The owner of the voice addressed me, sounding exasperated.
'This world—Im Navar—is not the world you once lived in, the Earth you knew. It's a different world entirely. The gravity, the atmosphere, the planet's size—all are remarkably similar to Earth's. But the life that emerged here followed a very different evolutionary path.'
He paused, letting that sink in.
'As I said before, it was I who called you to this world. I have a small favor to ask of you.'
I must have looked alarmed, because he quickly added, 'Ah, you don't need to look so serious. Since you've been born into this world, you're a resident of it now. If you don't want to hear my request, you're free to do as you please. I'll simply continue to "watch over" you, as I always have. Of course, if you do grant my request, I'll reward you. This is only a favor, after all—not an order.'
He cleared his throat, shifting tone slightly.
'Now then, first I should explain your current situation. You've been born as one of the thirteen Demon Lords who rule this world. Ah, don't pull away from me. It's true.'
I felt my muscles tense, but he pressed on.
'The state of Im Navar is this: all thirteen Demon Lords and nearly everyone else in the world are at war with each other. All those who aren't Demon Lords or demons are constantly waging war, seeking the Demon Lords' lives. And even the Demon Lords themselves are far from friendly with one another.'
He let out a small, rueful laugh.
'Oops, I've frightened you again, haven't I? But rest assured—I'm not going to ask you to "exterminate the other races" or "raid villages and target women and children."' A pause. 'Oh dear, it seems I've only frightened you further. My apologies.'
He seemed to reconsider his approach.
'As for my request—actually, before that, I should explain where this place is.'
He gestured vaguely at our surroundings.
'This is the underground of a wilderness called the "Blood Tears of the Demon Lord"—historically, the land that has drunk the most blood. It sits exactly between the "True Continent," where humans and other races dwell, and the "Demon Continent," where demons and Demon Lords live. I want you to build a massive dungeon here.'
He tilted his head, studying me.
'Hmm? You look even more frightened now?'
I tried to steady myself, and he offered a reassuring smile.
'It'll be fine. It's true that making your home here means being targeted by both sides. But I'll grant you the power to ensure that no matter who comes for your life, you'll never lose.'
He leaned forward slightly, his tone turning earnest.
'So, that brings me to my request—I want you to put an end to the conflict between the Demon Lords and the others.'
I must have made a face, because he quickly added, 'Oops, you're making quite the grim face, aren't you? Don't worry—I'm not asking you to negotiate with the leaders of the nations or the Demon Lords themselves. I'd never make such a difficult, unreasonable, and ultimately pointless request. As I said earlier, all you need to do is build a massive dungeon here.'
He spread his hands, as if presenting a logical argument.
'I mentioned that the "Blood Tears of the Demon Lord" lies exactly between the two continents, didn't I? If you construct an impregnable dungeon here, it will create a buffer zone between the continents. The area is close to the poles, so temperatures are extremely low, and the ocean currents are too violent for sea travel. But if you go further away from here, the distance between the True Continent and Demon Continent becomes too great—avoiding those impassable currents would require a voyage on the scale of Magellan's. This world's technology isn't up to that yet.'
He squinted at me.
'What? You don't know Magellan? You're so uneducated.'
A moment of realization crossed his face.
'Ah, that's right—you don't have memories of human names and figures, do you? I suppose seeing the people here would be quite a shock. Magellan was the first person to sail around the world you used to live in.' He blinked. 'Wait—he's the guy who balanced an egg? ...You really are uneducated.'
He shook his head, moving on.
'Now then, do you understand my request? I'd love to explain the characteristics of each race and the history of why they're fighting, but that would take too long. Time is of the essence right now.'
I opened my mouth, but he anticipated my question.
'Huh? You want to know why I'm making this request?'
He exhaled slowly.
'Well... in a word—"because it's a lot of work."'
His voice grew more serious.
'With your knowledge, I think you understand how abnormal this situation is, so I'll say it plainly: in this world, people die far too often. How old do you think the average lifespan is here?'
He didn't wait for my guess.
'Thirty-two!? It's absurd, isn't it!'
His frustration bled through as he continued.
'Because of all the constant wars, the people who work in primary industries—farmers, fishers—they're starving and impoverished. Yet they're told to have children—bear and increase—to have more hands for labor. The surplus children become soldiers, and they die young. And despite all this war, medical technology is primitive. After all, they have magic.'
He froze, realization dawning.
'...Ah. I let that slip. I was planning to make it a surprise for you later...'
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish.
'Well, that healing magic is effective for injuries, but it's completely useless against disease. So many children die, and that's one reason the average lifespan is so short.'
He shrugged, returning to his more casual demeanor.
'And that's the gist of it. For me—who has to guide the souls of the departed—there's nothing more troublesome than this. I was hoping that the dungeon you build would keep both sides apart and give them a chance to cool their heads. That's what I'm asking of you.'
He looked at me expectantly.
'Do you have any questions so far?'
My question was already determined. But the answer to that question was also predetermined.
I met his gaze.
"...Are you a god?"
'Yeah.'
Summary:
The divine voice reveals the world of Im Navar and explains the protagonist's reincarnation as a Demon Lord, then pivots to request a dungeon be built as a buffer zone between warring continents. The god's frustration emerges through the revelation that the average lifespan is only thirty-two years due to endless warfare and primitive healing magic. The protagonist's lingering question about the god's identity hangs unresolved until the very end.
Trivia:
The world of Im Navar has gravity, atmosphere, and planet size nearly identical to Earth's.
Life emerged on Im Navar but followed a completely different evolutionary tree than Earth's.
The thirteen Demon Lords rule Im Navar, and nearly everyone in the world is at war with them and each other.
The wilderness called "Blood Tears of the Demon Lord" has drunk more blood than any other land in history.
The Blood Tears region sits exactly between the True Continent and the Demon Continent.
The area near the poles has extremely low temperatures and violent ocean currents making sea travel difficult.
Avoiding impassable currents requires a voyage comparable to Magellan's circumnavigation.
The god admits they let the existence of magic slip by accident.
Healing magic works perfectly for injuries but has no effect on diseases whatsoever.
The god's primary motivation for requesting a dungeon is being overwhelmed by guiding souls of the deceased.
The protagonist's internal narration reveals their question was already determined before they asked it.
The answer to the protagonist's question was also predetermined—suggesting foreknowledge or destiny.