After flubbing a powerful incantation, meant to give newly coronated Demon Queens the wisdom of their ancestors, Devilla Satanne awakens to memories of her past life as Jacob Divington, a human from Earth. Having gained a new perspective on life, she quickly comes to a rather horrifying conclusion: she's been a complete and utter brat! No wonder everyone hates her!
And then there's the fact that she's apparently been reincarnated as the villainess of Tower Conquest, a lesbian porn game with a surprisingly intricate plot. One in which the Heroine conquers Dimona Tower, turning Devilla's people against her in the process. In victory, the Heroine brings about a glorious age of peace between demons and humans for the first time in millennia. ...Which actually sounds pretty good for her people, come to think of it. Devilla knows her terrible behavior is beyond forgiveness, but maybe she can still make up for her past mistakes? She just needs to make sure the events of the game unfold correctly. Though there is one little detail she'd like to change - the part where Devilla herself is killed or enslaved!
This is a story about interpersonal relationships and inner struggles - a mix of comedy and inner drama. It follows a woman who has realized her own mistakes and doesn't think she can ever be forgiven for them, but who's still determined to try and make up for them. Devilla might be powerful, but there are some problems that can't be solved through magic and might alone.
It's worth noting that while this is a reincarnation tale, it's one where the current life's personality remains. Rather than becoming Jacob, Devilla simply learns from his memories and gains a new perspective. As such, no matter how much those memories have helped her change, Devilla feels that the mistakes she's made are hers alone.
"Just how big is this thing?" Jacob muttered, glaring at his computer. The words "Tower Conquest" were stretched across his screen, in large golden letters. Beneath that was the subtitle, "Can you take Dimona tower as your own?" and beneath that was a loading bar, which had been slowly filling up for the last fifteen minutes. It was still only at ninety percent, though it did tick over to ninety one even as he glared.
"...Maybe I should make a snack or something," Jacob sighed, glancing at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. It was apparently only two. Since it was the weekend, he didn't have to worry about how late he stayed up, either. In other words, he would have plenty of time to play. He was just being impatient.
"Guess I'll wait another minute…"
"What is the matter with you!?" I screamed, glaring at the maid in front of me.
"I-Is something the matter, my queen?" the maid asked me, causing me to glower even more harshly.
"You certainly have audacity to ask me that," I told her, looking her up and down. She was a lesser succubus, a demon whose ancestors had settled in the mortal realm some generations back. She had golden blonde hair, cut right above the shoulders, with a touch of curl at the end. A long cord-like tail, with a spade at the end, poked out from beneath the skirts of her dress, while black wings stretched out from her backless uniform. Her eyes, like all of her kind, were pure black, making it impossible to tell just where her pupils were focusing. It did seem like her eyes were directed downward, though, instead of at me. I was glad to see she knew her place.
"I-I'm not sure what you're talking about, Princess," the maid told me. Her voice was trembling, but the tray in her hands was perfectly steady. It was actually impressive that she managed to stay so composed in my powerful presence. Not that I intended to compliment a being who was so far below me.
"Your ignorance is part of the problem," I told her, before gesturing to the very tray she was holding. "What do you see on that plate?"
"E-eggs, bacon, and toast, Princess?" the maid said, brow furrowing. "Is that not what you ordered?"
"Of course it's what I ordered, you dimwit." My lips pulled back into a sneer as I spoke. From the look of confusion on the maid's face, it was clear she had no clue what my issue was. Which, of course, only made me more irritated.
"The toast," I said, magnanimously deciding to indicate the problem. Despite that, the maid's brow remained furrowed. "Are you seriously such an idiot that you can't recognize a problem even when it's pointed out to you?"
"I'm sorry, Princess," the maid said. "I really don't know what's wrong with it."
"I don't know how it could be more obvious," I complained, letting out a sigh. It seemed I would need to point out the flaw myself if I wanted anything done about it. "The toast is cut vertically; as my maid, you should know that I prefer it be done diagonally."
"I… I see, Princess… I'll go to the kitchen and get new toast, immediately."
"That's not good enough," I informed her, narrowing my eyes. Was this woman new? I didn't remember seeing her before, but that hardly meant anything. I never bothered to memorize the appearance of mere servants. "By the time you return to me with new toast, the breakfast will have cooled. Inform the head chef that I wish her to remake the entirety of my breakfast, so that I can enjoy it all at the proper temperature."
"Understood, Princess," the maid said, bending lightly at the knees and turning to leave.
"And if you bring me the wrong thing, again, I'll have you and the chef both thrown in the dungeon," I called after her.
The maid didn't respond, but I was sure she had heard me. Just as I was sure she would do as I asked. Unless she wanted to spend a few days in a cell, at least.
"Honestly," I sighed, shaking my head. "You'd think they could at least get my last meal as a princess right…" I just hoped they wouldn't make such a crucial mistake during dinner. If they got my first meal as the queen of Dimona Tower wrong, even I didn't know how I would handle it.
A small ding rang out from Jacob's speakers, telling him that the game had finished loading.
"About time," he grumbled, moving his mouse toward the start button. He was grinning, though. "Let's see… Right, we start with the classic scrolling text for the game's background. Lucy the heroine has trained her whole life to fight Devilla Satanne, the demon queen - well that's a porn name if I've ever heard one. Lucy has made a solo trip to the demon tower, against the wishes of the church… Yada yada yada… Bla bla bla… Alright. So it's like Alice said - a hundred and one floors, ten generals, and the demon queen as the final boss. You seriously wouldn't know this was a porn game from the description, though… Guess that's why they put warnings all over the store page."
Jacob waited for the scrolling text to finish, then left clicked to start the game. Despite being porn, the game had a surprising amount of combat. The heroine, Lucy, had to work her way through a narrow passageway, slowly climbing up the tower, defeating demons with her sword as she went.
Most of the climb was fairly monotonous, with only the floor counter in the upper left corner telling the player how far they had progressed. Every tenth floor, however, the passageway would open up into a wide area; the boss room. From there, one had the option of either trying to seduce the demon general through dialogue, or just jumping straight to combat. Either way victory ended with the demon general submitting to Lucy, having sex with her, and then giving her part of their magic power so that she'd be strong enough to fight her way through the next ten floors. The dialogue boxes seemed to ignore the hacking and slashing Lucy had been doing so far, with the generals and Lucy both treating it as if she'd simply incapacitated all the demons she'd met so far.
The combat was exciting for Jacob. So was the dialogue, though in a very different way. Combined with the fact that every demon in the tower seemed to be a hot girl, Jacob could see why Alice had recommended the game to him. She knew Jacob was almost as fond of lesbian porn as she was, after all.
"Though it's sort of strange how all most of the demons just look like different types of monster girls," Jacob had to admit.
I held out my arms, allowing my maids to examine me carefully for any defects in my state of dress. My outfit was pure white, with a pleated skirt that stopped just short of my knees and a backless, armless top that hugged my breasts and showed off all my curves. All of it had been tailored to fit me perfectly, and it had even been adjusted the very day before, so there was little doubt of it fitting right. This was my coronation, though, and there was no room for error.
"Everything looks wonderful, Princess," one of my maids declared. She was a lamia, a lady with the bottom half of a snake and an upper half that was mostly human. She was also one of the many demons that served me - not a true demon, like the lesser succubus who'd delivered my breakfast, but it was all the same so far as the human church was concerned. If you weren't a human, you were a demon, and that was all there was to it.
"I have your shoes ready, Princess," another of my maids told me. This one was something of a rarity: a unicorn girl, with hair as white as white as my own, if only half as long, and a single pale horn growing from her forehead. She was holding out a pair of high heels, which of course also matched the white motif. I stepped into the proffered shoes without comment, slipping my toes through the open ends and allowing my unicorn maid to strap them on.
"Your generals are ready, Princess!" yet another maid called, opening the doorway. I couldn't see many of her features from where I was standing, but she seemed to have a faint green tinge to her skin. Perhaps a goblin, then? I didn't care enough to check.
"Let them be ready," I told the maid. A faintly ticklish sensation spread across my back, then disappeared. I heard a faint gasp from one of my maids, and it brought a smile to my lips. It was always like this when I manifested my wings. I was sure they looked magnificent today, as always - each feather as dark as the void itself.
"I'll make my way to the throne room at my own pace."
Jacob let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He'd managed to seduce the final general, which was good. According to Alice, if you entered combat with her it wouldn't end until she was completely destroyed. In other words, there wouldn't have been a sex scene.
"Though it's not exactly like I really have time to enjoy it, anyway," Jacob groused to himself. It was almost seven A.M. Jacob had been playing nonstop since the night before, something he would never have done if it hadn't been the first day of his weekend. He was tired, and desperately wanted to sleep, but he was so close to finishing the game that he couldn't quite bring himself to stop playing. True, he was more or less numbly skipping through the majority of the dialogue, at this point. He wasn't even paying full attention to the sex scenes. The game let you make a save file whenever you defeated a general, though, so once the sex scene was unlocked you could simply reload the file and run through it all over again. Even if he didn't have the energy to enjoy it during this play through, being able to go through it at his leisure later would be well worth the trouble.
"Next up is the demon queen..." From what Jacob had read, the generals were only capitulating to the heroine because Devilla herself was so terrible to them. Even Lucy herself seemed to view the demons as pitiable victims of Devilla, true villainess. It made Jacob wonder just how bad the woman really was.
I walked into the throne room with a smile on my lips. I was calm, and confident. The coronation was barely more than a formality to me, after all. I already wielded supreme power over my people, and had since I was mere thirteen hours old. Indeed, there was only one part of this ceremony that held any real importance to me, and that was the Rite of Insight: a holy spell that would grant me access to an archive of knowledge. It had been passed down from demon queen to demon queen. Now that I was twenty one, it would finally be mine.
My generals were already waiting for me, naked and kneeling in a display of vulnerability and submission. A wooden stand had been placed in front of the throne, and atop it was a small box, made of pure gold. It would open only for a member of the royal line, and it contained the spell that would cement my position as a great and powerful demon queen.
Of course first I had to listen to the orator discuss our history. She was a wolf woman, with a bushy tail and furry ears. She was likely quite beautiful during her own time, but her long and wild hair had long since turned grey with age, and her face bore deep wrinkles. She had held the position of orator since my mother's time, making her something of an oddity. Almost everyone else who held a position in that administration, including all but one of my generals, had either resigned or been let go.
"We begin the story with the Fallen One - Luci…" The orator's voice droned on, and I found my thoughts drifting within moments. I knew most of the story already, anyhow. How long ago humans and demons, then known simply as monster girls, had warred over territory. How the angels above had declared humanity the goddess's chosen ones, even though the goddess herself had long since gone on a journey. What's more, the angels went and created the heroine, a human woman who actually absorbed magic power from the demons she killed. Even killing her did no good - another one would simply be born nine months later.
That was what caused Luci, my ancestor, to grow angry with her sisters' favoritism. Unable to turn them aside from their new path, she chose to fall from grace and descend to earth. She gathered the monster girls under her banner, helping them to fight back against the humans and their angel backing. She also chose not to fight the humans herself, however, turning her power only on the angels' aberration of a chosen heroine. Despite being made queen, her goal was to counterbalance her sisters' influence, not to eradicate humanity or lead the monster girls to supreme victory. Her descendents followed the same principle, only going to battle against the heroine, and only when the power of the angels' had grown strong enough within her.
Of course, that refusal to take part in battle was a big part of why our territory had been reduced to a single tower. One in the middle of a wasteland, no less, thanks to the last heroine unleashing a rather large amount of holy magic.
She was the one who'd taken my mother, too, when I was a mere thirteen hours old. I hated the entire thrice damned line of heroines, but I hated her the most. Jodeyne. It was all her fault that we were in such dire straits. It certainly wasn't because of anything I'd done.
Try telling that to my people, though. True, my mother likely could have led us to more victories had she not been pregnant with me. And yes, she likely wouldn't have died in battle against the heroine if she hadn't been weakened from childbirth. But to blame me for the state we were in? It wasn't my fault that we'd made no progress reclaiming our lands. I was constantly ordering the generals to do something about it, so saying I hadn't been doing my part was just ridiculous.
"And that of course leads us to our current princess: Devilla Satanne, she who will soon become queen."
The orator was staring at me. It seemed she'd finally finished droning on. My turn.
"My name is Devilla Satanne," I say, my voice serious despite the smile on my lips. "My mother was Grimmilla Satanne. My ancestor was the Fallen One, known as Luci, who took the name Satanne from her mortal wife. Right now, I stand before you as a princess. In mere moments, I will stand before you as your queen."
With those words spoken, I reached out to touch the golden box. It was warm beneath my fingers, and I could feel something like an electric current running through my fingertips as I touched it. Carefully taking each side of the lid into my hands, I looked about to make sure that all eyes were upon me.
No one moved, or even made a sound, as I reached into the golden vessel to pull out a small scroll of parchment. Opening it revealed three sentences, written in a language I did not understand. I didn't need to understand the words, though; so long as I read them phonetically I would be fine. Once the Rite of Insight had granted me the knowledge of past demon queens, I would be able to translate this and any other holy writing with ease. I'd even be able to cast holy magic of my own.
Smiling, I thought of all the power at my fingertips, and began to read the words.
"Aloosh verocka devort magnina foruus. Groona, sellis rone essel dorma dorfus noga gillar, divi woon yuul queel maka yota walla ipsiin ritell. Woon deen maka oon det devort ackella."
Wait, no - that last word was supposed to be ackello.
Jacob sighed in relief, leaning back against his chair. He'd finally done it. He'd beaten the game. It had taken him all night, and most of the next morning, but it wasn't like he had anywhere to go that day.
"That last fight against Devilla was seriously hard, though," he complained to himself. Even with power from all ten generals, it still felt like Lucy had been at a disadvantage during the fight. The queen had seemed able to cast a seemingly endless number of spells, on top of having an intense physical attack that could shave away huge amounts of the heroine's HP. To top it all off, if you actually wanted the sex scene, you needed to take Devilla down to the red and hold her there for ten minutes of real time.
"And she could heal herself, too… Ah, well, it was worth it in the end. Though I can't help but feel a little weird about that ending…" Unlike with the generals, Lucy hadn't been content to let the demon queen off with just a promise to reform and make peace with humans. Instead, Lucy had put a divine collar around Devilla's neck. The enchanted item not only sealed the demon queen's magic, but also forced her to obey a variety of commands. The once powerful demon queen ended up as little more than a slave.
"Well, maybe I won't do a replay on that particular scene… At least it's over, and I can finally go to bed."
It was at that moment that Jacob's phone rang.
My body began to glow. A flash of light filled the windowless room, rushing past the kneeling figures before me and filling the entire room. The light remained only for a moment before folding in on itself. Inky darkness rushed back towards me. Then it was over, as quickly as it had begun, and I was simply standing in a moderately well lit room.
"What…" My mouth was dry. My head was pounding. What had just happened? I remembered casting the Rite of Insight, and getting the last line wrong. Then there had been a phone call…? Yes, I had been called into work. One of the bag boys had called in sick, and my blowhard of a boss had absolutely insisted I come in. Except… Except who in their right mind would call a princess in to work as a bag boy?
Something was off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something was definitely off. I tried to think back to how my day had started.
I'd been delivered breakfast, but the maid had brought me something unacceptable.
No, that wasn't right - I… I had stayed up all night playing a game, no? And then I'd gotten a phone call… It was my boss, demanding I come into work. Something about one of the other bag boys quitting? He'd insisted, refusing to listen to any complaints, and I'd reluctantly agreed.
Who would make a princess come into work on her coronation day, though? What would he have done if I'd been late to the ceremony as a result? I was just lucky that I'd finished my shift in time.
Did I finish my shift, though? I remembered being so sleepy that I could hardly keep my eyes open while driving. But I didn't remember actually arriving at work, yet alone finishing the day.
I was starting to get a headache. No. Not starting to - I had one. It felt like someone was trying to break my head open from the inside. My legs began to shake, and my knees to give way. It took every ounce of my willpower not to scream, even as I drove my black nails against my scalp and desperately tried to hold myself together.
Around me, the generals stayed in place. Even as I myself crumpled to the floor, they waited for the signal to rise. A distant corner of my mind wondered just how much these people feared me, and what I had done to deserve it. True, I had a tendency of throwing tantrums. Yes, I tended to bully any girl who thought she was prettier than me. If I was to be brutally honest, perhaps I'd even thrown a few people in the dungeon. But surely none of that was uncalled for from a demon queen? Surely they wouldn't just leave me to die, for lack of an order? Yet, still, the kneeling generals around me refused to move.
The pain was getting worse. My vision was starting to go dark, and my nails were digging deep enough into my scalp that I was beginning to worry I'd draw blood. With no other recourse, I managed to swallow my pride and whisper, "Help," a moment before finally passing out. Yet, even in the darkness, there was still that splitting pain.
I sat upright in bed, gripping the pink comforter tight enough to make my knuckles white. Before I could even open my mouth to call for help, a maid was already standing by my bed. "My queen? Are you alright?"
I gave a slow nod in response, not trusting myself to speak. The pain that had been threatening to tear me apart was gone, but in its place was a maelstrom of confusion, and scrambled memories that I could hardly piece together. The Rite of Insight… It was supposed to give me the knowledge of my ancestors. Despite my flubbing the last phrase, it had apparently worked - at least, if you were willing to stretch the definition of "ancestors" to include past lives. It was having nineteen years of new memories shoved into an twenty one year old head that gave me such a splitting headache, and caused me to pass out. Even now that things had settled, there were still a lot of memories to sort out.
I had apparently been a man in my last life, for one thing. My name had been Jacob Divington. I was, at the time, a high school graduate. I'd worked as a bag boy, trying to save up some money, and I'd held a vague plan to go to college. I'd lived in my parents' basement. And I'd died in what I could only imagine to be a car crash, after falling asleep at the wheel on my way to work.
It was sort of a pain that I'd died, but since I recovered all my memories in this new life it hardly seemed to matter. Even if it was strange to go from straight human male to lesbian demon queen, I'd in all honesty already spent twenty one years like this and it wasn't like I'd ever held complaints before. I was starting to realize that I had been a bit of a spoiled brat up until this point, in fact, so if anyone should have been complaining it was the staff around me.
There was one thing that worried me, though. That game I had been playing before death, Tower Conquest. It had taken place within the Dimona tower, where I now lived. It had involved defeating ten demon generals, all of whom I recognized from my own life. And the demon queen, who was treated to such a cruel fate at the end of the game, had been named Devilla Satanne.
For a moment, I was desperately tempted to deny it. I wanted to roll about screaming and crying, like the brat I had been this entire life so far. At the same time, I wanted to curse my past self for being such a terrifyingly arrogant individual that even my own demon generals would turn against me. Anger and despair both welled up within me, fighting for dominance, and for several moments I could only stare at my delicate looking hands. The hands of a demon queen.
Eventually I had to face the truth, though. I had been reborn as the villainess of a porn game. Not only that, but I was already the same age as the Devilla in Tower Conquest. That meant I had less than a year until the heroine came for my head.
With no other choice, I turned my thoughts toward survival. I desperately wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but there was no time for that. I had less than a year to either find a way to save my people from extinction, defeat the heroine, or simply escape the tower.
The first option seemed impossible. Even with two lives to draw on, I was still working with only the combined experiences of a spoiled princess and a bag boy. The second option, meanwhile, felt pointless. If my generals all ended up supporting the heroine, then it would hardly matter whether I won or not. My life as a queen would already be over.
In that case, wouldn't it be best to simply escape the tower? It seemed pretty selfish, at first glance, but it wasn't as if my presence was actually helping my fellow demons. Most of the time I only managed to get in the way. If I left, my generals would be free to run the country as they wished. They might even be able to find a way to defend against the heroine, and maintain sovereignty.
...Though, really, that would only be delaying the inevitable. There'd still be another heroine, after all, and the next one might not be so compassionate. If we ended up with a particularly vicious one, and there wasn't a demon queen there to face her, demonkind really could end up getting wiped from the map.
Even if I wasn't doing the best job of getting along with my people, I didn't want to see them killed. If possible, I wanted those who'd been supporting me so far to live happy lives. Ideally, they would be able to achieve the same peace with humanity that they found in the game. Just without the part where I lose to Lucy.
I considered the matter for several moments, trying to examine the issue from different angles. I couldn't run away. If my generals weren't desperate to be rid of me, there was simply no way they'd accept working with Lucy. Defeating Lucy, on the other hand, would leave me with ten weakened generals who hated me. Even if I managed to hold onto power and replace them all, after the fact, it was likely that the church would take advantage of our weakened state, whether they had a heroine or not. Replacing the generals preemptively wouldn't do me much good, either, Even if I could find powerful enough replacements, who actually liked me, there'd be no chance to train them for the job. Removing ten experienced generals in favor of ten inexperienced sycophants wasn't going to do me much good in battle.
I needed a way to secure my people's future without sacrificing my own. It was a tall order, and for a long moment I couldn't think of anything.
Then it hit me. A slow smile began to spread across my lips, gradually transforming into a manic grin. If I wanted to secure a future for my people, I needed my generals to rebel against me. If I wanted to avoid meeting a bad end, I needed to run away. I had been looking at those two things as mutually exclusive - but why? Yes, I did need to be present for them to rebel against me, but I didn't need to be present after they rebelled against me. So long as I was there when Lucy entered the tower I could simply give a hysterical command for my demons to protect me, then run away in secret. Even if my people eventually realized I wasn't there anymore, it would be too late for them to put together a better offensive, or designate a new leader. They'd have no choice but to take Lucy's offer of peace.
But what would happen to me? Running away meant losing my place in this world. With all of demonkind hating me, I'd have no choice but to hide among humans.
That wouldn't actually be impossible, though. Since this world didn't have photographs, most humans would have no idea what I looked like. A little hair dye would cover up my pure white hair. I could pass my nails off as painted, and avoid manifesting my wings. My purple eyes might still catch attention, but since Lucy herself had orange eyes I didn't think that it would be a dealbreaker. The only real concern I had was how I'd manage to support myself. Perhaps as an adventurer? I could exterminate monsters, guard caravans, or perhaps gather out of the way magical ingredients. Even hiding my inhuman strength, I could still boast magical strength far beyond what a human could muster.
I only had one real concern about this plan of action. Namely, I feared that I might be a little lacking in what this world viewed as common sense. I didn't know how to cook, for example - not without what I still thought of as a modern oven or stove. I also didn't know how to wash my own clothes without a washing machine. And then there were considerations such as the name of local currency or the price of common goods and services. I could maybe get past the last two, by pretending to be a foreigner, but bluffing wouldn't help to clean my clothes or fill my belly.
My preferred way of handling this would be to simply learn the skills for myself in the time I had left. Cooking was my main priority, followed by cleaning. I could thankfully already sew, if only barely, thanks to the home ec lessons I'd taken as Jacob. Still, I wasn't going to turn down the chance to improve that, either.
