda overflowing.

However, for over a year, only one truly vital topic had dominated their discussions.

“It’s ‘him’ again…” a voice grated, filled with suppressed frustration.

“The Virus King, Lord of Disease…”

A grave voice. Then… a profound, utter silence descended.

Roughly a year had passed since that name began to be whispered. In that single year, the human population had plummeted by over ten percent.

They were murdered.

By a blade striking from the shadows.

By an arrow loosed from an unseen hand.

By dark magic.

A warrior might have parried the blade. Sensed the presence and dodged the arrow. Sharpened their spirit and resisted the magic.

But such skills were beyond the reach of mere farmers. They were not knights, soldiers, or mages. The Virus King, Lord of Disease, almost exclusively targeted the farmers of rural villages, far from the protection of cities.

No one dared venture out at night anymore. No one entered the perpetually dim forests, even during the day. Even working in the fields in broad daylight offered no sense of security.

Though city defenses were heavily fortified, fear gripped everyone. People abandoned their homes, their livelihoods, their familiar villages, just to cling to life – a tragically commonplace occurrence.

The vast and fertile land itself had become humanity’s enemy.

Yet, most cities remained untouched. The armies stationed throughout the land, with few exceptions, had suffered no direct attacks.

“It seems the Kingdom has suffered the most…”

“The Empire appears to be holding strong. We have high expectations for you in the coming decisive battle.”

“We of the Holy Kingdom will smite the enemies of God.”

Despite the near-total darkness obscuring their faces, sparks seemed to fly between the representatives of the Empire, the Kingdom, and the Holy Kingdom. Humanity was not united.

Their origins differed.

Their political systems differed.

Their histories differed.

Their cultures differed.

The size of their territories, the extent of their losses—everything.

They were a patchwork alliance united only by a common enemy.

A year ago, that had been enough. After a long, arduous war spanning over four centuries, humanity was on the cusp of victory, pushing the demons to the desolate edges of the continent.

All that remained was to launch the final offensive.

But the demons were a foe that humanity could only overcome by uniting all its strength. Victory was certain, but the cost would be immeasurable.

Victory would bring nothing but peace of mind and honor. No fertile lands to seize. No treasures to plunder.

With victory in sight, human unity had fractured.

Still, they maintained their vigilance along the borders, occasionally launching small-scale attacks to whittle down the enemy’s forces. They believed that through attrition, the demons, lacking fertile lands, would eventually be defeated. They should have been.

Until the Virus King, Lord of Disease, appeared.

“…We have no choice but to increase patrols and strengthen our vigilance.”

The weary conclusion, reached countless times before, was utterly banal.

“But the rural villages…”

“We, too, are stretched thin just protecting the cities. Yet, precisely because of that, the cities have remained untouched by his evil hand.”

The whispered exchange, too, was a familiar refrain.

“…If only he… If only the Virus King, Lord of Disease, were gone…”

Someone choked out the words in the now completely darkened room.

Those words echoed the sentiment of all humanity.

The Virus King, Lord of Disease, was an early riser.

…Or sometimes, she slept in.

“Master, wake up.”

I nestled snugly in my canopied bed, listening to the sweet voice calling my name.

“…Whoa, what’s with the suspicious bulge?”

The blankets were ripped away.

“I knew it! I told you to stop bringing Barghests into bed with you!”

Startled by her words, the pack of large black dogs—Black Hound Barghests—that had been snuggled around me under the covers scattered.

They scrambled over each other to jump out the window. Which, by the way, was on the second floor.

“Ahh, Liz, good morning…”

I greeted the dark elf maid standing beside my bed, her silver, short-cropped hair adorable.

Her name was Lizlit Finis. I called her Liz for short.

Her figure—curvaceous where it should be, toned where it should be—was stunning. Even I, as a woman, felt a pang of… not lust, but envy.

She wore a navy shirt and a midi skirt, a white, low-cut apron dress, and a white-brimmed cap. On her legs were white stockings and a garter belt that I couldn’t really see right now. The navy of her shirt and skirt accentuated her brown skin, creating a beautiful contrast with the frilled white apron, the white-brimmed cap, and, most of all, her silver hair.

Perfect.

The British Empire invented many revolutionary technologies. But even they never created anything greater than the Victorian maid uniform and the culture of maids.

The basic design was mine, a compromise between her preference for a more practical, shorter skirt and my desire for a traditional long skirt.

Amidst the overall traditional maid outfit, only her personal red scarf deviated from the norm. But it was cute, so there was no problem.

“Honestly… Please get up. Are you really the Virus King, Lord of Disease?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s only one Virus King, Lord of Disease.”

