Itsuki Hiroto sat uneasily upon the onyx throne—still a little stiff from yesterday's Trial of the Seal—when the grand doors of the Hall of Echoes burst open. Sunlight sliced through the smoky torches, illuminating a line of human emissaries who advanced with the grim air of crusading knights.
At their head strode Chancellor Beltram, robes billowing, face pale as the ivory pillars. Behind him came Ambassador Ravric, sword‑hilt clicking rhythmically against his side, and a phalanx of imperial guards, steel drawn.
Gerald rose from his throne with surprising speed. "Beltram," he said evenly, voice echoing in the cavernous chamber. "To what do I owe this… urgent visit?"
Beltram stepped forward, voice trembling. "Your Majesty, Captain Hiroto—Protector of the Seal—stands accused of treason against the Empire. We demand his immediate explanation." He pointed a gloved finger at Hiroto. "He betrayed our trust by pledging an oath to your realm!"
A ripple of gasps passed among the demon lords. Virelya's hand strayed to her sword, but she remained seated, assessing the situation.
Hiroto's heart raced so fiercely he feared it might burst his chest. Treason? He scrambled to stand, cloak tangling around his feet. "Chancellor Beltram," he stammered, voice cracking, "I haven't betrayed anyone. I—"
Beltram cut him off. "Every kingdom has heard of your crowning as Protector of the Seal. You swore fealty to Gerald and his court. By Imperial law, any subject taking an oath to another sovereign is a traitor!"
Ravric added coldly, "We cannot allow one man—especially a mere clerk—to hold allegiances to two realms." He stepped forward, heel tapping on the marble. "Arrest him, if he cannot explain himself."
The hall thundered as demon guards shifted, halberds at the ready. Gerald held up a hand. "Arrest him?" He looked at Hiroto, concern flickering in his eyes. "My friend is a servant of peace, not a spy. Explain yourself, Hiroto."
Hiroto swallowed hard. The room's oppressive silence pressed in on him. All eyes—human, demon, advisor—waited for his words. He closed his eyes a moment, recalling last night's ritual: the warmth of the ember‑lotus tea, the solemn promise he had made. I never meant to betray anyone. I'm just a clerk… with accidental powers.
He opened his eyes, voice trembling but clear. "Your Imperial Highness, Your Majesty, I swear on my life I am not a traitor. I never sought to serve any throne—least of all mine. I took an oath to help maintain peace between our nations, not to betray my homeland."
Beltram's lip curled. "An oath to demons! Your words mean nothing when your actions speak treachery."
A murmur of agreement rose among the imperial guards. They shifted, fingers twitching toward hilts.
At that moment, seizing the sliver of goodwill he'd earned at the summit, Ambassador Ravric stepped forward and produced a parchment— the Pact of the Summit, signed by every delegation. "This document," he said, brandishing it, "summons Captain Hiroto to serve as a neutral mediator. It explicitly states his duties are to both realms. He serves no single crown."
Beltram's eyes flickered to the scroll. He read the preamble: "We, humans and demons, united in the name of peace, shall appoint Itsuki Hiroto as Protector of the Seal and mediator of our accords."
Ravric continued, "Your Majesty graciously appointed him to this role. How can the Empire claim treason when our own hand has signed his commission?"
The hall fell silent again. Demon lords exchanged glances; some bowed their heads, impressed by Ravric's deft diplomacy. Gerald's thoughtful gaze passed between the two envoys, weighing their arguments.
Beltram's face flushed. "Technicalities!" he burst out. "Our laws forbid dual allegiance, but—"
Gerald held up his staff. A pulse of silver fire pulsed through the runes on its head, and the room hushed instantly. "Chancellor, I respect our treaty's letter and spirit. But I will not see this man—my friend—vilified by pedantry. Captain Hiroto's oath binds him to the peace we forged. If you cannot accept that, then perhaps this treaty itself merits revision."
Virelya stepped forward, voice low but firm. "Chancellor, with respect, Captain Hiroto has done more for both our realms in one week than many generals in a lifetime. Arresting him would not only break our trust—it would plunge us back into war."
A long, tense moment passed. Beltram's jaw clenched. He glanced at the imperial guards, then at the demon sentries, and finally at Hiroto himself—tilted hands, anxious eyes, trembling posture.
"Very well," Beltram said at last, voice tight. "We withdraw our summons to arrest. But let it be known: should he falter, he will answer to the Empire's highest court."
A chorus of assent rose from his guards. Gerald inclined his head. "So be it."
Hiroto exhaled, legs shaky. I survived, he thought, but now they see me as a double agent.
---
Without another word, the human delegation backed toward the doors, clearing a path. Ravric gave Hiroto a brief nod—half apology, half respect—before slipping away.
Beltram paused at the threshold, hand on the door. He turned, gaze piercing Hiroto. "I suggest you step lightly. The Empire and Demon King both watch your every move now."
With that, he strode from the hall, doors thundering shut behind him.
A hush fell, broken only by the crackle of Gerald's throne fire. Demon nobles leaned forward, murmurs of admiration and veneration washing over Hiroto like a tide. One general pounded his fist into his palm. "Double agent! He infiltrates our enemies' hearts!" Another called out, "Long live the Silent Savior of Two Worlds!"
Hiroto stared at the cheering demons, heart pounding. They think I served as spy. They love me for it. Panic and disbelief warred inside him.
He sank onto the dais, head in hands. Virelya knelt, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You're safe—for now. But they'll test you again."
Sera appeared beside him, dangling a vial of calming potion. "Drink this. You've earned it… and then maybe take a vacation. Or at least learn to cook those noodles."
Hiroto lifted his head, eyes hollow. "Noodles sound like the only faithful thing in my life."
Azara's voice rang out: "Captain Hiroto." She stepped onto the dais, eyes kind. "You have proven yourself a bridge between worlds—an unparalleled diplomat. Embrace the role you never sought. Without you, peace will unravel."
Hiroto exhaled slowly, steeling himself. A double agent who never betrayed anyone. He swallowed the potion's calming draught and rose.
"Then I'll keep walking the tightrope," he said quietly, "between two realms… and one bowl of noodles at a time."
As the demon nobles applauded and the chamber's echoing cheers washed over him, the reluctant hero realized his fate was sealed: seen as traitor and savior, double agent and peacemaker, he would forever walk the perilous path between duty and desire—ever the clerk, never quite at peace.