The Demon King's Hero Of Light 32 Chapter 32 Flash Mob

"Aella…err… Your Majesty?" called Torrod, from the back of the group of guards.

"Yes?" she asked, turning away from the squirming n.o.ble on the floor.

"There's a bunch of people getting closer carrying pitchforks, axes and weapons, and they don't look very happy," called Ulrik.

"Sounds like a mob. Where do you get pitchforks and axes in the city?" asked Kieran.

"From whoever wants me dead," said Aella, turning back to the n.o.bles. "If they get this far, I will kill all of you."

The n.o.bles' look of fear changed to horror. They all darted towards the mob, yelling and screaming at them to turn back and reconsider. The mob paused it's rush, but didn't stop. Aella merely stood there, waiting with her hands on her hips. The n.o.bles kept glancing back at her, as they tried to get the mob to stop. Finally, one offered to pay the people to just go home. That got their attention.

"How bad off do the people have to be, that they are willing to do such things as all this, just for a little money?" asked Aella, motioning to the mob and the people working furiously to build walls.

"Most of them are women. I bet they all have kids at home," said Morden.

Aella nodded. The husbands had been sent off to fight in the military, leaving the demonesses at home with the kids, raising the next generation of fighters. Except the n.o.bles still were mostly men. Turning back to them as they returned to her fearfully, she pointed at the one that was curled into a ball on the floor of the warehouse.

"These empty warehouses are mine, until I decide whether to give them back or not. The people need to live in them until the city is in a better position to handle its population. All of you n.o.bles, that have answered my summons, will get to live, with the understanding that you will all answer to me, and follow my commands. Step out of line, and you will find yourselves worse off than this one here."

They all nodded without hesitation. She didn't miss the fact that there were a number of people watching with grins. It didn't seem as if the normal people cared much for the n.o.bles.

"There will be one warehouse for the n.o.bles to move into. I will leave it up to the four of you to figure out how that warehouse is fixed up. You have one week, just like all of the rest of the people, to move into it. Anyone caught out of the warehouse district will be arrested, or killed, depending on the reason they were found. I will have one or two routes allowed for travel, otherwise you will have to get permission to travel throughout the city. People own property and I will not be having it stolen. Are there other n.o.bles that haven't come today?"

"Yes, your majesty," managed one of the demons, stepping forward cautiously. He was the same demon that had offered to pay the mob to leave. "There are three who did not come today."

"Cyran, you and Seifer go with that n.o.ble, to fetch those three and bring them here. I want no excuse short of death to keep them from coming, and if they give you too much trouble, try removing fingers. That can be a great motivator."

Kieran nodded seriously, no doubt remembering how Aella had smashed his hands during their fight.

"Where are they going?" asked Firion as he returned with a grin.

"To fetch people," Aella said with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry, I'm sure there will be more…"

This time she caught the arrow, right before it hit her square in the chest. With a raised eyebrow, she stepped aside, letting the next one fly past her. Ulrik cried out as it hit his foot, going through his boot, into the floor underneath.

"I'm on it!" cheered Firion, darting away again.

Raising the arrow to examine it, she saw that there was a slight discoloration on the tip of the arrowhead. Licking it, she sighed happily.

"I like the flavor of this poison. It leaves this little tingle on the tongue."

"Poison?" squeaked Ulrik, with the broken arrow in his hand where he had just pulled it out of his foot. "I'm going to die!"

"Don't worry," she said, turning back to the n.o.bles. "That last Remove Poison spell is still working on you. It tends to last for a good couple of days."

"Oh!" he sighed in relief, throwing the broken arrow away.

"What poison is this?" she asked the n.o.bles, holding up the arrow. "I like the flavor."

"We don't know, Your Majesty," whispered one of the n.o.bles, the same as before. He must be the only one able to speak.

"I like you. I want you to teach me about money in the kingdom. None of my tutors or advisors seem to have a clue."

He nodded quickly, swallowing compulsively.

"The rest of you can go get things rolling on your moves. Don't worry about the three who didn't show up today, they won't be n.o.bles for long. And take this worthless demoness with you. Maybe she has someone who can fix her up so she doesn't die from blood loss."

The two quickly gathered the moaning, half-conscious demoness up, and carted her off. A small group of demonesses could be seen approaching with a wagon of lumber.

