SLAP!
Pain bloomed across my cheek like fire.
I've experienced many strange ways of waking up in my short life, but this one is different. This was new.
Wrists tied behind my back. I was kneeling on a cold stone. Oddly, my feet remained unbound.
Nice touch.
I didn't open my eyes right away. My head throbbed, and something wasn't right with the air—thick, heavy, and charged. I tried teleporting, a simple blink—
Nothing.
It felt as if I had hit a brick wall.
'Tch… Where the hell am I? The last thing I remember was being ambushed at home.'
"Wake up, human!" someone snarled, yanking me upright.
Still not looking. Still thinking. My bindings were tight, but not impossible. I was bound by rope, not by magic. Sloppy.
"Are you awake, Ren Bell?" a deep voice asked from ahead.
That name. That tone. That language.
'Was that… Narlic?'
My eyes opened slowly.
The first thing I saw was a towering, blue-skinned demon lounging on a throne the color of dried blood. He stood at a height of three meters, devoid of a shirt, possessing a breadth that could obstruct the moonlight, and possessing a physique akin to a mountain. His hair was black. His eyes were blacker. Ram-like horns curled from his skull like a crown.
'Oh. Fantastic. Demon royalty.'
Beside him stood a younger demon woman—tall, lean, and sharp-featured. Her armor was red and lightweight, molded to a model's physique. A thin sword, probably a rapier, hung at her waist. She had the same horns, same jet hair, and same unsettlingly calm eyes as the one on the throne.
"What are you staring at, human?" She barked, narrowing her eyes as a surge of killing intent slammed into me like a tidal wave.
I didn't flinch.
Instead, I looked around the throne room. Dozens of demons lined the walls, all armored, all armed. Some I recognized—faces I'd seen in battlefield footage. Elite killers. They were the heroes of the demon army.
'Shit… this is the Demon King's castle.'
"I don't think she understands us," the king said mildly, as if I weren't kneeling in front of him like a trophy.
"Humans are too dumb to understand anything but begging," his daughter snapped. "We should just kill her. For Darian."
"Dear, she doesn't speak our language. Why expect her to understand your tantrum?"
"She should at least sense my killing intent!" she said, it indignantly.
I snorted.
"Can you understand English, girl?" she growled.
I met her gaze—and answered in perfect Narlic.
"Better than you can."
Silence.
She went rigid. Every demon's eyes locked onto me. A few even shifted uneasily.
"You—" she began, reaching for her sword.
"Julia," the king cut in, casually plucking the weapon from her belt before she could draw it. "Calm down. We're here to talk."
"Talk?! She killed Darian! That murderer deserves to die!"
"She beat him. Fairly," the king said, his voice cool and final. "That's not cause for execution."
"Fair?! I bet she used some cheap—ugh!" The girl flinched as he smacked her on the head.
"Enough. Leave. You're only getting in the way."
She gritted her teeth, then stomped toward the door.
I grinned.
"Better study up on English, girly," I called after her.
"You—!"
"Julia!"
"Tch. You're lucky," she hissed, glaring at me.
"Out. "Now," the king said again, this time in a softer yet more dangerous tone.
Julia paled and bolted.
Bang!
The door slammed behind her.
"If anyone else wants to leave," the king announced lazily, "now's your chance."
My eyes narrowed.
'How does he know?'
I felt a subtle shift, as if in response to the question. The barrier—whatever blocked my teleportation earlier—weakened.
A fissure appeared in the spellwork. Or perhaps it was my own anger that broke through?
I rolled my shoulders as the ropes around my wrists went slack. The moment my hands were free, I stood—slowly, carefully.
Gasps. Swords drawn. Tension exploded across the throne room.
"You are full of surprises," the king said, amused. "Your file never mentioned Narlic fluency. Or escape artistry."
"Of course not," I replied, flexing my fingers. "I never told anyone."
He leaned forward. "So how do you think this ends, Ren Bell?"
I raised an eyebrow. "That depends. Are we negotiating, or am I being fed to the wolves?"
A voice to my left answered. "You're payment. A trade. You killed Darian Protar. In exchange, your people get peace."
I blinked.
My mind went still. Then—
'They… they sold me out?'
Laughter bubbled up in my throat, sharp and bitter.
"Wow. So that's it? You get your vengeance, and the humans get to sleep at night thinking they've saved the world?"
"This is politics, girl. Not personal."
I clenched my fists.
Something inside me snapped.
I didn't think. I moved.
With a flash of red light, I vanished—then reappeared behind the closest demon. My fingers wrapped around his throat. I squeezed.
CRACK.
The room exploded into chaos.
"She's behind us!"
"Too slow," I whispered, already gone.
Up on a pillar now, one foot resting on the demon's twitching corpse, I yanked his sword free and smiled down at them.
"Let's get started."
Teleport. Slash. Kill.
I carved through them like paper.
Steel clanged. Blood flew. I laughed—a wild, sharp sound that echoed off the stone.
"You guys call yourselves elite?! I've fought drunk ogres tougher than this!"
"Get her!"
"Get who?" I whispered into a demon's ear before slitting his throat.
Bodies hit the ground in seconds. There were screams, curses, and desperate lunges. I was everywhere.
The scene was a blur of death.
"It was too easy," I said as I hurled a body at two more, knocking them over.
Finally—silence.
The room was a graveyard.
I stood on the pillar again, hair matted with blood, still smiling.
The Demon King hadn't moved an inch.
"Enjoying the show, Your Majesty?"
"…"
"Nothing to say? Tsk. Disappointing." I vanished again.
"Enough."
BOOM.
The air exploded. A hand gripped my throat like a vise, slamming me into the far wall hard enough to crack the stone. I coughed, blood flecking my lips.
"You killed them all," he said, holding me up effortlessly. "In two minutes."
I grinned, blood in my teeth. "I killed your general, too. Thought that was a fluke?"
"You could've run. Why didn't you?"
I chuckled through the pain. "Because I wanted to do this."
With a flicker of light, I reappeared beside him—and stabbed my sword deep into his side.
He didn't flinch.
"That won't work on me," he said flatly as he yanked the blade out.
"What…?"
'Stupid. Stupid. He's the Demon King. You should've used your hands. Alternatively, you could have used your teeth. Or just run.'
I bolted for the door.
BOOM.
Too slow. He was there before me—again. One hand on my collar. He slammed me back into the ground.
"You don't leave until I say you can."
I groaned. My body ached. My pride burned hotter.
"Well," I muttered, "can't say I didn't try."
"Giving up already?"
"What else can I do?" I muttered. "My family, my country, and probably even my friends have betrayed me." All I've got left is my pride—and even that's getting stomped."
The king stared at me. "You call it betrayal. I call it peace. Your life bought the end of a war."
"Oh, please," I spat. "I saved over 100,000 lives. And how do they thank me? They send twelve SSS-ranked assassins to my home. I killed six before they took me down."
"That sounds like bragging."
"That is bragging. And they still needed twelve."
"You retired after killing Darian, right?" he asked.
"Yeah. I had one goal in joining the army. I was unable to achieve my goal. So I quit. Was planning to travel the world."
"What goal?"
A new voice cut in—cool, elegant, and female.
"Maybe you should let her tell us. Before we move on."
The Demon Queen stepped into the light. Her presence filled the room, calm but commanding.
"You must be the Queen," I said, pulling myself upright.
"I am."
I smirked, empty now.
"Sure. I'll talk. Why not? Might as well show you what the human race is really like."