How exactly was I supposed to master these skills, though? As queen, I couldn't exactly head into the kitchen and simply start making dinner. I'd draw far too much attention - and far too many questions. Even if I used a spell to blend in with the staff, I'd either get called out as an unfamiliar face, or "fired" for my inability to do the job.
I needed a teacher. Someone who knew the profession, of course. Someone who I could control, and keep silent. Someone no one would raise an eyebrow at seeing, whether they were walking into my bedroom, or busying themselves in the kitchens.
It didn't take me long to come up with an answer. Compared to trying to figure out how to save both my people and my skin, this one was quite obvious. In fact, the answer was making a very big point of not staring at me in the face.
Turning my attention to the maid who'd spent this entire time standing silently by my side, I gave her a quick once over. She was a lesser succubus, with golden blonde hair that had been cut right above the shoulders, and a little curl at the end of her tresses. I thought perhaps I recognized her, but it was difficult to say. I had never paid attention to my maids before now. But that was about to change.
I let my frown shift into another smile. The maid seemed to stiffen for a moment, and I thought for half an instant that I was somehow seeing terror in those pitch black eyes of hers. It was probably just my imagination, though.
"Hey you," I started, wishing I'd bothered to learn this one's name. "How would you like to be my personal maid?"
"My queen? Are you alright?" I asked. I was careful to keep my head bowed, and my eyesight focused on the bed instead of the queen herself. Looking directly at Devilla was a good way to get slapped, and that was when she was just a princess. I didn't want to imagine what she'd do to me for looking at her now that she was queen.
Or rather, I really wanted to imagine it, and in depth too, but probably not until I was off work. Getting my panties soaked in arousal while on the job was a big no-no for me. Professionalism was important, after all.
My question got a nod from Devilla, but nothing else. Usually she'd spout some nonsense about how great she was, and then maybe threaten to throw me in the dungeon for doubting her. The fact that she just nodded, instead, was actually a little concerning. Whatever happened at the coronation must have taken a lot out of her.
I wished I could offer her some sympathy, but I knew full well that it would just end up being thrown in my face. Again I wouldn't really mind that, but it would all be over for me if the queen realized I liked that sort of treatment. There was no telling how she'd react if she found out a commoner was getting off to her.
After nodding, the princess went absolutely silent. Standing next to her, my head was still bowed but my eyes were no longer downcast. Actually I was looking right at her, but I was willing to bet she couldn't tell. Since my eyes were pure black, it was nearly impossible to guess where my pupils were actually focused. Not that it was without risk. Thoughts of the princess feeling my gaze flitted through my mind, as I waited for her to command or dismiss me, and I couldn't help but shiver in delight at the thought of what she might do. Oops. I hoped she'd mistake it for fear.
The silence dragged on. The princess didn't seem to care about my shivering and at this point I was more or less staring at her, though I was careful to keep my head bowed so that it looked like I was studying the bed, instead. I was starting to wonder how long I'd be forced to stand there, in silence, when the princess's frown suddenly morphed into an evil grin. I wasn't sure what was going through her mind, but I could only hope that whatever plan she'd just concocted wouldn't involve too many victims. Just me would be fine, though.
I expected her to give me an order after grinning like that, but she didn't. Instead, she started to frown again, apparently lost in thought. Had she hit a snag? It didn't seem to last long, because soon she was grinning again.
Grinning, and looking right at me.
"Hey you," she said. "How would you like to be my personal maid?"
My head snapped up from its bowed position, and I stared at her in shock. I knew that I was asking for trouble, doing that, but I didn't really care. She'd either slap me for my insubordination, or take back the offer. Maybe both, which would be something of a double win.
She did neither. She just looked at me expectantly, as if she were honestly waiting for me to reply. But how exactly was I supposed to respond to this? In the first place, wasn't such a position supposed to be filled by members of the upper echelons? Like, the daughter of a general, or at least the granddaughter of a very wealthy merchant. I was just the daughter of a prostitute. Making connections with my family wouldn't do anything for her!
Wait. Maybe she didn't know that my family was poor? That seemed likely, actually, considering she didn't even know my name. She probably just assumed I was someone of some use. Then if I told her the truth, maybe I could get out of it?
I bowed my head, again, and then snuck a glance at Devilla's face. She was staring at me, still, with a soft smile on her lips. It looked almost gentle, but I wasn't fooled. She was definitely plotting to hurt me if I didn't do what she asked.
Well, unfortunately for her, I actually enjoyed that kinda thing.
"I'm just the daughter of a prostitute, my queen," I explained, keeping my voice soft and respectful. "I'm not worthy of such a position."
I figured that would be enough to get me out of it. As much as I loved being abused, I didn't think I'd be able to maintain my composure if I had to deal with it full time. Besides, while it was a joy to be punished, it was even better getting to dish out punishments to the naughty women who came to see me on my off days, during which I worked at my mother's brothel. While they didn't pay nearly as much as I got just from working as a maid to the princess, the lust they gave off was as much a part of my diet as the physical food I bought with my pay.
To my surprise, however, Devilla gave me a broad smile and said, "That is of no concern to me. In fact, knowing you come from a common background makes me want you even more."
Well crap. I wasn't sure why she wanted someone of common birth, but I didn't think she had anything good planned. It wasn't like I could say no, though, when the queen herself was asking me to be her personal maid. My last hope was to get the queen to change her mind. For that, I only had one weapon at my disposal: honesty. Or partial honesty, at least.
"If I worked here full time, I wouldn't be able to eat," I told her, speaking slowly, as if explaining myself to a child. I knew that I was being insubordinate, but I'd pretty much accepted that I was going to be punished for this. As long as I didn't actually get fired, everything was fine. "I'm a succubus, you know. I need to have plenty of sex to survive. That's why I work as a prostitute on my off days."
"I see," Devilla murmured, much to my surprise. From the face she was making, you'd think she was actually considering what I had to say. I had mostly expected her to get mad at me for not agreeing off the bat, and to pull the offer back as "punishment."
"Then, in that case… Would sex with me be acceptable? We could do it whenever you got hungry."
"I…" Sleep with her? I didn't want to sleep with her! For one thing, as far as I knew, the demon queen had absolutely no experience in sex whatsoever. Up until now, she'd always complained that there was nobody worthy of her attention. I didn't know why she'd suddenly decided a maid was worthy, but she was probably going to be bad in bed. And I couldn't imagine her being open to tips on the subject, either.
"I'm really not worthy," I said. "You'd definitely be better asking one of the other maids. I can introduce you to a good one? Rackeel's mother is a wealthy merchant, so I'm sure she'd be a better fit for you."
"No!" For some reason, Devilla sounded a touch frantic in her response, and it was hard not to raise an eyebrow at it. "I mean… I want you."
"I'm flattered, your majesty," I lied, trying not to gnash my teeth in frustration. "Can I think about it? My shift is almost over, and I'm growing quite hungry…"
"In that case, why don't I feed you myself?" Devilla suggested, tossing off her comforter and standing "Unless that's a problem, of course?"
Dammit! Why had I said I was hungry? I could have kicked myself. There was no taking it back, though. I couldn't just tell the queen that I thought she'd be bad in bed, either, so I reluctantly gave her a little curtsy and moved to undress her.
The dress she wore was buttoned in the back. Most demon clothing is built with an eye toward easy removal, especially among us succubi, but this outfit was for the coronation so it prioritized looks over function. That's why the buttons weren't just in the back, but were somewhat tiny, and difficult to undo. It took me almost three minutes just to get them all off.
Once that was done, though, it was a simple matter of tugging the top off Devilla's shoulders, and then pushing the rest down to the floor. Within half a second of the final button being undone, I had a naked queen standing before me.
It wasn't my first time seeing her naked, of course. I'd helped Devilla undress plenty of times. It was a little different, though, knowing she was naked for me. I'd never appreciated just how fat her ass was, for example. It looked like a single slap would cause it to jiggle beautifully, and I had to physically grab hold of my wrist to hold it back.
The front wasn't half bad either. She had a slender waist, small enough that I could reach around it with a single arm. Her pussy was clean shaven, but you could see a touch of white stubble right above her tight slit. Her breasts were big melons, the sort that would sit heavy on your palm, and her nipples were quite pronounced. They were stiff, too, and judging from how warm the room was I didn't think it was from the cold. Looking again at her slit I could see a faint glistening, liquid reflecting the room's torchlight.
"Does my form displease you?" Devilla asked. She sounded somewhat hesitant. "I… I will understand if you do not wish to sleep with me," she added. She sounded almost nervous. It was… Cute? I'd never thought of the queen as cute before.
"You look gorgeous," I told her, honestly. "I just can't believe I'm about to fuck a queen…"
Ah. Maybe I shouldn't be using such rough language in front of the queen? She was smiling, though, so maybe it was fine? In fact, she was coming toward me for some reason.
"Now it is my turn to undress you," she declared, reaching out to gently take my hands with hers.
"I couldn't ask you to do that," I protested, trying to pull my hands back. Her grip was light, so it should have been simple. It should have been, but it was like my fingers were caught in an iron vice. I knew the queen was strong, but seriously?
"Please…" Devilla said. "I want to pull my own weight tonight."
"I… If you wish, my queen," I replied. I wasn't entirely sure what to say, honestly. It was just plain weird that the queen was showing consideration for me.
My response made Devilla smile, for some reason, and she immediately circled around me. Was she looking for buttons? She wasn't going to find any. My dress was backless, for one thing, and not nearly as fancy as her's besides.
None of that seemed to be a setback for Devilla, though. Since my dress was largely held on by a loop around my neck, she took a hold of it and pulled it gently over my head. That alone was enough to let my dress fall to the floor. I wasn't wearing a bra beneath, either; just a pair of black panties, which I expected her to go after next. Instead the queen slipped her arms around my chest and grabbed a hold of my breasts.
"Eek!" I squeaked, almost jumping in surprise. My breasts weren't big like the queen's - they were maybe just barely a b-cup, more than enough to fill someone's palms but pretty lacking when compared to the queen's double Ds. The trade off to that was that my tits were ridiculously sensitive. Just having my nipples rub against the fabric of my dress was often enough to make me squirm. Having my breasts groped, like the queen was doing, was enough to make my knees go weak. And then her thumbs moved, ever so gently brushing against my nipples before moving to trace about the inner edge of my areola.
"Does it feel good?" the queen whispered, leaning in to press her breasts against my back. Her lips were less than an inch from my ear, and I could feel her warm breath against my skin. Without warning, she leaned in to ever so gently bite my earlobe, pinching and tugging with her teeth. The little bit of pain, mixed with the pleasure of her fingers, caused an embarrassing noise to slip from between my lips.
The queen laughed, releasing me and stepping back. I turned as well, wanting to be face to face with her so that she couldn't pull off another surprise attack. The moment I turned to her, though, she casually grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into the air, throwing me down atop her rather large bed. When I tried to sit up, she placed a hand gently on my shoulder. I said gently, but the strength she put in it was inhuman, and she was able to pin me down without any apparent effort.
"Forgive me if I'm a little rusty," the queen said, crawling into bed atop me. Her thighs squeezed themselves flush against mine, and her face was right above mine. She was leaning down toward me, and I realized with a start that she intended to kiss me.
Her lips, when they reached me, were soft and sweet. Her hair smelled like the flowers that sometimes - rarely - came across the market. As surprising as it was to be kissed by her, it wasn't at all a bad experience. I was actually starting to relax and lean into it, when my defenses were breached by an unexpected attack. Her tongue had entered my mouth. It teased against the roof of my mouth, sliding across my teeth and teasing itself against my own tongue for a moment, before pulling back.
Then she separated from me, a big grin on her face. I thought she intended to get off me, at first, but instead she pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees. That put her pussy directly above my lips, hanging wet and tantalizing above me. It also put her directly above my own slit.
"Uh - my queen? Are you doing what I think you're doing?" I asked, hardly able to believe it. Devilla was a talented enough kisser, to my surprise, but going down on someone was an entirely different matter. The taste, and the smell, were both pleasant to me but personal tastes varied wildly and it could be a bit overwhelming for a newcomer.
"I am," Devilla declared. She sounded faintly smug. "Is that a problem?"
"N-no… Not a problem," I responded, careful with my words. "I'm honored to be your first, actually, but are you really sure you want it to be me? I could just eat you out, if you want. That's more than enough to feed me." Actually, I didn't even need sex to feed, just lust. There was plenty of that wafting off the queen. It was so thick in the air I could almost taste it.
"Nonsense," the queen protested, giving a faint shake of her head. I couldn't actually see it, from my current angle, but I could feel her hair shifting against my thigh. "I want you to feel good, after all."
That last part caught me fully off guard. I could only stare at her in shock. And while I was staring silently at her, she made her move. Lowering her head to kiss my slit, she nipped ever so faintly against my inner thigh, before licking the spot and then biting it again. Using one hand to support herself on the bed, she used the other to begin rubbing up and down my thigh. Each rub seemed to take her hand a little closer to my center. I was already wet, but the anticipation of her finally touching me was moving me toward drenched.
Where the hell did Queen Devilla learn this? I wondered, too shocked to make my own move. I knew full well she was a virgin, and even succubi didn't have natural talent like this. While I was wondering about that, though, Devilla's hand grew ever closer to its final destination. Not just her hand, either: her kisses and nips were also climbing up my thigh, and I couldn't tell whether her hand or lips would reach me first.
It turned out to be a tie. Her fingers touched my outer labia at the same time as her lips reached the other side. From there, both closed in on my inner folds, her teeth ever-so-barely pinching at them, while her fingers moved further in, rubbing at the very edge of my opening. I was sopping wet by that point, more than capable of taking a finger or two, and Devilla moved immediately to slide her forefinger right in. My walls squeezed down on the slender intruder, as if trying to prevent her access, but between her strength and my wetness it was a useless fight. She squirmed her way inside me, right up to the hilt.
Then she moved her thumb. Having expected an attack from her lips, I was completely unprepared for her to make contact with my clit. The way her short trimmed nail gently teased its way into the narrow space between my clitoris and its hood, though, I'd never have thought that this was her first time having sex. She swiftly, expertly, coaxed my clitoris entirely out from under its hood. Then, to my surprise, she pulled her thumb away.
"My q-" I started to ask what she was planning, but froze when her lips sealed themselves around my freshly exposed clit. Sucking softly at the oh-so-sensitive flesh, she made a point of bringing her teeth close enough to bite, even going so far as to let my clit touch her teeth. I shivered a little, thinking she might just nip me, again, and I wasn't sure if it was fear or anticipation. Regardless, the bite never came. Instead, her tongue darted out to touch my clit, then retracted again. She did this several times, and each touch made me feel like lightning was shooting through my core. There was a heat building in my center, and it was threatening to overwhelm me if she kept it up.
Then her lips parted from my flesh and her thumb took their place, the flat of it teasing my button in a slow circle before ever so barely pressing in. The contact, and the pressure, was enough to elicit a soft moan from my lips. When she removed her thumb completely, though, that turned into a whimper. I was getting close to the edge by that point, so hot that I felt my insides might melt, and I didn't understand why she was stopping. Was she messing with me? Was this entire thing some twisted form of punishment? What crime had I committed to be so denied? I wanted to ask, to beg her for more, but I couldn't. Devilla was the queen, after all, and I was just a maid. If this was what she wanted to do to me, there was no stopping it.
I had to bite my lip to stop from whining as Devilla's finger pulled out of me. I was almost sure this entire thing was just some cruel prank, by that point, but there was nothing I could do about it. The only thing that confused me was the lust I still felt emanating from Devilla. It hadn't gone down at all; in fact, it was getting stronger by the second.
With Devilla's own pussy filling my field of vision, I couldn't see what the queen was up to. I couldn't see, but I could still feel her hair sliding across my thigh as she moved her head. That was the only warning I had, before her lips sealed themselves upon my sex, and her tongue pushed its way into my opening.
The movement of Devilla's tongue was hesitant, at first, in a way her other movement's hadn't been. She seemed to gain confidence quickly, though, and soon she was taking long languid licks, pushing her tongue in deep. While her fingers had elicited electrifying pleasure from my body, her tongue had its own appeal. It was warm, and soft, and its gentle attention caused the heat inside my body to swell. I was close to cumming, moving faster and faster toward the edge, and all she had to do was keep it up.
It seemed like Devilla wouldn't be content with just that, though. She drew her tongue back from my pussy and moved again to kiss my clit. Her tongue pressed against it, a long lick that moved up to the hood and then even further, brushing against my sweat-slicked blonde landing strip. Then she lowered her head again, sucking lightly at my clit. I was so preoccupied, I didn't even notice when her fingers moved to penetrate me once more. Not until she shoved two of them inside me.
The sudden entrance, combined with the long kiss to my clit, was enough to send me tumbling over the edge. The world went white as my head slammed back against the bed. I was only distantly aware of my body, and the fact that it was letting out a seemingly endless scream.
When I came back to my senses, Devilla was no longer on top of me. She was sitting on the bed with a smug smile on her lips, and a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. It was only then that I realized I'd completely neglected to return the favor. And now I had missed my chance…
"I-I'm sorry my queen," I said, starting to sit up.
"For what?" Devilla asked, lifting an eyebrow. She sounded honestly confused.
"For not pleasuring you back?" I reminded her. I expected punishment to follow, once I brought it to her attention, but what I'd done was honestly inexcusable. Failing to bring someone pleasure was a serious thing.
To my surprise, however, the queen shook her head. "That is fine," she said. "If anything, I should be apologizing to you for pushing myself on you so suddenly. In the end, I never even asked you your name…"
"...It's Abigail, my queen." I tried to get up, so that I could at least give some sort of bow, but the queen placed a hand on my thigh to stop me.
"Abigail," she said, looking at me straight in the eyes. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my personal maid?
For a moment, I wasn't sure what to say. I'd figured it was a done deal. I'd already submitted to her in bed, more or less, so I expected her to just override any complaints. Instead Queen Devilla was asking me. Just what had gotten into her?
"...If… If you'll have me." Maybe it was the delightful sex. Maybe it was the fact that she'd given me a choice. Either way, I honestly felt like there was only one answer I could give her.
It was a definite yes.
Long after Abigail had left for the night, I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. I'd just had sex for the first time in my life. The first time in this life, at least - I'd done it plenty back when I'd been Jacob. It was a little different, without a dick, but I thought I'd done at least a passable job of it. It seemed like it had been enough to make Abigail say yes to my offer, at least.
With that, I had secured a teacher for myself. Someone who could train me in how to cook, clean, and sew. I hoped we could get along… but I wasn't really expecting it. In fact, I was rather sure she hated me.
After all, regardless of what pleasure I had or hadn't brought her, Abigail had not touched me even once.
Hi there~! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of Demon Queened! This is a series I've been working on for a while, and one I'm pretty proud of! I've written up to chapter 13, at this point, and I'm planning to release a chapter a day until I've gotten this site caught up with the rest! After that, content will slow a bit - my goal is to finish at least one chapter a month, but (as you'll soon find out) most of the chapters are quite large, so sometimes it takes me longer than I'd like. The chapters stay on my Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread.
Chapters 1-10 represent volume 1 of this series, and I'm currently working on getting them revised, edited, polished, and published. I've only finalized chapters 1 and 2 so far, and they've both been published to my Patreon for early reading. The chapters there are more or less the same in content, but are higher quality due to me gaining more experience as a writer, and having gained an editor part way through the series. There's also some relatively minor (but still important) changes, reflecting what I've learned about the characters through writing them.
If you're curious, the
Me realizing that Abigail wasn't truly sadomasochistic at all, and me trying to make it clearer that Devilla is still Devilla - she didn't become Jacob after recovering her past life memories, and her personality didn't merge with his. It's simply that she gained a new perspective of the world around her, and was able to understand the importance of empathy, the joy of inter-personal relationships, and the brattiness of her own behavior. It's something I've continued trying to make clear as the series has gone on, but I fear I didn't do a great job of it in the original version of chapter 1.
Bonus trivia: Luci and Lucy having such similar names was actually a careless mistake on my part. People found it amusing, though, so I left it unchanged.
It's there, too, actually. From my understanding, however, you are allowed to post mature things on this forum so long as you tag them properly and follow certain rules. This story is certainly erotic in nature, but it's not porn. (Yes, the synopsis specifically mentions a porn game, but the series itself is focused on telling a story, with sex happening when fitting.)
EDIT: Decided to alter the synopsis. When I first started the story, I honestly did intend it to be nothing more than comedic, fluffy erotica - but in writing it, it changed quite a bit!
"...I can't believe it," Abigail whispered. True to her words, my maid's eyes were filled with disbelief as she stared at me. Her mouth opened again, and then closed as if she couldn't quite figure out what to say. Her hand reached out toward me, and I thought for a moment that she would prod me to see if I were real, but then she seemed to think better of it . "I really can't believe it," she repeated, shaking her head back and forth.
"...Don't you think you're being a touch rude?" I demanded, exasperated. "I do not see the need to stare at me with such shock just because I got up a bit early."
"You never get up without being woken, first, your highness," Abigail pointed out, narrowing her eyes at me. "And you certainly never dress yourself. Where did you even find those clothes?"
"Do you not like them?" I peered down at myself, not entirely sure what the complaint was. My blouse was solid black, with long sleeves and a stiff collar. My skirt was red, and ended just past my knees. I was wearing a pair of white knee high stockings as well, meaning that the vast majority of my skin was covered. Not exactly my normal M.O., but that was rather the point. I was a brand new person, thanks to regaining memories of my past life, and I saw today as my official debut.
Abigail didn't seem to be impressed, though.
"It's not like I hate them, or anything," she told me. "But outside your coronation, I've literally never seen you show this little skin. Are you really comfortable wearing all that?"
"I am, yes," I informed Abigail, cheeks tinged red. It was true that I had, in the past, always insisted on showing off as much skin as possible. The majority of my closet reflected this, meaning it had actually taken quite a bit of searching to put together an outfit so modest. I didn't intend to make a repeat effort any time soon, either. While Jacob might have been the sort to hide his body, Devilla had always enjoyed being on display, and it seemed my current self was closer to the latter. I also didn't see much point in hiding my assets when everyone in the tower had gotten a good look at them already. None of that translated to me being actively uncomfortable being covered in clothing, though.
"I happen to have a reason for not wanting to wear anything too flashy on this occasion."
"...And what would that be, my queen?" Abigail asked. Her face was pinched with worry, and her tone was cautious. At least her words were polite.
"It is quite simple," I said, my lips pulling ever so slightly up at the corners. "Today I will be paying you a home visit."
Again, Abigail opened and closed her mouth. She lifted both hands, this time, not to reach out to me but to cradle her head.
"A… Home visit, my queen?" Abigail choked out, hardly able to believe the words she was speaking. "You want to visit my home?"
"Since it is just the two of us, I will permit you to speak freely on this matter," I declared, magnanimously. "Your first comments of the day prove that you are capable of it."
"A home visit?" Abigail repeated, before groaning softly. "Why do you even want to go home with me? Do you want to have more sex? Is that it? We can do that here, you know! You don't need to go slumming it!"
