Chapter 70: A Fateful Awakening

While Lara remained frozen, Ferreus lowered his eyes seductively, like a snake eyeing its prey.

“Human wench, how dare you wake me.”

His jaw dropped. Considering his reputation for always putting the customer first with polite and sincere service, this unexpected act was quite surprising. Perhaps he was now aiming to impress customers with an overly dramatic charm.

“Mr. Ferreus, it’s me. Don’t you remember?”

“If I consider the thousand years I’ve slept, there’s no way any human who remembers me could still be alive… Wench, who exactly are you?”

‘A thousand years of pleasure?’

Lara flinched in a different way, retracting her dropped jaw and stepping back. But before she could escape, Ferreus advanced with long strides and grabbed her wrist. His vice-like grip nearly snapped her delicate wrist.

“…Ouch, that hurts.”

“Human wench, look at me. Who on earth are you?”

“I’m Lara Schmord. Don’t you remember at all…?”

“This face… it seems oddly familiar.”

Ferreus began scrutinizing Lara’s face with unyielding eyes. His gaze shifted gradually from a red hue to a murky purple, and then turned pitch black. As if something had come to mind, his expression relaxed into an amused openness.

“I see… during the First Chaos War on earth, bridging Heaven and the Demon Realm, I was struck down by an ambush from that archangel and fell from the heavens, only to be healed by a human wench…”

“No.”

“Ah, now I remember. The human wench who, without fear, set foot in the Demon King’s castle after being swept into the Demon Realm…”

“No.”

“A mysterious wench indeed. But not a bad one.”

With a sly smirk, Ferreus swiftly pulled Lara into his embrace. Their proximity became so unnervingly close that it seemed their noses might brush.

“Quench my thirst that has starved for ages.”

With eyes as dark as pitch and a sinister glint, Ferreus slowly lowered his head.

Lara held her breath. After a thousand years of sleep, surely her mouth would be sweet. Her decadent, red lips now resembled a biochemical arsenal.

It was too late to retreat. The moment Lara shut her eyes, Ferreus deftly twisted her wrist and threw her onto the bed. Hovering above her prone form, he slowly licked his lower lip while a tantalizing streak of red flashed across his shadowed eyes.

After glancing at Lara’s trembling shoulder, Ferreus softened his tone.

“You’re trembling, human wench. Surrender your body to me and I’ll gift you pleasures unlike any on earth.”

“You beast! Get off her right now!”

Monica, armed with a frying pan from the kitchen, charged at Ferreus. Before he could even leave the bed, the edge of the pan struck him squarely on the back of his head.

Lara, having jumped off the collapsing demon’s body from the bed, cowered on the floor, quivering uncontrollably.

“Miss, are you alright?!”

“Monica… isn’t this dangerous?”

“Good heavens! Who knew the Ouija Board was such a perilous game?”

“No, you’re the most dangerous one.”

Lara stared helplessly at the man sprawled on the bed. His long, unruly black hair was streaked with green blood that soaked the sheets. He already appeared beyond hope.

Lara and Monica exchanged worried glances. Finally, as if having firm resolved, Monica shoved the bloodstained frying pan under the bed. Then she tugged Ferreus’s ankle to drag him down and similarly concealed him under the bed, covering him with sheets.

“Hide these with the others and no one will ever know.”

“Hey, Monica…? Why are you hiding him under my bed?”

Lara tried persuading Monica to hide him elsewhere. As Monica paced the room deep in thought, she clapped her hands firmly before speaking.

“Miss, let’s fabricate an alibi!”

“An alibi?”

“Just trust me and bring out the Ouija Board again.”

Following Monica’s plan, the two quickly set to work. While Lara reassembled the Ouija Board, Monica lit three candles in the center of the room. In no time, everything was ready.

“Shall we begin, Miss?”

“Will it work? I’m anxious, Monica.”

“You must steel yourself.”

“Alright, I understand…”

The two solemn women sat facing each other as they began the Ouija Board session. After about five minutes of moving the pointer and asking questions, one of the candles flickered abruptly.

“Can you come here now?”

[Yes]

As the pointer tipped completely toward [Yes], Lara and Monica quickly exited the room. A wild gust of wind roared as a jet-black silhouette emerged amid the extinguished candles.

