Page 48 of The Dark Lord Awakens (Dark Service #1)
Lucien/Beau
I woke up to the sound of Azrael quietly arranging my breakfast tray by the window—a definite improvement over the foot-of-the-bed vigil he’d been so fond of.
After my not-so-subtle hints about personal space and the concept of knocking, he’d reluctantly adjusted his morning routine.
Baby steps in demon butler domestication.
Mr. Snuggles stirred against my side, his warm scaly body curled in the hollow between my ribs and arm. He made a soft rumbling sound without opening his eyes, his tail tightening slightly around my wrist.
“Good morning, my lord,” Azrael said, noticing I was awake. “I trust you slept well?”
“Like the dead, except with more drooling and less decomposition.” I yawned, stretching luxuriously with my free arm. Mr. Snuggles huffed in sleepy protest at the movement but didn’t relinquish his position. “What’s on the agenda for today’s episode of ‘Extreme Makeover: Demon Realm Edition’?”
“The department heads await your presence for the morning briefing, followed by your inspection of the camp at midday,” Azrael replied, laying out my now-standard outfit of tailored pants and a crisp button-down shirt.
He’d stopped visibly flinching when handling my “void garments,” though I occasionally caught him eyeing the spiky horror-show outfits gathering dust in the closet with something like nostalgic longing.
“Right, the morning briefing.” I nodded, sliding out of bed.
Mr. Snuggles made a disgruntled sound but simply curled into the warm spot I’d left behind, clearly choosing sleep over the prospect of a morning meeting.
“Let me guess—more forest refugees, more resource shortages, and more nobles pretending they’ve always been progressive champions of the common demon? ”
“Your insight is remarkable as always, my lord,” Azrael replied with what might have been the ghost of a smile.
It had been just over a month since we’d established the camp, and somehow, impossibly, things were actually going well.
The initial emergency phase had stabilized into something resembling a functional community.
People were fed, sheltered, and clean. Medical cases had improved dramatically.
We’d even established rudimentary education programs for the children, though I drew the line at naming the school after me.
The last thing I needed was “Lucien Noir Elementary” on my conscience.
But the costs were astronomical. Feeding nearly forty thousand demons daily was draining the treasury faster than a college student’s bank account on spring break.
And the camp kept growing—fifty to eighty new forest refugees arrived daily, either fleeing whatever was consuming the Howling Forest or drawn by rumors of the dark lord’s unexpected generosity.
Which reminded me—I needed to check on our new revenue stream. After reviewing the treasury reports with Lord Taxman, I’d finally implemented the solution I’d been working on.
“Supremo,” I called quietly, making sure Azrael was occupied with arranging my breakfast tray by the window.
The blue interface materialized before me, thankfully with its volume adjusted to a reasonable level. [Helpdesk Supreme welcomes valued customer Lord Lucien. This unit is pleased to provide your merchant account summary as of this morning.]
A detailed report appeared, showing a series of transactions that made my business major heart sing.
The listings we’d created for Iferona’s unique resources had attracted immediate attention across multiple realms. Shadow Essence was selling faster than we could extract it, and the Void Mushrooms from the Murk Marshes had become an overnight sensation after being featured in something called Immortal Gourmand Monthly .
I smiled, remembering the day three weeks ago when I’d first introduced the department heads to the concept of void commerce…
Three weeks earlier
I stood in the council chamber, facing the assembled department heads with what I hoped was an expression of dark lord confidence rather than the nervous excitement I actually felt.
“I’ve devised a solution to our resource shortages,” I announced. “We’re going to sell Iferona’s unique products to other realms through the void.”
A stunned silence fell over the room. Lord Taxman’s quill dropped from his suddenly limp fingers, splattering ink across his meticulously maintained ledger—a disaster he didn’t even seem to notice.
“The… the void itself?” Magister Wiggles whispered, the magical patterns beneath his translucent skin swirling frantically. “Direct commerce with the primordial darkness?”
“Um, sort of?” I hedged, not wanting to explain that OpenSesame was basically just interdimensional Amazon. “Think of it as a merchant network that spans multiple realms.”
“Unprecedented,” Lady Shadowfax murmured, her shadowy form rippling with what might have been excitement. “No dark lord has ever established direct trade with the void entities.”
