The silence stretched, thin and brittle. The only sounds were the slow, oozing drip of the black fluid from the tree and the faint, almost inaudible rustle of leaves from the healthy parts of the forest. I stared at the rock I was sitting on, tracing the cracks in its surface with my eyes. I could feel the Demon King's gaze on me, a physical pressure that made the hair on my arms stand up. I didn't look up. I just sat there, a monument to stubborn inaction.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. "...Do you plan to clear it out by sheer boredom?" he asked, the words laced with a contempt so thick it was almost a solid thing. "A novel, if exceptionally stupid, approach."
I didn't answer. I just kept staring at the rock. I could feel a muscle in my jaw start to twitch, but I forced myself to relax. This was a battle. Not of magic, not of strength, but of absolute stubbornness. And I, a hikkikomori who had once gone three days without leaving her room because the thought of putting on pants was too exhausting, was an expert in this field.
I could feel Angus's nervous energy beside me. He was fluttering in place, a tiny, agitated storm of feathers and anxiety. [Violet? What are you doing? The tree is still leaking! And he's getting that look! That 'I'm-about-to-do-something-terrible-for-the-sake-of-amusement' look! (≧ω≦)]
I ignored him. I just sat there, breathing in the sickly-sweet air. I focused on the rock. On the cracks. On the tiny patch of moss growing in one of them. Anything but the tree, the Demon King, or the crushing weight of my own incompetence.
I heard a soft, frustrated sigh from the Demon King. He shifted his weight, the sound of his bare feet on the dusty soil a soft crunch. He was waiting for me to break. He was waiting for me to give in, to beg, to order him. I wouldn't. I couldn't. Every command was a drain, a piece of my fragile, fleeting strength that I couldn't afford to lose.
"You are a peculiar brand of idiot," he said, his tone a flat, clinical observation. "Most mortals, when faced with a problem they cannot solve, resort to one of two things: panicked whimpering or pointless bravado. You, on the other hand, have chosen to simply... stop. Do you have so little survival instinct?" He stepped closer, and I could feel the heat radiating from him, a warmth that had nothing to do with the forest's life and everything to do with his own inner fire.
"Well. I can't move on until it's cleared." I said, finally looking up at him. My face was as blank as I could make it. The challenge was clear in my eyes, even if my face wasn't.
"You are playing a game you cannot win." He gestured to the tree. "This will not be solved by your pathetic attempt at a stare-down. And I will not bow to the whims of a fool. If you want to get past this wretched place, you will beg."
Well, I'm absolutely not doing that.
Or at least if I ever do, it'll be as a last resort before getting killed, just so I've got the chance that I won't have to live with the shame of it.
So instead, I crossed my arms and leaned back, watching him.
This was not just a stare down, it was a battle of wills.
A battle of stubbornness.
He was a demon king, but could he contend with a stubborn NEET? A man used to those around him following out of fear of death - and being able to kill anyone who resisted at all? Could he deal with someone whose only strength was simply not moving?
He walked over to the trunk of the tree, placing a hand upon its corrupted bark. "This world disgusts me." He said, though he sounded more...bored than angry. "The rot seeps into its very core. Why defend it? Why not just let it die?"
"Maybe because it's their home?" I retort. "Don't pretend you care about the logic or the futility of it. I don't think you care about it at all." I huffed and shook my head. "It's just the demon lord here-"
"Is stronger than I?" He cut through my words, dry, eyes squinting. "Did you expect to lead me by the nose with something so basic?" He scoffed. "I'm not some insecure poser as you might hope." He tapped the corrupted bark. "I can easily do it. I doubt it would tire even you for me to do so. The so-called lord of this world is pathetically weak. Unfortunate for you." He looked at me, a slow, almost lazy grin spreading across his face. "You won't find me so easily manipulated."
...I'm not completely convinced that's true. But I can't call him on it, either.
Provoking him into 'proving' his strength relative to the local demon lord is the only strategy I have, currently, to avoid the gamble of waiting until he loses his patience and hoping the loss of patience is in the direction I want it to be. So I couldn't contradict him.
But I couldn't just sit here and let him mock me into trying to beg. So I had to say something.
"You could have just said 'I'm lazy'."
"A king decides how to portion his attention. I have decided this is unworthy of it." He said, walking towards me.
"You can put it any way you want. You can't fool a lazy person." I said. "I should know. It's the only area of expertise I have. And you're lazy." I gestured towards the tree. "It'd be faster and easier for both of us if you'd just do it, but you'd rather sit and do nothing for hours than do it. No different from doomscrolling instead of doing chores." I huff.
"Your world is full of useless words."
"What's that make a king that's all talk?"
That jab...
Didn't really follow properly, but it was the best I had.
It was that or commenting on his nakedness again, and that was...not what I was trying to do. I'd rather not risk him getting derailed and losing any ground I might have. Assuming I'm not imagining I have any ground to start with.
There's always negative ground, I suppose. I'm definitely not trying to get more of that.
He narrowed his eyes. "Shall I illustrate to you the teeth behind my words again?"
"What teeth? You failed to kill an old woman." I retort.
He was on me so fast I didn't even have the chance to regret my choice of words.
He didn't grab my throat. He didn't even touch me, really. He stopped with my back against the bark of a tree, one hand on either side of my head. He leaned down, our faces just inches apart. His purple eyes were blazing with a cold fire that was far more terrifying than any rage.
"You test my patience," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You are a witless, foolish, pathetic mortal who would be dead a thousand times over if not for a fluke of magic. And yet you stand there and mock me."
"But. There. Is. That fluke." I tried to keep my voice steady, but it came out as a shaky whisper. "You can't kill me. No matter how much you want to." I looked up into those furious purple eyes, and I forced a smile. "So we're stuck together. Until we defeat that demon lord. And that's not happening until I decide to leave this forest." I looked over at the weeping tree. "And you'll be sitting here until I do."
"I can make you suffer," he said, the words a venomous whisper. "I can make you beg for the sweet release of death. A fate your pathetic life has not yet earned."
"You would've already." I pointed out, though I couldn't help but flinch at his words.
It's a gamble but...
I think I'm right. Even if Angus is scared. I just don't think the man in front of me has enough access to his power to break that command just yet.
If only because I could stop him from killing an old woman.
...And maybe because I need to grasp some straw of control. I'm not a fighter. I'm not a mage. The only thing I can do...
Is refuse to move.
He stared at me for a long, silent moment. The fire in his eyes didn't die, but it changed. It cooled from a raging inferno to a cold, calculating ember. He was no longer just angry. He was thinking. Planning. I had pushed him into a corner, and he was looking for a way out.
He pushed himself away from the tree. He turned and walked back to the corrupted bough, the one that was weeping its black tears. He stared at it for a long moment, his back to me. Then, he raised a hand.
There was a sudden white-red flash that filled my vision, and the tree....
Was gone.