Loss!

Vivian remembered that goblin.
It was the same Shadow Goblin who, during the last strategy meeting about the Crusade Army, had screeched at the top of his lungs for everyone to scatter and run for their lives.

But now, as she stared at the gray figure bouncing furiously behind the mess hall stove—spittle flying, cursing furiously while swinging an enormous spatula to direct a crooked line of soldiers—Vivian was completely dumbfounded.

A powerful sense of absurdity and dissonance seized her all at once.

“…A Goblin Chef? What kind of dream is this?”

She muttered to herself without thinking.

But looking closer, that goblin chef was… surprisingly particular.

The signature white apron and crookedly perched chef’s hat—though stained with inevitable grease and a bit of flour—were somehow kept in a state of intentional cleanliness.
That cleanliness formed a sharp contrast with the surrounding chaos of oil and grime.

He wielded that massive iron spatula—comically disproportionate to his small frame—with sweeping, aggressive motions.
Yet somehow, as if the spatula had eyes, it always narrowly avoided any disobedient heads or jostling bodies at the last second.

It looked less like he was threatening others, and more like he was terrified someone might dirty or dent his beloved kitchenware.

“Hmm? Demon Lord, is something wrong?”

Luna had noticed the strange shift in Vivian’s expression and turned her head, curiosity in her eyes.

“…That goblin—is the chef?”

Vivian withdrew her gaze and pointed toward the furious, gray figure still hopping on the stove and barking orders in his shrill voice.

“Ah, Demon Lord, you mean Gorin.”

Luna blinked, then promptly provided the name.

“Gorin calls himself the Head Chef.
His temper’s terrible—blows up faster than a berserk Fire Slime—but he’s the strongest warrior among the Shadow Goblins.
And he really, really loves cooking.
So yeah, he’s officially our head chef now.”

She tilted her head adorably and added,
“Demon Lord, you didn’t know?
Your meals each day are prepared by the Head Chef himself!
I heard he was super excited when you gave feedback on how to cook the shadow mushrooms better.”

“…I really didn’t know.”

Vivian replied with a wry smile, reaching up to massage her aching temples.

During meals, her mind was always consumed by endless military reports and rebuilding strategies.
Food, to her, had been nothing more than fuel to survive—she rarely stopped to consider its origins.

But thinking back now… the food she’d had at camp had been consistently well-made.
In fact, perfectly cooked, down to the last detail.

“Wanna go take a look?”

“No need.
Don’t interrupt his work, and don’t disturb the others while they’re eating.”

After a moment’s thought, Vivian decided to continue with her inspection rounds.

Her primary objective today was to assess the progress of the reconstruction and evaluate the effectiveness of the new measures she had issued.

With that in mind, she quickly surveyed the newly restored sectors—
Sure enough, ever since this morning’s announcement, things had started to improve.
Every assigned task was now being diligently carried out.

“…Still, there’s a mountain of work to do.”

Vivian exhaled deeply, then returned to her tent to resume her planning.

Restoring housing, planting crops, rebuilding the irrigation system—
These were only the most basic tasks.
There was still trade to resume, economic activity to spark, patrols to organize, territorial control to solidify…

There were so many things to handle, it was almost suffocating.

“But I’ll keep going.”

She gently rested her hand on her belly, feeling the growing presence of that small life within.

“Even if I can’t change the whole world…
I can at least do something.”

Another long night passed—
One spent hunched over her desk, illuminated by flickering candlelight, making plans, allocating personnel, calculating risks and projections.
But thanks to the slight encouragement gained from the progress earlier in the day, Vivian managed to close her heavy planning tomes earlier than usual, granting herself a rare moment of rest.

By the next evening, one full day and night later, Lucia had returned—bearing aid from the Winter Demon Lord.

The number of reinforcements wasn’t large—fewer than a thousand soldiers.
But each of them wore heavy frost-forged armor, said nothing unnecessary, and exuded that sharp, frigid air unique to the northern territories.

Their true value didn’t lie in numbers.

They came escorting an enormous stockpile of supplies.

Beast-drawn sleds stretched out in long lines, piled high with goods—
Thick bundles of tents, crates of sealed provisions, medical chests emitting a herbal freshness…

But what truly stunned Vivian were the few specially-guarded carts in the center of the convoy—
Each loaded with magical components glowing a faint, ghostly blue.

They were rare magitech parts—critical for rebuilding the arcane communication nodes.
With them, Evernight City could finally restore long-range contact with the outside world.

The scope of the Winter Demon Lord Catherine’s assistance was staggering.

Vivian accepted the supply manifest that Lucia offered with both hands.
The densely packed inventory, written across long sheepskin parchment, detailed staggering quantities of rare materials.

Her fingers brushed over the names of those precious magitech items—

But she couldn’t bring herself to feel happy.

“…Alright.
Let’s hear it.
What does Catherine want in return?”

Vivian couldn’t relax.
The aid was simply too generous.

She set down the manifest and looked up at Lucia with her crimson eyes.

“Lady Catherine sends her deepest regards,” Lucia began formally.
“She sympathizes with the current hardship in the Evernight Territory, and she sincerely hopes to form an unbreakable, mutually beneficial blood pact alliance with you—”

“Stop. Stop right there.”

Vivian cut her off without hesitation.
“No need for the fluff. Just name the price.”

Oh.

Lucia’s tone didn’t change.
She smoothly shifted into a formal diplomatic cadence.
But Vivian had no patience for ceremony today—she went straight for the numbers.

“Three instances of unconditional military assistance.
Full mining rights to Evernight Crystals for the entire first year after extraction resumes.
One standard warehouse of graded military equipment.”

“Your Demon Lord sure is asking a lot.”

Vivian felt her scalp tighten.
The demands were excessive.

“One time.”

She raised a single finger.

“One instance of unconditional military aid.
Once Evernight Crystal mining resumes, supply the Winter Territory at cost, using their original annual quota, over the course of five years.
As for that warehouse of weapons…
You can have it.”

Lucia’s professional facade finally cracked—just a little.

Though Catherine had granted her full authority to negotiate, she didn’t immediately haggle or use a magic scroll to confirm.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly—calculating rapidly in silence.

Then her face lit up with a bright, almost exaggerated smile.

“Ah~ Deal.”

…

Wait, what?

Damn it.

Vivian suddenly felt like she’d taken a loss.

The other party agreed so easily—
The negotiation, which should’ve been a grueling, back-and-forth battle of wits, ended just like that.

Vivian stared, wide-eyed, at Lucia’s cheerful expression.