"...It would seem you have no problems with speaking your mind, once given permission," I muttered, crossing arms in front of my chest. "Shall I take that as a sign you're adjusting well to your new position?"
"Adjusting, huh?" Abigail sighed. "I mean, I've been your personal maid for less than twelve hours… and I spent most of it doing paperwork with your chief of staff, too. I don't think I can say I'm really used to it, or anything. It's more like I'm too damn tired to keep my shock in check, at this point. I mean, what's the deal with you? You haven't yelled, or threatened to whip me, or… And what's the deal with wanting to pay me a home visit?"
"Perhaps I should have led with that," I admitted, referring of course to the home visit. I was doing my best to ignore the other comments Abigail had made, since it wasn't as if I could tell her about my past life memories. Ignoring Abigail's suspicions didn't seem like the best solution, but it was the only one at my disposal.
"I'm waiting," Abigail replied, lifting an eyebrow. It was hard to believe that this was the same woman who'd demurely tried to beg off from being my personal maid just the night before. Had she reached the end of her patience with me so quickly? Or was it that she'd become emboldened in the absence of punishment? It was also possible that this was her true nature, and that she'd simply grown tired of hiding it. Regardless, all I could offer her was the truth of today's goal.
"I wish to learn how to cook."
Abigail just stood there, for a long moment, staring at me. I felt as if her eyes were boring holes into my soul, and I found myself shifting my weight nervously from foot to foot. I did not back down, however. I could not back down. This was essential to my future.
"You want to learn how to cook?" Abigail repeated, after a moment.
"It's an essential life skill," I pointed out. "I would also like to learn how to clean and sew. But I thought cooking might be a good place to start."
Abigail lifted a hand to her forehead, kneading the fingers against her scalp as if trying to massage away a sudden headache.
"And why," she asked me, "do you need to come to my house for these lessons? You have a massive kitchen dedicated to serving you. And cooks! Professional cooks who could teach you how to cook!"
"I would only get in the way in the royal kitchen. The chefs there are quite busy preparing meals for me and the generals." That was probably true, but mostly just an excuse. The real reason I didn't want to go to the royal kitchen is because I wanted to learn how to cook as a commoner. If I got used to using the amenities and spices available only to royal households, I'd be in trouble after I fled the tower and started life among humans.
"I won't be able to cook anything fit for a royal palette," Abigail warned me.
"That is fine," I promised. "A queen should know how her people are eating." Quite frankly, I wasn't sure that the royal food fit my palette, either. I hadn't had any since recovering memories of my past life, and while I remembered the royal food tasting quite good I wasn't sure how it would actually stack against what I'd eaten as Jacob. I was already missing fries, for example. Still, whether it was royal cuisine or commoner food a demon queen needed to eat.
"In fact," I added, I would appreciate it if we could go cook up a few commoner delicacies immediately. I am quite hungry."
"Don't you have royal duties to do?" Abigail protested. She sounded a little frantic, for some reason. "Paperwork to sign? Things to… I don't know, survey?"
"My generals can handle all that," I told her, rolling my eyes. "In fact, I am quite certain that they will be happier without me butting in." Besides which, my long term plans involved the generals betraying me for the sake of our people. Building a relationship with them, in the meantime, would only make things more difficult. "Is there a reason you do not wish me to enter your home? I am starting to become perturbed by having my personal maid so set against me."
"N-No…" Abigail said. She wasn't quite meeting my eye - but then, I'd never actually given her permission to start looking directly at me, so perhaps that was why.
"You may look me in the eye from now on, by the way," I told her. "Now gaze upon my features and say that again."
"I…" Her black eyes met mine for a moment, and then broke contact. "I'll go talk to your head of personnel, and get us some guards."
"Guards will be unnecessary today," I insisted, quickly. "Have you forgotten that I am dressed to avoid attention? Guards would only defeat the purpose. ...And I'm stronger than them, anyway." That's right. You wouldn't know it to look at my slender frame, but I was the demon queen. There were few who could rival my physical strength, and pretty much no one who could match my magic capacity. Even the heroine would need to gain power from my generals if she wanted to face me on equal terms.
For some reason, though, Abigail was giving me a funny look.
"Is something the matter?" I asked. "I should be quite strong by my reckoning, yes?"
"Well, yeah, that's not the problem," Abigail said, rubbing at the back of her head. "It's just… Changing your clothes isn't going to make you inconspicuous, you know? You're the demon queen. Everyone in the tower knows what you look like."
"Such a triviality," I said, letting out a smug laugh. "I have already thought of that. A simple illusion should suffice."
My voice was confident, but inside I was actually trembling with a heady mix of fear and excitement. While I had cast magic as Devilla many times before, the entire thing now had a far more romantic feel to it. I was excited to do it - and a little worried about messing it up.
Unlike the Rite of Insight, which was actually holy magic, most spells didn't involve an incantation. To use arcane magic, you simply had to imagine what you wanted and supply the magic energy to make it happen. It worked better if you had a solid grasp of the process, too.
Creating an illusion, in this case, basically involved projecting an image over my own face. I couldn't change my eyes, since covering them with light magic would remove my ability to see, but I made my cheeks a little rounder, my nose a little bigger, and my lips a touch thinner. I also made my hair black, for good measure, and added tiny little red horns to my forehead so that I would not be mistaken for a human.
The actual casting felt like… Like warmth, in my soul. Heat flowed through my body and out through my skin. Since keping an illusion up required a constant supply of magic energy, the feeling didn't go away, either. It was strange, even more so because part of my brain accepted it as natural while another part had never dealt with it before. It also felt pretty damn good, though.
"So?" I asked Abigail, grinning widely. "Does it suit me?"
"I'm not even sure how to respond to that, my queen…" Abigail lamented, shaking her head softly back and forth. "For one thing, your lips aren't moving. Which is strange. How did you even manage to cast an illusion spell that doesn't move with the user?"
That was a fair question. The image I used when casting the spell was that of a projector, plastering a solid image across the expanse of my face. It was no wonder that wouldn't move, now that I thought about it. Fortunately, it seemed that the people of this world used a different mental image; one that would work better. Unfortunately, I'd always deferred magic lessons, saying I would receive all the knowledge I'd ever need from the Rite of Insight. I had no idea what the proper way to cast the spell was.
"I don't suppose you would happen to know anything about how to cast illusions?" I asked Abigail, hoping against hope.
"Of course!" she replied, surprising me. "I'm a succubus, you know. We're pretty much masters of showing people what they want to see. You just need to think of it like a paint job - like someone took your face and drew an entirely new one over it. That way the illusion will move with you."
"I see," I murmured, giving a small nod. I released my spell, causing the warmth that was flowing out of me to draw back inside again, then called upon that same energy to cast another spell. "Is this better?" I asked.
"Much better, my queen," Abigail promised. She looked a little relieved. I could only imagine it had been somewhat creepy having my voice emanate from a motionless mask.
"You shouldn't call me 'my queen' while I'm like this," I warned her. "It would ruin my cover, if people heard you. You should call me…" I hesitated, unsure of what a good name would be. Jacob wasn't quite a good fit, and I'd die all over again before using "Jacoba." After a few minutes of thought, I settled on "Eena Divington," which I thought was a normal enough name, at least by the standards of my new world.
"Eena," Abigail parroted back to me. "Are you sure my - Eena?"
"It is fine," I promised. "In fact, if you would like to call me Devilla when we are alone, I would not object. Being called 'my queen' all the time is honestly somewhat stifling."
Abigail stared at me for a long moment, before slowly nodding her head, and holding out her hand. "I don't know what's gotten into you, Devilla, but I really hope it stays there. Now come on - let's get going."
It was my turn to stare. I had been acting differently of late, obviously, and it was no surprise that she'd realized it… But I really hadn't expected it to make a difference. After a lifetime of acting like a brat, there was only so much one could do to make up for it. That's why I had pretty much given up, from the start, on making friends. Yet now a hand was being offered to me, if not in friendship than at least with the intent of walking together toward a shared destination. It was such a small thing, and yet it struck me harder than I ever would have thought possible.
Trying hard not to cry, I reached out and took Abigail's hand in my own.
Walking through the tower was an entirely new experience for me. Normally I would simply fly, utilizing the large windows that dotted the tower. In an emergency I could even use a teleportation circle to go directly to any one of my generals. Utilizing either method would make it impossible for me to pretend I was just an ordinary demon, though. The teleportation circles were only for high ranking officials, and no one in the tower would fail to recognize my void-like wings. So we walked.
Walking, as it turned out, was quite fascinating. There were many sights I had never seen when flitting about the tower by wing. For example, I had never realized just how big the tower was. The ceiling on the hundredth floor went maybe twenty feet above my head, but the ceiling of the lower floors stretched far further than that. It stretched so far above that, if not for the lack of stars, one could be mistaken for thinking they were looking up at the night sky.
It was also incredibly dark in the tower. Away from the windows, there was only the occasional lantern or conjured light to brighten the various shops, houses, and apartment buildings. Despite that, I could still see. Small details, vibrant colors - I could see it all so clearly that you'd think I was standing beneath the midday sun. Looking at the demons around me, I could tell that they were the same way. I imagined that it might be different in pure darkness, just judging by the small amount of light provided, but I honestly thought there was a good chance that even then I'd be able to see.
We had to travel through six floors to reach Abigail's home. Other than my own floor, and that of General Sylvanna right below it, each floor we went through seemed to contain the equivalent of a large town, or perhaps even a small city. It made sense, really. The entirety of demonkind had been forced to live in this tower, after all. It was just that there were a lot more of them than I'd thought. More than there had been in the game, for sure.
"It would seem that I have a larger force at my disposal than I thought," I muttered to myself. I still thought that the best route forward for my people was to join forces with the heroine and make peace with humans. No matter how many of us there were, there were undoubtedly a hundred times more of them. Still, seeing such a large fighting force gave me hope that the demons would be able to hold their own at the peace talks, without capitulating to demands from fear.
Abigail quickly shot that hope down, however.
"I hope you aren't expecting anyone here to fight," she said, glaring at me. "Most of these women have never even held a pitchfork, yet alone a sword."
Indeed, while I saw many women were sharp teeth and claws, none of them seemed like hardened warriors to me. They were shopkeepers, business women. The most any of them would be able to tell you about a weapon was how to price it. It seemed that I did not have much of an army here, after all. Just ninety or so towns full of women who needed my help.
Sobered considerably by that thought, I took another look at the townsfolk around me. They came in all shapes and sizes. I saw a lady who looked to be part frog, for example, talking to a woman who looked mostly human except for some spikes. I saw another woman with wolf ears and a tail, kissing a girl covered in wool. There was even a bee girl, running a flowerstand. She seemed to be trying to sell roses to a lady who looked to be part goat.
It's seriously all women, though… Not that I was surprised by that, per se. I knew full well that demons, or monster girls as they could properly be called, were all women. In fact, as Devilla, I had never once seen a man in my life. It wasn't as if I had some longing to see one, either. It was only that I had been a man in my last life, and it was a little odd having that gender simply removed from the equation.
"Oof!" A loud noise, and a light impact, broke through my reverie. There was, for some reason, a redheaded woman, with long rabbit ears, sprawled out on the floor, laying on her back.
"...I apologize," I murmured, realizing I must have bumped into her, in my distraction.
"Not your fault," she laughed, to my surprise. "I'm the one who bumped into you, lass, not the other way around. Guess I was in too much of a rush."
"Really?" I asked, looking to Abigail for confirmation. She gave a small, reluctant nod. She looked quite concerned. Did she think I would get mad, or some such? I had more compassion for mistakes than that… These days. "It's fine," I told the bunny girl. "I'm sure I'm as much at fault as you are, for not paying attention."
"Well, that's mighty kind of you to say!" The rabbit girl hopped back onto her feet with a single smooth motion, dusting herself off and smiling brightly at me. "Well. Hate to bump and run, but it's almost time for work! I'll be seeing you around, maybe."
"Of course," I said, smiling faintly back. "May the Fallen One's grace be upon you." My memories as Devilla told me that was a perfectly normal farewell. Perhaps it was only common among the upper ranks, though, because the woman opened her mouth in surprise, before letting out another laugh.
"Feeling pretty formal, there, ain'tcha?" she asked me, giving me a thump on the back. It didn't seem to have much force behind it, but the intention was obvious enough so I gave a smile in return.
"Guess we can use whatever blessings we can manage around here, though, the way things are going under Queen Devilla's rule," the rabbit girl added. "Bet ol' Luci would be twisted up something fierce inside to know she ended up with a descendent like that."
"Th-That's enough!" Abigail protested. She was still holding my hand tightly in hers. So tightly in fact that her knuckles were turning white; it was almost starting to hurt. "You should know better than to speak bad about our queen."
"Or what?" the rabbit girl demanded, rolling her eyes. "She'll throw me in the dungeon for a few days? How's she gonna even find out? If everything everyone said was reported to that woman, the whole damn population would be in the dungeon, Probably forever!"
"Th-That's not true," Abigail insisted. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to the rabbit. "You don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was firm, and her words were sweet to hear. It would have been nice to think she meant them, but it was fairly obvious she was simply frightened of how I'd respond.
"It's fine, Abigail," I declared. "The woman is simply speaking the truth. The queen has been less than ideal, so far as rulers go." I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice as I spoke. I worried the rabbit girl would notice, but she was too busy glaring at Abigail. "Did you not have to go to work?"
"What?" The rabbit girl looked at me, at last. "Right - sorry about that. Got so distracted by your idiot sycophant of a friend there, that I-"
The rabbit cut off her speech, mid sentence. That was no surprise to me, considering I was lifting her by the collar. My dominant hand was still occupied by Abigail's grip, and I could not cast any spells while maintaining my illusion, so neither a slap nor a splash of water had been feasible. Instead, I had simply grabbed her with my left hand and dragged her toward me. Since I was slightly taller than the rabbit girl, we'd ended up with me lifting her in the process, something I hadn't intended to do. It was possible that I was quite a bit stronger than I'd thought I was.
Not that I cared at that moment. The bitch had just spoken ill of the closest thing I had to a friend.
"You may speak ill of me all you wish," I told her, my voice soft as a whisper but hard as steel. "The queen, the country, even Luci herself - all these are fair game before my eyes. But if you dare to speak another ill word about my companion you will find yourself wishing for the safety of the dungeons. And I don't just mean in my presence - if I so much as hear a whisper of a redheaded rabbit girl talking ill of a succubus, I will personally hunt you down. Understood?"
The rabbit girl nodded, fearfully. I let her go.
"Good. Now go."
She scurried away without even looking back at me, leaving me with a sense of deep self-satisfaction. That only lasted a moment, though; then I saw the shock on Abigail's face, and a rush of embarrassment consumed me as I realized just what I had done.
"I… Perhaps I went a touch far," I muttered, not able to meet her eyes. Truthfully, I hadn't known I had that in me. While I had always had a temper, as Devilla, I had always been a calm and well tempered individual as Jacob. Since my memories of being Jacob had tempered my personality so considerably, I had assumed that my fits of anger were all but gone. Apparently all that had shifted was the trigger.
"W-We should get going," Abigail told me. She was smiling, but it was obviously strained. "People are staring."
"...So they are." Indeed, several sets of eyes had locked on me during that little show and the area around me had grown quite quiet. The moment I noticed the staring crowd, however, everyone scattered and noise returned to our part of the ninety fifth floor.
"Come on," Abigail said, tugging lightly at my hand. "We're almost there."
"Almost there" turned out to be quite accurate. A mere moment later Abigail and I had come to a stop again.
"Home sweet home," Abigail told me. She was indicating a tall building, built of red brick. It was maybe five stories tall, which certainly made it one of the tallest buildings in the area. There was a flower shop on one side, and another apartment building on the other. A brothel by the name of "Demon's Desire" was situated across the street from it. In other words, it seemed like a rather nice neighborhood. I was pleased to know that I paid Abigail well enough to live there.
"Shall we go inside?" I suggested. "It would be good to begin cooking soon; I am quite famished." Indeed, with everything that had been happening, I'd skipped both last night's dinner and that day's breakfast.
"I don't know what you're expecting, but this is going to be a pretty simple breakfast," Abigail warned me, frowning. "I'm talking eggs and porridge. Maybe a ration of salted pork. Nothing fancy."
"Just the porridge will be fine, this time," I told her, honestly. "I do not wish to use up all your supplies." Actually, I'd be satisfied just knowing what sort of stoves they used, and how to utilize them. If they had an oven, I'd ask about that, too. I rather doubted they would, though.
"..." For some reason, Abigail was giving me a strange look. It seemed as if she had something to say, so I raised an eyebrow to indicate that she should get on with it. "This time?" she asked me. "Don't tell me you're planning to do this again?"
"Of course I am," I told her, blinking in surprise. "One does not learn how to cook in a single lesson, after all."
Abigail stared at me for another long moment, and then let out a long sigh. Still holding my hand in one of hers, she used the other to turn the knob and then proceeded to drag me inside. It was even darker within the apartment building than it was "outside" but, as I had predicted, the absence of light did absolutely nothing to impede my vision. Abigail didn't seem particularly bothered by it, either, leading me past several doors before stopping at a door just in front of the stairwell.
"Just a moment," Abigail said, "I'll unlock it." Despite saying this, she did not reach into her dress for a key, but simply closed her eyes and grabbed hold of the handle. Since any halfway decent magic user could shift the inner mechanism of a lock, most demon's didn't bother with physical keys or even keyholes, preferring instead to use a combination style locking mechanism, with the dial hidden inside the knob to prevent others from seeing anything. Indeed, a moment after Abigail grabbed the knob there was a soft "click," and Abigail was able to push the door open.
"Abigail?" called a voice. "Is that you?"
"M-Mom?!" Abigail called back. Her cheeks had grown pale, and her eyes were wide as dinner plates. "Wh-what are you doing up this early?"
"Oh, I had a late night at the brothel, dear," the voice replied. "I was planning to make myself something to eat and head to bed, actually. But what are you doing here? Don't you have work, today? You didn't get fired, did you, dear?" The owner of the voice came into view with that question, stepping out of what I assumed to be the kitchen and peering curiously at us. She had long, wavy brown hair cascading down to her waist and and pitch black eyes. She was well endowed, much more so than Abigail, with breasts you could bury your face in. Probably a D-36, about, if I had to guess? Her ass was pretty big, too, more than big enough to fill the average person's palms. She was wearing a backless red halter top, and a black skirt. She looked to be in her late twenties, or maybe early thirties, but judging by her conversation with Abigail I doubted that either was actually the case. Judging by the black leathery wings that stretched out behind her, she was a lesser succubus like Abigail. That meant her lifespan was almost as long as… Well, mine, I supposed.
"I didn't get fired, Mom," Abigail promised, scowling a little. "I… I got told the queen didn't need me today. And then I ran into my friend Eena, who'd. Been uh. Begging me for lessons on how to cook. So we came back here to make some porridge, and-"
"Porridge?" Abigail's mother asked. "You're going to teach your friend how to cook porridge? I can't imagine she doesn't know at least that - wouldn't you be better off teaching her something like your onion soup?"
"We're going to start with porridge, mom," Abigail insisted. "Trust me, Eena will have a hard enough time with that."
"Really now?" The mother's eyes were on me, now. Just like when her daughter stared, her eyes seemed to see straight into my soul. "You can't even cook porridge?"
"I'm afraid not, Mrs…?"
"Bevola," she told me with a smile. "Just Bevola. I don't have anything so fancy as a last name, I'm afraid. And I'm not married, besides."
"Bevola, then," I said, wondering whether I should drop into a curtsy. It was technically a big deal for the queen to even so much as lower her head, but I was pretending to be a commoner right then. She might think me rude if I didn't… Then again, the disguise had mostly been for the sake of getting through the city. It was probably best to at least let my host know of my true identity. "I fear I must apologize, though, for a small deception. You see, I'm actually-"
"Very hungry!" Abigail interrupted, digging her nails lightly into my palm. "She's incredibly hungry, and she's been trying to hide it 'cause… You know. Rude, much? But I guess I've kept her waiting long enough. Porridge time, right Eena?"
"...Yes." I nodded, slowly, understanding what she wanted from me. I could even guess why she wanted it. Meeting that rabbit girl had driven home how people saw me. Including Abigail, no matter how much I wished that wasn't the case.
"I will make delicious porridge," I vowed, turning my attention back to Bevola. "So may I ask that you please wait for sustenance until you can consume it alongside us?"
"My, someone's quite the flirt," Bevola teased, letting out a high pitched giggle. "And such formal language, too. Did you pick that up working as a maid? Or perhaps my girl made friends with the daughter of a general, or some such?"
"Today I am simply Eena," I replied, sidestepping the question with a small smile. "A simple girl, with a simple wish: to learn how to cook. Since your daughter is being kind enough to teach me, the least I can do is feed you after, yes?"
"Well don't go burning the porridge, in that case, you hear?" Bevola responded. "I'm hoping to eat something delicious, today, after that little speech of yours."
"You have my word." I bowed my head, ever so slightly, trying to strike a balance between who I was and who I was pretending to be. "Now - I believe the kitchen is this way?" I started walking toward the room Bevola had left behind. Abigail, still holding my hand, had little choice but to follow. Once we were in the kitchen, however, I grabbed her wrist and forcefully took my hand from hers. It had started to feel rather less like the hand of friendship, and more like a parent's grip of restraint on a wild child.
"So this is where the magic happens?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. It was indeed the kitchen we had entered, so far as I could tell. There were cupboards and cabinets on one wall, alongside counters and drawers. A basin was set into the counter. It had a drain, but no faucet, leading me to wonder where the water was coming from. There was a metal contraption in the corner that I assumed to be the stove. It was a square thing, standing on four thin legs, with a flat top and a door in front.
"Magic?" Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "It's. Where we do the cooking? I mean, I guess you're technically doing magic right now, but usually it's more about. Like. Chopping and heating things?"
"...Of course. How silly of me." I didn't feel like explaining the saying, so I simply let it go. "You said you would teach me how to make porridge, yes?"
"That's right," Abigail confirmed, opening one of the cupboards and pulling out a large iron pot. "It's pretty simple, actually." She moved to open a drawer, pulling out a long metal ladle. "You really need only one ingredient."
"One?" I asked, honestly confused. Oats, of course, were the main ingredient of porridge. Water, however, was undoubtedly essential as well. I still wasn't sure where she was going to get it, either.
"All you need to do is take a pot, like this one…" Abigail placed the black pot on the stovetop, and smacked it lightly with the spoon. "Then you grab some oats…" She moved to a cabinet, pulling out a big burlap sack. It seemed to be something of a struggle for her to lift, so I bent down and casually picked it up.
"How much do I add?" I questioned her, moving over to the pot.
"For three people? About four cups should be more than enough. ...Though I guess you don't know how much a cup is, just eying it, huh?"
I rolled my eyes. "I think I can manage…" And in went the oats. It wasn't a precise measurement, of course, but it seemed close enough. "Now what? You said that was the only ingredient, yes? You can't mean to say that you simply cook it like this…?"
