The Imperial soldiers poured into the gates of the Demon King City, which symbolized glory and conquest, like a burst dam.
The scene within the city, however, was starkly different from the macabre horror they had imagined.
There was no expected tide of monsters resisting them, no pungent sulfur or blood; instead, a weird silence took its place.
Flanking the wide streets were obsidian buildings, unique in style yet devoid of life, Tall pillars cast cold shadows, like pairs of silent eyes watching these uninvited guests.
“What’s going on? Are the monsters all hiding?”
One soldier gripped his longsword tightly, looking around warily.
“Scared! They must have had their guts shattered by the divine might of our Imperial Army!”
Another soldier appeared exceptionally excited, waving his weapon, “The female Demon King must be shivering in some corner! Brothers, find her and capture her alive! Riches and honor are right before our eyes!”
Greed and the joy of victory crushed their remaining reason.
They howled and split into several groups, Heading deep along different streets, desperate to find the treasures of the Demon King City and that legendary, Peerless-ly beautiful female Demon King.
However, they did not notice that as they went deeper, the city gates behind them closed slowly and silently; the heavy obsidian stone doors made a dull thud, cutting off their retreat.
In the shadows of the buildings on both sides of the street, faint glimmers began to emerge—countless pairs of cold, hungry eyes hidden in the darkness.
Deep within the palace, the heart of the Demon King City.
This place was not filled with the evil and chaos one would imagine of the Demon King’s Palace; instead, it was like a tranquil garden.
Moonlight spilled through massive stained-glass windows, reflecting on the soft carpeted floor, while the faint scent of flowers permeated the air.
The female Demon King Isayate reclined on a luxurious chaise lounge covered in snow-white fur.
She wore a daringly cut black dress that revealed her elegant collarbones and a pair of fair, slender jade legs.
Her long golden hair fell like a waterfall, making her exquisite face look as if carved from ice and snow, yet carrying a hint of lazy charm.
She toyed with a cup of bright red liquid, a trace of a faint smile on her lips, watching the Imperial soldiers scurrying about like headless flies through a Water Mirror made of magic.
“Truly… a boring performance.”
Isayate opened her vermilion lips slightly, her voice cold yet pleasant, carrying an unquestionable majesty, “They were let in so easily without even a bit of capable resistance; won’t it make me, the Demon King, seem too useless?”
Her gaze turned to a figure standing by her side.
It was a girl dressed in a maid uniform.
The girl had dazzling long black hair tied casually behind her head, revealing a smooth forehead and a face that was once full of sunshine and determination.
Now, however, her eyes were hollow and dazed, like an exquisite doll that had lost its soul.
The maid uniform, which should have symbolized purity and docility, carried an indescribable sense of sadness and incongruity when worn by her.
Her hands were folded in front of her, and she bowed her head slightly, quietly waiting for orders.
“Sia.”
Isayate’s voice softened slightly but carried an irresistible magic as it reached Ling Sia’s ears.
“…Yes, Master.”
A micro-oscillation seemed to flash through Ling Sia’s hollow eyes, but it quickly returned to dead silence.
She performed a slight curtsy and responded respectfully.
Isayate sat up straight, her gaze shifting from the Water Mirror to Ling Sia, the smile on her lips deepening:
“Those noisy bugs outside, did you hear them? They are disturbing my peace.”
“…I heard them, Master.”
“They are very noisy, aren’t they?”
Isayate reached out her finger, gently hooking Ling Sia’s chin and forcing her to lift her head to look directly into her eyes,
“They want to ‘capture’ me alive, and even want to defile this castle… Tell me, how should we punish these intruders who don’t know the height of the heavens or the depth of the earth?”
Ling Sia’s body trembled slightly.
When the words “capture alive” reached her ears, something seemed to struggle deep within her hollow eyes—fragments of memories belonging to a Hero—
Days of fighting side-by-side with comrades, oaths to protect the innocent, promises to the people of the Empire… the Imperial soldiers, Though blindly following and driven by ambition, might have included people who, like her, once picked up weapons to protect something.
A flicker of pain and hesitation, like a weak flame, flashed through her heart and vanished.
“…Master…”
She opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but a hint of coldness flashing in Isayate’s eyes caused all her words to stick in her throat.
“Hmm?”
Isayate applied slight pressure with her finger, though her tone remained gentle, “Sia, have you forgotten your identity? You are my maid; your duty is to obey my commands, is it not?”
“…Yes, Master.”
Ling Sia’s head hung even lower, her voice carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling.
That hesitation that had just ignited was extinguished like ice water being poured over it, quickly settling into silence.
Her eyes became hollow once more, leaving only absolute obedience.
“Very good.”
Isayate smiled with satisfaction, released her finger, and pointed at the Imperial soldiers still reveling in the Water Mirror:
“Go, clean them all… up. Do not leave a single survivor. Remember, be quick; do not let their miserable screams disturb my tranquility.”
“…As you command, Master.”
Ling Sia’s voice was as calm as a surface without a single ripple.
She slowly turned around and walked out of the palace.
As she moved, a powerful fluctuation of mana emanated from her body—power belonging to a Hero, yet carrying the coldness and darkness of a monster.
In her hand, the Holy Sword was gone, replaced by a Black Short Blade emitting a faint glow and engraved with small red snakes; it was the weapon Isayate had bestowed upon her.
