Chapter 12: The Demon King

Cecilia froze.

She looked at the tavern before her, now completely burned to ashes, and at those former companions swallowed by the sea of flames, feeling momentarily lost.

In such a short time, she had been hunted down by those devout companions who once cherished her like a treasure…

Even though she had fled into demon territory—a near-certain death sentence—they still wouldn’t let her go.

But all she wanted was to survive.

“What are you still staring at?”

Via grabbed her arm and turned her face around.

“Are you feeling pity for them? Thinking I shouldn’t have killed them?”

“These people… they are my brethren, my fellow believers, my warriors…”

“That was in the past,” Via sneered coldly.

“Miss Saint, I don’t want to get involved in your petty power struggles, but I know very well that the moment they drew their blades against you, the so-called bond of kinship was already broken. In their hearts, orders and their own futures are worth far more than a ‘friend’ like you.”

“Now, come back with me.”

“…Back then, did you feel the same as I do now?”

Cecilia turned to look at her, then asked softly.

There was a hint of caution in her voice.

“…Why do you care?”

Via turned away without meeting her gaze.

“I told you, Via is dead. If you want to ask how she felt, I’m afraid it’s far more complicated than your current feelings.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand your feelings back then.”

Without truly experiencing it, it’s hard to grasp the pain of Saint Via’s betrayal.

Before this, Cecilia had always believed that even in the face of betrayal, one should hold onto their principles.

Everyone has something they want to protect.

If you can’t even uphold that bottom line, how can you be called a saint?

But in truth, after being betrayed herself, Cecilia felt that indescribable pain.

At this moment, she understood Via’s feelings, to some extent.

She also knew that this feeling was probably just a small part of what Via had experienced; after all, what happened fifty years ago was far more severe than what she was going through now.

“I never expected you to understand my feelings, Cecilia. Please know your place—right now, you are a refugee protected by me with your own body. Some things don’t require you to be so sentimental.”

Via’s tone was cold.

She took a step and left, not intending to continue the conversation.

“…She’s running away.”

Cecilia muttered to herself.

***

When they returned to her mansion, Via didn’t continue discussing the day’s events with Cecilia.

To her, Stinky Fish Town was always a target for her attack.

Avenging Cecilia was just an incidental matter.

She didn’t care how the Saint herself felt about such actions.

However…

As Via lay on her bed, the expression the Saint gave her earlier lingered in her mind.

That look was filled with pity and sympathy.

Via knew the Saint’s attitude toward her.

From the beginning, this Saint hadn’t completely rejected her; otherwise, she wouldn’t have come to her when she was being persecuted.

Yet just now, she had chosen to treat her with cold indifference.

After all, being pitied and sympathized with by someone who once worshiped you was far too humiliating.

Thinking of this, Via’s heart became a tangled mess.

She had tried to sever ties with her past self, but it seemed she still couldn’t let go of those grudges.

She sighed deeply, then got up to take a proper bath and wash away the lingering smell of smoke.

“You really have found yourself quite an interesting toy.”

A bell-like voice rang in her ear, making Via shudder.

She raised her hand and sent a large fireball toward the source of the voice.

At the moment the fireball was about to hit, it seemed to be enveloped by some immense presence and was silently caught by a small, delicate hand.

“My dear Via, why are you still so reckless?”

Accompanying the voice that sounded like a playful tease, a small girl jumped down.

She was a white-haired girl, clearly not yet an adult.

Her petite body, dressed in a luxurious black gown, looked even more cute and elegant.

Her face was almost bloodless, showing a sickly pallor, but her eyes gleamed with a strange ruby-like light.

“If I’d known it was you, I would have thrown more spells.”

Via looked at this little girl, who was much shorter than herself, with exasperation.

Of course, despite what she said, she wasn’t really inclined to attack.

Not because she didn’t want to, but because it would be useless.

This was Lilith, the Demon King, the supreme leader of the demons, and the First among the Thirteen Demon Lords.

Though she appeared fragile and elegant, she was the opposite of harmless in character.

Via’s current state was thanks to this Demon King.

It was Lilith who dug up the corpse of the dead Saint Via from the grave, extracted the blood, and reconstructed a body.

She had also preserved Via’s soul in advance, allowing her to be “reborn.”

Of course, it was also Lilith who cruelly modified the body—originally supposed to be exactly the same as Saint Via’s—into a succubus form.

The reason?

Simply the Demon King’s twisted amusement.

Since becoming a demon, Lilith had treated Via like a toy for her entertainment.

She even tried to awaken Via’s succubus instincts to savor the thrill of a former human hero submitting to the demon race beneath her.

That plan, of course, ultimately failed.

“How mean, Sister Via. I went out of my way to come see you, and you attacked me so fiercely.”

Lilith leaned against Via, sulking, then rubbed against her.

As a pureblood blood demon—a vampire—her low body temperature gave Via a cool comfort when she was close.

Still, Via rejected the affectionate little human air conditioner.

She pushed Lilith’s small head aside and looked at her annoyed: “Get to the point. I’m busy.”

“Seems like you really don’t want me here. What, already eager to go play with your little toy?”

The Demon King smiled, her sharp fangs strangely harmless on that cute little face.

“How do you know about that?”

“I know everything.”