Wohard took a deep breath and put down his battle axe, but his hand still gripped the handle tightly.
He walked forward a few steps, closing the distance between him and Sovinia.
Sovinia immediately reached for her [Moonlight Blade], gripping the hilt, but did not draw it.
The law of the jungle—the strong devour the weak. Sovinia had played the strong for too long, but that didn’t mean she’d forgotten how the weak survive.
Wohard stopped just one step away from Sovinia.
Sovinia did her best not to tilt her head up to look at him. It was uncomfortable.
“Miss Sovinia,” Wohard spoke more gently now, though the resolve in his eyes never wavered, “I must apologize, because I am about to use impolite force against you. Please hand over the Birdclaw, and I’ll destroy it.”
Sovinia raised her head, meeting his gaze directly. “Don’t you want to kill the Queen of Demons?”
Wohard froze.
“Trust me,” Sovinia said. “I know the Demon Race far better than you imagine. In your current state, if you meet the Queen of Demons in the Demon Castle, you’ll die.”
“My Holy Sword is no longer usable. As long as I have a good weapon—even if it’s Kimi the Coldhearted’s—”
“That gap isn’t something a good weapon or better gear can make up for.”
“She ran. She fled from her throne room.”
“She’s only afraid of dying, not of you, but of the other demons. A gravely wounded, dying Demon King isn’t a king, but a stepping stone for a new one.”
Wohard spoke slowly, “But this is the Wish Granting Malice Engine, am I wrong, Miss Sovinia?”
***
Sovinia lowered her gaze, seeing her smooth thigh beneath her short skirt. To have fallen so far, to become a feeble elven female—this was the result of her third Wish.
That wish was made eighteen years ago, when the situation was dire, enemies strong and allies few. She considered wishing for: “I will be reborn,” or the like, but figured her corpse would probably be guarded.
So she wished: “If I die, I must be reincarnated.”
The Wish came true. A “Bottle Genie” appeared in her arms, but she never had to use it.
Because, by bravely slaying enemies, she caught the attention of the Blood God, and with only herself and the Guard Squad, slaughtered the entire Human Legion encircling them, carving a mountain of corpses and a path of blood.
She hadn’t expected the Bottle Genie to be needed eighteen years later—and at such a price.
Still, a price was better than dying with her head rolling.
Sovinia said, “Yes, but trust me, the cost is worth it compared to what it gives you.”
“If you make a Wish to this wicked thing, to kill the Queen of Demons, I believe, given its malice, it will make me the new Demon King.”
Would that really be so great? You’d die to my backstab, and I would become the new Demon King, obtain the Book of Worlds, and grasp my own fate. That’d also count as fulfilling your life’s worth.
Sovinia said, “So are you willing to pay that price?”
“To become the new Demon King?”
Sovinia always found it a little absurd. Wasn’t becoming the Demon King supposed to be a great thing?
She said, “Yes.”
“Hand it over, Miss Sovinia. This is the last time I’ll ask.”
“No.” Sovinia tried to lie, “This is my hope of getting out—ah!”
***
Wohard moved.
He was extremely fast, but Sovinia reacted too—she’d prepared her actions in advance. As soon as she detected Wohard’s “windup,” she responded instantly.
But she was too weak to resist.
Wohard’s powerful arm pulled her tightly into his chest, while his other hand precisely grabbed the wrist holding the Birdclaw. The difference in strength made her struggle like a baby. The Birdclaw was quickly snatched away.
Seeing the Birdclaw taken, Sovinia didn’t move or struggle, fully aware of the way the weak survive.
Wohard said softly, “I’m sorry.”
He released Sovinia, took two steps back, placed the Birdclaw on the ground, and with a single arm, hefted his battle axe and swung down hard.
With a crisp “crack,” the Birdclaw was sliced in two by the axe blade.
A dark red light burst from the broken ends, spiraling in the air with a piercing screech before fading away. The remains of the Birdclaw rapidly weathered, turning into a heap of ash.
Sovinia stood in place, staring at the ash, her face expressionless.
Trying to steal a chicken only to lose the rice—she’d thought that dumb dog would be moved by her words, crave the power to deal with the possible appearance of the Queen of Demons.
She’d also considered, since Wohard was after all a human hero, his mind must be full of that thing called “kindness,” that soft and weak thing.
She figured at most he’d refuse, but keep the treasure as a “last resort.”
But he destroyed the Birdclaw outright, cutting off all paths. It just showed she still didn’t understand these weak humans, nor this dumb dog’s self-destructive actions… She truly couldn’t comprehend his stupidity—it was an eye-opener.
She’d chopped off so many human heads before—why couldn’t she understand their thinking? Perhaps this was that so-called “each trade has its own expertise.”
She turned and walked silently toward the bathroom deep within the palace chambers.
***
“Miss Sovinia!” Wohard’s voice sounded behind her, full of obvious worry. “Where are you going?”
Sovinia didn’t respond.
He quickly caught up, blocking the door to the bath: “Please, don’t do anything foolish! I swear, I will get you out of the Demon Castle. I will see you safely back to the Elf Royal Court!”
Sovinia stopped, raising her head to look at him.
That dumb dog’s face was filled with concern, her reflection shining in his blue eyes.
A powerless Oath was no different than empty words. Perhaps even less—at least the latter has some smell to it.
Out of her own sense of being the weak, Sovinia still didn’t say it out loud.
“I’m going to take a bath.” She said expressionlessly, “Would you like to join me?”
Wohard’s face turned bright red in an instant. He opened his mouth, but not a sound came out.
“N-no need!” he stammered, hurriedly moving aside. “I’ve already bathed.”
“I thought you might want another.”
Sovinia pushed open the bathroom door and walked in.
Wohard stood outside, listening to the sounds of water inside. He lingered a moment, pressing his ear to the door, making sure nothing sounded unusual, before turning to leave.
Inside the bath, Sovinia stripped off her dusty, though not too dirty, clothes, undoing her thick braids as she walked toward the bath. The tub was spotless.
That dumb dog really liked cleanliness; he hadn’t dirtied the bathroom at all. For that, she’d stab him half a blade less when she put a knife in his back someday.
Warm water enveloped her frail body, bringing a rare relaxation.
She closed her eyes, sinking into the water, her silver-white hair floating on the surface.
Dumb dog—truly a dumb dog.
But it was exactly because he was dumb that he was so easy to fool.
But before that, she had to keep playing the part of this “amnesiac Elven Princess,” recover her strength, and rid herself of this frail body, only then could she contend with the Queen of Demons.
So step by step it would be. The first step: don’t waste time on pleasure—she had to stand guard and take shifts.
Just as she stood up, her body left the warm water.
This body started to protest. A primal urge clamored in her mind, urging her to soak longer, scrub every inch of skin clean, comb the silver hair until there wasn’t a single tangle. As if not doing so, this vessel would wither away.
What a troublesome female body.
Sovinia scoffed at this, about to wade out, when the water’s surface reflected her face.
She paused, staring at the reflection. This face, this body… was her only asset for now—her only weapon for controlling that dumb dog and fighting the Queen of Demons.
Weapons, of course, needed to be kept in the best condition.
That was a tactical decision.
She calmed herself, grabbed the bath tools, and lay back into the water, carefully washing her long hair, scrubbing her chest, her legs, her feet… Her movements were just like polishing a blade soon to taste blood.