She would retrieve the head and regain her true body.
Her power would be reforged like a volcano.
Then, she would go find the Queen of Demons.
The Queen of Demons was also looking for her.
She would kill the Queen of Demons and hang her head on the throne.
The Four Gods of Heaven Above would surely cast favorable glances upon her.
She would once again bathe in the great blessings of the Four Gods of Heaven Above and continue her Ascension to gain supreme power.
At that time, she would be able to be crowned king, return to her cold and familiar dining hall, and sleep soundly.
She would live her old life, a happy daily life without the Queen of Demons.
How wonderful that would be: wake up, train, kill, sleep.
Day after day, as regular as what humans called “going to work.”
Only, their work was producing goods, while her work was manufacturing corpses—a more efficient form of resource recycling.
See, what a regular, healthy, and fulfilling life for a Demon King.
This was her future.
Not sharing a campfire and dried rations with a vicious dog, and then listening to the thoughts of his virgin heart.
Sovinia quietly exhaled, dispersing those impractical tactical conceptions from her mind.
She propped her chin on her hand and looked at the sleeping figure beside the campfire.
Wohard was lying on his side, covered only by a thin blanket.
His sturdy chest and shoulders were exposed.
The wounds had scabbed over, and some scabs had even fallen off.
He was sleeping deeply, breathing steady and long.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile hung on the corner of his mouth.
Who knew what sweet dream he was having?
He curled up there completely defenseless, without his armor, like a large dog showing its belly.
‘Such pathetic trust.’
A cold sneer curled at the corner of Sovinia’s mouth.
This vicious dog actually dared to sleep so soundly—as if dead—in front of an “Elven Princess” he had only just met.
Didn’t he know that in a place like the Demon Castle, the most fatal danger often came from behind?
But that was fine.
The more foolish he was, the easier her plan would succeed.
Two days later, when the poison took effect and he discovered a sword thrust through his chest from behind, perhaps he would learn this precious lesson.
It was just a pity he wouldn’t have a chance to review it.
Just then, Sovinia’s nose twitched slightly.
In the air drifted an extremely faint fragrance.
Others might ignore it, but Sovinia would not.
She inhaled, identifying the scent.
It was a cloyingly sweet smell, like ripe peaches mixed with nectar, laced with a hint of musky, restless aroma.
Her eyes instantly sharpened.
As a former demon Heavenly King, she was all too familiar with this smell.
It was the pheromone scent of a Succubus.
And a high-level one at that.
Something was nearby.
Or rather, it had already been observing them from the shadows.
Sovinia’s mental alarm bells rang.
She remained still, maintaining her night watch posture.
If a fight could be avoided, it should be avoided.
This was “weapon maintenance time.”
Waking the stupid dog weapon while he slept soundly would be bad.
What to do?
Just tell the other party outright that she was strong.
Sovinia said, “Honestly… making me keep watch while the Hero sleeps like a dead pig…”
She paused, then continued, “But I suppose it’s fine… Fortunately, the Hero still has a ‘Holy Slash’ left unused. I heard that with one Holy Slash, he can make even the Queen of Demons retreat. If something does burst in, it should count as a decent trump card…”
The room fell silent again.
The cloying fragrance still lingered.
Sovinia began to get irritated.
She had made herself so clear.
Why wasn’t the other party leaving?
‘I really miss the old days. If this were the old me, I would have just grabbed my greatsword and shouted, ‘Blood God, aid me!’ One casual swing would have scared everyone off.’
She didn’t know how long passed.
The cloying fragrance was slowly, thread by thread, withdrawing from the air, growing fainter and fainter.
After a long time, when the last trace of that anomalous scent had completely disappeared into the smells of smoke and blood, Sovinia finally let out a quiet breath in her heart.
‘A correct gamble.’
“Holy Slash” was Wohard’s signature ability.
Its power was enormous, with a lethal suppression effect against demonkind.
Any demon with a shred of sense would not want to face a Holy Slash head-on without full preparation.
The long night stretched on.
Sovinia kept watch for over six hours.
She woke Wohard and helped him put on his plate armor before sinking into a deep sleep.
Wohard took over the watch duty.
Sovinia almost immediately curled into the blanket, falling asleep, mingling with Wohard’s body heat.
In the storage room, the dying embers of the campfire flickered.
Wohard sat by the fire, his back against the cold stone wall, but his gaze involuntarily fell on that slender figure.
She slept restlessly, shivering as she curled up in the blanket, only her silver head visible.
Her fishtail braid had been undone before sleep, and her silver hair spread out like melted moonlight.
The blanket he had slept in was too big for her, loosely wrapping around her delicate body.
She turned over, and a corner of the blanket slipped off, revealing her shoulder.
Her shoulder was so narrow, Wohard thought, his palm could probably cover it entirely.
Sovinia had taken off her shoes before sleeping.
Her long knee-high boots were neatly arranged beside her.
From under the blanket’s edge peeked a small section of her slender, smooth calf.
He remembered that during the battle, those boots hugging her thighs could erupt with considerable force, allowing her to dodge behind him in one step.
But at this moment, the exposed section of her calf seemed especially slender, its lines soft, showing no trace of muscle, as if it could be crushed with a light squeeze.
Just then, he heard a faint sob.
“No… don’t…”
He looked over.
Sovinia’s delicate cherry lips were moving.
Her body trembled slightly under the blanket, like a frightened little animal.
“…Lord Demon King… please… I… I won’t dare again…” she said.
“…the Rules… those two rules… …don’t… Dark Embrace… don’t let it sink… I’ll lose… I’ll lose…”
Her fingers clutched the blanket tightly.
