Before listening to Wohard’s inner voice.
Sovinia had several guesses—she suspected Wohard might be picking apart the flaws in her lies, perhaps uncovering something, evaluating her strength and the risks she posed, or maybe planning to kill her somewhere to solve the problem once and for all.
But when Wohard’s resounding inner voice echoed in her heart, she realized all her guesses were completely off the mark.
Wohard’s inner voice: “Miss Sovinia’s face is so small, so fair, like a hard-boiled egg after the shell’s been peeled…”
Oh, so it’s desire after all, she had forgotten about that. In this Demon Castle, this weak, powerless body that had nothing but beauty and long legs could only rely on trading desires for the shelter of the strong.
Looks like I’ve been a strong one for so long, I’ve forgotten the rules the weak live by. Though it’s uncomfortable, it’s still better than if he had an appetite for eating me. Maybe I can find a way to dangle this dumb dog, make him jump into that Garbage Pit to fight the Slime King himself…
Just as Sovinia was plotting.
Wohard’s inner voice continued to echo in her heart.
***
“…She’s as fragile as a hard-boiled egg. An arrow, a flying rock, and she’d meet a tragic end. She’s lost her country, her kin’s protection, trapped in such a dangerous Demon Castle… As a Knight, I ought to protect her.”
Sovinia’s eye twitched.
Fragile as a hard-boiled egg?
Protect?
These words lashed at her pride like thorny vines, making her so furious she nearly bared her teeth.
It wasn’t greed for beauty, nor lust for the opposite sex.
It was pity.
The pity of the strong for the weak, of humans for pets, and, unthinkably, this dumb dog’s lofty, arrogant pity for her—the great First Heavenly King, Kimi the Coldhearted!
He actually pities me?!
Sovinia felt that, as the dignified First Heavenly King, this was a disgrace beyond compare.
Her heart pounded with rage.
A rush of hot blood surged to her head, and Sovinia’s jade-like fair face, even her snow-white pointed ears, instantly flushed crimson.
And her hand, unconsciously tightening, tried to dig her nails into Wohard’s hand. Unfortunately, the “dumb dog” had thick skin—her own nail broke instead.
A voice came from above:
“Miss Sovinia? Your face is so red…”
Sovinia abruptly let go, muttering sullenly, “It’s nothing.”
Wohard saw her face flushed red, mistook it for shyness, struggled to pull his gaze away from her, and took a few steps back.
“Did I offend you? I’m terribly sorry, I meant no harm…”
That retreat was so gentle, as if he was careful not to startle a little cat huddled in the corner, trying not to trigger its stress.
Sovinia felt like her lungs were about to burst. She took a deep breath and said, “It’s nothing, I just…” really want to kill you right now.
She forced the words back down and said, “…My face just feels a little hot.”
Wohard nodded. “I see.”
The atmosphere between them became awkward, and after a long moment,
Wohard finally spoke, “We don’t have much time. I must get you out of the Demon Castle quickly. I have a Map.”
Sovinia lifted her head, the blush fading from her face, her expression turning icy. “Hero.”
“Oh?”
“Are you a virgin?”
“Yes… Miss Sovinia, why do you suddenly ask that?”
No wonder.
With his strength and status, he was still a virgin—probably meant his head was filled with all those weak human values, thoroughly tamed.
Sovinia took a deep breath and tossed out the lie she’d planned earlier:
“Actually, the Map was secretly given to you by Kimi the Coldhearted, to use your party.”
Wohard was stunned. “What? Wait, so that’s why Kimi the Coldhearted betrayed his master?”
“So this Map, except for the path to the throne room, everything else is fake.”
“Is that so?”
“Trust me.” Sovinia pointed calmly at the ‘Garbage Pit’ and said, “The cave below is a shortcut.”
***
Wohard looked at the Map again—the corridor’s lower section was indeed marked as a cave called ‘Garbage Pit’. He looked at the entrance, from which a stench of kitchen refuse wafted up.
“You’re sure it’s not just called Garbage Pit because it’s where the Demon Race disposes of trash?”
Sovinia took another deep breath.
Though she loathed it, for the sake of one day regaining her male body, she had to make use of those weak human values of pity.
With that, she reached out her hand again. “I’m a little scared. Could you… lend me your hand again? With you here, I won’t be so afraid.”
“As you wish, Miss Sovinia.”
