The secret passage was pitch dark, with only the breathing sounds of the two walking one behind the other.
Sovinia, carrying her black leather backpack, followed behind Wohard.
Her thoughts drifted away from the darkness before her, sinking into the nightmare she had just endured.
She remembered that “Burn” which had blasted through the Demon Castle earlier—although it exploited a loophole in the rules by using the Vicious Dog as a medium to indirectly harm the Queen of Demons, the main damage had still struck the Queen.
But that damned Queen of Demons had moved much faster than expected.
The nightmare lashed at her in her dreams, and did not cease even when she was awake—how cruel would the furious Queen of Demons be to a traitor?
Just thinking about that “Goblin Ultimate Humiliation Assembly” made Sovinia shudder inside.
She didn’t want to become goblin feces, and even less did she want goblins to hold a “Life Connection Ritual” with her using knives.
She would rather die than fall into the Queen of Demons’ hands.
Even dying too slowly wouldn’t be acceptable—she still couldn’t escape the Queen’s torment.
The Queen of Demons also had extremely poor patience.
Once she locked onto a general area, she would conduct a carpet search in the most direct and brutal way.
There wasn’t much time left.
She had to retrieve her head and restore her male body within three days.
To achieve this goal, the Vicious Dog in front of her was her only tool—a tool that needed to be destroyed after three days.
The moment she found her head would be the moment she and Wohard parted ways.
She knew very well that when she regained her power and turned back into Kimi the Coldhearted, Wohard would not hesitate to raise his battle axe.
So before that, she must squeeze him dry to the utmost, and kill him to make him drop a Gold Card and treasure.
She would use her familiarity with the Demon Castle’s layout to lead them along the most dangerous paths.
Only through endless battles could she exhaust the Vicious Dog’s stamina and energy, creating the perfect opportunity for a final backstab.
Only in endless slaughter could she make him “produce” more and stronger cards.
Yes—let him draw the enemy’s fire, let him take the damage, while she hid behind and waited for the chance to harvest enemy lives, earning cards to strengthen herself.
And poison.
Sovinia’s hand unconsciously reached back, feeling through the leather of the backpack as if she could sense the packet of powder inside.
That was a clever little tool placed in the supplies—poison extracted from a Poison Scorpion Stinger, capable of paralyzing a Minotaur’s muscles and stopping its heart within three seconds.
Before the break, she would use her right to poison through cooking, and feed it into Wohard’s stomach.
When the time came, the advantage in the split would surely be hers.
Just as Sovinia had finished planning, Wohard in front suddenly stopped.
Sovinia nearly crashed into his back, and for a moment she had the absurd thought that Wohard might have heard her thoughts.
“About last night,” Wohard said without turning around, his voice echoing in the narrow passage.
“I’m sorry—about Birdclaw. I shouldn’t have snatched it from you and destroyed it so roughly, even if it was an evil item…”
“But that evil item probably carried Sovinia’s hope of escaping the Demon Castle, didn’t it?”
Sovinia was stunned.
An apology?
This concept felt so foreign and absurd in her mind.
Why would the strong apologize to the weak?
Why would the victor express regret for the loser’s loss?
He had clearly taken and destroyed that thing by his own strength—it was his spoils of war, he could do whatever he wanted with it.
The strong are supposed to humiliate the weak.
Sovinia could only respond with, “Oh.”
“So I think what you need is reassurance.”
His tone was incredibly sincere, as if reciting a knight’s oath.
“I swear I will take you out of the Demon Castle and back to the Human World.”
‘Is this Vicious Dog serious? What is this human thinking?’
Sovinia’s curiosity surged.
She couldn’t help but raise her hand, finding the only patch of bare skin on Wohard’s back—that burnt neck—and gently rested her slender finger on it.
A strong pulse beat beneath her fingertips, and his inner voice flooded into her mind:
‘She must be so sad… That might have been her only hope. I was out of my mind to be so rude to a princess who has just suffered so much. I have to protect her—that’s my duty as a Hero.’
A strange sensation, like a weak electric current, shot from her fingertips through Sovinia’s limbs.
It was an emotion she had never experienced in a century of demon life—not disgust, not calculation, not murderous intent…
What emotion was this? So warm.
‘Is this Vicious Dog really feeling guilty over such a trivial thing?’
Her finger curled, then, as if burned, she yanked her hand back abruptly.
‘Perfect.’
Sovinia thought, and couldn’t help reaching back again to touch the poison in her bag.
The more guilty he felt, the more he would trust her, and the smoother her poisoning would go.
That way, when the time came to squeeze him dry, he would unsuspectingly swallow the hot soup and food she prepared.
“Why did you suddenly touch my neck?”
“Let’s go.”
Sovinia said.
“I’m glad to hear your words.”
‘That will make the poisoning much smoother.’
Wohard nodded.
“Alright.”
Walking out of the secret passage’s exit, they returned to the wall where they had entered the passage yesterday, arriving at that corner.
Again, two heads—one tall, one short—peeked out from the corner to spy.
Sovinia looked toward the entrance of her bedchamber.
The batch of demons that had been blocking the entrance yesterday was gone—or rather, no longer standing.
They had become a litter of dismembered corpses on the ground, the air thick with the stench of blood and scorched flesh.
And performing the “disposal” of the demons that had been at the entrance was a new batch of demons.
Several tall ogres, while carrying out “Energy Recovery,” surrounded the huge Obsidian Gate, ramming and chopping at it with the most primitive methods, trying to get the wall—which was already in the shape of a door—to take pity and open for them.
Wohard said in a low voice, “Good opportunity. I’ll launch a surprise attack—be careful.”
It was indeed a good opportunity, but this path was too safe.
He would encounter too few “fellow demons” along the way, so his combat power would suffer little loss, and she would gain fewer cards.
Absolutely not.
Sovinia immediately grabbed him and lowered her voice to lie.
“Don’t go. Fighting here will draw more enemies. The bedchamber of Kimi the Coldhearted must have attracted many demons. I know another way.”
She pointed to the other end of the corridor.
That path was darker and deeper, leading to a more complex area of the Demon Castle, and it was close to the barracks—where there were many demon compatriots.
Wohard nodded, trusting Sovinia.
They advanced along the route Sovinia had chosen.
The internal structure of the Demon Castle was intricate, with long corridors connecting rooms of various functions, like a huge underground labyrinth.
After the battle in the Throne Room, the structure of the Demon Castle had undergone a small change due to Sovinia’s Burn.
The Burn had nearly burned straight through the Demon Castle, turning it into a bloody arena.
Sounds of slaughter came from all directions, sometimes far, sometimes near—the roar of monsters, the clash of weapons, and the screams of the dying.
Walking through it, Sovinia couldn’t help recalling the time she had advised the Queen of Demons to remodel the interior structure.
Because she thought the Demon Castle’s interior was too much like a maze from a video game in her past life—the kind where the protagonist’s party would go into a dungeon, solve equipment, money, and even emotional problems.
But now, it seemed reality was reality.
This Vicious Dog human Hero hadn’t solved the equipment problem, nor had he solved the emotional problem.
Instead, he was covered in wounds, half his face burned.
And in the future, he would die a virgin, bursting into a Gold Card and treasure for her.
‘What a fine script.’