“They’re not exactly enti—” I began but was interrupted by Duke Splashypants surging half out of his seat, webbed hands splashing moisture across the table.
“My lord! The Murk Marshes produce seventeen varieties of void-touched fungi that have never been shared with other realms! The sacred mushrooms of the deep pools! The luminous caps of the twilight banks! The throbbing stems of the midnight bloom that?—”
“Yes, thank you, Duke Splashypants,” I cut in before his fungal enthusiasm could get any more suggestive. “That’s exactly the kind of unique resource I’m talking about.”
General Smashington slammed a massive fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. “The forges of Iferona! Our blades are quenched in shadow itself! Other realms will tremble at the chance to possess such weapons!”
“Or collect them as exotic artifacts,” I suggested quickly. “Let’s focus on the ‘valuable collectibles’ angle rather than ‘tools for conquest.’”
“Each department will oversee the collection and preparation of their specific resources,” I continued, walking around the table to place small black discs in front of each department head. “These are your commerce terminals. They connect directly to the void merchant network.”
Magister Wiggles lifted his terminal with trembling hands, his eyes wide with reverence. “A direct conduit to the void’s mysteries,” he whispered, the magical patterns beneath his skin forming what looked suspiciously like the OpenSesame logo before dissolving back into chaos.
“When activated, each terminal will provide you with your own interface and assistant,” I explained, “similar to mine but with features specific to your department’s needs.”
“We get our own void entity?” Duke Splashypants gasped, accidentally spraying the table with droplets in excitement.
“In a manner of speaking,” I said. “Let me demonstrate.”
I touched Duke Splashypants’ terminal, and a shimmering blue window materialized above it, smaller than my own but just as sleek.
A pleasant, slightly bubbly voice emerged: [Greetings, esteemed merchant.
This is Commerce Assistant Version 4.2.7, ready to facilitate your interdimensional trade endeavors. ]
The entire room gasped collectively. Duke Splashypants actually fell off his chair.
“The void speaks directly to us!” Magister Wiggles whispered, dropping to his knees. “The ancient texts spoke of such communion, but I never dreamed…”
“It’s fairly straightforward,” I explained, trying to keep things practical while helping Duke Splashypants back into his seat. “Each assistant can be customized and even named according to your preferences.”
“Named?” General Smashington looked bewildered. “We may bestow designations upon void entities?”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Mine is called Supremo.”
This revelation seemed to shock them even more than the interfaces themselves.
“You have… nicknamed an aspect of the void?” Lady Shadowfax asked, her shadowy form condensing with what might have been awe or horror.
“It’s not that big a deal,” I said, wondering why they were so fixated on this point. “You can call yours whatever you want.”
Lord Taxman, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. “My lord, as treasury administrator, will I have oversight of all financial transactions?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “You’ll have admin access to the financial side of all department accounts, though each department head will manage their own inventory and listings.”
The small, meticulous demon straightened his spectacles with trembling fingers. “And… and how will the void tokens manifest in our treasury?”
“They’ll be automatically converted to gold and delivered directly to the treasury vault,” I explained, having worked this out with Supremo earlier. “You’ll receive notifications of all deposits.”
Lord Taxman made a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a squeak. “Automated currency conversion with physical manifestation? Without exchange rate fluctuation or transport fees?” His voice rose steadily until he was practically shrieking. “INSTANTANEOUS SETTLEMENT WITH TANGIBLE ASSETS?”
“Yes, that’s basically?—”
“FINANCIAL REVOLUTION!” Lord Taxman shrieked, leaping onto his chair with surprising agility for such a staid demon. “DO YOU COMPREHEND THE IMPLICATIONS, MY LORD? THE END OF CROSS-REALM TRANSACTION FRICTION! THE ELIMINATION OF COUNTERPARTY RISK!”
The other department heads stared in shock at the normally composed treasurer’s outburst. I gently motioned for him to sit down. “Yes, it’s very exciting. Please stop shouting financial terminology.”
One by one, I activated each department head’s terminal, creating their individual interfaces.
The reactions were priceless —Mistress Pokey’s flowers bloomed all at once when her window appeared; General Smashington accidentally punched through the table when his assistant greeted him, and Magister Wiggles appeared to enter a trancelike state, muttering incantations at his interface.