"It'll burn in an instant if you try," Abigail promised me, a faint smile on her lips. "I meant it's the only ingredient you need to have on hand. We conjure the water." Saying so, Abigail held the palm of her hand out toward the pot. In response, a ball of water appeared, growing steadily bigger. When she had what I thought was close to a cup's worth, she let the water drop into the pot, where it landed with a resounding splash.
"There," Abigail said, with a smug smile on her lips, "...We're gonna need to do that about nine more times, but since there's really only so much water in the air it takes a bit of time to gather it all."
Gather water from the air? Was she referring to moisture in the atmosphere? It was true that you'd find a bit of it, there, but the tower didn't feel particularly humid so I couldn't imagine there was too much of it. If I waited for her to make another nine cups like that, it was going to take a while… Then what if I used a different method?
"May I try filling it?" I asked her, stepping forward. I dropped the illusion I was wearing without asking for her response; I could always put it back.
"Huh? Uh. Sure. But it'll still take a bit - like I said, there's only so much water in the air…"
"Yes, that's true," I admitted, unperturbed. It was indeed a fact that one would find only so much moisture in the local atmosphere. But why did I have to restrict myself to what was local? Letting my power flow out of the room, and into the apartment as a whole, I drew water toward myself. Slowly, a ball of it began to form, growing bigger and bigger. When it was the required size, I let it drop into the container with a loud splash.
"How did you…?"
"Demon queen secret," I replied, trying not to laugh. I'd really only used brute force to solve the problem, in the end, but I saw no reason to clue Abigail in on a feat she wouldn't be able to repeat.
"Right… The Rite of Insight. I guess it really did give you the wisdom of your ancestors, didn't it?" Abigail nodded to herself, seeming convinced. "Alright, well. Now that we have the water, we just need to set the fire…" She opened the door I'd noticed on the stove, revealing an empty space where wood would no doubt go. "There's wood under that cabinet," she said, indicating one near me. "Can you get some for me?"
"Of course," I readily agreed, bending down to the cupboard and peering inside. There were four logs inside, and I grabbed the smallest one. "Though… wouldn't it be better to simply create a magical flame for the duration of your cooking? It wouldn't burn wood, and you would have better control of the temperature."
"Most people don't have enough magic power to cook an entire meal with it, Eena," Abigail pointed out, sounding exasperated. "I don't think I'd even be able to keep up an illusion spell like you were, earlier. And you should conserve whatever you have left for the road back." She reached for the wood, as she spoke, but I pulled it back and tossed it back into the cupboard.
"Nonsense," I told her. "I'm sure wood is expensive - and you are not giving my magic capacity the credit it is due, besides. Tell me when to stop growing the flame."
I pictured an ember, floating in the space beneath the stove, and it appeared. Then, ignoring Abigail's slackjaw stare, I began to slowly increase the size of the flames.
"Th-that's enough!" Abigail called, quickly, once I had a ball of flame about twice the size of my fist. "That's more than enough. Do you think you can keep it up for five minutes, or so? We need to let it boil, and then reduce the heat."
"No problem," I promised her, stepping closer to the pot so that I could peer inside. "I'm fairly certain I could keep this up for days." Indeed, despite the last hour's constant expenditure of magic, I couldn't say I felt much of a dent in my magic power. I was either recovering my magic faster than I was using it, or I simply had an unimaginably large capacity. It was quite possibly a bit of both.
"Is everything going alright in there?" came Bevola's familiar voice.
"M-Mom! We're fine! Don't come in!" Abigail called back. She sounded a touch panicked.
"Don't come in? Now you've really got me curious," Bevola teased. I could hear her footsteps coming closer. "You wouldn't happen to be preparing something special for your old mother, would you dear?"
"I told you! I'm just teaching D-Eena how to make porridge!" Abigail insisted. "W-we haven't even gotten it to a boil yet, so there's no point in you coming in! Just take a nap or something!"
"I'll nap when I want to, dear," Bevola said, entering the kitchen. She walked up to the stove, standing besides me and peering curiously at the open door. "Why, you haven't even put the wood in yet, have you?" she accused, frowning. "And you're talking about bringing it to a boil… What's wrong with you?" She moved over to the cupboard, pulling out a small log and carrying it back to the stove. This she dropped inside, and lit with a spell of her own. "There. Now it should start cooking properly," she declared, closing the oven door.
"Honestly, my dear," she added. Looking at me, "you should have had me teach you instead."
"Maybe you can teach me my next recipe," I said, with a faint smile on my lips. I had of course dropped the fire spell in order to restore the illusion from before.
"You drop by sometime when Abigail isn't here, and I just might," Bevola promised, trudging back out of the kitchen. "Now get along you two! I look forward to the food you cook."
"A-Alright mom," Abigail agreed. She waited until her mother had left the kitchen before sneaking a glance at me. "Thanks. For the quick thinking."
"It's hardly a problem," I replied, cooly. "Though with the wood already burning, I'm afraid there's not much I can do to put it out other than drenching it with water. If you're alright with it, I'll simply concentrate on managing the size of the fire."
"That's fine."
I gave a small nod, and opened the door to the stove again so that I could focus on managing the flames. For a few moments, other than the sound of the crackling fire, the room was silent.
"....Your mother doesn't like me, does she?" I phrased it as a question, but I was fairly certain I was right.
"Huh?" Abigail blinked, surprised. "No, she likes you fine. I mean, she's been practically flirting with you since you got here, y'know?"
"The real me," I corrected. "She does not like Queen Devilla. Does she?"
"Oh." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, during which Abigail looked at everything in the room except me. Then her eyes met mine and she spoke. "My other mother was a soldier, in your mom's army. She died when I was a baby - fighting in the war."
"And your mother blames me?"
"No. But…" Abigail let out a long, slow sigh. "She does think you've wasted mother's sacrifice."
"I see," So that's how it was. I couldn't precisely say that Bevola was wrong. It was almost certainly my fault that demonkind hadn't made any progress since the last war.
Without anything to say, on either side, an uncomfortable silence settled on the room. I did nothing but stare at the fire, keeping it controlled, while Abigail nervously poked the toe of one foot at the floor and glanced over her shoulder occasionally to see if her mother was coming back.
"Alright," Abigail said, at last. "The water's started to boil, so you should lower the heat down to about a fifth of where it's at right now, and then start stirring the porridge."
"You want me to be the one stirring it?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. It wasn't as if I particularly minded; I simply thought that I'd tease her a little, to lighten the mood.
"Hey, you wanted to learn how to cook , right? You put in the oats, and most of the water, plus you're controlling the flame. If you do the stirring, I'll be willing to publicly state that you know how to make porridge."
"And what would the tower think if they found that their powerful and bratty queen knew how to cook a commoner's meal?" I demanded, placing my hands on my hips.
"Maybe that you're not such a brat after all?" Abigail suggested. "Maybe they'll even realize you're… sort of… Not terrible to be around. Sometimes."
"...My. Such words of praise, from my loyal maid. Careful or I'll start to think you're after a raise." I held out a hand for the ladle, as I spoke, and Abigail handed it over with a blush on her cheeks.
Silence reigned again. The only difference from before was the clanking noise occasionally made by the ladle when it hit the pot. Despite that, I found the silence somehow more comfortable than before.
"I… never said 'thank you.' Did I?" Abigail asked, after a few minutes.
"For what?" I asked back, honestly confused. "You are the one who provided both the lesson and the ingredients. If anyone should be thanking you, it should surely be me."
"No. I mean… When you stood up for me. I didn't expect you to get so angry on my behalf - so…I guess it didn't occur to me to say something. But I should have. Thank you."
"...I simply did as I desired, in the end," I confessed. "I did not consider how it would make you feel, having me threaten someone like that. In the end, I simply acted selfishly. Like the bratty queen I am."
"That's not true," Abigail insisted, shaking her head rapidly back and forth. The movement sent her blonde hair whipping back and forth, and I paused a moment in my stirring to watch the spectacle, unable to resist a small smile.
"I've never had anyone but Mom stand up for me like that," Abigail continued. "I don't exactly like it when she does it, and I'm not sure you doing it was any better, but… Still. It's nice to know you care."
I didn't respond, simply stirring the pot. The oats soaked up more and more liquid as I did so, until the porridge was thick enough to make stirring difficult. With that, Abigail declared breakfast a success, and withdrew three bowls from a cupboard and some spoons from a drawer. I doused my flames with a splash of water, recast my illusion spell, and filled each of the bowls. Carrying two of them to the dining room table, I placed them on opposing sides of the table.
"Mom!" Abigail called, sitting down herself. "Mom! Food's done!"
"My, you're done fast." There was a loud yawn, and Bevola emerged from another room at the back of the house. She had put on a white nightgown, at some point. A backless one, of course, to make up for her wings. "Perhaps I should have napped instead of checking on you..."
"It's just basic porridge," Abigail warned, "so you'll probably want some sugar, but I'm pretty sure she cooked it right."
"How rude," I complained, looking for the sugar myself. I was a little surprised that commoners could afford any of the stuff, but perhaps it wasn't as expensive here as it was in most fantasy settings. "I assure you, Bevola, that it's quite well made. Your daughter even helped me with it."
Abigail took advantage of my conversation to grab the sugar first. It was in a very small bowl, with a lid that had a notch in it, fitted over a small, ceramic spoon. Abigail used the spoon to scoop up a bit of sugar into her bowl, stirring it up with one of the spoon's she'd taken from the cupboard. Bringing a bite of porridge up to her lips, she blew on it twice before taking her first bite.
"It's good!" she declared.
"Well, if it has my daughter's seal of approval…" Bevola took an even smaller scoop of sugar than her daughter, mixing it in and taking a bite of her own. "Hmm! Not bad at all. You did well, Eena."
"You give me too much praise," I protested, taking the sugar bowl for myself. Since the others had only used a small amount of sugar, I assumed it wasn't that cheap, and used a similar amount. The porridge was… bland. But passable. I had officially learned to cook my first meal and, with hunger as its main spice, I was quick to eat it all.
"Someone's certainly a hungry woman!" Bevola laughed, taking another bite of her own porridge. She was perhaps half done, with Abigail only slightly ahead. I really had finished quite quickly.
"A growing girl needs to eat," was my excuse. I was thankful that my painted on illusion didn't allow for things like blushes to show.
"And which part of you is still growing, exactly?" Abigail wanted to know.
"...Perhaps these?" I suggested, indicating my tits. I had heard that they could keep growing into one's twenties, so it wasn't a falsehood. More importantly, however, it brought a glare from the relatively flat chested Abigail.
Bevola laughed from across the table, apparently amused by my joke. Well, she was almost as well endowed as me. Otherwise I never would have made the jab in her presence.
"My tits might be small," Abigail muttered, "but they're more sensitive than any of yours!"
If I had been offered something to drink, I would have spat it out in shock. Was that any way to talk in front of one's mother?
"Aye," agreed Bevola, apparently seeing nothing wrong with it. "You're like Jazma, to hear you tell it."
Jazma. That must have been Abigail's other mother. The one who's sacrifice I had wasted, alongside so many others. The one Abigail would never get to know.
"So," Bevola continued, her pure black eyes turning to Devilla, "you never did tell me how you know little miss sensitive here. I'm going to start thinking you really are a general's daughter, if you don't correct me quick." Her voice was teasing, but her expression was serious. It seemed that it was normal in any world for mothers to worry about their daughters.
"Don't be ridiculous," Abigail protested, instantly moving to deny the area. "Eena is just-"
"The queen," I interrupted, pushing my chair back and standing upright.
Abigail stared at me, eyes wide and mouth wider. "Y-Yeah, we both work for the-"
"My name is Devilla Satanne," I declared, dropping my illusion. My eyes met Bevola's unblinking black gaze, and though I did not break eye contact I did slightly lower my head. "I know you will likely not believe it, but I do apologize for deceiving you."
Bevola made no response. It felt like there was a lump in my throat, but I forced myself to keep speaking. "I understand that I am not welcome in your house. I'll find another kitchen to cook in. Thank you for the meal." With my piece said, I turned to leave.
"Wait." I had half expected Abigail to call out to me. I had already decided to ignore her, if she did. But it was Bevola who called out to me, and I couldn't hide my surprise.
"...Yes?" I turned back toward her. Would she yell at me, for wasting her wife's sacrifice? If so, I would accept it; I probably should have been prepared for that from the start.
"Why did you tell me the truth?"
The question she asked was unexpected, though perhaps it shouldn't have been. From the way Bevola's black eyes were searching mine, I didn't think she'd be satisfied with anything less than the truth. I couldn't give her the full story, unfortunately, but I hoped part of it would do.
"I didn't want Abigail to keep lying to you. Not for my sake, at least."
"And why not?" Bevola pressed, her eyes narrowing. It felt like I was pinned beneath her gaze. I knew that I was stronger than her, yet the mere idea of resisting her seemed somehow futile.
"...Because I am someone who will never see her parents again," I explained, at last. I didn't know my parents at all, as Devilla. I had lost them too young to even understand what that pain meant. As Jacob I'd had parents who loved me, though. Parents I'd left behind, who I would never see again. I felt both Devilla's irrational anger at the world for making her grow up without parents and Jacob's grief at forever losing access to those he loved. Thus, I felt that I understood far better than most just how important parental relationships could be. "I did not wish to watch Abigail strain her relationship with you; not for the sake of teaching me how to cook."
"Mom," Abigail started, but stopped when Bevola lifted a hand.
"You're a lot different than I expected, Queen Devilla," Bevola admitted. "That doesn't mean I like you, or anything. You've got a long way to go for that. But…"
I realized that I was holding my breath. I didn't let it go, though. Not even as the moment stretched on. Not until Bevola finally spoke again.
"...But. I can't say it would be a bad thing for my daughter to get close to you. It might even do her some good, one day, knowing the queen."
"Then does that mean you're fine with her still being my maid?" I asked, relief washing over me. My legs felt like they were made of jelly, and only my royal pride kept me from collapsing to the floor. I hadn't realized how terrified I'd been of losing Abigail entirely over this.
"Your maid?" Bevola laughed. "That was never in question. I don't tell my girl where she can or can't work. No - what I'm saying is that you can keep using my kitchen. But no more lies!"
"No more lies," I promised, willingly. "...Though I won't say the same about secrets."
"Well duh, dear. Every lady deserves a few of those, don't you think?"
I could only smile in response. After all, how I became a lady was one of the secrets I intended to keep.
Some more bonus trivia - The name "Eena" is based on "Kristina" - the name Jacob's mother would have given him if he'd been assigned female at birth. Yes, Devilla could have just gone with Kristina, but she kind of overthought it, and wanted to make a name that seemed native to her world. (Nevermind that Solla has a rather unique naming sense, where names like "Devilla" and "Abigail" both sound completely normal to the populace!)
In any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
Interesting. I think you added the Mature tag a bit prematurely, but any story with Succubus in it tends to need such a thing. I do have a quick question about the 'hero' of the otome game this world supposedly follows.
Exactly how comparable are the hero's stats to the demon queen's stats?
I do have a quick question about the 'hero' of the otome game this world supposedly follows. Exactly how comparable are the hero's stats to the demon queen's stats?
Well, the Heroine grows stronger based on the number of demons she's killed/defeated, so in theory she can become just as strong as any Demon Queen. But in terms of base stats? She's a lot stronger than your average human, and a bit stronger than your average demon, but that's about it. Think of her as a level one character, just starting on her journey, versus the level ninety-nine final boss.
Well, in the game at least, the Heroine didn't have much of a healing factor - she recovered health at set plot points, but never used any healing spells mid-battle. Made the boss battle pretty tough!
I slumped onto a leather couch, unconcerned about dignity. I was wearing a backless black halter top, with a boob window, that ended somewhere north of my midriff. My red skirt, which ended barely halfway down my thighs, was so small that even my Devilla side was a little embarrassed to be wearing it. And now I was sprawling myself out on a couch, thighs spread, with my black panties utterly visible to the world. One could safely say that I had given up on modesty as well.
Then again, demon queens weren't actually expected to be modest, were they? Today's outfit was the result of me telling Abigail I wanted to, "dress to impress," and I couldn't deny that it had done the job. At the very least nobody had given me trouble when I demanded entry to the royal vaults, using the excuse that I wanted to take one of our national treasures for my own use.
It had all been for nothing in the end, though. True, I got a fairly decent magic item from it, but my real goal - rereading the Rite of Insight - was a total bust. I had gotten my hands on the spell again, without much issue, but no matter how many times I read the spell nothing more had happened. No light, no darkness, and no insight. That knowledge could have been really useful to me, too, so I was fairly distressed.
"You seem pretty upset," Abigail remarked, walking into the room behind me. "Did your new toy not bring you any joy?"
"It is a national treasure, not a toy," I told her, firmly, frowning. My ancestor had only brought two items down from the heavens, after all, and - putting aside the collar Lucy used on me in the game - they were the only enchanted item I knew of in this world. We'd lost the indestructible sword during the last war, making the item I held even more precious.
Abigail, however, did not look impressed. "Weren't you the one who said you wanted to 'play around with it'?"
"Urk… Is it just me or have you grown more and more pointed in your remarks?" I asked, attempting to change the subject. It was true that I had made a comment along those lines, but it had all been an attempt to keep up appearances. I needed to keep things on track for my people's eventual rebellion.
"Why don't you whip me for misconduct, then?" Abigail suggested. "Or you could put me on the rack in the dungeons. Or you could even paddle my ass a bit during sex tonight. It might even make you feel better."
"What? No. Your insolence aside, I do not see how punishing you would do anything for my mood."
"Really? You always seemed to like punishing people in the past," Abigail pointed out, raising a blonde eyebrow.
"Urk…" She'd gotten me again. "Th-that was then, this is now. I enjoy your company far too much to enjoy punishing you for no reason."
For some reason Abigail looked a little dejected when I delivered that news, her shoulders slumping and her head hanging low. Was it that much of a blow, knowing that someone as reviled as I enjoyed her company?
After a long moment, Abigail let out an even longer sigh. "If you won't punish me, then whatwillhelp? Do you want to call a musician for a song? You want the chef to cook your favorite meal? It's depressing watching you mope like this."
"I am not in the mood for music right now," I confessed. "And the chefs cannot make my favorite food…" Ahhh, I wanted fries. Potato chips, too. Salty and delicious… I had not had either of them once, as Devilla, but the mere memory of them was enough to make my mouth water. "If only we had oil…"
"Huh? Of course we have oil," Abigail told me.
"What?" I jumped to my feet. "Where does it come from? Why have I not used it yet? Is it expensive?"
"It's peanut oil," Abigail informed me. "And it's affordable, I guess. We haven't used it yet because you're a novice, and I didn't want you splattering hot oil all over yourself. I'm surprised you even knew that you could cook the stuff, and not just, like, pour it on your enemies."
"I learned it from the Rite of Insight," I lied. Lying came with a surprising ease to me, in this life, thanks to years of practice as Devilla. My conscience wasn't entirely at ease with it, but there were some things I just wasn't ready to tell anyone. Like how this world had been used as the setting of a porn game in my last life. "Now what about potatoes? And salt. I haven't seen salt at all."
"I've never heard of... poe-tay-toes?" Abigail informed me. "And we all ran out of salt years ago."
"...Yes, I suppose that would be the case," I sighed. I'd been learning to cook over the last three days, and had added bacon, sausage, and eggs to my repertoire. I'd used a fair amount of spices during that time, too. Apparently we grew the stuff ourselves, alongside all our other food, with the aid of magic. Which was probably actually the crux of the problem. We couldn'tgrowsalt.
"Still, I really want to eat something salty," I muttered to myself. "Let's see, salt, salt… I don't even know where to begin with mining the stuff… but there's plenty of it in the sea, right?"
I turned my attention to Abigail, a slow smile slipping across my lips. Abigail's response was to shudder a little, and take a step backwards. A little rude… But I wasn't going to let it bother me. Not when I was so close to an idea. "Abigail. I require a map of the continent. Including our current location and the location of as many human settlements as possible."
"Yeah, that sounds like military intelligence?" Abigail suggested, frowning. "I think you'd need to talk to general Mifa about that."
Ah. The harpy general, on the fortieth floor. It was perhaps obvious to put the fliers in charge of reconnaissance, and even I hadn't been stupid enough to mess that up. Hopefully Mifa had been doing a decent job of it, too, because I'd never really checked.
"Very well," I declared, standing upright. "I shall head to Mifa immediately."
"You can't be serious," Abigail protested. "Aren't there like. Proper channels for this stuff? Shouldn't you be setting up appointments a week ahead of time?"
"Probably," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "I will have to ask her to forgive my selfishness, one more time. For the sake of my taste buds - no, my people's taste buds - no, for the sake of the enrichment of our very soul, I swear I shall bring salt to tables across the tower!"
Abigail stared at me for a moment, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then her shoulders slumped forward. "I don't care anymore," she mumbled. "The rite must have driven her insane, or something. Or maybe I'm dreaming…"
"You will think you are dreaming when you eat a properly salted dish," I informed Abigail, grabbing her hand and moving toward a nearby window.
Abigail did not resist, and soon I had I unlocked and opened the window. A tickling sensation ran down my back, a moment before my black wings sprouted, and I moved to stand on the windowsill. It was there, however, that I hesitated.
I had flown many times as Devilla. More times than I could count, really. But not once since I'd recovered my memories as Jacob. I knew, intellectually, that the process had not changed. I should be able to do it as easily as I ever had. It was only that it was a touch scary, staring down at a ground so far away and getting ready to step out into nothingness. In fact, I was starting to get just a touch sick to my stomach.
"Is something wrong?" Abigail asked, exasperated.
"N-No," I lied, not entirely able to hide my nervousness. I took a deep breath, and centered myself. "I'll be fine…" I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and pressed against the windowsill. It was meant to be a small jump, carrying me just far enough out to spread my wings, but I must have misjudged the strength of it because I ended up jumping about twenty feet into the air.
For a moment I hung there, the momentum of my jump tuned perfectly to the gravity of my new world. Then I began to fall, plummeting faster and faster. My eyes were still closed, but I could feel the wind tearing at my body as I fell.
Then my wings pumped, just once, and all movement ceased. It was not like the flight of an actual bird. It did not rely on my strength, or on air currents. It was simply that the act of flapping my wings activated my magic, keeping me afloat with barely any effort at all. It was like a spell - but distinctly not one. For one thing, I could cast other magic while flying. Which was good, since I'd be relying on illusion magic to hide my presence when I was flying above human towns.
"You're flying like a fledgling."
"I do not need the commentary," I grumbled, opening my eyes at last. Abigail was hovering before me. "Do you have the time to waste on such things, anyhow? I do not believe your magic power is strong enough to support prolonged flight."
"I'll be fine. I'll just let myself fall down a bit, and then catch myself. And I'll take breaks at the windows if I need them. That's how I usually do it."
"...That is a terrible way of making it down," I said, flapping my wings to move a little closer to her. Without asking her for permission, I slid my hands about her back and knees, taking her into a princess carry. She let out a little squeak, but didn't resist. "It is a long way down and I refuse to spend it all falling. It would mess with my hair." And give me serious nightmares besides. I had done my fair share of freefalling as Devilla, but now I had little things like the law of gravity screaming in the back of my head and telling me not to take any stupid chances.
