Chapter 71: The Demon King’s Vow

“How in the world did you sustain such a grievous wound? Is this the work of Archangel Gabriel? I will not forgive those who defaced His Highness’s body, even if it means waging war against the Heavens!”

“I barely remember, but it seemed to be two humans.”

“What do you mean…”

“They summoned me and then attacked right on the spot… Yes, it was definitely two human women.”

“To think it was the act of mere mortals, I’m infuriated!”

Although the response was one of disbelief, Pereus’s expression remained grave. Gradually, a tinge of bloodlust began to shine in his eyes.

“Yes, I was violated by a mere human wench. Hah… snort… hohoho! I wonder what expression Gabriel would wear if he knew. Ah, surely those eyes burning with hate would only further inflame me.”

Licking the tip of his full lips with his tongue, Pereus spoke. His expression and tone had long since entered the stage of anti-demon sorcery.

“Demon King! Grant me permission to declare war on the surface!”

“The resurrection of the Demon King…! We will show the humans the true terror of a middle-schooler’s wrath. Hmph… chuckle…”

“In that case, we better send a dazzling pre-announcement. Don’t you agree, my minions?”

Raising one hand to cover half his face, Pereus glared fiercely. His eyes, fixed on the high ceiling, glowed with a fiery crimson intensity.

“We shall abduct the saintess… the humans’ saintess.”

“…!!”

“It is retribution for the surface.”

“Demon King, Your Highness…!!”

The demons knew full well that losing the saintess was a tremendous loss for the surface. Indeed, this was the act of their king—kidnapping the saintess was as if the Demon King himself had orchestrated it.

“Heh heh, leave it to us at any time! We are prepared to sacrifice our very lives for you!! We had grown tired of the endless tedium over the ages! And above all, the hole in Your Highness’s back must be filled with the saintess’s mighty Sacred Power…”

“Hole…?”

Pereus paused and slowly reached for the back of his head. His fingers touched the sunken, concave mark at the edge.

“Ugh!”

“Demon King, Your Highness!!”

With his eyes rolling white, the Demon King collapsed to the floor as demons gathered around him in clusters.

Time passed unnoticed as Pereus blinked his lashes and slowly opened his eyes.

“My king, are you with us? Please come to your senses!!”

“Wh-why am I lying here…? Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry! It’s a disgrace to cause such a commotion in the presence of my betters.”

As Pereus sprang up and bowed profusely, the demons exchanged looks of regret. It seemed their king had just risen, but the shock had left him momentarily incapacitated.

“Heh heh, is your body alright?”

“I must have caused you needless worry, ha ha. I’m fine, so everyone return to your posts… ha ha ha.”

“Demon King, Your Highness.”

At that moment, one of the most loyal demons knelt before him.

“We will carry out Your Highness’s orders, no matter what.”

“Ah, pardon me, but what exactly are you referring to?”

With a friendly, knowing smile, Pereus inquired. Had there been another message from the Imperial City that he wasn’t aware of? Yet the demon remained silent to the end.

Having spent a thousand years in society, Pereus knew this uneasy silence wasn’t solely due to his collapse. He longed to ask what had transpired, but one problem persisted: the demon’s name eluded his memory.

‘Surely he was from the same division. Remember, myself… was it Kur, Comba, or Rekba…?’

While he pondered internally, his face betrayed no hint of unease. Just as Pereus rummaged through his faded memories with a courteous salesman’s smile, the demon suddenly fixed him with resolute eyes.

“I swear right here and now, I, Philex, will dedicate my life to executing the orders of the Demon King!”

‘Ah, yes. Philex, Philex.’

“Ahaha, thank you for saying so. May all your wishes come true this year too, Philex. I recently landed a new post on the surface. Ha ha, although I’m wildly busy adjusting to it, my superior is quite decent…”

For the first time in ages, Pereus chatted like an old friend. His millennium of experience in the world of affairs shone forth in that moment.

* * *

Elina II awoke early in the morning. Although she still struggled with the jet lag, she knew she had to get up today.

Throwing open the window, Elina II looked down at the carriage waiting below. Just then, a short-haired knight with silvery hair was about to board.

“Lady Elina III!”