"Please forgive us for being late, Your Majesty. We were getting the wood you requested for the construction," said one of them, bowing to her.

Aella moved over to the wagon to see that these boards were far better than what the people had been using so far.

"I promised to pay all who worked on the warehouses today, 1 gold each. That includes all of you. Tell those who don't know what they're doing, what to do, and get this project done. Everyone in the city will need to be moved in by the end of a week. The n.o.bles will get one warehouse all to themselves, so the rest of the population doesn't have to put up with them. There will need to be some of the warehouses converted into business areas, where the owners of the businesses will live above their stores."

"The empty warehouses won't be enough for all that you ask," said the demoness in charge of the construction crew carefully.

"Then we need to see what's in the other warehouses," said Aella turning to head over to the ones that were locked. Everyone rushed to follow her: the one n.o.ble, the head construction demoness, and her guards.

As the sun began to fade, Aella finally finished looking through the last warehouse. Turning to see the stream of people that followed her, she decided to head back to the palace. The three n.o.bles who had ignored her summons trudged along with bandaged hands, not making eye contact with anyone. The a.s.sa.s.sins had stopped coming, but Aella wasn't sure they were done. The people had drifted off, as she paid them their gold coin. Those who insisted on keeping working had set up lanterns to light the work areas. She paid them anyways, and headed for the palace.

She didn't stop until she reached the dining hall, throwing herself into her chair. Her guards all took seats, leaving the n.o.bles standing and waiting for her to say something.

"Edgar, I'm hungry."

"Of course, Your Majesty," bowed the demon, clicking his fingers. The palace servants began bringing platters of food and mugs of ale for everyone.

She spied the tutors standing against the wall, looking uncomfortable about being left all day. Turning to the one demon she had asked to come teach her about money, she motioned for him to sit at the table.

"I want the three of you to explain why I should let you live," she said, taking a drink from her mug. "Please try to make it good."

"Your Majesty, I oversee the food coming into the city," said one of the demons haltingly.

"Someone else can do that," she said, dismissively.

"My contacts only speak with me!" he exclaimed, panicked.

"If you're dead, they'll speak to someone else," she said with a shrug, plucking some meat off a duck in front of her.

"I have no heirs yet. My wife will be left alone…" his voice trailed off.

"How long have you been married?" she asked, popping a grape into her mouth.

"Only a week," he whispered.
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"Did she want to marry you?"

He didn't answer, only looked at the floor. His knees buckled and he kneeled before her, clutching his b.l.o.o.d.y hands to his belly.

"And the rest of you?" she asked, turning to the other two.

"I am an important liaison between the people of the city and monster trackers. Whenever the monsters are too close to the city, I am the one who notifies the military to stop them," said one of them.

"And why have I never heard of these monster trackers before?" Aella asked. The duck was really good, and she kept going back to it.

"My brother started them only last year. The monsters were not being tracked, if they managed to get past the military lines, and were attacking our trade caravans. My brother got a group together and started tracking them."

"That's very interesting. Alright, what about you?" she asked the last one.

"Your Majesty, I do many important things for this city, but any of my sons can take over what I do. There is no reason I can give you to not kill me," he whimpered, falling to his knees. "I can only beg you to hear me out."

"I'm listening," she said, trying a yellow porridge she decided she didn't like.

"My grandson was being born when I received the summons to go to the warehouse district. I sent one of my servants to verify, as I dearly wished to see my first grandchild being born."

Aella smiled, standing and cutting his head off with the black sword that her glove had turned into. The other two n.o.bles fell to the floor, dodging her blow in shock. As the n.o.ble's head hit the ground, she flicked her wrist, turning the sword back into a glove.

"Tell me more about these monster hunters," she said, grabbing a hunk of bread before sitting back down.

"Why did you kill him?" asked the first n.o.ble.

"Was it because he said he didn't have a reason?" asked the second.

"Oh, please. He was clearly lying. First of all, men aren't allowed to be present when a child is born, only midwives. Second, no servant ever arrived to inform me of the reason for his absence. Third, his knees didn't crack when he fell on them, so clearly, he wasn't as old as he claimed. Every old person I have ever met, has weak knees."

"His knees?" said the first, confusion plain on his face.

"He was lying, for his only son died, and his daughter is too young to bear children. You could hear his knees not creak?" asked the second.

"Even the two of you have creaky knees," she shrugged, taking a drink of her ale.