"Your hair." Abigail looked like she was torn between laughing and yelling, but settled for simply crossing her arms instead. "You could have at least asked first."
"My apologies. Next time I will."
Abigail blinked, apparently startled, but otherwise remained silent in my arms. For several minutes the only sound was that of my wings, which would flap every few seconds.
"…So…" I started, when I could bear it no longer, "have you been my maid long?"
"...What the hell kinda question is that?" Abigail wanted to know, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't you know the work history of your own personal maid?"
"You know full well I do not." It was my turn to glare. "I am aware that I am a flawed hu… I mean. Ah. I am aware of my faults. Perhaps chief among them is the fact that I never paid attention to you, or anyone else. But I amtrying, Abigail. And I would appreciate it if you would meet me halfway."
Abigail was silent for a moment. It was difficult, as always, to tell exactly where her black eyes were focused, but I got the feeling that she was looking me up and down as best she could from her position.
"You've changed," she said, at last. "Ever since the Rite of Insight - it's like you've been a completely different person."
"Don't be ridiculous," I scoffed. "I am the same Devilla Satanne that I have always been. If anything has changed about me, it is merely that I've gained the wisdom and insight of my ancestors." On the outside, I seemed perfectly calm. My voice was steady, and my gaze was centered on where I thought Abigail's pupils were. On the inside, I was sweating buckets. My heart was beating like mad and it was only by exercising tight control over my breathing that I avoided the urge to hyperventilate. It wasn't just fear of rebellion, or not wanting to let Abigail know aboutTower Conquest. The terror I felt came from a far more surprising source: if Abigail found out that I used to be human, she would surely hate me.
"...The wisdom and insight of your ancestors." Abigail's voice was utterly flat. "Is that how you got so good at sex, all of a sudden?"
"Is that so strange? My ancestors were quite sexual creatures. They left quite a bit of knowledge behind in the archive." None of that was a lie, so far as I knew. I was pretty sure there was carnal knowledge I couldn't even dream of in that archive. Not that I'd ever get to find out.
"Knowing how to do something and being able to do it are two different things," Abigail countered. Emotion had crept back into her voice, in the form of anger. Her wings pressed back against my arms, taking her back up into the air before I could protest.
"You learned my name. You suddenly wanted to know how to cook - but even though you were acting like you've never been in a kitchen in your life, you know things I've never taught you, like how to cook with oil. Plus you're suddenly obsessed with the taste of salt, something that hasn't been in the tower since we were both babies."
"Th-The rite told me about the salt. It's supposedly delicious." My voice cracked a little under the intensity of Abigail's glare. I felt sweat beading on the back of my neck, too, and it was all I could do to keep meeting Abigail's eyes. If I looked away, I knew she'd lose all doubt.
"You said the chefs can't cook your favorite meal without it. A favorite meal that contains an ingredient I've never heard of, an ingredient you didn't know we had, and an ingredient we haven't had since you were a baby. Whoareyou?"
"I am Devilla Satanne. Queen of Dimona Tower. If you are so deluded as to not recognize your own ruler, then I do not know what to tell you." It felt like I was digging my own grave with every word. Abigail was looking more and more agitated, and more than a little disgusted with me, besies. There was also something else I noticed - she was sweating.
Although extreme temperatures in general seemed to have little effect on me, I could still tell that the air was fairly cold, what with us being up so high. Flying wasn't very physically exhausting, as I've already covered. I wasn't sure what could be causing Abigail to sweat, at all, and I certainly didn't understand why it was getting more profuse by the second.
"If you… can't… be honest… with me," Abigail said at last, panting. "Then I… can't… help you. I quit." Saying so, she closed her wings and began to plummet toward the ground beneath.
I stared after Abigail for a moment, mouth open, but no words coming out. I wanted to go after her, to beg her to reconsider, but I wasn't sure what I could say. Indeed, she'd made the decision based purely on what Ididsay, and unless I was willing to come clean and speak the truth I couldn't see Abigail changing her mind. As such, as much as it hurt my heart, I could do nothing but let her go.
"It's for the best," I told myself. "She would have come to hate me, eventually, regardless…" I didn't know why I'd been so scared of the idea. When I thought about it, her eventual hatred had always been a foregone conclusion. After all, I intended to abandon my people to the heroine, and flee into the sunset. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd ever actuallylikedme to begin with. We'd simply gotten to a point where she could tolerate me, for a while, and now we were past the point where she could do so. It was best to think of it that way. I had already learned the bare basics of how to cook, anyway. I could probably figure out the rest on my own. Though I'd still need to find a teacher on how to do laundry.
Below me, Abigail's wings opened. She came to an instant halt, before a window, and moved toward it. She was somewhere in the vicinity of the sixtieth floor, and I could only imagine she intended to let me pass before heading back up again. The very fact that she'd descended at all, when her home lay above, spoke volumes about how determined she'd been to put distance between us with what magic power she had left at her disposal.
Well, whatever. I would honor her decision, and fly past the window when I reached it. I would not follow her. I would not. I was washing my hands of her.
Or that was my intent, at least. But then Abigail's wings suddenly snapped shut. Her hand, outstretched toward the window, snagged hold of the ledge for a moment, but then the weight of her body slammed against the wall and she lost her grip. She was falling down below me, tumbling end over end.
Abigail. The closest thing I had to a companion. The one who was so close to figuring out my secret I could cry. The one who chose to leave me. For a moment, seeing her fall, my mind almost went blank. I had been in the midst of such a torrent of emotions already that I simply didn't know how to process the event. Yet even as my brain started to shut down, a single thought was running through my conscious, bringing with it an overwhelming impulse. Abigail was in trouble; I needed to save her.
There were many times in the past that I allowed myself to fall, while flying. It was generally accepted to be the easiest way of reaching lower floors. It saved magic power, and since it was easy enough to stop there was little risk associated with it. Just because it was the easiest way of reaching the lowest floors, however, did not mean that it was the fastest. If one truly wished to go somewhere in a hurry, and one was not afraid of the risk of descending too far, there was a far faster method at one's disposal.
Turning about in midair, I pointed my head toward the ground and moved my wings to flap at the air. I did not flap once every few seconds, as I had so far, but instead kept beating my wings as strongly as I could manage. I poured magic into my flight, simultaneously casting a spell to lower my wind resistance. My mental image was a cone of condensed air, moving with me, helping me to cut through the sky at a speed that would make bullets green with envy.
In an instant, I had overshot my goal, and found myself at the fortieth floor to Abigail's fiftyish. That was fine, though. I dropped my spell, and cast another, blowing wind magic up toward me and flapping my wings to come to a halt. Then I righted myself, using my wings to hold myself in place even as I continued to send wind rushing up above my head. The gusts I created caught Abigail, slowing her descent enough that I could safely grab her, and pull her flailing form against my chest. She was deep in panic, arms and legs flailing about, but I simply held her against myself and waited for her to calm.
"Are you alright?" I asked, once Abigail had stopped moving about.
"I… You saved me?" Abigail whispered, disbelief clear in her voice. As dark as her eyes were, I was absolutely sure her pupils were focused on mine.
"Who are you?" she asked, again.
"I am Devilla Satanne," I told her again. "The demon queen. And your mistress."
"...I quit, though…" Abigail's voice sounded numb. Perhaps that was to be expected, though.
"Then you can quit again after we are home," I told her, firmly. "I will not listen to it until then."
I expected her to object, but Abigail didn't say a word. Instead, she gave a slow, unsteady nod, furrowing her brow and looking me up and down once again.
"...In any case, we are here," I declared. The number "40" was drawn in golden paint above the nearest window. It twinkled lightly in the sunlight, as if to welcome us to our destination.
Landing lightly on the windowsill, I hopped down onto the narrow strip of landing that hugged the edge of the tower beneath it. I was careful, and made sure Abigail had proper footing, before turning my attention to looking about.
This area was just like in the game. A narrow staircase, winding its way around the outer tower, with empty space where the floor should be. The only solid space, other than the staircase, was a single, massive, iron plated column that started on the thirty first floor and continued to the ceiling of the fortieth. There were perches attached to it, where the various harpies rested. A platform extended from the column, as well, where the floor of the fortieth floor would normally be. The landing I stood on, which marked the end of a long staircase, was connected to the aforementioned platform by a bridge. Another bridge extended from there to more stairs on the other side.
All of this was part of what we referred to as "the battle path," a narrow route that encircled the tower, leading from the front door to my own throne room. It was the path that human invaders had to take, since they had neither the strength to scale the tower nor the ability to fly. It was a route that the rest of us avoided, for the most part - but it was impossible to avoid when visiting Mifa and her harpies. In fact, other than the battle way, Mifa's territory didn't directly connect to the rest of the tower at all. Travel from the forty first floor to the thirty ninth was done through a staircase hidden in the hollow column. If one wanted to directly commute between these floors and the residential districts of the tower they would be forced to use the windows. We didn't even have a teleportation circle set up for these floors, just to make absolutely sure invaders had no other routes available to them. It was a setup possible only because we had so many flyers.
The ruler of those flyers was currently on a perch, which looked somewhat like a gymnast's high bar. She was, as one might imagine of the harpy general, a cross between a woman and a bird. That is to say that she had short, bird-like legs, which connected to a mostly human body at the thighs. In place of arms she had wings, reminiscent of a hawk. Both the wings, and her skin, were a reddish brown.
Just like in the game. Mifa wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes. Neither were the other harpies.
"Queen Devilla!" Mifa called, surprise evident in her voice. "I'm sincerely surprised that you'd get off your fat ass to come see me."
"I was driven by a great and powerful need," I told her, not bothering to protest the insult. "I'm quite sure it'll seem petty - but youwilllisten to it, all the same, won't you?"
"As if I had a choice," Mifa laughed, shrugging her shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to bob, and the way those soft hills jiggled had me momentarily entranced. The bright pink peaks, standing in firm contrast to the dark skin, were practically begging for a kiss.
It was too bad Mifa had to open her mouth and ruin the effect.
"I'm curious what would drive such a spoiled girl as you to action, anyway."
"I need a map," I said, repressing my annoyance in favor of getting straight to the point. Mifa was never one to hold her tongue; the longer I was here the more insults she would fling.
"A map?" Mifa asked. "Are you planning to go somewhere, my queen? There's a lot of humans out there, so I really can't recommend it."
"I think I am powerful enough to take care of any humans I meet; but I'd rather avoid them. Which is why I was hoping for a map that included human settlements on it."
"I'm sure youcouldhandle it," Mifa agreed, shrugging again. I tried my best to ignore the little bounce of tits that accompanied it. "But the heroine will be of age, soon, and I'd rather you not instigate an attack earlier than necessary."
"As would I - which is why I ask, again, for maps of human settlements?" The last thing I needed was Lucy arriving on my doorstep before I finished my lessons. If I had to flee the tower before I even learned how to do my own laundry, I really would be helpless.
"Sorry - I can give you data on whereoursettlements used to be. You know, the ones we had to abandon when we all moved into the tower? The ones under the open skies? I hear they were nice. Don't suppose you have any intention to help the army reclaim them, any time soon?"
"Not at the moment," I confessed, speaking through gritted teeth. "I'd rather focus on our utter lack of intelligence at the moment, though."
"Really? I must admit to being curious about that myself - just how dumbareyou, Queen Devilla?"
"Dumb enough to putyouin charge of reconnaissance, apparently," I growled, unable to contain it any longer.
Mifa stared at me, coldly. When she spoke she did so slowly, as if talking to a child. "My girls can only fly so far in one sitting. Then they need to land. They aren't like birds, either, who can just rest a bit before taking to the air. They need time to regain their magic energy - time preferably spent in a safe place. Except thereareno safe places outside the tower, anymore, Queen Devilla. Especially not out near the human territories."
"...I see…" The flames of my ire were doused almost instantly. Mifa's words made an uncomfortable amount of sense, especially in light of what had just happened with Abigail. The dedicated flyers could probably go farther, but they would still be limited in how far. They probably wouldn't have energy to spare for illusions, either, meaning that they'd be spotted if they flew above a human settlement. That would make it even harder for them to find a place to land. There was no way they could properly survey the lands, like that.
"...Very well, then," I conceded, with a sigh. "I will settle for an out of date map - so long as it lists the continent, and our current location, I should be able to make… Is something the matter?" For some reason, Mifa was staring at me.
"I expected you to kick and scream about wanting my girls to do their jobs," Mifa admitted. "Honestly it's a little unnerving to have you act so reasonably. Or, well, reasonable foryouanyway."
Abigail, who had not said a word since reentering the tower, gave a firm nod at this.
"...Well. I'm sorry forunnervingyouwith my lack of tantrums. If you'll get me the map, I will be on my way and the two of you can speak at length about howmiserablemy attempts at being reasonable have made you." Perhaps that was a little harsh, but I was honestly still upset about what had happened with Abigail.
"Why do you want a map?" Mifa asked me, clearly not in any rush to fetch me one. "Are you looking for something in particular?"
"I intend to go see the ocean," I told her. "So long as it is within Five… no, even six hundred miles should be fine. So long as it is within that range, I should be able to make it back before nightfall." I wasn't afraid of running out of magic, even on a longer journey. I couldn't use magic to increase my aerodynamicsandcast an illusion, though, and since I wouldn't be able to route a path around any settlements I'd probably need to switch between the two fairly often. That was definitely going to limit my speed.
Mifa continued to stare at me, even after I gave my answer. Then she burst into laughter, folding a wing against her stomach and doubling her small body over. It got to the point where I was more concerned she might fall than I was turned on by the jiggling of her breasts, and I considered offering her a hand. Before I could do so, however, she suddenly straightened up again and focused her golden eyes on mine.
"The ocean, huh? It's true that you can probably fly faster and longer than my best soldiers - and you're in luck, too: the closest coast is a mere three hundred miles away. You won't even need a map, if you keep heading north. But I'll give you one, anyway. So long as you can answer one question to my satisfaction, that is."
"Requisitioning a map is well within my royal authority," I pointed out, a little irritated. "But if it'll get you to cooperate, fine. I'll listen."
"Good girl." The harpy smiled, showing off serrated teeth. "Now tell me - why the sudden interest in sightseeing?"
"I intend to gather salt. I've heard it's quite delicious." I was aware of Abigail stiffening next to me, but she had the good grace to keep her face well schooled. I was sure that Mifa noticed, all the same. But she didn't comment on it.
"Salt, huh?" Mifa said instead. "I've heard good things about salt. Though I guess asking you to share wouldn't do much good."
"Since you are going to the trouble of providing a map, I suppose I could present you with some salt as a reward," I offered, hoping to move this to a quick conclusion. I actually intended to gather salt for the whole tower; it would be possible with what I'd taken from the vault. If anyone questioned what a selfish girl like me was doing getting salt for everyone, I would simply tell them that I hadn't known how much I would need and that I'd gotten too much by mistake. If they really pressed, I'd spin some nonsense about how the chefs told me it would spoil, and I'd had no choice but to share. They'd think me a fool, but that was nothing new.
Mifa seemed to think about it for a moment, and then nodded. "Alright. I'll get you a map of the continent; and you get me salt. It's a deal. Want to seal it with sex?"
It was my turn to stare. "You… want to have sex. With me? I seem to recall once overhearing you say… What was it again? That anyone who had sex with me would best follow it up by checking for feather rot. I believe." I couldn't hide the irritation in my voice. While it was undeniably true that I'd deserved such comments, and worse, it still hadn't been pleasant to hear.
"That was then, this is now," Mifa told me, with a grin. "I've seen the way you've been staring at my tits."
"And what do you get out of it?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I get the map. You get salt. That part of our transaction I understand - what do you get from throwing sex into the mix?"
"Do demons need to get anythingbutsex out of something to be happy with it?" Mifa argued back.
"That…" That was a fair point, actually. We were all pretty casual with sex, when it came down to it. "...It's not as if I'm opposed, but it seems like it would be rather rude of me to have sex with you before I've even brought my companion home."
"I wouldn't mind it, actually," Abigail said, speaking up for the first time since our arrival. "Actually, it would really help if I could absorb some sexual energy, right now."
I wanted to glare at Abigail, for throwing me under the bus, but the sheer weariness in her voice stopped me. She was definitely out of magic energy.
"Very well," I conceded, at last. "But I will not allow you to bind me in the air," I told her. "I know full well what your tastes entail."
"Really, now? You haven't been spying on me, have you, Queen Devilla?" Mifa leaned forward on her perch, causing me to take a step backward.
"O-Of course not. It's simply that you are completely indiscreet." I of course knew her tastes from the game, but I was fairly confident in my bluff, all the same. Mifa said whatever she wanted, whenever she didn't have a reason not to, for one thing. And it wasn't as if her territory, without walls or floors, allowed for much discretion in bed.
"Well wherever you get your information, it seems you're missing a little bit of it," Mifa informed me. "I only use suspension play for those who can't fly. Ipreferto have sex in midflight. Unless you don't think you can keep up with it?"
"Hmph. Of course I can keep up with it." I was more confident than ever of my ability to stay in the air. My flying skill might lose out to Mifa's in terms of grace and technique, but my stamina would see me through to the end.
"Very well," Mifa said. "Come join me in the air." Flapping her wings twice, she rose up about halfway toward the ceiling. I gave Abigail a final glance, a little worried about leaving her, but she gave me an encouraging smile in response.
"I just hope you can feel the lust from down there," I said, flapping my own wings to fly toward Mifa.
I stopped a few feet from the harpy, my wings falling into an even pace with hers as we both hovered in front of each other. "Who makes the first move?" I asked.
"That right normally goes to the top. Though if you're asking, maybe you aren't as suited for the role as I expected you to be."
I didn't respond verbally; doing so would have only played into Mifa's talons. Instead, I reached out to grope one of Mifa's breasts, letting my fingers curve around the swell of her dark chest while my thumb brushed ever so lightly against the very tip of her pink peak.
"Hrnnn…" A soft noise slipped from Mifa's lips. She didn't miss a beat, though, lifting one of her legs until it ran perpendicular to her body, and using her talons to ever so gingerly tug at my crop top's boob window. One swift tug downward, and my tits popped out through the open space, nipples already stiff.
"It seems the cold is getting to me," I remarked, glancing down at my tits. I was trying to hide how horny I was, but the look in Mifa's eyes told me she wasn't convinced.
"The cold," she said, softly. "Yes. I've heard great and powerful demon queensallshare a weakness for it." With those words, Mifa lowered her lips toward my breast, letting her hot breath flow against my hard nipples. Despite the warmth, they only stiffened further.
"You are a vicious tease," I accused, giving her a harsh pinch to the nipple. She didn't let out so much as a squeak, in response, but I wasn't the sort to be discouraged so easily. Grabbing hold of Mifa's waist, I casually tossed her a few feet in the air. She actually squawked in surprise, this time, but my throw didn't have enough force in it for her to reach the ceiling and it was easy enough for her to stop the ascent with a few flaps of her wings. From there she moved into a horizontal position, glaring down at me. Except I wasn't where she expected me to be.
"Surprise!" I called out, from behind Mifa. She was horizontal, with her stomach toward the floor. I was vertical, my head positioned right behind her talons. Before she could so much as twist her head about, I grabbed hold of both her bird legs and pulled her thighs apart.
"You're fast," Mifa admitted, giving a test tug with one of her legs. She couldn't pull it out of my grip, though. With my strength, she could flap her wings with all her might, or stop moving them all together and drop like a stone, and it wouldn't make a difference. I would be able to hold her in place with ease. "Your technique's a little sloppy, but it's not bad. I'll admit that you caught me off guard - but what are you going to do to me now?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I laughed, kissing her inner thigh and nipping it lightly with my teeth. I'd only had sex once, in this lifetime, but I thought I'd done at least a passable job of it. I was looking forward to a repeat performance. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out."
"Not a bad idea," Mifa said, smiling at me. "I think I'll steal it for myself." She folded her wings. Her weight, as expected, wasn't nearly enough to make me drop her - but while my grip on her ankles remained secure, her sweet pussy was no longer in front of my lips. In fact, her head was now poised right in front of my thighs.
I considered letting Mifa drop after all. She'd catch herself long before she reached the thirty first floor. I was sure she had the magic power to spare. Iwas, but… the image of Abigail falling toward the ground flashed through my mind, and I hesitated. Mifa took advantage of that hesitation, using the tip of her wing to push up my red micro skirt, and then nipping at my black panties with her teeth. A few solid tugs, and I was forced to spread my legs just to keep the panties from falling off my ankles.
"What did you say you were going to do to me?" Mifa called up to me. "Make me cum my brains out? Let's see if you have any brains to lose, Queen Devilla." Her lips were coming closer and closer to me. I was about to be touched, sexually, for the first time in this lifetime. The first timeeveras a woman. It should have been exciting… but I didn't want to lose.
Flapping my wings, I shifted my body away from Mifa's lips, moments before they could touch my wet slit. Not waiting for her to protest, I moved my body into a horizontal position, and then started to lift up against Mifa's legs again. This time she wouldn't be able to simply drop out of my grip. Iwasgoing to get the first lick.
Suddenly something struck me in the side. The impact caused me to spin about, and allowed Mifa to twist out of my grip. I righted myself, flying upright again, and glaring about in an attempt to see for what had hit me. It didn't take me long to find the culprit: a sparrow harpy, even smaller than Mifa, had slammed into my side.
"I thought this was just between us," I protested, glaring at Mifa.
"I never said that. If you want to bring your little succubus maid into the fight, you're free to do so. Though I doubt she'll hold a candle to a hundred harpies."
I glowered at Mifa, not saying a word. There was no way I was bringing Abigail into the air after that earlier debacle. But at the same time, even I might be in trouble if a hundred harpies were against me. It was possible that I could take them all in a fight, and win - though I couldn't guarantee it - but I definitely couldn't manage thatandhave mindblowing sex with their leader at the same time.
"That's the Devilla I'm used to. Pouting because she can't have her way. It's almost a relief to see."
"...I don't know what you're on about. I'm the same spoiled girl I've always been."
"If you say so, Queen Devilla. But I can tell something's changed. Is it the maid, perhaps? Does she make you want to be a better person?"
"Perhaps." This was getting dangerous. I no longer cared who got the first lick in. I just wanted to have sex and get out of there, before I had yet another potential breach in my secrets.
"No," Mifa mused. "If it was love, you'd deny it. You, in love with a commoner? There's no way you'd give me a, 'perhaps,' that easily. That means it's something else…"
"Enough of this!" I moved to grab at her, again, but she ducked beneath my grip.
"I've touched a nerve, it seems. I wonder why? Change is a good thing, you know. Especially when it comes to spoiled brats like you."
"I havenotchanged," I insisted. "I am the same as I have always been!" I again attempted to grab her, but this time she flew up above me. I turned to glare up at her, but the moment I started to ascend, she folded her wings and dropped down toward the floor.
