Page 57 of The Dark Lord Awakens (Dark Service #1)
“Consider it done.” I nodded. “I’ll order more training materials and arrange for your most experienced operators to train others. Maybe we can set up some kind of certification program—‘Heavy Machinery University’ or something equally impressive on a resume.”
Clipboard88 looked delighted at the suggestion. “An excellent idea, my lord! Perhaps with ceremonial hard hats for graduates?”
“Sure, why not? Nothing says ‘I’m qualified to operate dangerous equipment’ like a fancy hat. Works for college graduations.”
Lady Insertnamehere rose next, her elegant robes rustling softly.
“The Fashion Guild has finalized designs for the boutique interiors, my lord.” She gestured to an assistant, who unrolled detailed drawings of sleek, modern retail spaces.
“We have incorporated void display concepts while maintaining aesthetic elements unique to Iferona.”
I examined the drawings, genuinely impressed.
In the month since our first discussion about commercial development, the nobles had thrown themselves into fashion and retail with surprising enthusiasm.
The designs showed elegant shops with display windows, fitting rooms, and customer seating areas—all concepts that had been completely foreign to Iferona before.
“These look great,” I told her. “Just make sure they comply with the new building codes. I don’t want fancy boutiques with no fire exits or plumbing that dumps directly into the street.”
“Of course, my lord,” she agreed quickly. “Sir Formalitee has been most… thorough in his review of our compliance.”
Sir Formalitee puffed up with pride at this acknowledgment of his regulatory authority. I swear the man got more joy from a properly filed permit than most people got from sex.
I noticed several other nobles exchanging glances at this, not all of them pleased.
Lord Whatshisface, a portly demon with elaborate facial hair, looked particularly disgruntled.
He’d been one of the most resistant to the changes over the past month, clinging to traditional noble privileges and complaining about every innovation.
Magister Wiggles practically bounced to his feet next, the magical patterns beneath his translucent skin swirling in excited patterns.
“My lord! The energy integration systems have exceeded all projections in our preliminary tests! By combining void solar collection panels with our natural shadow currents, we have achieved a three hundred forty-seven percent increase in power generation efficiency!”
He proceeded to explain a complex system that, as far as I could tell, was essentially magical solar and wind power combined with some kind of arcane battery storage. The technical details went over my head, but the basic concept seemed sound—and his enthusiasm was infectious.
“So we’re basically going green while still staying appropriately dark and shadowy?” I asked. “Environmentally friendly evil overlord lair? I like it.”
Magister Wiggles nodded enthusiastically. “Precisely, my lord! Sustainable darkness! Renewable shadow energy! Eco-friendly arcane power! The void manuals call this concept ‘carbon neutrality,’ though in our case it might be more accurately termed ‘shadow neutrality’!”
“Implement it throughout the city,” I decided. “Nothing says ‘progressive dark realm’ like sustainable magical energy. Plus, I’m guessing it’s cheaper than whatever we’re doing now, which seems to involve a lot of burning things and hoping for the best.”
Magister Wiggles looked like he might weep with joy. “Thank you, my lord! You shall not regret this visionary decision! I have already designed special collection arrays that resemble traditional demonic architectural elements while maximizing energy absorption!”
The discussions continued, with each stakeholder group contributing ideas and raising concerns.
Healer 47 advocated for neighborhood health clinics integrated with the residential areas.
Mistress Pokey presented plans for urban gardens and green spaces that would serve both aesthetic and practical purposes.
Duke Splashypants proposed an innovative water management system for the Murk Marshes that would both protect the ecosystem and provide sustainable resources.
General Smashington outlined security considerations for each district, while Lady Shadowfax suggested discreet surveillance measures to maintain order.
Throughout it all, I was struck by the genuine engagement of everyone present.
This wasn’t just a theoretical exercise to them—it was a blueprint for a future they genuinely wanted to build.
Even most of the nobles, motivated primarily by self-interest, were contributing constructively to the process.
There were exceptions, of course. Lord Whatshisface and a few others of his faction remained mostly silent, their expressions ranging from skeptical to openly hostile. When they did speak, it was to raise objections about costs or traditions, thinly veiled attempts to slow the process.
