Tia’s office.
After Yuru’s departure, the place was a complete wreck.
The backlash from several almost-cast spells had shredded the wallpaper, and shattered ornaments lay strewn across the floor.
Tia sat in her chair, unmoving, her long hair cascading down like a curtain.
The royal attendant, who had cowered in fear during Yuru’s outburst, finally staggered to his feet and slowly approached.
“Y-Your Majesty…”
“…”
“Are you… alright?”
At his hesitant question, Tia lifted her head.
Her eyes were dull, their light faded. The attendant swallowed dryly and said nothing more.
After a moment of silence—
“Send a messenger hawk to Holy Krata.”
“Pardon?”
“Inform them that Yuru is targeting the Crown Prince.”
“Y-Your Majesty!”
The attendant’s voice rose in panic.
“That will make the entire Holy Alliance mark Lady Yuru as an enemy!”
“‘Lady’?”
Tia’s cold gaze cut through him, and the attendant flinched back.
“I-I…”
“If we let Yuru act unchecked, it’ll spiral out of control.”
It hadn’t been long since the Hero was executed. If Yuru now attacked the head of the Holy Alliance, the entire Hero’s party might be labeled as conspirators.
“We have to draw the line,” Tia’s voice was firm, “If we don’t want to die together, that is.”
“…”
The attendant had no words. He stood frozen.
Tia repeated her order.
“Send the hawk.”
There was no room to object. She was right—if Yuru really attacked Krata, it would be catastrophic.
Alerting Krata in advance was the only reasonable step.
The attendant closed his eyes.
Damn it.
By all rational standards, Tia’s decision was correct.
But Yuru had once helped defeat the Demon King.
Even if things had gone south since, handing her over to the Holy Alliance still left a bitter taste.
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
It was all he could say.
The once-revered Hero’s party was no more. The Hero had been condemned and erased.
All that remained was the residue of a shattered legacy.
The attendant still found it hard to believe Clay had truly been a pawn of the Demon King, but it no longer mattered.
He bowed and left the office.
As he stepped out, he heard Tia—who had been sitting in a daze—order the nearby maids to begin cleaning the mess.
She’s changed so much.
Tia was no longer the woman she had once been. The bitter, irritable person she had become dated back to when Clay was first accused.
Maybe it was inevitable.
Under such pressure, perhaps keeping one’s sanity would’ve been the stranger outcome.
The attendant focused on his task. He finished writing the report to Krata and took it to the outer courtyard to release the hawk.
Thwip!
Suddenly, something struck the bird mid-flight. It dropped like a stone.
“What…?”
Startled, the attendant ran toward the fallen hawk.
“This is…!”
An ice spike—clearly conjured by magic—had pierced the messenger’s body.
Gulp.
As he slowly turned—
Crunch.
Someone stepped into the grass behind the hawk.
He squinted toward the shadowed figure hidden beneath the trees, trying to make out who it was.
“No need to guess.”
The figure stepped forward.
“Lady Yuru…?”
“Looks like Tia really tried to send that bird.”
The attendant’s face contorted in panic.
“I-I…”
“It’s fine. I expected this,” Yuru was calm, “Compared to what she’s done, this is nothing.”
“Lady Yuru—?”
“Sorry, but you’re not sending anything to Krata right now.”
Crack!
The sound snapped him to attention. He looked down in horror.
“H-Haaaaah!”
His feet were freezing over—solid ice climbing up from his toes.
“Lady, please—!”
“I said I wouldn’t kill you.”
Her voice remained cold.
“I know you’re just doing what Tia told you.”
Crackle…!
The ice spread to his torso. He screamed in terror.
“Lady Yura! Please, don’t—!”
“I said I know.”
She stared at him blankly.
“But still… turning me over to Krata? That stings.”
“…”
Only his right eye remained unfrozen, trembling with fear.
“Acceleration.”
Whrrrr…
Her feet glowed with magic, cracking the earth beneath her.
“Amplify.”
Again.
“Supersonic.”
Keeeeee!
The ground beneath her fractured.
She had refined her body for pure speed. Bones stronger than steel. Muscles pushed past their limit.
[Full-Body Magic Amplification.]
Stacking so many buffs on herself would destroy her body.
She didn’t care.
BOOM!
Even if it shattered her limbs, she would erase her regrets. Undo her sins. That conviction propelled her forward.
CRAAAAASH!
She vanished in a blue streak, the shockwave tearing through the courtyard.
She was gone—on her way to Holy Krata.
“…Ngh…”
Frozen in place, the attendant could only stare with fear as his eye tracked the blur vanishing into the sky.
♧
Barungenia.
Exiting the office of the Demon King, Clay walked down the vast, desolate halls in silence.
If you want, you may use what The Dark One left behind.
Beatrice had offered him something unthinkable.
If you don’t want to regret it, then commit the act you’ll regret most—without hesitation.
She had offered him the seat of the Demon King.
The choice is yours, Clay.
And then she left it at that.
No pressure. No coercion.
“Demon King…”
He muttered the title and laughed bitterly.
“So I’m walking your path now.”
All he knew of that man was secondhand.
He didn’t know what the Demon King had truly felt.
And yet, Clay had a hunch—it may not have been that different.
“…”
Would he repeat the same sins?
The title Hero Clay still clung to him like a shackle.
Squelch.
Something squished under his foot. Clay looked down.
“Kyuu….”
A green blob squirmed beneath his heel.
Startled, he lifted his foot.
The squished shape wobbled back to form—a hopping, jiggling mass.
A Slime. A low-tier monster.
“A slime?”
They were harmless. Weak.
What’s this doing in the Demon King’s Castle…?
They were omnivores—maybe kept around for waste disposal? But this one was roaming freely.
The slime bounced down the hall with purpose, like it had somewhere to go.
Without meaning to, Clay followed it.
The hallway was lined with identical doors—no signs, no clues as to what they held.
Clack.
Eventually, the slime stopped in front of one door.
It stretched its body, grabbed the handle… and opened it.
Clay, feeling oddly unsettled, stepped up and peered inside.
“…Ah.”
It was a laboratory.
Flasks, strange potions, and—seated at the far end—a woman in a white coat with a demonic appearance.
Clay let out a breath.
“A bit rude, don’t you think? For a first meeting.”
Though she hadn’t looked up from the flask before her, she clearly knew he was there.
“I assume no one told you about me.”
She slowly stood and turned toward him.
“Nice to meet you, tragic Hero shackled by restraints.”
With a flick of her finger, a vial floated up from the table.
Then she said something outrageous—calmly, confidently.
“Remember me well. I’m the woman who can make you into the next Demon King.”
(End of Chapter)