Disguised as a man, Lady Elina III—no, Edgar III—raised a finger to signal silence. Only then did Elina II cover her mouth, glance around, and lean out the window.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry. It starts at 1 o’clock, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go check it out. I must win at all costs.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Though her replies were brief as always, Elina II’s face radiated satisfaction. How could she not be grateful that Lady Elina III treated her like a true sister? With some time still before the sword contest began, Elina II shook off her drowsiness and prepared.

‘I’ve got the most surprising cheer planned!’

Recalling her history of sweeping the cheer awards at athletic events, Elina II beamed broadly.

Meanwhile, the true siblings of the Schmord family acted a bit differently.

“Hey! Lara Schmord!”

“Mmm… what’s up?”

With a loud crash as a door slammed, Lara jolted awake. Her disheveled short coral hair filled her field of vision. Lowering her eyes, she saw her brother Lawrence grimacing in his knight’s attire.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“When was I ever told to wake up?”

“You should have! Seriously, didn’t you think to tell me? Because of you, the sword contest started late. How are you going to make up for this?”

Lara could not fathom why her brother, donning a guise of a brotherly tyrant, behaved so in the morning. Nor did she care to know; even a kindergartner wouldn’t act like that.

“By the way, is the sword contest today?”

“Yeah, but don’t come to watch.”

“Why…?”

‘Lara is only supposed to admire beauty. I can’t have her seeing any bloody, violent scenes. So, promise with your brother that you won’t go, okay?’

Normally, a brother would have given a proper response like that.

“You’ll be embarrassed. Embarrassed, I tell you—if you go, you’ll be toast!”

“Even if you force me, I won’t watch!”

Irritated, Lara pulled the blanket over her head. To heck with her beloved brother uttering such words—what an infuriating, despicable brat. After a moment of muttered curses, Lara had a brilliant idea and sat up.

‘Hold on… Now that I think about it, didn’t he act differently when I disguised myself as a man?’

Maybe it was time to try being the knight Raan again. Even though he failed the promotion exam and couldn’t participate in the sword contest, being in the same order meant he could easily sneak into the Waiting Room.

Simultaneously, Lara decided to exact revenge while cheering on Lady Elina III.

Lady Elina III sat alone in the Waiting Room. Gazing at the sword’s hilt set aside on a chair, she gripped the handle tightly. The heat seemed to surge straight into her heart.

“Demon Sword.”

“Wa—Gran? …No, what’s gotten into you?”

“Keep your promise. If you win this contest, you’ll be freed from me. And I promise not to let anyone else get hurt again.”

“So confident of your victory, huh? Fine. I’ll promise.”

The Demon Sword let out a wicked laugh. If it won the contest, its worth would skyrocket. That meant it would be sold to a rich master, receiving the finest care every day. In short, it would finally catch a lucky break.

“Uhuhuh…”

Had it plotted some devious scheme? Lady Elina III furrowed her brow and, with a flash of insight, tucked the ominous blade back into its scabbard.

Knock, knock—

At the sound of a knock, Lady Elina III slung the scabbard at her waist and walked toward the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Edgar III.”

“Sir Lawrence?”

“No, Edgar III. Today, mark my words, I will defeat you.”

The moment Lady Elina III opened the door, a voice declared this challenge face-to-face. She briefly scanned the man, whose coral hair strongly resembled Lara’s, and with a dismissive air, stepped back into the Waiting Room.

“Ignoring me, are you? Hey!”

Lawrence strode in after her, grabbing her shoulder. In that instant, his body seemed to lift halfway before being flung to the floor.

“Sir Lawrence, you must not lay a hand on another’s body so carelessly.”

“…”

Staring vacantly at the disordered coral strands overhead, Lawrence swept his bangs upward and straightened his posture.

“Hey, no matter what, this is just too much—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a burly man rushed into the Waiting Room, trampling over Lawrence’s inert body. Unperturbed, the man leapt and embraced Lady Elina III.

“Lady Elina III! You must give it your all in the sword contest. We’re watching you!”

“Thank you, Creon.”

“No trouble at all. I simply said what needed saying.”

Despite his courteous tone, Creon cheekily licked around Lady Elina III’s jaw. With her signature cold indifference, she shooed him away.

“Now then, why are we here anyway?”

“His Highness came to watch the sword contest, so he followed along.”

“Then I suppose we have no choice… I’ll treat you to a snack, but you must promise to behave throughout the show.”

“Really? I promise to behave.”

Though he worried internally that uncontrolled swinging of swords might spark chaos, it seemed a simple snack was enough to settle things.