“…Please, Lord Demon King… don’t humiliate me with the Ultimate Humiliation anymore…”
Wohard was silent.
Pity grew in his heart.
Sovinia was having a nightmare.
She dreamed of the Queen of Demons, standing right in front of her.
“Kimi,” the Queen of Demons’ voice echoed directly in her soul.
“My First Heavenly King, did you think that by changing your skin, I wouldn’t recognize you?
Now that I’ve recognized you, it’s simple.
I’ve activated the two Rules of Enslavement… Now you have no chance of winning.”
“No, no! Infinite Change Cards, activate! First turn, draw! Second turn, third turn… fifth turn. No, impossible! How did it sink to the bottom again…”
Sovinia realized with horror that no matter how she drew, that core card would not come to her hand.
“Oh? Bad luck, Kimi. The core card sank to the bottom again, huh? You’re always that unlucky when facing me.”
The Queen of Demons laughed with delight.
“I told you, I’ve always looked forward to you performing the Goblin Ultimate Humiliation Assembly for me.”
The laughter turned into the obscene howls of countless Goblins.
They surged from all directions.
Green skin, greedy eyes, claws reaching for her…
“No!”
Sovinia woke abruptly from her nightmare.
Gasping for breath, she was drenched in cold sweat, her heart pounding wildly.
She instinctively touched her chest.
Neither big nor small.
Good.
She wasn’t the male protagonist of the “Goblin Ultimate Humiliation Assembly.”
“Miss Sovinia?”
Wohard asked.
“Are you all right? You had a nightmare.”
Sovinia finally collected herself.
Seeing Wohard, she quickly regained her usual calm.
Wiping the cold sweat from her forehead, she asked:
“I… did I say anything just now?”
“No, nothing at all.”
Wohard shook his head immediately, his tone firm.
Sovinia looked into his eyes.
She didn’t think he was lying, so she breathed a sigh of relief.
She felt her will was strong, more steadfast than a certain Hero’s.
She hadn’t been weak enough to cry out in her dream.
She said, “I didn’t, actually. But you, Hero, you were talking in your sleep all night.”
“Me?”
Wohard was stunned.
“Yes,” Sovinia said, arms crossed, looking like she had heard everything clearly.
“You kept calling out your teammates’ names and saying… this assassination failed, and it was all your fault.”
Wohard’s expression darkened.
He was silent for a moment before admitting bitterly, “…Yes. That hit me hard. But…”
He lifted his head, his blue-grey eyes fixed on Sovinia.
“But now, I have a new goal.”
“Oh.”
Sovinia responded flatly.
She had no interest in what the short-lived stupid dog’s new goal was, as long as it didn’t delay her from retrieving her head and then getting his gold coins.
The two fell silent.
Sovinia made breakfast.
Wohard finished it in one go.
They started packing to leave.
Wohard put on his battered plate armor, and Sovinia came over to help, taking the chance to check his injuries.
His fractured bones had healed overnight.
The scabs on many wounds had fallen off, revealing new flesh.
The stitches from the sutures had become “obstacles” instead.
Sovinia pulled out the stitches, looking at Wohard’s body that was more than half healed.
She felt an inexplicable sense of satisfaction.
Then she helped Wohard into his battered full plate armor.
While pulling the shoulder strap of his breastplate tight, Sovinia spoke:
“Oh, by the way, when I was on watch last night, I smelled something.”
“What smell?”
“The scent of a high-level Succubus.”
She reported briefly.
“Very cloying, like a ripe peach. It must have been observing us from the shadows. I used your ‘Holy Slash’ reputation to scare it away.”
Wohard tightened his somewhat loose breastplate.
“A Succubus? That kind of evil demon that only exposes its chest and lewd body to tempt sentient beings and then drain their life force?”
“That’s the method of a low-level Succubus.”
Sovinia said.
“High-level Succubi are far more terrifying than you think. Their methods are more sophisticated.”
Wohard said, “It’s fine. When I was assassinating the Queen of Demons, I faced the Heavenly King of Succubi. She wasn’t scary.”
“Did she die?”
“Probably not. I think she escaped.”
“What a pity.”
The two finished packing and headed for the main door.
“Wait.”
Sovinia pointed to a doghole in the corner.
“That thing likely set a trap at the door. For safety, we’d better take the doghole.”
“Would it? Don’t Succubi use seduction?”
“That doesn’t stop them from setting traps.”
Sovinia continued pointing at the doghole.
Wohard followed her finger and looked at the doghole.
He would need to crawl on hands and knees to get through.
Dignity versus safety.
As a knight, a Hero who had sworn to protect a princess, how could he lead a noble lady to crawl through a doghole?
“No. How can a knight crawl through a doghole?”
He refused categorically.
“We’ll take the main door. I’ll scout ahead. No trap will hurt you.”
‘Stupid knightly spirit.’
But Sovinia didn’t argue.
Anyway, the stupid dog was going to die tomorrow.
A little more exertion wouldn’t hurt.
Wohard walked out the door.
No traps.
Sovinia poked her head out and looked around.
She was about to step out when Wohard said, “Where’s your helmet?”
“I forgot.”
Sovinia put that ugly, smelly helmet on her head, her mood dampening.
She stepped outside.
The cold wind blew through the corridors of the Demon Castle ruins, carrying the roars of distant monsters and the clashing of weapons.
The fiery promotion movement was still ongoing.
Sovinia sensed the location of her male body head.
It felt closer than yesterday, which made her quite anxious.
A head doesn’t have legs.
Its movement meant someone had already discovered it.
They were likely fighting over it.
Time was running out.