“The treasury cannot possibly support such extravagant expenditures,” Lord Whatshisface finally declared, his jowls quivering with indignation. “These ‘void principles’ may sound appealing, but Iferona has survived for millennia with our traditional building methods.”
“Survived is a generous term,” I replied coolly. “Half the city is literally crumbling, the water is undrinkable without magical purification, and waste disposal consists of ‘throw it somewhere and hope it disappears.’ I’d say we’re overdue for an upgrade.”
“But the cost?—”
“Is being addressed,” I cut him off. “The treasury is being replenished through void commerce, and I’ve allocated specific funds for each phase of reconstruction. Unless you’d prefer to contribute from your personal fortune? No? Didn’t think so.”
“Void commerce,” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “Mysterious transactions with unknown entities. Most concerning.”
I could feel Azrael tensing beside me, his temperature dropping several degrees. The nobles who had been present during previous confrontations—who had witnessed Azrael’s reaction to disrespect—quickly distanced themselves from Lord Whatshisface, both physically and metaphorically.
“Would you care to inspect the treasury records personally, Lord Whatshisface?” I asked, my voice deceptively pleasant.
“I’m sure Lord Taxman would be delighted to walk you through every transaction.
It might take several days… perhaps weeks…
of your valuable time, but I wouldn’t want to leave you with concerns.
He’s been dying to show someone his new color-coded filing system. ”
Lord Whatshisface paled slightly, catching the implied threat. “That won’t be necessary, my lord. I merely wished to exercise appropriate fiscal caution.”
“Your concern is noted,” I said, making it clear the discussion was over. “Filed right between ‘things I care about’ and ‘things that matter,’ which is a very thin folder. Now, let’s move on to implementation logistics.”
The meeting continued for another hour, working out schedules, resource allocation, and responsibility assignments. By the time we concluded, the sun was setting, casting shadows through the hall’s high windows.
“The planning phase is complete,” I announced, rising from my seat. “Tomorrow, we accelerate the actual work. The next shipment of void equipment will arrive at dawn, and I want the eastern district demolition completed by the end of the week.”
A ripple of excitement ran through the room. This was really happening—not just plans and models, but actual rebuilding.
“Don’t forget the dinner tonight,” I added. “Eight o’clock, grand dining hall. It’s been on the calendar for two weeks, so I expect everyone to be there. Consider it both a celebration of our progress and a chance to continue these discussions in a more relaxed setting.”
The formal dinner had been Azrael’s suggestion, surprisingly enough.
After watching me interact casually with citizens at the camp, he’d proposed a more “appropriate” venue for showcasing the dark lord’s magnificence while still allowing for the collaboration I valued.
The castle staff had been preparing for it ever since, determined to demonstrate that they could adapt to the new Iferona as well as anyone.
As the council members filed out, still buzzing with excitement about both the rebuilding plans and the evening’s festivities, I turned to Azrael.
“That went well,” I said. “Though I’m guessing Lord Whatshisface and his cronies will need some additional… encouragement to get with the program.”
“Indeed, my lord,” Azrael replied, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent that sent a slight chill down my spine. “Perhaps a more private discussion of their concerns would be beneficial.”
“Just don’t do anything that would ruin them permanently,” I said, only half joking.
“Of course, my lord. I shall merely… clarify certain misconceptions they may harbor.”
The gleam in his crimson eyes suggested these “clarifications” might be memorable, if not entirely comfortable. I decided not to press for details.
“I should get ready for dinner,” I said, stretching until my back made a concerning series of pops. “What am I wearing again?”
“The midnight-blue suit with silver threading, my lord,” Azrael replied. “As discussed last week during your fitting.”
“Right, the one that made you do that thing with your eyebrow.” I grinned, recalling his subtle but unmistakable reaction when I’d tried it on. “I’m still not sure if that meant you liked it or thought I looked ridiculous.”
Something flickered in Azrael’s expression—too quick to identify but definitely there. “The suit is… most becoming, my lord. It highlights your enhanced features most effectively.”
Was it my imagination, or was there something beyond professional assessment in his voice?