I was the Virus King, Lord of Disease. Bestowed upon me by His Majesty the Demon King: the position of supreme commander, a commander’s salary, a suburban mansion, and a personal maid.

“That’s not what I… Never mind. Master, you know what I mean…”

Liz’s expression was one of resignation.

What she wanted from me, I suppose, was an attitude befitting a supreme commander of the Demon King’s army: always composed, dignified, full of authority and composure.

Yeah, I get it.

But if I acted all composed, dignified, and authoritative in my own bedroom right after waking up, I’d get an ulcer.

It’s already a tough job as it is. After all, I’m just a 26-year-old Japanese woman currently suffering from a bit of localized amnesia.

I do have memories of living in Japan, but parts of them are like Swiss cheese.

Specifically, I can’t remember names. My own name, the names of my family and friends. And I can’t clearly recall scenes where names are being used.

In other words, my memory is pretty much shot. Identity crisis level shot. Place names and historical figures are fine, though.

But this is another world. Remembering place names is completely useless.

So why am I called the Virus King, Lord of Disease, serving as a supreme commander of the Demon King’s army?

Yeah, life’s twists and turns are truly baffling.

But it’s not all bad.

I’m called “Master” by an adorable dark elf maid, who gently… well, she did rip the blankets off me today, but let’s forget about that. Gently woken up, taken care of, three meals a day plus snacks and naps.

Yeah, life’s twists and turns are truly baffling.

“By the way, could you please stop bringing Barghests into your room?”

“Why?”

“They are legitimate magical beasts. Even under your control, there’s always a possibility of something happening. Besides, it could interfere with magical signature identification in case of an emergency.”

Ah, right. Because they were almost completely buried under the covers.

“I was a little cold last night.”

“If you tell me, I’ll bring you more blankets.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“I’m a maid. Just ring the bell, and I’ll come anytime…”

“You could sleep with me, Liz.”

“I’m your bodyguard.” Liz sighed.

“Wouldn’t sleeping in the same bed be more bodyguard-like?”

“…Well, I can’t say that’s entirely wrong.”

“You sleep at night, right, Liz?”

“Of course. As you know, I sleep in the next room so I can respond immediately if anything happens.”

“So, wouldn’t it be more efficient to sleep together?”

I pressed on.

“…That’s what they call mixing business with pleasure. I’m the type who likes to keep work and private life separate.”

She didn’t fall for it.

“Then let’s do it privately.”

I persisted, just for the fun of it.

“Could you save that kind of sleep talk for when you’re actually asleep?”

She shut me down.

“Now, it’s time for breakfast. Please get ready quickly. You’re summoned to the royal castle today, you know.”

“Right.”

It’s not like I forgot.

Absolutely not.

I just enjoyed a little lighthearted banter with Liz after waking up.

“Could you bring my clothes?”

“Thanks, Liz.”

“You’re welcome.”

I took off my nightclothes and put on the outfit Liz brought, piece by piece.

First, a light green robe. Made of magically woven cloth, but a common item in this country.

Then a dark green hooded robe. Also a common item—but a bit more high-end, apparently, as the hood was edged with gold.

Next, a shoulder cloth. Like a long scarf draped over the shoulders instead of wrapped around the neck. Black with gold embroidery and rune lettering.

Around my neck, on a cord, hung several amulets: a vial of sand, a large, rune-inscribed beast’s fang, and a metal plate engraved with a magic circle and a round jewel at the center.

In my hand, a staff. A gnarled wooden staff with an octahedral blue gem bound to it by eight iron chains. The very picture of an evil sorcerer’s staff.

Finally, after pulling up the hood, I picked up the mask. No need to wear it yet. But I took another look at it.

Jet black, without a single air hole. A row of engraved markings on the left side resembled an eye, but they were purely decorative. The markings emitted a faint orange glow, flickering irregularly, unsettling to behold.

This was the formal attire of the Virus King, Lord of Disease.

This was me, now.

—The lowest, most vile mage, master of disease and poison.

…Incidentally, even dressed like this, I was still the same ordinary woman, with no particular magical talent. These items were expensive, yes, but they were all focused on defense.

Those were all minor details.

Even without these things, I had become the sixth of the five supreme commanders of the Demon King’s army, feared by both enemy and ally alike. The weapons I wielded were the common sense and basic human decency of my world.

I dramatically swished the hem of my robe.

“Let’s go, Liz.”

“Yes, Master. —Lord of Disease.”

I called out to Liz, and she bowed respectfully.

I was the Virus King, Lord of Disease.

Species: Human.

Objective: Human extinction.

“By the way, you do realize we’re having breakfast before going to the royal castle, right?”

“That’s why I’m getting into character.”

“Ah, yes… Of course…”