The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World-Chapter 88: The Butler Wars

His voice lifted with confidence as he declared, "All I said was that I’m eighteen. I never said you guys were old. Don’t try to toss the blame on me. I won’t carry the pot for anyone."

"The Demon King never lies. The Demon King doesn’t even know how to lie."

He said this with total sincerity, even with a hint of pride in his tone.

Everyone present: "...."

This new Demon King was really quite strange.

Seoryun, one of the kings of the amon continent’s many nations, felt a curious sense of novelty upon hearing the Demon King’s words. It had been a long time since he’d encountered such an unorthodox and unfiltered ruler.

Ever since he had come of age and traveled the main continent, Seoryun had met too many rulers full of calculation—people who meticulously plotted every step, every move, even predicting multiple outcomes before taking action.

Didn’t they find living that way exhausting?

"After all these years, we finally have a normal king," Seoryun sighed.

"I’m not. I didn’t. I have a very responsible butler." The Demon King who is standing at the front, instinctively blurted this out upon hearing that line—his tone so practiced it was as if he’d rehearsed it hundreds of times before.

As soon as the words fell, the air suddenly turned deathly silent.

Seoryun was confused—he couldn’t understand what a simple sigh had to do with a butler. Illiya, the elf, looked like his whole world had collapsed. That phrase—so familiar it couldn’t be more familiar... wasn’t it something that always popped up in the novels his teacher used to read?

It was said that every ridiculously wealthy duke came with a butler who would say something like, "The Duke hasn’t smiled in over a decade."

So... even the Demon King, the ruler of the Demon Realm, had a butler like that?!

The elf was shaken to his core.

The two demons were outrageously angry.

They had only been gone for a few days, right? How had someone with no sense stormed in trying to snatch their position already? If they weren’t no match for that white-haired guy, there was no way they would have given up the role of the Demon King’s personal butler.

What a joke. They weren’t idiots. Who would give up a chance to be near the Demon King? But now what? Sure, there were many who wanted to be the butler, but at least respect the order of who came first.

That thought instantly triggered a sense of crisis in Ke’Oth and N’zall. They began desperately trying to talk their way through it. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

"Your Majesty, there are demons who get close to you with ill intent. Please don’t let yourself be deceived."

"Exactly, exactly. Especially watch out for white-haired demons—they’re all bad news."

The Demon King’s temples throbbed. He knew it would turn into this. Of course stuffing in personal grudges would be inevitable. Other demons picking on his current butler, Sebastian, was just a daily thing now. Honestly, he didn’t even understand why so many demons had a problem with Sebastian.

The guy was a perfectly fine butler. Just that he was...

While the Demon King was immersed in silence, he suddenly felt a slight added weight on his shoulder. When he glanced over, he saw a white-gloved hand resting lightly there.

And the glove—it was unmistakable. Especially the crooked stick-figure "magic circle" stitched into the center.

The Demon King didn’t even need to look. He already knew who was standing behind him.

It was the very person he had just been thinking about—Sebastian.

From the corner of his eye, the Demon King could still see Ke’Oth and N’zall yapping away. He wanted to make a small gesture to warn them, but at that moment, he felt Sebastian’s hand press slightly harder on his shoulder.

A warning not to move.

The Demon King: "..."

He glanced at Ke’Oth and N’zall with a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, silently offering them his prayers—may they survive today... no, every day from now on.

See, Sebastian was a good butler. He was just extremely petty.

"Sigh... So that’s what you two think, huh? That all white-haired demons have ill intentions? I didn’t ask to be like this. If only I had His Majesty’s black hair instead."

The moment those words dropped, Ke’Oth and N’zall, who had just been chatting nonstop, turned stiff as dead chickens whose necks had just been wrung—silent in an instant.

That tone.

That phrasing.

Okay, fine.

It might be time to start thinking about leaving the Demon Race entirely.

Still, their survival instincts kicked in strong. Once they processed the situation, both immediately scrambled to do damage control.

Ke’Oth: "What are you saying, Sebastian? How could you say that about yourself? Everyone in the Demon Race knows how capable you are—we all support you being His Majesty’s personal butler."

Liar. You wish.

N’zall: "Yes, yes! How could you possibly have ill intentions?"

Right after saying that, N’zall realized what he’d said had a double meaning. He panicked and quickly tried to fix it.

"No no no—I mean—you’re good demon. You’re a great... um... thing."

Ke’Oth widened his eyes and looked over at N’zall. He’d just realized—N’zall was that brave? Daring to mock Sebastian so blatantly to his face? He’d never seen a demon with that much nerve.

But after the shock, Ke’Oth found a perfect way to push N’zall under the bus.

He shouted, right before N’zall could say another word: "Sebastian! N’zall just called you a thing!"

The moment the words dropped, the entire Demon King’s palace went silent.

Everyone—whether standing in plain sight or hiding in the shadows—had the exact same thought at that moment.

Ke’Oth, you’re really bold, huh.

Sebastian froze for a second.

He never imagined that after just one trip away, Ke’Oth and N’zall would return even dumber than before. Truly hopeless—growing more idiotic by the day.

Sebastian cursed them silently in his heart, but on the surface, he maintained his polite smile. Whatever happened, he had to stay in character in front of His Majesty.

He was truly, genuinely furious.

At some point, the Demon King had sidled up beside Illiya and, with an air of secrecy, tugged him aside and began whispering all sorts of inside gossip, without a shred of concern for preserving the dignity of his own race.