– The Demon King Is Seriously Pissed.
As the phrase suggested, Lucart was indeed completely enraged—so much so that he was tearing apart the Demon King’s Castle.
A massive surge of demonic energy spread like a storm throughout the castle. The demon folk, who had been going about their lives without a care, were now suffocating under the oppressive aura.
“P-please… spare me…”
“What’s going on? Are we at war?!”
The terrifying presence he once only revealed on the battlefield was now unleashed in their everyday lives. Naturally, the peaceful demons were terrified. And the merfolk, who were just guests in the castle, looked like they were about to faint.
“Your Majesty, Demon King! Please, that’s enough!”
Lyat clung tightly to Lucart’s waist, desperately trying to stop him, but the demonic energy pouring from him showed no signs of subsiding.
This isn’t like him. What the hell is going on?
Lyat threw a glance toward Martin, silently pleading for help. Snapping out of his daze, Martin ran over to assist, also grabbing onto Lucart.
“Stop it. You’re scaring everyone.”
“My lord, please! Just tell us what’s wrong! Why are you like this?!”
The two of them hung onto his sides, but Lucart only shut his eyes tightly.
Betrayal by the elder he trusted—
And Lucifer’s temptation—
How could he possibly remain composed and deal with others after all that? A terrifying amount of demonic energy continued to pour from Lucart.
“Stop wasting your energy here! You’re going to collapse at this rate! Snap out of it!”
Unable to take it anymore, Lyat jumped on his back, hanging from his neck like a child. Still, Lucart didn’t stop. His sharp eyes flicked around the room, his aura flaring—he was searching for someone.
The elders. I need to find them.
And tear them apart with my own hands.
“Sir Lyat, Sir Martin. That’s enough. Step back.”
A calm, gentle voice interrupted.
It was the First Elder, Nord.
“You two aren’t capable of stopping the Demon King right now.”
Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Nord stepped toward Lucart. Though consumed by his demonic energy, Lucart’s eyes were still clear as he turned to Nord.
Then Nord dropped a corpse at Lucart’s feet.
“Karte, the one behind all of today’s events, is dead.”
As if on cue, the demonic energy around Lucart began to calm. He stared blankly at the body. This wasn’t suicide—the deep wound in the chest was unmistakably caused by Nord’s preferred sword.
“The demons who got involved without knowing the truth have been detained. And as for Muller—he fainted the moment he found out. Doesn’t look like he had much of a role in all this.”
“…Vincent.”
“He ran away.”
A growing chill crept across Lucart’ face. Lyat, who had been dangling from his neck, quietly released her grip and watched him carefully.
“I will go find him. For now, please, regain your composure.”
Lucart closed his eyes slowly, silently reviewing Nord’s words.
Vincent—the one responsible for the monster outbreak—had escaped.
But Karte, who had tried to kill Shekina, had been caught and killed.
The weight of the Demon Realm and Shekina could never be equal, yet Lucart oddly felt a sense of relief. And so, he quickly suppressed the demonic energy.
“I lost control. I apologize.”
The terrifying aura that had spread throughout the castle dissipated as if it had evaporated. That overwhelming force, gone so quickly—unbelievable.
Both Lyat and Martin, who had been staring blankly at Lucart, had the same thought: Let’s never cross him.
Either way, they quietly stepped back now that Lucart had calmed down.
“Uh… no, it’s fine. Aside from almost dying, I’m alright.”
“It hurts. But I’m fine.”
“……..”
Shouldn’t that not be something you call “fine”?
Lucart was baffled, but since he had some fault in this, he kept his mouth shut. Lyat approached him again.
“But what do you mean, the Elders? What did those bastards do this time?”
Lucart turned to Nord, who smiled gently and nodded, signaling that he should explain.
“It seems the monsters are connected to them.”
“…What?”
“That mess in the Demon Realm—those bastards caused it.”
“Wait… No way. That’s… insane…”
Shocked by the sudden revelation, Lyat’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened.
“So the one who released the monsters into the Demon Realm was the Second Elder—Vincent?!”
“Yes.”
“But WHY?!”
Lucart looked at Nord once more, who shook his head—he didn’t know the exact reason either.
“We don’t know yet. But we’ll find him and drag the truth out.”
“Hah… those crazy bastards… ah, my head.”
“Also.”
Lucart continued, looking toward the staggering Lyat.
“They tried to kill Shekina.”
“…..”
Lyat immediately collapsed to the ground. Then the thought hit him. Kill? Who? Shekina? My baby?!
“Ah…”
His face twisted with rage.
“AAAHHH! Vincent, you son of a—! I’ll catch that bastard right this second! RIGHT NOW!”
Somehow, he seemed even angrier than when they were talking about the monsters.
Lucart felt oddly reassured that he wasn’t the only one feeling this way, and let out a silent laugh.
Unaware that Nord was quietly clicking his tongue at the sight of them all.
***
– The Count of the Daimon household and his party are with His Majesty.
– We’ve been told that His Highness the Prince is also expected to join.
Startled by the attendant’s message, Benita hurried to get ready.
He had wanted to rush over immediately, but after spending the whole day under the sun, he was drenched in sweat and couldn’t possibly show up like that.
Maybe with anyone else, it wouldn’t matter—but Shekina was going to be there. He couldn’t just stand next to her reeking of sweat.
After thoroughly freshening up and dousing himself in cologne, Benita finally made his way toward the greenhouse.
“But why is His Majesty meeting with them?”
“I’m not sure. From what I heard, His Majesty suddenly summoned someone named Arthur, and then the young lady afterward.”
His aide replied, following behind.
“Arthur? Why call him first? None of this makes any sense.”
The whole thing was beyond comprehension.
Well—he’d find out once he got there.
With that thought, Benita quickened his pace and soon arrived at the greenhouse where the Emperor and his guests were waiting.
“His Highness the Prince has arrived!”
Guided by the attendants, Benita strode in with confidence. His face carried a subtle pride—part of it from feeling proud of how well he’d grown, and part from being excited to have a chance to show off in front of Shekina.
“…….”
Of course, Shekina didn’t spare him a single glance.
Slightly deflated, Benita pouted and approached the Emperor.
“You summoned me, Your Majesty.”
“Yes.”
The Emperor lifted his teacup and responded without interest, then averted his gaze altogether—clearly refusing to engage in any conversation.
Benita was used to this kind of treatment. It had always been like this. Complaining now would be pointless. With a serene smile, he took a seat across from Shekina.
“So, Shekina. What were you and His Majesty discussing?”
Only then did Shekina tear her gaze away from the Emperor, whom she had been staring at intently, and look at Benita. His face was filled with clueless curiosity, and that only made her more frustrated.
“You want to know what we were talking about?”
Shekina smirked coldly.
“It wasn’t a conversation. I was being threatened.”
“…What?”
Benita blinked, stunned, but Shekina didn’t stop.
“He says he’ll kill us the moment we try to leave.”
“W-What… That can’t be…”
“What do you think, Your Highness?”
Benita’s eyes trembled as he glanced at the Emperor, who calmly sipped his tea. Slowly, the Emperor shifted his gaze downward to meet Benita’s eyes. Their eyes locked—and the Emperor’s lips curled into a faint, twisted smile.
“So, what’s your choice, Prince?”
Clink—
Setting down his teacup, the Emperor’s eyes gleamed sharply.
“Me—or these people?”
