Sovinia followed closely behind Wohard, her footsteps deliberately light, maintaining a small distance from his clanking plate armor.
This distance was both physical and psychological.
She needed time to think, to respond to this sudden variable.
The Vicious Dog’s impatient demeanor reminded her of a fly drawn to the stench of blood, stirring irritation within her.
What if there really was an Elf Princess?
Would this idiot dog immediately turn his sword tip and chop off her fake head?
They rushed past the corner, and the view suddenly opened up.
This should have been a gorgeous side hall, but a toppled stone pillar had smashed a hole in the wall, revealing a completely different space within.
‘How can this pillar be so shoddy? Falling over just like that?’
Sovinia thought resentfully.
She peeked with a discontented heart.
The pillar had fallen because of divine power from the ceiling.
Mysterious force had melted through the ceiling and incidentally burned the pillar’s base.
Who did it?
Naturally, it was the illustrious First Heavenly King under the Queen of Demons, Human Slayer, Elf Nightmare, Grand Marshal of 300,000 Army… the Cold-hearted One, Kimi!
At this moment, this culprit with so many epithets they couldn’t fit in one room was secretly regretting using his “Burn” too forcefully.
If only he hadn’t used cards to keep multiplying his power, all the way to the limit of 999 points of strength.
He had pretended to be dead to stack power for ages.
All that accumulated force, with maximum environmental destruction effects, but in the end, he hadn’t killed a single person.
While Sovinia silently complained.
The clanking Wohard strode into that hole.
Sovinia came to the edge of the hole and looked inside, thinking to herself: ‘Damn it.’
Inside the hole was a cage, but it was more like a beautifully decorated cell.
The floor was covered with soft thick carpets, and in the corner was even a bed with curtains.
The air held a faint lingering fragrance, completely out of place with the sulfur and blood smell permeating the Demon Castle.
One glance told her this was a prison cell for honored guests in the Demon Castle.
Wohard charged down like a warhorse.
His broad back blocked Sovinia’s view like a wall as he roared:
“Stop! Release that lady!”
His roar echoed through the empty room.
She could stand on tiptoe, straining to look over his shoulder, casting her gaze toward the center of the room.
When she saw the scene ahead, her heart sank heavily, a chill shooting from the soles of her feet straight to the crown of her head.
Trouble.
In the center of the room, two crude iron chains hung the Elf maiden’s hands, suspending her in midair.
She had waterfall-like silver hair, longer and brighter than Sovinia’s current female body, flowing with moonlike luster in the dim light.
Her snow-white skin was as delicate as fine porcelain, and even with some dust, it didn’t diminish its radiance.
On her head was a small, exquisite crown set with gems that twinkled, proclaiming her noble identity.
She wore a once gorgeous court dress, now torn to shreds into strips of cloth, barely covering crucial parts.
The tattered fragments hung messily, actually accentuating the curves of her body wrapped within.
Two slender, straight legs were exposed to the air, sheathed in black silk stockings that clung tightly to her rounded thighs and delicate calves.
The exquisite lace at the top of the stockings was faintly visible at the base of her thighs.
Her feet were bare.
Her small toes curled slightly from the hanging position, looking helpless and pitiful.
A group of Goblins surrounded her, making disgusting lewd laughter.
They held sharp knives in their hands, seemingly arguing about where to start.
The Elf Princess’s skin seemed to glow even in the dimness, every inch like a divine creation.
And a Goblin’s grimy green claw hovered just above her shiny black-stockinged calf.
The rough nails were almost about to tear through the thin black silk.
It grinned, revealing yellow-black teeth, drool dripping onto the gorgeous carpet with a faint “splat” sound.
It muttered something about “seizing Elf power.”
For a moment, Sovinia’s mind went blank.
So… there really was an Elf Princess in the Demon Castle?
She instinctively tightened her grip on the Moonlight Blade, her knuckles turning white from the force.
She even recognized some of the Goblins.
The ones with the most muscles, laughing the most arrogantly, were exactly the main ones from back when the Queen of Demons forced her to “observe.”
Main ones?
They were the ones who, while connecting and seizing demonic power, also showed off and taunted her.
They knew she found it disgusting, and they knew she could do nothing about them.
Even as a Heavenly King, she had to endure.
Deep-seated hatred and nausea surged up, but the next second, she began cheering for these “evil Goblins.”
Kill her.
She prayed silently, not to Heaven Above, nor to the Four Gods, but to these Goblins she wished she could hack to pieces.