"Stop running away!" I snapped, turning about in midair, head toward the ground, and cutting off the magic to my wings so I would fall after her.
Except I didn't fall. Two of the larger harpies had grabbed a hold of me, each grabbing a hold of my thighs, and were flapping languidly to keep me aloft.
It would have been childsplay to pull away, of course. But doing so in a way that wouldn't slam them into each other was another matter. The selfish princess I used to be would have done it without a moment's hesitation, but the queen I had become was much less willing. From the look Mifa was giving me, she knew it, too.
"It seems you aren't as selfish as you claim, Queen Devilla," Mifa remarked, casually flying up to me. My panties still hadn't been pulled up, yet, and my skirts had fallen up toward my waist thanks to the new angle. Not only had I exposed my true nature to her, but my pussy, too.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I lied. I couldn't admit that I had changed. That I was a better person, now. Even though I thought Mifa might believe me, as things were, it simply wouldn't do my people any long term good.
"I'm sure you don't," Mifa agreed, tone dry. One of her legs stretched forward, the talon ever so delicately pinching at my nipple, eliciting a little whimper of pain. It hurt; but to my surprise, that pain felt rather good. I had never been into such things as Jacob, so I could only imagine it was my Devilla side. "Well. To the victor goes the spoils… or the spoiled, as the case may be."
Soft lips pressed against my inner folds. A tongue was pressed into my core, pushing its way against the outer edge of my opening for a moment before unceremoniously starting to work its way inside. It didn't feel like a human tongue; it was velvety and soft, a little too narrow at the end, andverylong. It seemed like it was built for digging into holes.
The tongue worked its way deep inside me, eliciting soft moans, then drew slowly out again. It flicked against my clit, the tip of it teasing against the clitoral hood, before curling about the button with shocking dexterity. Then it was back into my vagina, again, working its way deep. I could feel it inside me, feel it slipping along my inner walls. I was fairly certain a human woman didn't have too many nerves inside, yet I could somehow feel every movement within me. It was going deeper with each second, and I knew instinctively that it would soon reach a rather special spot.
But then Mifa's tongue pulled back. Slowly, inexorably, it moved further and further away from that special spot. I let out a whimper of need, mixed with irritation, but there was nothing for it. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't force her to touch me, after all.
"You could beg for it," one of the harpies clutching me pointed out, as if reading my mind.
I glared up at her naked form, trying not to focus on the way her breasts were just hanging in the air above me. I wasn't going to beg. I wouldn't. I couldn't. I hadsomedignity, after all; and besides, there were too many people watching.
"Be nice to her, girls," Mifa said, once she had her tongue back. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think she's actually making progress as a demonic being."
The tongue darted out again, before I could respond. Its movement within me brought forth a moan, cutting off any remarks I might have made about her comment. Again, her tongue worked deep within me, closer and closer to the special spot. I was hoping she would touch it, this time, but even if she didn't I knew that I would not last long. There was a warmth building up inside my core, a pressure that was pushing me closer and closer to the precipice. It was a very different sensation, compared to when I had been a man, and it wasn't something I had real experience with as a woman, yet I knew without a doubt that it was coming.
Too soon, the tongue darted back. I gnashed my teeth, feeling the precipice I was so close to receding back into the distance. I didn't say a word, though, afraid that Mifa would only use the information to tease me more. I simply held my tongue, and hoped hers would do what needed to be done.
Mifa, for her part, did not speak this time. She simply teased her tongue against my clit, again, sending sparks through my entire being and sending me rushing back toward the precipice she had so cruelly denied me a mere moment before. She stopped short, of course, but since her tongue dived right into my body there was no more distancing myself from the edge. I was going to cum, one way or another, andsoon, too.
At that moment I felt the tongue pushdeepwithin me, deeper than it ever had before. I felt it brush against something within me, a special spot that had never felt contact before. It was like having my clit touched, except even more intense. On top of that it was happeninginsideme, deep within my core. All that, combined with the sheer novelty of the touch, was almost more than I could take, right then and there. I was so close - I knew that I would tip off the precipice with just the slightest nudge. Just continued prolonged contact would do it. Hell, even just the decision to cum might be enough.
I hesitated, though. In the stories Jacob used to read, the first time a former guy came as a girl was always important, even life changing. I already identified as a girl, so I wasn't sure that it would matter much, but the thought that something inside me might irrevocably change sent a thrill of fear and excitement from me, keeping me tethered to the edge.
Then I felt the claws about my thighs tighten, sharp pain shooting through my legs at the same time as the tongue's tip teased my g-spot. The mix of pleasure and pain made the heat swell within me, shoving me off the precipice, and sending me tumbling headfirst into pleasure. I screamed, instinctively squeezing my thighs together. That slammed the harpies against each other, not hard enough to make them fall but hard enough to make them drop me. I was only distantly aware of the fall, though, screaming for an entirely different reason as pleasure tore through my being.
When I came too, the harpies had grabbed hold of me again. Despite the fact that they must have grabbed me with all their might, there was no blood, and very little pain. I was fairly certain that I was hard to injure, actually; the pain I'd felt earlier had probably been due to the situation increasing my sensitivity, rather than actual damage being inflicted on my body. Still, it had been a delightful experience.
"I can handle it myself, from here," I informed the harpies, gently tugging myself free and spreading my wings wide. After taking a moment to pull up my panties, I flapped my wings a few times and flew up to the platform. A moment later Mifa flew down to land upon her perch.
Abigail was sitting on the floor, her skirt and underwear both pushed down around her ankles, her fingers wet and a satisfied smile on her lips. I was fairly sure she'd recovered her magic power during all that.
"Well that was certainly enlightening," Mifa remarked. "But I suppose for now you'll want your map…" A harpy flew up to Mifa, holding out a rolled up piece of parchment. Mifa took it, in one claw, before holding it out to me, in turn. "Go on. And don't forget your promise - I'll be wanting salt."
"You'll get it," I promised, taking the map and putting it in my pouch. "But for now, I fear I must get this one back up the tower and perhaps into a bed…"
"My. Someone's certainly concerned about the wellbeing of her friends," Mifa said, a small smile on her lips.
I chose not to comment, simply leaning down to pick up Abigail in the now familiar princess carry. From there, I flew toward the window.
"Do come back, sometime!" Mifa called after me.
I didn't respond, simply heading out the window, and toward the top of the tower. Flying back into the window we had come from, I carried Abigail to the couch and carefully laid her down upon it. She was quite tired out, eyes closed and a peaceful expression on her lips. I was glad to see it. Even if I might never get to again.
I turned to head back toward the window, trusting that Abigail could see herself out. Before I made it more than a foot, however, a hand reached out to grab my shirt.
"Your boobs are still hanging out," Abigail murmured, sleepily.
"...So they are." I carefully turned my boob door back into a window, a small smile on my lips. "Thank you. For taking care of me so far."
"...It doesn't have to be over," Abigail whispered, softly. "You could tell me the truth."
I hesitated. I wanted to tell her. Having a confidante sounded quite nice. But even if she didn't tell anyone that I'd messed up the rite, even if she accepted that I had knowledge of a past life, which in turn had given me knowledge of this world via a porn game - could she accept that I was a former human? A formerman? I didn't know that I could stand to see the look on her face when she found out. If I was going to lose her companionship, regardless, wasn't it better to choose the route where I couldn't be betrayed? Where she hated me the least amount possible, given the circumstances?
Yet if there was even a chance that she would stay by my side…
"We'll talk when I get back," I said. I was only delaying the inevitable. Whatever decision I made, it would all end the same. Even if she accepted me, the fact remained that I would eventually be fleeing to live in hiding among humankind. There was therefore no future in which we remained like this for good.
I knew that.
But still. For just a little while longer. I wanted to keep her by my side.
"You promise?" Abigail demanded, sitting up.
"I promise," I said, taking her hand in mind and giving it the lightest possible squeeze. Then I let her go, and moved toward the window.
It was high time I got my salt.
Thanks for reading! This is actually one of my favorite chapters. Partly because of the developing relationship between Abigail and Devilla - something I'm working on building up even more for the published version of this chapter - and partly because... Well... Mid-air sex combat! You have no idea how much fun it is just getting to say I wrote that.
In any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
My flight to the ocean was exhilarating at first. I flew as fast as I could, using magic to shield myself from the wind as I shot through the skies. I'm not actually sure what my top speeds were. I think it's safe to say that I failed to break the sound barrier since there was no sonic boom, but the landscape did turn somewhat blurry beneath me. That was saying something, too, considering how sharp my eyesight seemed to be. When I slowed down over a forest, I could see the individual leaves on the trees, despite being easily fifty feet above them.
Unfortunately, my enthusiasm didn't last, and within two hours of flying, I had already started to grow bored. Flight had always been part of my life as Devilla when it came down to it, and it was only my memories of being a flightless Jacob that had temporarily kindled fear and excitement within me. Diving after Abigail had forced me to confront that terror, however, and after testing my capabilities for a couple of hours, I couldn't help but feel that the excitement was wearing off as well. Eventually, I stopped focusing on speed, dropping my air resistance spell and instead projecting the illusion of empty sky beneath myself. With that spell running in the back of my mind, I could allow my mind to wander without fear of being spotted from below.
Unfortunately, my mind kept wandering back to Abigail. More specifically, I kept asking myself what I was going to tell her when I got back. I definitely didn't want to reveal that this world mirrored a porn game from my old world. I wanted to avoid telling her the exact nature of my past life, too. Humans weren't precisely regarded with fondness among us demons, after all, and men were literally a foreign concept. Telling her that I wanted to let the heroine incite rebellion before fleeing the tower myself also seemed like a bad move. It was for the sake of my people, but it was only my knowledge of Tower Conquest that made me think that path would work out alright.
With all that said, I really wasn't sure what I could tell Abigail. If I stuck only to what was safe, she would probably leave me. Since she was the closest thing I had to a companion in this world, I really didn't want that. Besides, if I was honest with myself, I really did want to tell someone at least some of the truth. Perhaps even all of it, one day. A confidante would make me feel so much better… but that was also the exact thing that gave me pause.
A confidante would make me feel better. It would likely do the opposite to whoever I confided in. As such, I couldn't help but worry that I was simply being a selfish brat again. Wanting to keep a companion who didn't even like me. Wishing to tell her things that would only bring her distress. If people thought Abigail was too close to me, it might even cause her trouble after the coup. If I really cared about her, it would surely be best to simply let her leave me. Yet even though my plan would doubtlessly end with her hating me, anyway, I still didn't want to prematurely sever the relationship.
In the end, I failed to come to a conclusion. Instead, I got so lost in my thoughts that I blew straight by the beach and had to spend five minutes flying back toward shore.
When I had again reached the beach, I was faced with another conundrum. I was wearing heels like I always did. Black ones, that day, with three inches of heel and an open toe that showed off my black nails. My feet never grew tired or hurt, and I tended to fly when I was in a rush, so I rarely wore flats. It was hardly ever a problem. Hardly ever a problem. But I'd never before needed to land on a beach absolutely littered with seashells. They were literally everywhere, some big and some small, some in the shape of cones and others that looked like slightly concave circles.
If I had been walking, it wouldn't have been a problem. I could have carefully made my way through what little space wasn't covered in shells, or perhaps crushed them beneath my heels through sheer force, or pressed them so deep into the sand that it wouldn't be an issue anymore. Trying to alight upon such an uneven surface, however, was a whole other matter. I would be off-balance from the start and would likely fall before I could get proper footing.
In the end, I had little choice but to fly even further ashore, landing on solid ground and making my way back down the beach. I was possibly a touch annoyed at the detour. Enough to stomp my way through the sand instead of daintily picking my way across it, at the very least. Eventually, however, I came to a stop near the edge of the shore.
"Well then," I said to myself, as cold water washed over my ankles and then receded back into the sea. "What's the best way to do this…" The most traditional way of getting salt from the ocean was probably to separate some water from the sea and then boil it. I hadn't thought to bring any materials to hold the water, though, so that was out. In which case, why not take a more direct approach? Rather than trying to get rid of the water, I decided to simply focus on the salt.
First, I spread my magic power through the water before me. Then, when I'd suffused a decently sized patch of ocean with my magic, I focused on isolating the salt. Finally, in much the same manner as I might pull a ball of dirt from the ground into the sky, I drew the salt directly from the water and into the open air.
Water surged up in response to my magic, drawn from the simple force of so much salt rising upward. A moment later, the water crashed back into the ocean, while the salt that had come with it remained hovering in midair. The pure white crystals looked as beautiful to me as they did tasty. Or almost, anyway.
Stretching a hand toward the salt, I curled my fingers toward myself in a gesture to come hither. It was a completely unnecessary piece of showmanship, without even an audience to impress, but I just couldn't resist adding a little flair to what was otherwise a simple process. My casting quickly drew the salt toward me, and I soon had a veritable cloud of it above my head. From there, I simply opened up my pouch, pointed imperiously toward the opening, and began to funnel the salt directly inside.
Of course, a single pouch would generally be able to hold only so much salt. The amount I had conjured was far too much for the bag I carried, which was only a little larger than a man's fist. Despite that, I had no concerns at all about being able to fit in as much sodium chloride as I wanted. In fact, despite all the salt that I'd already poured inside it, the bag still looked as empty as when I had started. Just as it always would. That was the nature of the holy item I had taken from the treasury, known colloquially as "the empty bag." It would reject sapient creatures, and it was impossible to make anything larger than your average human fit in one piece, but it could hold an infinite number of small items. On top of that, no matter how much you stuffed it, it would always look empty. And, much like the holy sword that Luci brought down alongside it, it couldn't be so much as lifted by anyone but its current owner.
So long as the owner remained alive, at least.
Pushing negative thoughts aside, I waited a few seconds for the ocean to lap against me, and recede, and then repeat the process all over again. Once I was convinced that enough salt had suffused the water, I repeated my extraction process and channeled another cloud of white crystals into my bag. Saturating so much of the ocean with magic power would eventually make a dent in even my magic capacity, so I mixed up my mental image a bit on the third occasion. Instead of saturating the water and coating each bit of salt individually with my power, I spread a solid sheet of magic power under the ocean. I then focused on the idea of catching at the salt while letting water through. I then lifted the sheet of magic up and out of the water, curving the edges inward to avoid any spillage, and brought up another good portion of salt. This turned out to be a far more efficient use of my magic power, so I kept it up. It quickly grew boring and a little tiresome, but within another hour or so, I thought I finally had enough salt to at least start distributing it through the tower. I'd probably have to make more trips in the future, though.
"Maybe I could set up a teleportation circle?" I mused aloud. I could build a small stone structure and stick one inside it. Then I'd be able to transport from the tower to here with ease. Of course, I had never actually cast any sort of spatial magic myself before. I also wasn't sure humans wouldn't be able to make use of it if I created one, which seemed like a pretty significant security risk. And finally, there was the fact that I had never really paid attention to any of the details when it came to the teleportation circles at home. Since I'd always had someone else handle the "finicky bits," I wasn't sure exactly sure how teleportation circles were supposed to look, let alone how they worked.
I thought perhaps the circles I always used maybe matched? In which case, it might have had something to do with imagining the "sameness" between two places and connecting them. There might be other ways of pulling it off, too. A mental image of folding the space you're in so that it touches the space you want to be in? Or maybe one could literally open a wormhole between two areas, somehow? The only thing I knew for sure was that I didn't know nearly enough. Which meant I'd be flying back and forth for now.
"Maybe I should clear some of the seashells, then, at least," I sighed. A good portion of them would probably come back, but it really was ridiculous how many of them there were. I supposed that was what happened when there weren't any tourists to pick the things up, though. Indeed, the beach seemed utterly untouched by human hands, let alone demonic ones. No tourists, no local beachgoers, not even a fisherman for as far as the eye could see. This entire area had been left alone for who knew how long before my arrival. I could only imagine that helped make it a pretty good breeding ground for shellfish.
"...I got what I came here for," I reminded myself. "I shouldn't get greedy…" Still, if one really thought hard about it, it wasn't actually salt that had brought me there. It was the desire for something delicious that had drawn me to the sea. And I couldn't imagine anything more delicious than a good old fashioned clambake.
Shaking my head at how easy I was to sway, I decided to collect a little more of the ocean's bounty. Walking along the coast of the sea, I sent a wave of magic through the ground, feeling for spaces where there wasn't earth - where something had burrowed into the wet sand, in other words. From there, I used my hands to dig at the ground, even going so far as to get on my knees. I didn't pay any mind to getting dirty. I wasn't sure it would count as a proper washing, but I was fairly sure I could at least get any sand out of my clothes with a little magic after I was done.
My efforts were rewarded, too. I found many of the clams I wanted. There were oysters, as well, which I took eagerly. I remembered them being called aphrodisiacs back on Earth, and while I was reasonably sure that was more myth than fact… Well, I wasn't on Earth anymore. I was on Solla. And considering this world mirrored a porn game, I wasn't willing to rule anything out. I grabbed as many oysters as I could find.
I needed seaweed, too, if I wanted a clambake. I used an air shield to keep away the water while searching the shore for some. and ended up revealing some mussels stuck to a set of submerged stones. Of course, I took them. My bag kept anything inside it in stasis, meaning that my seafood wouldn't spoil no matter how long it took me to eat all of it. Every morsel would remain safe and fresh right up until I was ready to feast.
In the end, I ended up with considerably more oysters than anything else. If you took all the mussels and clams I had and multiplied them by two, you still wouldn't have enough to match all the oysters in my bag. They must have been reproducing like crazy, which made me wonder again about the possibility of them being an aphrodisiac for real in this world. I would definitely have to try some later.
For now, though, I really had to get moving. I'd spent so long on seafood that the sky had started to darken, and heavy clouds had begun to fill the sky without my noticing. It looked like a storm was brewing, and if I didn't get home soon, I might just get caught in it.
Lightning flashed through the sky above me, and the clap of thunder that followed felt almost like a physical force. The storm had been going on for half an hour, but the fear of getting electrocuted had kept me from trying to get above the clouds. I was instead hovering in midair, studying the map in a desperate bid to find somewhere to weather the storm. Even though the map was hopelessly outdated, I had to hope that the villages listed on it still existed in some form or another.
I was currently floating above a river, which forked in two different directions beneath me. The river was depicted on the map, thankfully, and apparently, following either branch would eventually bring me to a village. I decided to go with the left side, simply because my map showed it as being near a major road. They seemed more likely to have an inn or tavern where I could wait out the weather, and they would hopefully be more used to strangers.
With the map helping me, finding the village of Derrin was easy enough. With my illusion spell mimicking the dark clouds above me, I was able to fly directly above it without fear of being spotted. Well, not that there was anyone about to spot me. I couldn't help but notice that the fields and streets were empty and that the windows were all carefully shuttered. Were they expecting the storm to be that bad?
I made my descent a little ways outside of the village, choosing to land directly on the dirt road. I altered the illusion I was casting as I landed, deciding for now that I would simply darken my hair to test whether that would do as a disguise. If it did work, I'd likely want to get my hand on some brown dye. So long as I had a bottle of the stuff with me, I could simply use magic to quickly apply it whenever I feared human company. Stripping the pigment, afterward, would be an even simpler spell. This was all assuming that humans would let me get away with black nails and purple eyes, though.
I began to walk toward the village proper. There were two large stone walls around the town, one surrounding the fields and another encircling the buildings. Only the latter had a gate, however, and even then, it was clearly built solely to keep wild animals at bay. The locking mechanism was a simple latch, and the bars were wide enough apart for me to simply reach in and unlock it. From there, I simply strolled into the village, moving rapidly toward my first meeting with humans.
I was honestly a little nervous. Even beyond fearing for my disguise, I was about to encounter humans for the first time in this life. For the first time in this world. How would humanity differ on Solla compared to Earth?
Judging by the heroine, I knew humans at least could have orange eyes. Was that the result of magic affecting human evolution? Or was it perhaps unique to the heroine herself? It could merely be a reflection of the angels' influence. I hoped not - I couldn't alter my eye color with anything other than magic, and if I had to maintain a spell constantly, just to spend time with humans, then I could go ahead and kiss my plan of living among them goodbye. Even if I could manage to cast the spell every moment I was in public, it would be pretty much impossible to work as an adventurer if I couldn't use my magic and had to hide my inhuman strength.
"If only it was possible to cast two spells simultaneously," I grumbled, walking down the road. It wasn't possible, though. I wasn't entirely sure of the theory behind it, but while spells could be used in conjunction with magical abilities, it was only possible to wield a single actual spell at any given time. It was still quite convenient compared to Earth, where one couldn't use magic at all, but there was no denying that the system had some severe vexations baked into it.
Above me, another bolt of lightning struck across the sky. It was followed by a peal of thunder, which made it sound as if the sky itself had been torn asunder. Then the rain began to fall. Thick, heavy drops struck the dirt road, turning the tightly packed earth into slick mud that caught at the heels of my shoes. The droplets further struck against me, plastering the thin fabric of my clothing against my body.
I fought the urge to run, too worried that my heels would lose traction in the mud. I couldn't use magic to get rid of the water pelting me, either, not if I wanted to maintain my illusion of having brown hair. I had no choice but to walk through the village, peering at the various buildings and searching for a proper place to rest.
Most of the houses I saw looked to be residential, but one, in particular, boasted a second story. A sign hung in front of the door, depicting a bed and a mug of beer. Even without any lettering, I could recognize this as an inn. The windows were shuttered, and the door was closed, but a faint light could be seen emanating from the cracks in both.
I grabbed hold of the door's handle and turned it but hesitated on the final push. I knew I was dwelling a bit, but this really would be my first time among humans, as Devilla. What exactly would it be like?
As a descendant of Luci, I was supposed to honor the goddess's will and value the sanctity of all sapient life. Tradition held that I would only raise my hand to fight the heroine, herself - and only after she'd thoroughly soaked her soul in violence and grown too strong for mortals to handle, through the angels' power. All of which was easy to say, but… I had honestly always hated humans, a bit, in this life. The demons were my people, after all, and these naked apes were their oppressors. They were the ones who'd taken our lands, destroyed our homes, and killed so many of our kind.
They were the reason I had no mother in this life. Their thirst for war, their conviction that they were in the right, and their thrice damned belief that humanity could only rest when I and all of mine were wiped from this world - all of it, together, made my blood boil. When I opened the door, would I see people on the other side? Or would I see enemies?
I wasn't here to cause trouble. If I couldn't control my temper, I would excuse myself before things went wrong. It was vital for me to know, in any case. Even if everything else went according to plan, I would hardly be able to live among humans if just seeing one made my blood pressure rise.
Taking a deep breath, I shifted my grip on the knob and swiftly pulled the door open. There were humans on the other side, just as I expected. They were primarily gathered around a single wooden table, though a few people were off to the side, rolling dice atop half a barrel. Among them, I saw green and blue hair, paired with violet and orange eyes, as well as more traditional colors. I didn't see a single person with pure white hair, though, so it seemed that deciding to darken my tresses might have been right on the money.