Wohard’s hand wrapped around Sovinia’s, his inner voice exploded in her mind:
‘Her hand doesn’t have a single callus, not a warrior’s hand at all. How can such a delicate, fragile Elf Princess survive in a place like this?’
Delicate, fragile.
Sovinia’s pointed ears quivered with anger, but she managed to steady her tone:
“Trust me.”
“Alright… then we’ll go below. Miss Sovinia, but you must stay right behind me—don’t leave my side for a single step, and we mustn’t disturb the Slime King. My Holy Sword can’t take too much strain in battle—it’s held out long enough already.”
They let go of each other and walked to the cave’s mouth.
The rocks at the edge of the entrance had been vitrified by high heat, making them slippery as glass.
A strong smell of sulfur and rot surged from below. Wohard lit a spare torch, and its orange glow illuminated the steep slope into the lower cave.
Sovinia followed behind him. As an elf, her body granted her excellent night vision.
They descended the slope, drawing near to the bottom where slick moss grew.
“Careful, Miss Sovinia.”
Dumb dog, as if a bit of moss could trip me up?
Sovinia’s boots suddenly slipped, her body losing balance and pitching forward.
Instead of falling as expected, she crashed straight into Wohard’s arms, her head thunking against his chestplate.
Wohard steadied her and said, “Hey! Watch it! You almost went rolling down.”
Sovinia’s body froze—not from fear, but from a pure rage worthy of the First Heavenly King, Kimi. How could I slip?! It must be this frail body’s fault!
She quickly straightened herself, struggled out of Wohard’s arms, and instinctively tidied her skirt.
“Understood, this cursed place is too slippery.”
They continued downward. The cave was humid and stifling, strangely enough, the stench had faded. The air was sticky, with drips and squelching sounds echoing all around.
“Follow me, I remember the way.” Sovinia took the lead.
“Remember to avoid the Slime King.”
“Mm.”
Sovinia made her way through the cave, heading straight for the Slime King’s lair. According to her experience, just being near the lair would be enough to draw its attention.
That way, she wouldn’t arouse the dumb dog’s suspicion, and could have him do the dangerous work for her.
After about ten minutes.
Sovinia halted.
Because the first enemies had appeared.
Several blobs of green jelly slid from the shadows of the rocks—mid-sized Slimes.
The battle was simple and efficient.
Wohard slashed with his scorched longsword, while Sovinia scattered salt from behind, like a village wife feeding her hens.
With sizzling, corrosive sounds, the Slimes’ bodies visibly shriveled and liquefied, leaving puddles of green fluid on the ground.
***
After clearing a few waves of small fry, Sovinia led Wohard through one narrow crack and cave after another, until the reek in the air began to fade.
The air grew ever drier.
Sovinia grew more uneasy—where was the Slime King? The hungry Slime King should have come out long ago.
At last, they arrived at an unusually vast underground cavern, with light spilling from its entrance.
Wohard blocked Sovinia with his torch-bearing arm, signaling for silence, and then extinguished the torch.
The two of them sneaked behind a massive cluster of stalactites, carefully peeking into the cavern.
The scene inside made Wohard’s breath catch. Sovinia poked her head out from behind his shoulder to see.
The whole cavern resembled a giant bowl, its base a writhing swamp of green—a Slime swamp. Slimes of various sizes rolled, merged, and split within the marsh.
At the very center, a colossal creature drew all attention.
It was a giant Slime, massive enough to fill half a city block, its body a deep green. Its surface swelled with huge bubbles like boiling mud, then slowly collapsed again.
Inside its body, a mound of half-digested corpses could be faintly seen, nearly filling its belly.
The ceiling of the cavern had been melted into a massive opening, and now several fresh Demon Race corpses tumbled down through it. The Slime King stretched out a pseudopod to catch them, drawing them into its body.
Wohard whispered, “Are the Demon Race performing a sacrifice?”
“No,” Sovinia said. “They’re disposing of failures.”
At that moment, the most sickening thing—on the Slime King’s surface, a tiny Slime ‘birthed’ and dropped into the swamp below, merging with its kin.
“Thanks to you,” Wohard said sincerely, “we don’t need to worry about being ambushed by the Slime King. Let’s just not disturb it.”
No, I insist on disturbing it. Sovinia thought, her fingers tightening around a stone she’d secretly picked up.
This dumb dog loves to play the Hero—let him have another performance, then.