Stepping out of the palace, the cold moonlight fell upon her, stretching her shadow very, very long.
On the streets, the Imperial soldiers were still searching frantically.
A squad had just broken into a room that looked like a treasury, letting out excited screams at the mountains of gold coins and jewelry inside.
“Haha! We’re rich! So much gold!”
“And gems! This ruby is worth at least ten thousand gold coins!”
“Hurry, pack it! Pack it all!”
Just as they were greedily stuffing riches into their pockets, a cold voice rang out behind them.
“You… are being too noisy for Master.”
The soldiers were startled and turned around abruptly.
They saw a black-haired girl in a maid outfit standing quietly at the door, blocking their path.
There was no expression on the girl’s face, her eyes were hollow, and she held a Black Short Blade shimmering with cold light.
“Where did this little brat come from? Dressed so strangely!”
One soldier leered at Ling Sia, “She actually looks quite good, pity about the stoic face. Scram! Don’t block my way to fortune!”
Another soldier chimed in: “Look at her delicate skin; maybe she’s the Demon King’s servant or something. Catch her! Make her lead us to the female Demon King!”
The two soldiers grinned maliciously and charged forward, waving their swords.
Ling Sia’s body shifted slightly, dodging the first soldier’s slash like a phantom.
Amidst the other’s stunned gaze, the Black Short Blade in her hand traced a cold arc.
“Puchi!”
The sound of the sharp blade cutting through flesh was clearly audible.
The soldier didn’t even see how she moved, Only felt a chill at his neck, followed by a surge of warm liquid, His vision blurred rapidly, and the last thing he saw were the girl’s hollow, soulless eyes.
“Ah!”
The other soldier was scared out of his wits and turned to run.
Ling Sia pushed off with her toes, her figure like lightning as she caught up to him instantly.
The short blade fell again, accurately piercing the back of his heart.
As the cold blade slit the throat of the last soldier, Ling Sia didn’t even look down at the slowly collapsing body, not even for a barely perceptible pause.
Her eyes were as calm as a waveless pool, as if she had just brushed away a trivial speck of dust rather than stripping away a living life.
She was like a killing machine that had been precisely tuned, with every joint and every breath serving the sole directive of “clearing”
This unique command—from Isayate.
Those Imperial soldiers who dared to intrude into the sacred domain of the Demon King City were, in her eyes, nothing more than noisy and eyesore “bugs.”
Shrill screams and death rattles, like an ignited powder keg, Suddenly exploded within the once dead-silent Demon King City; one after another, they wove into a death symphony of despair and chaos.
However, this chaotic movement did not seem to interfere with Ling Sia’s rhythm in the slightest.
At the ruins of the Northwest Arrow Tower, the Imperial archer squad that had just seized the high ground was smugly drawing their bows and nocking arrows, aiming at the streets below.
The joy of victory still lingered on their faces, yet they had no inkling that the shadow of death had already quietly enveloped them.
Ling Sia’s figure appeared behind them silently, like a phantom blending into the darkness.
There was no warning, only two cold flashes that suddenly passed.
The short blade in her hand seemed to take on a life of its own, lightly flipping and jumping; every precise rise and fall, Was accompanied by a suppressed groan or a stifled gasp.
In an instant, the tower top that had been full of vitality moments ago fell into a dead silence as warm blood gurgled out, Winding down the rough stone walls and staining the mottled ramparts, like a cruel oil painting splashed in haste.
At the remains of the residential houses to the southeast, a squad of infantry carrying heavy scaling ladders was laboring to set them up against a relatively intact building.
They were panting, veins bulging on their foreheads, completely defenseless against the impending raid, even encouraging each other with dreams of rewards after conquering the Demon King City.
Just as they were about to successfully stabilize the ladder, Ling Sia, like a shadow emerging from the ground, suddenly leapt out from the darkness of a nearby broken wall.
Her movements were as swift as a leopard, yet her power was as violent as a lion or tiger.
There were no redundant attacks, only sharp kicks carrying the sound of breaking air.
“Bang!” “Crack!”
The dull sound of impact and the crisp snap of shattering bones intertwined.
The soldiers carrying the ladder didn’t even have time to cry out before they were kicked down like broken kites, falling from several meters high, They crashed heavily onto the hard stone ground, instantly shattering into pieces as brain matter and blood mixed with ruptured internal organs, spreading a nauseating pattern across the floor.
In the center of the street, several Imperial mages clad in robes were huddled together, flusteredly chanting attack spells.
They faces were full of panic and anger, trying to use magic to stop this sudden “monster.”
Obscure incantations were spat out intermittently from their mouths, and the air began to fill with weak elemental fluctuations.
However, their chanting was destined to remain incomplete.
Ling Sia’s speed far exceeded their imagination, so fast that their magical perception could not even capture her.
She was like a bolt of black lightning, ignoring those magic shields that had yet to take shape, rushing directly into the center of the mages’ formation.
She did not use any complex techniques, relying solely on pure strength beyond mortal limits and suffocating speed, With a swift elbow strike, she crushed one mage’s ribs, and with a clean knee strike, she shattered another mage’s jaw.
The unfinished spells turned into blurred blood foam in their throats; those fragile casters didn’t even have time to take a defensive stance, Before they were ruthlessly interrupted and their lives ended by absolute power and speed.
The magic they were so proud of was as fragile as paper before Ling Sia.