The people themselves seemed the simple sort. Their clothes were much drabber than what we had in the demon tower and looked to be made of rougher fabric. They also covered considerably more of their bodies, which might have had something to do with the way everyone was staring at me. I hadn't really thought about it, but I was wearing a backless, black, cropped halter top with a boob window, a very short red skirt, and a pair of black heels that showed off my "painted" toenails. Rather than ending in the furious rage that I had feared, my first encounter with humans might just end up killing me through sheer embarrassment.
"Ah…" I started, then stopped. My throat felt like there was a solid lump of something dry caught in it, and no matter how I swallowed, I couldn't get it down. Everyone was staring at me. They weren't hostile glares, merely confused and curious looks, and yet they had me pinned like a butterfly beneath glass.
"I ah…" I coughed faintly, then thumped a hand against my chest as if trying to clear away some congestion. "I am Eena. I am on a… ah…" The world seemed to slow for a moment as I realized that I had failed to come up with a ready-made excuse for traveling about without an escort or any luggage. My mind started to race, but all I could come up with was a rather pathetic excuse. "I'm on a journey of self-improvement, seeking to increase my strength by living off the land. But uh. The land got wet, so I thought I might come inside until it dried off."
For a moment, the inn was utterly silent. Everyone simply stared at me, no doubt turning my words over and over in their heads. Which was honestly a better reception than I deserved, with a lie like that one. If I'd been in their shoes, I'd have tossed the stranger out on her ear.
"It must have been hard," one of the men rumbled, after a moment, sliding off his stool and onto his feet. He had broad shoulders, and his well-muscled arms went fairly thick on the hair. "A girl like you, out in the cold and the rain. Why don't I buy you a drink? Maybe some food. Get you nice and warmed up. We can have a conversation about what it's like, living off the land."
I'd never actually been hit on by a man, in this life or my last, but it seemed that particular vein of good fortune had just been depleted. Still, I hesitated, caught between relief that this green-haired man wasn't pressing my story and irritation that he was only accepting it because he wanted in my pants. Being around humans meant being around men, though, some of whom would inevitably flirt with me. I'd simply have to shut them all down as firmly as I could.
"...Thank you, but I can buy my own food and drink," I told him, at last.
"You sure?" the man pressed, leaning forward a little. "Tasha runs a pretty pricey establishment. You didn't hear it from me, but I think she overvalues her stew a bit."
"I'm quite certain," I confirmed, trying not to flinch. It was important to remain firm when turning a man down. Even the relatively nice ones could prove shockingly stubborn if you gave them false hope.
"Well, if you're that determined to pay for your own meal," the gentleman grumbled, settling back down on his stool.
"I am," I confirmed, again, giving him a firm nod. Even though I absolutely wasn't. Actually, I wasn't sure how I was going to pay at all. It was embarrassing to admit, but I'd never actually handled my own cash during my life as Devilla. As a result, I'd all but forgotten that managing one's own money was a thing, to begin with. I had taken some coins from the treasury but, even if I could pass my demonic currency off as human coinage, there was the small fact that all of it was stamped with a likeness of my own face. I also had a couple gemstones meant for trading, but my brief walk through the village didn't lead me to believe these people had anything so niche as a jeweler on hand.
"Alright, alright," Sir Green Hair agreed, "but don't come crying to me when your wallet's empty at the end of the night, you hear?"
"Oh, let it go, Jackson!" a blue-haired woman cried out, slamming her fist against the table with enough force to send her mug rattling. Or at least I thought it was a mug. It appeared to be made of leather, held together by tar. A blackjack, perhaps? I'd never seen one before, but I'd read about them during my previous life as part of a late-night wiki dive.
"After three rejections, even you should be able to get it through your thick head that she isn't interested," the woman continued, grabbing hold of her mug and taking a long swig before slamming the leather vessel back down on the table. "Besides, I think the local girls you're already sleeping with might have a few objections to you hounding a stranger."
"I'm not mad," volunteered a blonde woman, sitting on Jackson's left. "But I think I'll be spending a little more time with Thomas and Ashton than I usually do if you catch my meaning."
"And I'll be spending extra time with Dina," added the girl sitting across from Jackson. She had purple hair, blue eyes, and crossed arms. While the first girl's face was a careful mask of neutrality, this one was scowling fiercely in Jackson's direction.
"W-Wait a minute," Jackson stammered, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "You don't think I actually meant anything by all that, do you? I was just trying to be a gentleman. She's not even my type! You know I prefer more vibrant hair colors!"
"You really are soaked," Miss Blonde Hair commented, eyeing me up and down. "Between that and the fact that you seem to be missing about half your clothes, you must be fairly chilled."
"Yeah," Miss Purple Hair added. "Why don't you take a seat at the table and order up some stew? I think Jackson was about to offer up his stool."
"Like hell I was!" Jackson protested. "There's an empty seat right next to me."
"That's funny. Do you see any empty stools on this side of the table, Lissera?"
"Why no, I don't. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only empty seats are the ones next to the kitchen. And we wouldn't want to make this poor, soaking wet woman walk all the way down there, now would we, Monica?"
Both girls turned their eyes toward Jackson as they spoke. Lissera was glaring daggers, but it was the look on Monica's face that sent a shiver down my spine. She had a faint smile on her lips as if she were mildly amused by the whole situation, but her gaze was set to a temperature best reserved for freezers.
"...Show a little concern for a stranger, and suddenly you're out in the cold," Jackson muttered, standing. His voice was pitched low, and his words were mumbled, likely not even loud enough for Monica to hear from her position right beside him. My ears picked it up all the same, though, if only because I was listening for it. Despite his anger, his muttering didn't sound like the sort that would cause me any trouble. Indeed, he was obediently trudging toward the end of the table.
Of course, that left me standing at the front with about a dozen stares focused in my direction.
"...Well?" Monica asked me after a moment, gesturing to the now-vacated stool. The faint smile was still on her lips, but now the amusement was actually reflected in her eyes. "Are you going to take a seat, or aren't you?"
"Hold on," Lissera protested, standing up from her seat and walking toward me. I stood stock-still as she strode toward me, eyeing her warily. I hoped she wasn't planning to blame me for the situation. I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, but if she kicked up a fuss, it was entirely possible the other villagers would take her side on the matter.
A prickly sensation ran across my entire body for a moment, and I realized with a start that the woman's magic was washing over me. It didn't feel very powerful; nothing I couldn't defend against, at the very least. But if I fought back, it would require dropping the illusion on my hair. The only other defensive option available to me, though, was to incapacitate the caster through physical methods. I had the feeling that wouldn't go over well with the other villagers, either.
The prickling intensified, and I realized with a start that I was already too late. The spell was being cast, and I'd have no choice but to endure it at this point. Thankfully there didn't seem to be enough power in this spell to deal any real damage to me, but I still didn't like the idea of taking this woman's scorn when none of this was my fault.
Except, instead of a rush of pain or a blast of heat, the sensation I felt was… Dry? The water that had been clinging to my body was suddenly pooled at my feet, spreading outward across the floor. And Lissera, who'd done it, was smiling in front of me.
"...Thank you," I managed, after a moment of staring at her in shock. "I'm afraid I ran through my magic capacity while trying to escape the storm…"
"Well, hey, it's nothing special," Lissera protested, smiling brightly at me. "It's not nearly enough to apologize for Jackson, anyhow. He's a good lay, but I swear he's the absolute worst to be around - err… No offense, Monica," Liserra hurried to add, shooting a worried glance at the blonde woman.
"It's fine," Monica replied, with a sigh, shaking her head sorrowfully. "I know I'm the only one in town fool enough to actually date the man."
"I think everyone but Jackson knows that," Lissera responded, with a laugh, slapping at her thigh.
"But seriously," Liserra continued, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear as she smiled at me, "Jackson's as much my lay as her boyfriend. I feel a bit responsible. Let me buy you a bowl of stew to make up for it?"
"Well… I am rather low on funds," I admitted, begrudgingly moving toward the stool. I lowered myself carefully onto the flat wooden surface, glad that my ass provided a little of the cushioning that my seat was reluctant to give.
"Hey, Tasha!" Lissera yelled out, directing her gaze to an open door toward the back. "Can you put another bowl of your famous stew on my tab? We've got a hungry traveler here."
"Aye, and a cute one, too, from all the fuss everyone's making!" a loud voice called back. A moment later, what I could only assume was the innkeeper emerged from the backroom. Tasha was a somewhat portly, middle-aged woman with short-cropped brown hair that stopped directly at her neck's nape. Her arms seemed more thick with fat than muscle, yet she was somehow supporting a large cask on one shoulder, with one hand, and holding a wooden bowl in the other. She placed the meal on the table in front of me and then deposited the cask on the floor with a heavy thud. "Who wants a refill?"
Several of the leather mugs were lifted into the air, and Tasha began the task of gathering and refilling them. That seemed to mark the end of Staring at the Stranger time, as the majority of them quickly went back to their food and drinks.
"So what brings you to our little out of the way village?" Lissera asked me, just as I was reaching out to pull my stew closer.
"Like I said, I'm on a journey of self-improvement," I told her, reluctantly turning my attention away from the stew. I was actually getting fairly hungry, but there was something about what Lissera said that intrigued me. "I thought this road was fairly popular, though?"
"Popular?" Lissera let out a short, derisive laugh. "Maybe fifteen years ago. I don't really remember it, but we supposedly got a lot of merchants back before the kingdom completed that road through the Dorrin Plains. Whoever told you that we're popular now was either messing with you or incredibly out of date.
But anyway, I'd rather talk about you than this dusty old place," Lissera informed me, with a smile. "You keep saying you're on a journey of self-improvement, right? Well, what are you trying to improve?"
"I don't know myself," I told her, shrugging my shoulders. "My mother's last wish was that I travel the world and discover my place in it."
"I. I see," Lissera whispered, eyes wide. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"It's fine," I promised, trying not to grimace at her earnest reply. I'd only told the best lie available to me. It was simple enough to remember and vague enough that I wouldn't have to come up with a bunch of details. On top of that, I suspected people would be unwilling to strictly question me on any subject that involved a dead parent. I did feel a bit guilty for using my mother that way, but I didn't think she'd mind if it kept me from being discovered.
It still didn't feel great to be playing on people's sympathies, though.
"I'm sorry for your loss," Monica said, speaking up from beside me for the first time since I'd sat down. There was a distant look in her eyes as she spoke to me as if she wasn't entirely present in the conversation. After a second, however, her gaze focused on me. "I do have to ask, though. If you're traveling on your lonesome, without funds, and with no apparent wares, just how are you supporting yourself?"
"Well, I've mostly been doing odd jobs in return for lodgings," I told them, relying on my experience as Devilla to smoothly lie. "But I'm actually thinking of joining the adventurer's guild next time I'm in a big city. Maybe start taking on some jobs…"
"The adventurer's guild?" Lissera asked me, voice breathy and excited. "I mean, I guess that makes sense. I knew you were strong the moment you walked in - just the fact that you're traveling alone in horned wolf territory shows that."
"Horned wolf territory?" I asked, brow furrowing. "You mean those beasts are actually near the town?" I didn't actually know much of anything about horned wolves. There were no horned wolf monster girls, so far as I knew, and if my teachers had ever brought them up, then I hadn't been paying attention. Still, it was relatively easy to guess what they were, and having them near a human settlement hardly seemed favorable.
"You didn't know?" Lissera asked, mouth opening into a small "o" of surprise. "I guess the word's still spreading. The merchants certainly learned it fast enough, though. Not that we ever got many of them down here, but now we aren't getting any…"
"It's something of a problem," Monica contributed, frowning. "We grow plenty of food to support ourselves, but we're not entirely self-sufficient. If we can't sell our crops or spend our money… Well. One of the villagers actually had a horse, old as it was, so they're taking it down to Mirral - the city down south, I mean. He'll be putting up a request at the adventurer's guild, actually."
"I see," I murmured, noncommittally. This wasn't my problem. It was a human concern. And I wasn't even an adventurer, yet, so I had no place taking on their requests for them, besides. Still. "How many of them are there?"
"We don't know," Lissera confessed. "Nobody's really gotten a good count. But we hear the howling at night. And we saw how they descended on the last merchant who actually dared to come down here…"
"They sound… Aggressive," I commented, again trying to keep as noncommittal as possible. This really, truly, absolutely wasn't something I needed to stick my nose into. Just because Liserra used her magic to dry me and bought me stew. It was all an apology for that asshole boy toy of her's, anyway. I was under no obligation to do anything at all.
I kept repeating that in my mind, but it didn't stop my stomach from churning.
"I do hope you aren't planning anything, Miss Eena," Monica remarked, reaching out to grab my bowl and pulling it closer to me. "Twenty wolves isn't anything a would-be adventurer should tackle solo."
"That's right," Liserra chimed in, grabbing hold of the wooden spoon and handing it to me. "You're not even an adventurer yet, anyway, right? Just focus on staying safe tonight. And hey, if you don't have a place to crash, there's always my place."
"...Thank you," I told Lissera, forcing myself to give her a faint smile. "I'll consider it." I was planning to head home as soon as the rain broke, but it didn't hurt to be polite when the girl was making such an obvious effort to be welcoming.
Truthfully, I had lost my appetite. But Lissera had paid for my meal, and I thought it would be rude not to eat it, so I stuck my spoon in the bowl and pulled up a chunk of something, drenched in a thick, creamy white liquid. Steam was rising up from my meal, so I blew lightly on the stew before bringing it to my lips.
It was hot. Tragically underseasoned. And, as I'd feared, entirely devoid of salt. Despite that, I immediately drove my spoon back into the bowl and pulled out another of the little chunks. Not even bothering to blow on it anymore, I shoved that and several more bites into my mouth until I was sure without a doubt.
"This," I declared, gesturing to the stew, "has potatoes in it. Doesn't it?"
"I'm surprised you know what those are," Monica remarked, raising a single eyebrow.
"That's right!" Lissera volunteered, smiling brightly in contrast to Monica's faint frown. "They're our village's specialty. They aren't really native, but they still grow pretty damn well!"
I didn't reply, choosing instead to finish the stew before pushing the bowl away. Then I pushed back my stool and stood. "Well then. It seems I have a wolf problem to deal with."
"What are you talking about?" Monica demanded. "This request is meant for an entire party to handle. There's no way you can do it by yourself."
"That's right," Lissera confirmed, nodding vigorously. "Besides, we all sent as much money as we could spare with Trevill. There wouldn't be anything in it for you."
"Is that so?" I asked them, a small smile slipping across my lips. I was aware of multiple eyes on me, as the townsfolk once again ceased their conversation to see what the stranger was up to. This time it didn't bother me, though. In fact, it was perhaps for the best that they all heard what I had to say.
"Very well!" I declared, projecting my voice. "I've made up my mind. I will save this town from the pack of currs that threaten it."
"But we really can't reward you for it," Lissera protested, again, as murmuring broke out among the gathered townsfolk.
"But you can," I promised her, a smile slipping across my features. "You'll simply have to pay me in potatoes."
Thanks for reading! Devilla interacts with humans for the first time in this chapter. And she found potatoes! Potatoes and salt! Clearly this trip was the best idea ever!
In any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
The rain kept up for another half hour. The townsfolk spent the entirety of that time trying to dissuade me from my course of action, shouting such things as "A young lady like you shouldn't be putting herself on the line!" and "Let the real adventurer's handle it!" Among them, however, was a surprising ally.
"If she says she can do it, she can do it," Lissera told the crowd. She hardly looked convinced herself, continuously throwing glances my way, but she nevertheless managed to deliver the line in a firm voice before turning to me. "But are you sure you don't want to wait until morning? They're more active at night…"
"I'm sure. I'm intending to camp out tonight, in any case, so taking care of them before bed would be ideal." That was another lie, of course. I intended to sleep in a comfortable bed, back in the tower. I couldn't tell the townsfolk that, though, and it was unlikely they'd let me simply slip out of town if they thought I was planning to camp among monsters.
"I told you that you could bed at my place tonight, though," Liserra pointed out. She had a pout on her lips, but I didn't think she was actually that upset about my refusal. Rather, she seemed worried over my plans.
"I'll be fine," I told her, my voice gentle but firm.
"Oh, just let her handle it," declared a blue-haired woman, slamming her leather jack on the table. If there'd been any alcohol left in the thing, it probably would have sloshed over the sides from the force she put into it. "We've spent half an hour trying to convince the fool woman. What do we care if she takes this on herself? It's not like there'll be a body left for us to worry about burying."
"Mother Reliz," one of the villagers protested, "you surely can't be suggesting we condone this madness!"
"I'm suggesting that we stay out of its way and mind our own damn business," Reliz declared. "And that someone gets me a damned refill…"
Tasha hurried forward to take the woman's leather mug, bringing it to the cask for a refill. I, for my part, did my best not to stare at this so-called "Mother Reliz." She was the one who'd helped me shoot down Jackson earlier that evening, which had somewhat endeared me to her up to this point. Hearing her called "Mother," however, told me that she was likely a priestess, an affiliate of the church that vilified my people. Just knowing that caused a surge of anger and disgust to well up within me, though I quickly shoved it down. The woman didn't seem to be too terrible a person, so far; perhaps a little salty, but that was all. Nevertheless, I thought I'd be better off avoiding her.
"The rain seems to have stopped," I declared, making a show of putting my hand to my ear. I'd actually been tracking the sound as it trailed off. "I'd best be going, now."
"At least let me get you a lantern," Liserra suggested, frantically. "She can borrow a lantern, right, Tasha?"
"I'll be fine without it," I told her before Tasha could respond. "It would just ruin my night vision anyway."
"But you can't even see the moon with those clouds! You need a lantern," Lissera insisted. "Come on, Tasha, please? I'll pay it off if she doesn't come back with it."
Tasha hesitated for a moment, looking conflicted. To her mind, giving in would probably mean saying goodbye to the lantern. Further, with the merchants avoiding the area, it was uncertain when she'd be able to replace it. Despite that, she slowly, somewhat reluctantly nodded.
"I've got an old spare I suppose I can let you borrow. It's just a candle lantern, mind, but it should give you a little light."
"It'll do fine," I promised, eager to get underway.
The innkeeper gave me a resolute nod and headed toward the stairs at the back of the room. I stood silently while I waited, ignoring the quiet murmurs of the worried townsfolk around me and the worry evident on Lissera's face. Even though she supported me, she was still clearly concerned about whether I could really back my claims.
"I do hope you know what you're doing," Monica muttered from her seat. "Lissera really doesn't have the money to be replacing a lantern…"
"Monica!" Lissera cried out, blushing bright red. "It'll be fine. I know you'll bring it back in one piece." So she said, but I could hear the faint tremor of uncertainty in her voice.
"It'll be fine," I insisted, giving her a confident smile. "I'm stronger than I look."
"Are you?" Monica asked, voicing the doubt everyone at the table seemed to feel. "I've seen plenty of people whose strength outstrips their physique - I've heard some of the strongest humans barely show any muscle at all, in fact. But getting there takes hard work, and I got a good look at your hands earlier - I don't think you even have a single callus."
"That's because I've always healed myself with magic," I fibbed, meeting her eyes and refusing to break contact. I knew the phenomenon she was referring to concerning muscles. It was common among demons. Our strength was primarily supernatural, and the stronger you got, the harder it became to give your body an actual workout. It was interesting to know humans worked the same way in this world. "Believe me or don't. All I can do is promise to return."
Monica's brown eyes searched mine. I'm not sure what she found, but after a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and looked away. A moment later, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps walking down the stairs, and Tasha arrived with a lantern. It was already lit.
"Thank you," I said, smiling as I reached out for the lantern.
For a moment, Tasha's hand remained firmly on the lantern. "Be careful out there," she told me, voice pitched low. "Getting this taken care of soon might be what's best for the town, but the last thing we need is your corpse on our conscience." Then she took her hand off and looked away.
"I really will be all right," I promised, trying to reassure everyone once again. Nobody responded, this time, so I shrugged my shoulders and turned toward the door. I had already opened it when I heard Monica whispering behind me.
"You're going to be paying off that lantern for months, you know."
"Shut up," was Lissera's whispered reply. "She's gorgeous, and I don't want her to die."
My cheeks flushed bright red, and I hastily opened the door and stepped through. The air outside was all but frigid, especially compared to the inn's warmth, but, as when flying, I didn't mind it in the slightest.
The night was pitch black beneath the clouded sky. That usually wouldn't bother me, with my unnaturally good eyes, but the lantern light really was interfering with my night vision. Everything seemed to fade away to nothing less than twenty feet away. On top of that, poor Lissera would apparently have to spend months paying it off if it broke. It was plainly evident to me that I couldn't bring it into the fight. I kept it with me while walking through town and then opened the lantern's cloudy glass door and blew out the light. I placed it next to the outer wall, which surrounded the fields, for safekeeping and started to walk down the path and toward the forest proper.
Of course, I also released the spell that made my hair look brown. While I'd made a big deal about my strength to the villagers, I really had no reason to restrict myself to physical fighting. There were twenty opponents, after all, and I was under no obligation to fight fair.
As far as finding the wolves went, I decided to simply stomp through the forest and make noise until they found me. The villagers had painted them as fairly aggressive, and I was hoping they would rush to defend their territory. If it didn't work, I always had the option of searching for them with magic, but I was hoping to avoid that. Just as I had felt Lissera's magic power, when she'd poured it over me, I was sure the wolves would know it if I used magic to scan for them. I wasn't sure how well they'd be able to gauge my strength or how they'd react to it.
In the end, I didn't need to worry, anyway. I was less than a quarter-mile from town when I heard the low growl of a predator, and a moment later, a single wolf emerged from the underbrush to my right. It looked more or less like a traditional wolf to me, sleek in form but well-muscled. Its coat was gray, glossy, and obviously well cared for. The horn it was named for, which sat in the center of its forehead, was a sinister red, far too resemblant of blood for my tastes.
The wolf walked casually around me, keeping its eye trained on my form. When it reached the center of the road, in front of me, it let loose another loud growl.
More wolves emerged from the bushes in response to this call. The village had listed twenty, but the count seemed closer to thirty to my eyes. Like the leader, they were largely sleek and well-muscled. There was one on the smaller side, however, perhaps two thirds the size of the others. It seemed much thinner, and its fur was matted and dirty. I was curious about its circumstances, but once it took its place in the circle with the rest, I had to treat it as an enemy. Even emaciated as it was, it could still be a threat to me.
The lead wolf was the first to move. It lowered its head and charged at me, intending to skewer me with its horn. Its attack was well telegraphed, though, and I simply stepped aside. It didn't stop, to my surprise, even after passing me, instead ramming its red horn directly into a tree.
The sharp instrument pierced through the wood like a needle through cloth, showing off both the horn's sharpness and the brute strength of the lupine monster. More concerning than that was the way the bark around that horn was darkening and crumbling away. When the wolf pulled away from the tree, a large chunk of the trunk dislodged with it, crumbling to ash and falling to the ground as the creature shook its head. Then it turned back to me and let out a low pitched bark.