Do it, you idiots!
One slice, cut open that beautiful neck, and let it all end.
Though it would be a pity to lose such a beauty, it was far better than losing her own head.
Her prayer went unanswered.
Wohard, like an enraged lion, had already charged forward.
The Goblins hadn’t reacted yet.
The Demonic Greatsword in Wohard’s hand turned into a black whirlwind with the sound of wind and thunder.
The Goblins didn’t even have time to scream before they were torn to shreds in the sword’s light.
In a few strokes, the battle was over.
Green blood splattered all over the floor.
Sovinia couldn’t help but slap her forehead.
Goblin combat strength was truly weak.
Even the specially enhanced ones.
They had walked in almost openly, yet the Goblins hadn’t reacted at all.
“Miss, are you alright?”
Wohard put away his sword and looked up at the suspended Elf maiden, his voice full of concern and tenderness.
Sovinia stood on the steps a dozen paces away, watching coldly.
She was still muttering to herself: ‘It’s a Mimic. It must be a Mimic. In a moment, it’ll open its bloody jaws and swallow the idiot dog.’
But the Elf maiden just shook her head weakly.
Her golden eyes filled with tears, which dripped down her face onto the ground.
She looked at Wohard with tear-filled eyes, fragile as a snowflake.
Wohard hesitated no longer.
He swung his sword and severed the chains holding the maiden.
With a clatter, the freed Elf maiden’s body went limp.
She cried out and collapsed onto the carpet.
Her tattered skirt completely opened from this movement, her black-stockinged thighs exposed without cover, the view beneath her skirt completely visible.
Wohard immediately turned his head away, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face.
But he quickly recovered, knelt on one knee, took off his tattered cloak, and gently draped it over the maiden.
He reached out and, with an almost reverent gesture, took her wrist and helped her to her feet.
“Thank you, brave knight.”
The Elf maiden steadied herself, then bowed gracefully to Wohard.
Her voice was like a clear spring flowing over rocks, melodious and pleasant.
Sovinia watched this scene, watched the tender expression on Wohard’s face as if he wanted to tear out his own heart.
An inexplicable irritation welled up inside her.
It was like a hunting dog she had painstakingly tamed had immediately turned to wag its tail at someone else.
This feeling made her uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable.
Clearly, she had tamed him first.
“My name is Linalia,” the Elf maiden introduced herself, her voice carrying an innate nobility.
“I am the princess of the Silver Moon Forest. My nation and my people will forever remember your kindness.”
Silver Moon Forest…
Princess Linalia…
Sovinia’s heart sank completely to the bottom.
This nation, she had heard of it.
It was a fairly powerful Elf kingdom.
She had once led 30,000 Demon warriors to engage in “military exchanges” with this Elf nation.
The whole process had been very enthusiastic, lasting half a year.
25,000 Demon warriors, due to the Elves’ excessive enthusiasm, had remained forever in the Silver Moon Forest.
Wohard asked: “You… you are also an Elf Princess?”
Linalia rattled off a fluent string of Elvish.
Sovinia didn’t understand, but based on her experience fighting Elves, this was Elvish.
It’s over.
This one is genuine.
She instinctively looked back at the passage behind her, her mind racing.
Run?
Was it still too late to escape now?
But her card deck was built on the premise of having this idiot dog.
By herself, could she successfully obtain his head?
Stay?
Who would Wohard believe?
An unknown “Sovinia” who couldn’t speak Elvish, or a princess who could name herself?
Worst case, she’d just give up on the male body’s head and let some fool take it.
This body’s combat power gave her a chance to escape in the Demon Castle.
As long as she escaped far enough, even if the Queen of Demons had already planted two Enslavement Rules in her soul… she didn’t know about her transformation either.
She still had a chance.
To carve out a path of “Ascension” in the Demon World, to become the Chosen One again, to challenge the Queen of Demons.
But… to be forever trapped in this weak Elven female body like this?
To give up the male body of Kimi that she had painstakingly ascended over a century?
Sovinia turned her head to look behind her.
She was about to leave, but then gritted her teeth and forcibly turned her head back.
She could still hear Wohard’s inner thoughts.
Whatever he thought, she would make up.
Even if he wanted to share the bed with her today!
She would generously say the words “I love you!”
Anyway, he had a day and a half left to live.
At worst, when she backstabbed him, she’d stab ten more times.
Ah no, a hundred times.
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