The Beauty of the Canary

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And so I called for Saint Jeanne, so we could head out to the old Sabnac castle.

She arrived at my office and bowed.

“Demon King Astha. I have arrived.”

She said.

“…”

I had to pause, because there was something about Jeanne that was very different.

She was usually much more childlike.

And so I couldn’t help but feel a little strange to hear her speak in such a graceful manner.

I had to ask what had happened. She replied.

“I remembered that I am called a Saint.”

Apparently, she was now attempting to talk like the nuns from the town church.

It was fine that she looked to them for guidance, but it felt strange all the same. I asked that she be herself.

And then suddenly…

“Hahaha!”

She burst into laughter and then smiled.

“That makes things easier for me. It’s so suffocating.”

So she was also aware of how strange it was.

“Thank you, Demon King.” She said.

I looked at her again.

Her golden hair and fine features. Her armor was mostly white.

She was a rare beauty.

Definitely not a common sight.

Perhaps the most beautiful of any of my subjects.

The succubus also came to mind, but even they could not hold a candle to her.

As I thought of each of their faces, Eve entered the room.

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The Legendary Rebuilding of a World by a Realist Demon King