“The one who summoned me… *cackle* Who is it?”

Cloaked in tattered fabric and wielding a sickle, an evil spirit prowled about, searching for its summoner. Dark, venomous saliva dripped from its lips as it wandered. Suddenly, something clung to its foot. Bowing its head, it felt something wet and cold at its toes, although the darkness concealed what it was.

“Cackle… what is this…?”

After reigniting one of the extinguished candles and checking below, the spirit dropped its sickle onto a pool of congealed green blood on the floor. There wasn’t even time to investigate before its legs gave out.

“…Huh, gasp… scream!”

The body of a black-haired demon, now a cold, lifeless corpse, lay before it. The spirit slumped, trembling violently, then attempted to flee—but a massive silhouette blocked its path.

“We’ve reported it through the Ouija Board.”

“W-who are you…?”

“I’m a demon detective. And what’s that you’re hiding behind you… wait, that’s a corpse! Arrest him!”

The demon detective’s subordinates leaped into action, capturing the spirit. Although it protested that it hadn’t truly killed anyone and cried injustice, all evidence—from the secluded room to the victim’s blood on the murder weapon—pointed to the spirit as the prime culprit.

For three grueling days, the demon detective tirelessly gathered evidence from the crime scene, darting around day and night to unmask the true offender. He even searched the mansion for potential witnesses.

“This is the Demon Police Station. Please cooperate. What was your relationship with the victim, Ferreus Shuran Exaios?”

“We exchanged messages through the Ouija Board with our Miss.”

“What were you doing on the night of the attack three days ago?”

“I was in the kitchen cooking with our Miss. The other handmaidens can attest—we were all there together. Besides, what do you mean by ‘victim’…?”

“In case you haven’t heard, Ferreus Shuran Exaios was killed during a thug attack.”

“Oh my, dear! That faithful friend… How harsh God can be. The world is so grim.”

“Thank you for your cooperation. Please keep your doors locked and all you human ladies be cautious.”

“Alright, take care.”

Monica saw him off and closed the door. Watching from a distance, Lara began to feel a growing unease toward Monica.

Ferreus Shuran Exaios awoke to darkness. He found himself lying on a narrow, hard surface, with a pulsating pain shooting through the back of his head.

Why did it hurt so much? Lost in thought, he recalled the one who had struck him, though the memory was as hazy as a foggy mirage. Then a faint, weeping voice reached his ears.

“Oh dear—oh dear—our Demon King! How could this be?!”

“Our Demon King, just a thousand years old… Who would have thought he’d fall at such a blossoming age. Sob, sob.”

“Demon King… please rest in peace… oh dear, oh dear.”

Amid a chorus of mourning cries, Ferreus hoisted the roof covering his body with both arms. Dust sparkled like falling snow in the light as the coffin lid was lifted, revealing a long, imposing silhouette that filled the vast Demon King Castle, leaving all demons breathless.

“Th-th—the Demon King has… resurrected!”

One demon cried out in a voice that nearly choked him.

Ferreus stood with a furrowed brow while a demon rushed over to support him.

“Demon King, are you alright?”

“Hmph, I’m not in the worst shape, actually. In fact, I can feel something surging beneath this cold skin. My blood, my life force, my heart, and pulse—everything is alive…”

“Indeed… it appears you’ve fully awakened.”

With a dramatic flourish that exuded an arrogant intensity, all the demons knelt in admiration. Ferreus simply tilted his chiseled chin upward, his defiant glare oozing arrogance.

“After waging war against Heaven and sleeping for a thousand years, is this what I now face?”

“Indeed.”

“And what of Heaven’s movements during your slumber?”

“Had there been any, we would have awakened you first—referring only to the soul dormant within you.”

It wasn’t the Demon King’s body that slept for a thousand years, but the soul hidden within. Even Ferreus, who had faithfully served in the Demon King Castle all this time, was indeed the Demon King, although calling him the true Demon King might be a stretch.

The Demon King was a being with an unyielding soul, impervious to shame. A formidable presence that defied any resistance—a powerful, brooding essence at its core.

“Using this body after so long is exhausting. But it seems the body still remembers its owner, huh… *chuckle*.”