Avira had originally thought something similar.
She wanted more and more people to join her, forming her own “protagonist group,” gathering those worthy of trust together.
But as soon as the idea emerged, Avira felt a tingling numbness in her head.
“Urgh…”
She collapsed onto the table, her limbs going limp as if she’d been electrocuted.
“Lady Avira, did you come to see me this time to have me remove the thing on your head?” Molly pointed to her forehead.
It took Avira a long time to recover.
Molly was lying to her.
Even if she learned more magic, the only one who could remove the Dominator’s Seal was the Demon King herself.
Forcibly removing it would cause severe damage to Avira’s body.
Moreover, Avira didn’t like that kind of talk.
“Molly, if you don’t want to be locked up with Oleniya, don’t mention this again.”
“Okay, okay~”
“I want you to make a binding tool for me—binding straps or ropes will do, but they have to be the kind that ordinary people can’t untie.”
“I thought you came to me to escape, but it turns out you’ve been conquered by Lady Demon King after all.” Molly giggled. “But I’m the same. If you want to escape to the human side, I can help, but Avira, you can never become human again.”
“…”
Avira said nothing more. After waiting over half an hour for Molly to finish the binding ropes, she bid a casual farewell and left.
On the way back, she fiddled with the light pink ropes, and Ophitia’s image involuntarily came to mind.
“She’s going to get smug again…”
—
The next day at noon, on the cobblestone road leading to Tilves Royal Capital, several snow-white carriages sped by. The carriage wheels bore ornate decorations, and the iron-plated armor was painted with many sacred crosses symbolizing divinity. The white horses pulling them galloped tirelessly, as if their stamina would never run out.
When they stopped in front of the capital’s gates, the carriages halted. Two holy knights in white cloaks and silver armor stepped out from the carriages.
Priests and guards from the Catherine Knight Order also disembarked from plainer, cheaper carriages.
They strode arrogantly into the capital without anyone stopping them—not a single demonkin dared to. First, because these people were the Demon King’s “guests,” and second, because of their strength.
All ten Black Eagle Knights from the Catherine Knight Order were present, and Saint Knight Freyna was there as well.
They were a group of knights clad in black armor, with golden patterns inlaid on the sharp-edged plates that were worth a fortune. They didn’t converse at all, but simply walking side by side gave the impression of an army pressing in.
Freyna followed behind. She still wore her favorite light armor and leather, her hand never leaving the hilt of her sword.
This wasn’t her first time in Tilves. The last time, she had come to lecture students at the school, right when various knight orders were recruiting. She had specifically taught the academy students about knightly etiquette.
But she didn’t know if that girl who had left such a strong impression on her was still around.
The knights passed through the gates and boarded carriages prepared by the demonkin, heading to a landmark building on the edge of the Royal Palace a few streets away.
It was a small, round-platform-shaped palace. What had once been a ballroom was now the meeting site.
After dismounting, Freyna gave a look, and all the Black Eagle Knights followed her forward while the other knights stayed put.
Entering the palace, it was empty. Ophitia sat directly behind the central round table, idly swishing her tail as if she’d been waiting a long time.
For fairness, the Demon King had only a portion of demonkin guards by her side; the rest of the demonkin army secured the building from outside.
“Miss Demon King, I can call you that, right?”
The Black Eagle Knights halted. Freyna sat directly opposite the Demon King, sitting upright with her chest out—even her armor couldn’t hide her ample, slender figure.
“Mm, go ahead, Miss Saint Knight.”
“My situation was explained in the letter. I don’t demand anything from the others, but I want those three people.”
Freyna held up three fingers. “The Great Sage, Catherine, and the Saintess.”
“You’re the ones who caused trouble on my turf?” The Demon King’s laughter was teasing.
“We can offer you corresponding wealth and internationally recognized status, but please don’t make things difficult for us.”
Freyna’s face was expressionless.
“Before you make any big moves, please comply with the orders of our Saint Knight Order.”
Freyna glanced at one of her subordinates behind her. He pushed a small cart forward, its metal wheels squeaking on the expensive floor. Atop the cart was a two-meter-tall metal chest. It seemed specially designed to display its contents—jewels overflowed from it, the lid teetering as if it might tumble down the mountain of treasures at any moment.
“This is my greeting gift to the demon race. Is this enough?”
“…” Ophitia remained unmoved.
“One cart isn’t enough? Then two.”
She snapped her fingers, and a second cart of jewels was wheeled in.
A few guarding evil demons widened their eyes. Born in barren demon lairs and labyrinths, where had they ever seen so much gold and silver? Their ancestral homes’ wealth had long been stripped and destroyed by humans.
“Satisfied now?” Freyna’s smile grew smug.
Her goal on this trip was simple. She wanted to gauge the Demon King’s attitude and learn about the [S-rank] demon beasts. If the rumors were true, Freyna would ally with the humans, secretly form a small team to curb the demon race’s development in the shadows, and assassinate any S-rank threats to world peace.
If things were dire, she would report it truthfully to the War Emperor, and Tilves could be liberated within seven days.
So, the money and the “demand for people” were just smokescreens—she didn’t care about them at all.
The world needed two Golden Medal holders to maintain peace.
From the Holy Church’s perspective, however, an uncontrollable mad Great Sage and a golden-grade knight who would reappear in a century could be sacrificed. Plus, whatever benefits the demon race could bring to the Holy Church.
Most importantly, she didn’t think the Great Sage was in any real danger.
Would Catherine and Molly really be captured by riffraff like that?
But right after Catherine’s name was mentioned, Ophitia smirked wickedly:
“I refuse your proposal. I think you’ve misunderstood something. Do you think the demon race fears the Holy Church, or that we’ll easily release those who ran wild in our territory?”
“Your Holy Church’s sincerity is lacking. If that’s all, please leave.”
For some reason, Freyna broke out in a cold sweat.
She was often teased for being overly cautious, and though she’d reined in her wild thoughts this time, she couldn’t stop herself from pondering the Saintess again.
A few days ago, after learning about the S-rank demon beast, she saw footage of it evolving, sprouting pitch-black wings like a sinister fallen angel—and it reminded her of Avira.
Saintess Avira also had long silver hair.
Given Demon King Ophitia’s personality, even a refusal wouldn’t be this direct. Especially in front of ten Black Eagle Knights under Catherine.
—If Saintess Avira was the S-rank demon beast, then the Demon King’s reaction made perfect sense.
