(no subject)

[toothycat]

Original here.

"My lord, I have found it!"
"Found what?", the Dark Overlord asked without interrupting his work.
"The Sword of Light! The very one that you are vulnerable to."
"Oh, that... Here, put it on that shelf over there."
The hunchbacked dwarf stuffed the package on the shelf and settled at the feet of his master.
"Tomorrow is the night of the Great Conjunction", he remarked with fake nonchalance.
"So what?", the Dark Overlord shrugged indifferently.
"The sacrifice, my lord", the dwarf reminded. "We still need to find a virgin."
"We don't need to find anyone." The Dark Overlord dismissed the dwarf's words with a wave and added a freshly peeled potato to the pile.
"But the ritual..."
"There will be no ritual!" The Dark Overlord frowned fiercely. "It's about time you got used to things."
The dwarf glowered.
"My lord! You've been living in this wilderness for six months now! You breed geese and grow cabbage! All the while, you could have been ruling this world by force! Where are your Legions of Death? Where are your hordes of devoted servants? Palaces, dungeons, rows and rows of gallows - where are they all? Great conquests, terrible deeds - all is lost. Look, Good and Light triumph everywhere, and even children are not afraid to walk in the streets at night. How can you bear it, my lord?"
"I have already explained many times," the Dark Overlord replied. "Good always triumphs, and Evil is always defeated. There is no point starting a hopeless quest, wasting strength and resources, if there is not the slightest chance of victory. And, you know, I like winning. And only winning!"
"But how, my lord? While you rot away here unknown, the Light gathers strength..."
"Precisely!", the Dark Overlord lifted a finger. "Gathers strength. But what is it going to do with this strength? What will it apply it to?"
He picked up a fresh potato and began unhurriedly to peel it.
"What will Good do when it discovers it has no-one to fight? Here I am, living quietly, not complaining, not showing myself in any way. And the others - they're just small fry, any hero of the light could defeat them with one tooth. And what then? The monsters end, but the teeth remain. And not just one, but all thirty-two. Who will be bitten then?"
The peeled potato dropped into the pot. The Dark Overlord picked up an onion and began to slice it finely.
"Another three or four months and Good will begin to go mad from boredom. The knights of the Light will return to their lands and begin to manage them. And far from everyone is good at that. There will be territorial disputes and petty grudges, infighting and raised taxes. The priests will once more remember their monasteries, gather for debates, argue until they are hoarse and at each others' throats, until they split into different schools and sects; this has happened many times. I won't even mention the mages. Elves, humans and gnomes will remember their old differences, stir up old problems and create many new ones. The soldiers, whose only trade is fighting, will soon be forced to turn to robbery in droves. The rogues... well, they always were personages without shame or guilt. And the struggle for power? Look at the strife around the throne even now. And all this, mark, without any interference from me! Entirely due to the peculiarities of human nature... Can you remember, have I salted the soup yet?"
"While I've been here - no."
The Dark Overlord threw some salt into his brew, tried a little, and added some more salt.
"The ability to rule and the ability to rise to power are two completely different skills. It is very rare for them to occur together. Thus, it is most likely that in the end it will be some grasping and conniving type that will rise to the top, one who between bribes, extortion and direct threats is able to keep all the others in submission. And his primary concern will be his own well-being - otherwise he simply could not have risen so far. And then..."
He fell silent and smiled dreamily, stirring the soup all the while.
"What then?", the dwarf finally asked.
"Oh, nothing. Then I'll wait another three or four years, until complete ruin comes and the people cannot tolerate it any more. Then I will pick up the Sword of Light, mount our chestnut stallion, if he hasn't died by then, and ride across the country, doing heroic deeds right and left. Right up to the triumphant victory. Because" - he allowed himself a brief, gleeful grin - "Good always triumphs."