The Delegation Arrives
The palace was in chaos.
For once, it wasn't Kevin's fault.
At least, not directly.
The Ironfang Dominion's delegation had been spotted miles away, and in anticipation, the entire royal staff was buzzing around like bees whose hive had been kicked. Servants scrubbed the courtyard marble until it shone. Gardeners yanked weeds like their lives depended on it (and knowing Kevin's nobles, it did). Guards polished their armor to a mirror shine, standing so stiffly that one sneezed blood after holding his breath too long.
Minister Eyebrow—who'd been promoted from "Guy Who Panics the Loudest" to "Official Minister of Foreign Affairs"—was practically vibrating with terror.
"Do you fools not realize the stakes?!" he screeched, mustache quivering like it was trying to escape his face. "The Ironfang Dominion is the most disciplined, militaristic nation in the region! They respect only strength, efficiency, and order! If His Majesty so much as scratches his armpit in front of them, they'll declare us weaklings and raze our kingdom to the ground!"
The servants turned pale. The guards whimpered.
One poor maid fainted.
Meanwhile, King Kevin sat slouched in his throne on the balcony, watching the chaos with a grape in one hand and a wine goblet in the other. His robe was half off his shoulder, his crown tilted to a forty-five-degree angle like some kind of medieval gangster hat.
"Order, huh?" Kevin yawned, tossing a grape into the air. It bounced off his nose. "Sounds boring."
"B-boring?!" Minister Eyebrow nearly had a stroke. "Majesty, please, I beg of you—compose yourself! These men will judge our entire kingdom based on your first impression! Straighten your crown! Sit up! For the love of all that is holy, stop picking your teeth with that breadstick!"
Kevin took another bite out of the breadstick.
"You worry too much. I got this."
The minister fell to his knees, muttering prayers to any god that would listen.
And then the horn blew.
A thunderous fanfare echoed through the valley as the Ironfang delegation entered. At the head of the procession was a mountain of a man: Duke Armand of Ironfang. His armor glinted so brightly it nearly blinded half the peasants, and his beard was so perfectly groomed it looked like it had been sculpted by divine hands. The Ironfang soldiers followed in flawless formation, each step synchronized to the heartbeat of the earth.
The crowd gasped in awe.
The Ironfangs were here.
The First Exchange
Duke Armand's boots slammed into the marble courtyard like thunder. He looked up at Kevin on the balcony with a scowl so intense that three servants spontaneously fainted.
"So this is the kingdom of the so-called Do-Nothing King," he rumbled. His voice carried like rolling boulders. "A land ruled by sloth and incompetence. What a farce."
The Ironfang soldiers snickered behind their gauntlets.
Kevin leaned forward on his throne, his posture so lazy he looked like he was sliding into another dimension.
"Sup."
The courtyard froze.
The Ironfang soldiers blinked.
Duke Armand squinted. "…Sup?"
"Yeah," Kevin said, scratching his chin with his breadstick. "It's short for 'what's up.' Saves time. Y'know. Efficiency."
The entire courtyard inhaled sharply. Nobles whispered in horror.
"Efficiency…?"
"Is he mocking them?!"
"Dear heavens, we're all going to die."
But Duke Armand's eyes widened. Slowly, his scowl melted into a grin.
"Efficiency," he repeated. "Of course. Why waste words? Why waste energy? Hah! Brilliant!"
Kevin blinked. "…Wait, what?"
The Ironfang delegation erupted into applause. Soldiers slammed their fists against their chests in unison.
"Brilliant! Efficient! Sup!"
The crowd of peasants stared in confusion, while the nobles looked ready to collectively faint.
Minister Eyebrow muttered, "I… I don't understand anymore…"
Kevin sipped his wine. Guess I win again?
The Feast of Confusion
That evening, the palace hosted a banquet for the Ironfang delegation. Long tables were piled high with roasted meats, golden loaves of bread, steaming bowls of stew, and enough alcohol to fuel a Viking funeral.
The Ironfang soldiers sat perfectly straight, eating with mechanical precision. Every slice of meat was identical. Every sip of wine measured. Their discipline was terrifying.
On the opposite end of the table sat Kevin.
Kevin was… not disciplined.
He was juggling bread rolls. He was drinking straight from a gravy boat. At one point, he tried to butter bread but ended up smearing it across his cheek.
The nobles buried their faces in their hands.
"This is a disaster."
"We're finished."
"The Ironfangs will gut us all before dessert."
But Duke Armand slammed his goblet down and bellowed:
"A test!"
The room froze.
Kevin blinked, bread still hanging from his mouth. "…huh?"
"Yes!" Armand roared. "He feigns clumsiness to test us! Who will notice? Who dares speak truth to power? Truly, a ruler who sees beyond appearances!"
The Ironfang soldiers nodded furiously, eyes burning with admiration.
Kevin, cheeks bulging with bread, mumbled, "Hhhmmmph?"
The delegation gasped in awe.
"He hides his wisdom behind mystery!"
"Such restraint!"
"A true philosopher-king!"
Minister Eyebrow actually fainted this time.
Laziness as Philosophy
After the feast, Duke Armand cornered Kevin in the royal garden.
"Tell me, King Kevin," Armand said, eyes blazing. "What is your secret? How do you command such loyalty with so little effort? How do you turn weakness into strength?"
Kevin scratched his stomach. "…Uh, sometimes doing nothing is better than doing something wrong?"
Armand gasped as if struck by divine revelation.
"By the gods! To master inaction… as an action!" He dropped to one knee. "You wield laziness as a blade! You conserve strength while fools waste it! You are a living embodiment of efficiency!"
Behind him, Ironfang soldiers began chanting:
"Efficiency! Efficiency! Efficiency!"
Kevin raised his wine. I can't believe this is working.
The Sword Incident
As the night wound down, Duke Armand stood and presented a magnificent sword. Its blade glowed faintly, etched with runes.
"The Sword of Ironfang," he declared proudly. "Forged in dragonfire, quenched in titan's blood. It is the pride of our kingdom. We present it as a symbol of our alliance."
The court gasped. The nobles wept. This was a priceless artifact.
Kevin stared at it blankly. "…Cool. Can I use it as a letter opener?"
The room exploded into chaos. Nobles shrieked. Servants dropped trays. Minister Eyebrow screamed like a dying goat.
But Duke Armand…
…wept.
"Genius!" he bellowed, tears streaming into his beard. "To degrade such a mighty weapon into a mere tool! You show mastery over material things! True power lies not in the weapon, but in the one who no longer needs it!"
The Ironfang delegation dropped to their knees.
"All hail the Do-Nothing King!"
Kevin raised the sword awkwardly. "Uh… thanks?"
The hall shook with cheers.
By the end of the night, treaties were signed. Trade routes were promised. Soldiers pledged mutual defense.
Kevin had accidentally secured the most powerful alliance in the region.
And all he'd done… was nap, eat, and say "sup."
Minister Eyebrow, broken, sat in a corner muttering: "This… this is impossible… laziness isn't diplomacy… this defies the laws of politics…"
Kevin yawned. "Eh. Don't overthink it."