The other wolves reacted as one to the sound, with each letting out a growl as they lowered their heads toward me. Then they started to close in, some wolves dropping back to make a second row as the circle narrowed bit by bit. I wasn't sure if they could actually penetrate my skin with their horns like this, but I got the feeling that even getting poked by it would result in an unpleasant experience.
It was a good pack tactic. The wolves had me surrounded on all sides, meaning that I couldn't simply run through them. They weren't running forward, so there was no chance of them hitting one another. And if I devoted my attention to one of them, I'd leave myself full of openings for the rest. I had assumed that the horned wolves were only base animals, but it seemed they were intelligent enough to make plans.
Not that it would save them.
"I'll give you one chance," I told the wolves, on the off chance that they could understand Solla's common tongue. "If you bow your head to me and allow me to lead you somewhere less populated, I'll let you live." I considered letting loose a burst of magic energy with my words but chose not to. If the wolves scattered, I'd never be able to clear them all out. And if they decided to attack someone they saw as defenseless, that would tell me all I needed to know about them.
The wolf I'd pegged as the leader made an odd sound. It was like a growl, but with pauses built into it. I wasn't sure, but I thought it might be laughing at me. All the while, the wolves continued to walk toward me, their horns growing closer and closer.
A sigh slipped from my lips, as a familiar tickling sensation slid across my back, and my black wings spread wide behind me. A single flap took me up and into the air before wolves could even react. They stared up at me in surprise, then glanced to their leader, who let out a small bark in response. It looked like he was about to personally lead an attempt to drag me down from the air. I was grateful that they hadn't decided to flee, as it would save me some trouble, but not thankful enough to give them a second chance.
Holding a hand out toward the leader, I allowed energy to build up in my hand. For its form, I imagined crackling electricity, which tingled against my palm. After I'd built up a considerable amount of energy, I shot it out toward the leader, striking him in the chest. Instantly, his fur stood on end, and he stiffened in place, unable to move as lightning ran through him.
Of course, I didn't stop it there. Instead of coursing down the pack leader's feet and into the ground, the electricity jumped to the nearest wolf, burning its way through them even as I continued to pour electricity into the leader. From there, it went to the next wolf and the next, moving faster than they had a chance to react to it until every wolf there was frozen in place. When I cut off the stream of power, each of them slumped down to the forest floor.
All in all, it took less than a minute to end the wolf pack. The ease of it made me feel a little guilty; they were never a real threat to me, to begin with. But they had been a real threat to the villagers, the merchants, and anyone else they'd come across. Their aggressive territorialism meant that relocating them by force wasn't an option, either. I'd done what I had to do. I knew that.
It didn't change the fact that I'd just killed nearly thirty living creatures, though.
Grimacing to myself, I landed on the ground and made my way to the lead wolf. As the first one I'd struck, it had been exposed to more of the current than the rest of the pack, and it was in pretty bad shape. I could smell charred meat and burnt fur. The horn on its head still gleamed red, though, same as ever, so I reached out and carefully snapped the thing at its base. I'd bring that back to the village, as proof. As for the formerly horned wolf itself - it wouldn't really do to leave so many cooked wolves lying around, would it? I decided to put them all in my bag.
It was a little strange feeding them into it. The bag itself was no bigger than a fist, but the wolves still fit. It was like they were being shrunken down as they went in, their bodies narrowing to slide into the too-small hole and then disappearing into depths that shouldn't have existed. I wasn't entirely sure how it worked, though I assumed it was powered by some sort of holy magic. It had come from heaven, after all.
Regardless, the process went smoothly, and I soon arrived at the final wolf. It was the one I'd singled out as emaciated at the start. Up close, it really was skin and bones. Weak and small, with matted and dirty fur. I couldn't help but think that the other wolves must have been mistreating it, though I couldn't say why. Perhaps because it was on the smaller side?
Nature truly could be cruel. Unfortunately, I, too, needed to harden my heart. No matter how weak and pitiful it looked, it was still a monster. And like all monsters, it could breed with the base species it had diverged from, in this case wolves. And since every pup it brought into the world would be a monster, just like it, it wasn't something I could ignore or let go. I knew that.
Which left me wondering why in the world I'd left it alive. I'd made a point of striking it with the electricity last, with a lower charge and for the smallest duration. I'd intended to knock it out while I decided what to do with it, but, apparently, I'd gone a little too easy on it, as its eyes were open and trained on my form.
"...Your pack attacked me first, you know," I pointed out. "I know I was here to get rid of you all, but if you hadn't decided to attack me, then nothing would have happened."
The wolf stared silently at me. When I stepped closer, it tried to stand, but its legs wouldn't support it, and it quickly fell back down. That didn't stop it from snarling, though, its lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. It was supposed to be intimidating, I think, but it really seemed more like a desperate last stand to me. I could see nothing but fear in its gaze.
I hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer to it. It growled again but didn't even try to move away. I walked right up next to it, then knelt beside it and moved my hand slowly toward its side.
The horned wolf moved faster than I thought it was capable of, snapping at my hand. I didn't pull away fast enough, and the teeth grabbed hold of my wrist. I could feel the teeth pressing against my flesh - but there was no pain, no blood. No wounds. It wasn't even strong enough to break my skin.
"If you're quite done?" I inquired of it, lifting an eyebrow. It continued trying to dig its teeth into my wrist for a moment. There seemed to be desperation in its eyes. I didn't think it was going to stop. So I decided to test something I'd been wondering about and let some of my raw magic power spill out from my hand and across the creature's body.
Its reaction was instant and dramatic. It let go of my hand and began to whimper, lowering itself to the ground and trying to make itself as small as possible. Perhaps because it was a monster, it seemed sensitive enough to my power level to know that it had no chance.
"Good. Now that we have that settled…" I reached out toward it, again, ignoring the fearful whimper it let out when my hand touched its side. I could feel its rib cage beneath my fingers, each bone standing out sharply beneath the skin, and I again felt a twinge of pity for the state of this poor thing.
"...I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered, more to myself than the wolf. Slowly, heat began to gather in my hand, flowing into the creature. I'd never tried a spell like this before, and I wasn't entirely sure how it would work, but I decided to focus on the idea of cells multiplying and repairing themselves. I provided the energy since the creature was far too weak to support this sort of spell, and as my magic pumped through the body, a mental image of the beast appeared in my head.
It didn't seem that my spell had dealt much damage to it - or rather her, as I now realized. It was merely that the wolf hadn't had much health, to begin with. She was weak from malnutrition to the point that I wasn't sure how long she had left. Her calcium deficiency seemed especially bad, and her bones were starting to show it.
I focused first on undoing the damage my spell had caused, which didn't take long at all. I provided nutrition by reaching into my empty bag and literally pulling the nutrients out of one of her packmates. A little macabre, perhaps, but it seemed the least it could do after letting this poor thing fall into such a state to begin with.
Once I had taken care of her immediate health problems, I focused on the wolf herself. The first thing I did was pull water from the air. The second thing I did was to absolutely soak the wolf, whose eyes widened in shock at the sudden dousing. I ignored that, however, using magic to pull the water out of the wolf's fur and then wetting her again, and again, until the dirt in her coat had loosened its grip on her. I then used another spell to gently tease the filth from her body, forming a giant clod of dirt, twigs, and even a few leaves, next to her. Finally, I ran my fingers through the fur, undoing any knots I found.
The wolf was silent throughout all of this, not making a sound even during its repeated waterings. It looked confused to me, but it seemed to be slowly coming to the conclusion that I didn't intend to hurt it again. I didn't speak, either, content to simply work on its coat.
In the end, I spent an hour just prettying her up. When I was done, I gave her a little pat on the head and rose to my feet.
"You should be fine from here," I informed her, a little smile on my lips. "I know I must be crazy, letting you go like this, but I do hope you'll stop making issues for the townsfolk. It would be even better if you relocated, but I suppose that might be asking a bit much. I'll be quite cross, though, if I end up having to come back and deal with you."
The wolf didn't respond but merely stared at me. After a moment, I shrugged my shoulders and turned back toward the town. It was only a quarter-mile back, and then I could collect my potatoes. I'd have to hurry back home after that; it was already quite late, and I was starting to feel tired. Very tired, in fact. Just walking was taking a surprising amount out of me. Which made me all the more annoyed when I had to stop and turn around.
"Why are you following me?" I asked, placing hands on my hips glaring at the wolf. "If you're expecting me to feed you, or some such, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree. I've got nothing on me but salt and shellfish, and I'm sure you know more about hunting than I ever will. You're in good enough shape to hunt, now, aren't you?"
The wolf didn't respond but simply stood in the center of the road. Her tail was wagging happily as if she were simply a pup excited to be getting attention. The blood-red horn on her head, however, reminded me that I was dealing with a wild monster. My impromptu healing session might have earned me some goodwill, but there was no telling if or when it would turn on me.
"I know you can't understand me, but I certainly hope you know better than to waltz into town," I sighed, turning away and starting again down the road. The wolf followed me for quite a while but stopped when we hit the edge of the forest. I half expected it to whimper when I kept walking, but it remained as silent as ever, just watching me go. I tried not to worry about the fact that it was now sitting in the center of the road. It would likely scatter once I was out of sight, in any case.
I picked up the lantern by the wall on my way back, lighting it with a spark of magic. I also reached into my purse, preemptively pulling out the pack leader's horn so that I wouldn't have to explain where I'd been storing it. As a final touch, I used a spell to turn my hair brown. I was getting very fatigued by that point, and my feet felt heavy as lead. Still, I forced myself to continue walking down the path. I knew at this point that I wouldn't be reaching the tower that night, but I still needed to return the lantern and maybe ask them to deduct a night at the inn from my reward.
When I reached the gate, I was surprised to see a figure waiting for me. My usually crystal clear vision had turned into something of a blurry mess in my exhaustion, but I recognized the purple hair.
"You came back," Lissera said, her voice confirming my suspicions. "Did you find the… Wait - in your hand - you really got them!?"
"Yes," I told her, forcing the word out. It was suddenly difficult to breathe. I wasn't sure what was wrong with me. "I… Inn…. Bed... Need..." I was gasping for breath, and my vision was starting to blur. It was all I could do to walk forward.
"Woah! You don't look so good," Lissera observed, moving forward and wrapping an arm around my waist. Without much choice, I leaned my shoulder against her.
"Need… Sleep…"
"Come on. My house is at the edge of town - much closer than the inn. Let's get you tucked in."
Alarm bells were ringing in my head at the suggestion. I knew it was a bad idea, though I couldn't say why. But we were already walking forward before I had the chance to protest, and forcing words out was so difficult. I wasn't even sure why it was a bad idea. A closer bed sounded like a beautiful thing to me. And then the door to her house was opening, and a moment later, I was stumbling into her room.
Her bed was stuffed with straw. It wasn't very soft, and it poked a little when I collapsed against it. The pillow wasn't much better. Despite that, I soon found myself closing my eyes.
There was something wrong with this, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was getting so hard to breathe. My vision was going dark. But I couldn't fall asleep yet. I had to think. I had to figure out what was wrong.
But before I could, the darkness took me.
When I awoke, I couldn't remember where I was. The bed beneath me was scratchier than anything I'd felt in either of my lifetimes, and the pillow was just as bad. The blanket over me was woolen, which made it warm but very scratchy. When I peered around me, I could see that I was in a small room with shuttered windows. I could see a little light through them, which told me it was morning but did nothing to tell me where I had ended up. The last thing I remembered was trudging back toward the village. I'd been intent on getting a room at the inn. Had I succeeded?
Suddenly the doorknob rattled. I reached quickly for my magic, intent on turning my hair brown, but then froze. My hair was already a dark brown, the usual white nowhere to be found. What exactly had happened to me?
The door opened, and I was surprised to see Lissera on the other side. Then I remembered. She'd met me at the town's gate and led me inside. She'd taken me to her house, where I must have collapsed. Why had I collapsed? Had I really been that tired after only a single day's work? It was true that I'd never put much of an effort in, in this life, but that still seemed a little much.
"You're awake!" Lissera exclaimed, grinning in sharp contrast to my frowning face. "I was really worried for a little there… Our doctor called it the worst case of magic depletion she'd ever seen."
"Magic depletion?" I asked, shocked. I'd never run out of magic in my life up to that point. But then, I'd never spent an entire day flinging nonstop spells. Between flying for more than three hundred miles, while maintaining spells pretty much the entire way, and then everything I'd done on the beach, plus my flight back, my illusion in town, and everything that had followed - perhaps it wasn't surprising that I'd run out, after all. Actually, I was fairly impressed with myself for hanging in so long.
Still, Abigail hadn't outright collapsed when she ran out of magic. Was it because I'd tried to hold on too long? Or was it because of the difference in our species? I wasn't wholly mortal, so perhaps my body was more dependent on magical energies? Though the fact that a human could recognize it implied that it could happen to others, too.
"That's right," Lissera confirmed, oblivious to my deeper wonderings. "You were out for three days, too. I've never even heard of someone taking that long to recover their energy."
"Three days!?" I screamed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it off myself. I tried to stand, only to be hit by a rush of dizziness. My legs didn't feel weak, precisely, but it was apparent they hadn't been used for some time. And I was starving. How had I not realized that before? My stomach was crying out for food.
"Careful," Lissera told me, coming forward to prop me up. I leaned against her shoulder, thankful for the help. "I don't know how demon bodies work, but if you're anything like a human, you'll need to eat before we get you moving around."
"A…" I stared at her, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. "You…?" I couldn't get out the words.
"I saw the white hair, Eena," Lissera informed me, with a small frown. "White hair. There's only one being that looks human, except for her white hair. So far as I know, anyway. Your majesty."
"I-I'm not…" I started to lie, then trailed off as Lissera arched an eyebrow. "..Why did you help me, then? If you know?"
"You saved my town," Lissera reminded me, a small smile flitting across her face. "For potatoes. I don't care who or what you are - I can't think of you as evil after that."
"And… My hair?" I asked, glancing down at my dark brown tresses.
"Walnut dye. My whole family works with clothing, so I know a bit about dyes. I didn't know what to do when you collapsed, and I couldn't let the doctor see your white hair, so…" She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.
"Thank you," I said, putting as much honest emotion into the words as I could. I couldn't know for sure how vulnerable I'd been, but if there'd ever been a chance to kill me, it had been then. She would have been a hero to her people, and the demon queen line would have come to an end. Instead, she'd shown me kindness I'd never expected and wasn't sure I deserved.
"You saved my town," Lissera reminded me, again. "I mean, you did save my town, right? You had that horn, and there haven't been any attacks since you went out there."
"I killed the wolves," I assured her, smiling faintly. "All but one of them, anyway, and if she causes trouble, I'll finish the job." It was the least I could do to thank the woman who'd saved me.
"Alright then. I'm going to go get you some food - you wait here, okay?" Lissera guided me back to the bed, settling me down. I nodded, relieved to be off my feet.
"Just wait right there," Lissera reiterated, heading toward the door. "Don't go anywhere!"
I nodded, unsure why she was being so insistent. It was a little suspicious, but I was reasonably sure she didn't mean me any harm after all that had happened. And it wasn't like I really had the energy to go anywhere, anyway. So I waited, in the dark room with its single shuttered window, sitting still on the bed.
She came back about ten minutes later, with a wooden bowl in her hands. It was full of porridge, and the sight of it brought a small smile to my lips. When she handed it to me, I immediately began to dig in. It was bland, without even a hint of sugar, but I still ate every bite.
"So?" Lissera pressed after I finished. "Are you feeling better?"
"Very much so," I confirmed, smiling and standing. My legs supported me much better this time, and I could feel energy flowing through my body. If a human slept for three days, I doubted they'd recover this quickly, but it seemed that I was made of sterner stuff.
"Good," Lissera said. She looked relieved. "Alright. The villagers all gathered as many potatoes as they could for your reward, so I've got them in the main room for you. You should take them and get out of here. Quickly."
"Is something the matter?" I asked, frowning once more. "Or do you simply want me out of the way now that you know what I am?"
"What? No," Lissera refuted, shaking her head rapidly back and forth. "It's not that. It's just… There's been a little bit of a complication?"
"A complication?" I parroted back, my frown deepening. "What sort of complication?"
"Well, remember how Monica and I were talking about Trevill? The one with the horse? Went to the city to get an adventurer?"
"Yes, I remember," I told her. "Is he back?"
"He's back," Lissera confirmed. "And he brought an adventurer with him. And when we told her that a single adventurer had taken on all twenty wolves - well… She decided she wanted to meet you. And she's been pestering me about when you'll be up to seeing visitors, ever since."
"I see. But I don't see what…. Wait. She? So Travill also brought back a single adventurer?" I asked. A single adventurer, coming to slay twenty wolves? That was fine for me, but hadn't Monica said something about this requiring an entire party?
"That's right," Lissera confirmed, nodding. "And I don't think you want her pressing into your backstory…"
"And… If I could ask this adventurer's name?" I asked, my mouth dry.
"Helllooooo?" called a voice from outside the bedroom. Lissera flinched instantly. "I knocked, and knocked, but nobody answered, so I just came inside! You're here, right, Lissera? How's your patient?"
A woman walked in, not waiting for a response. Just looking at her, you could tell she was an adventurer of some sort. She was wearing greeves that went up to her knees and a skirt made of leather straps with decorative gold studs. The armor that covered her upper body was somewhat form-fitting, hewing close to her stomach and sides. It didn't show boobs or cleavage, but it still made clear she had curves. She was wearing bracers, and her left hand was encased in a gauntlet, while her right hand was free. There was a large sword buckled to her left side.
She had red hair and orange eyes, and she smiled brightly when she saw me.
"You're awake! It's so great to meet you. I can't believe you really took out twenty wolves by yourself! You must be really strong. And I hear you're self-trained? And not even an adventurer, yet! But you're already taking on quests like twenty wolves, and you're doing it for literal potatoes - which is really nice, by the way. I was just going to turn down the reward, but I know people need to eat, and taking the reward in a way the village can pay is just brilliant!"
The woman paused, then laughed. "Sorry," she told me, "I'm babbling and babbling, and I haven't even told you my name." She held her hand out toward me, a grin on her lips.
"I'm Lucy. The heroine!"
Enter the Heroine! I wonder how Devilla will deal with this unexpected development~?
I honestly have a lot to say about Lucy, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow's chapter. I think you all have some idea of her personality with this, but you'll have a much clearer picture once I post chapter 6. Oh, and you've probably noticed this already, based on the description given - but yes, that's Lucy on the cover, alongside Devilla and Abigail.
As always, I really hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
Standing in a bedroom far too small for the three people in it, staring at the heroine's hand, I felt the sudden urge to laugh. In fact, I was laughing. No. Giggling! It was a manic, panicked sound that bubbled up from deep within my being, clawing its way up my throat and forcing its way past my lips. It was a sound of horrified amusement. Of all the people who could have answered this village's call, of all the adventurer's across all the world – who would have thought that the heroine herself would appear? I'd hoped to spend this entire life without seeing her, yet there she was, right in front of me.
I couldn't stop laughing. Tears were streaming down my face, and I was bent forward. My fingers were clutching desperately at my skirt. I couldn't breathe. The laughter just kept pouring out. The heroine! In front of me! My ultimate enemy, simply standing there with a confused expression on her face, still holding out her hand.
It occurred to me, suddenly, that I could end things there and then. Lucy hadn't defeated any of my generals yet. She didn't have any of their power. I was far stronger than her at that moment; all I needed to do was disregard my ancestor's teachings and grab her while she was still powerless. Lock her in a dungeon, and everything would be solved.
The thought was sobering, like a splash of cold water across my face. The urge to giggle ceased and I regained control of myself. Instead of laughter, I was suddenly fighting the urge to throw up. Not from fear, this time, but from self-disgust. Even if it was only a frantic thought of desperation, I couldn't believe that I'd actually considered abducting Lucy. She might have been the heroine, but she wasn't like the ones who came before her. She actually cared enough to try and save my people. Even if I hadn't needed her for my plan, to make peace between humans and demons, I would never want to bring her harm.
"You know, it's not polite to laugh when people introduce themselves," Lucy told me, placing her hands on her hips. Rather than angry, she looked legitimately upset. "I really am the heroine!"
"She really is," Lissera promised. She had a worried frown on her face, and her left hand kept tugging nervously at the fingers of her right. "According to Travill, at least. He said the guild vouched for her and that she more than proved her strength on the way here – she moved a tree trunk that was in the road!"
"I'm sure you are, and I'm sure she did," I assured them, forcing myself to give a small smile. Lucy was no threat to me, as she was now; I knew that. It was only that images of Tower Conquest kept flashing through my brain. Me, on all fours, weakened and exhausted. Lucy, standing proud above me, slipping the collar about my neck. Her first order, done with a blush on her cheeks, to kiss her feet and show that the collar had really worked.
I didn't want it. I couldn't take it. I wouldn't ever let that be me. To avoid that fate without harming Lucy, I needed to stay as far away from her and that thrice-damned collar as possible. Which meant I needed to get out of there.
"I apologize for laughing," I said, bowing my head ever so faintly. "It was quite rude. It simply amused me to think that I might have taken on a job fit for the heroine herself." A little flattery could go a long way, and I was hoping it would get me a very long way indeed.
"Really?" Lucy asked me, drilling into me with her orange eyes. "You aren't just laughing because you think I look weak? Because I'm happy to spar with you if you have doubts. Though I hope you won't hold it against me when you end up pinned on the ground!"
"I'll pass," I declared, still smiling at her. "In fact, I really must take my potatoes and get going. I'm supposed to be undergoing a journey of self-improvement, you see. I only even came into the village due to the rain."
"Really?" Lucy asked me, face brightening immediately. "That sounds so cool! Is that how you got so strong? I travel a lot on my own, too, and let me tell you, the effects really start to show! When I first started, I couldn't ride a horse without getting sore, and now most of the time, I don't even use a horse! I just run! I mean, I'm not as fast as a horse, obviously, but I can go a lot longer without a break!"
"Yes, well. I might be strong, but I can still get stronger. Perhaps one day even as strong as you, Miss Lucy, the heroine." I held out my hand, hoping to end things with that.
Lucy took my hand, but rather than letting go, she stepped close until her face was right in front of mine.
"Can I come with you?" she asked me, eyes bright and sparkling. "I want to get stronger, too! I mean, I need to get really strong if I'm ever going to lead the holy army against the demon tower, right? And even stronger if I want to defeat the demon queen! The church actually wants me to form a party for it, but I haven't found anyone strong enough, and I don't want to put anyone at risk, so I'm thinking of going myself, and I need to get way stronger for that!"
"I… Ah…" I glanced at Lissera, but her only response was a helpless shrug. "It's really supposed to be solo training…"
"Oh, I won't get in the way," Lucy vowed, releasing my hand and placing her palm against her chest. "I absolutely promise. I mean, as long as you're able to take care of it, I'll leave it be! But I actually have an ulterior motive for wanting to come along."
"An ulterior motive?" I inquired, my heart skipping a beat. Could it be that she was suspicious of me?
"Well…" Lucy dithered, toeing the floor with one of her metal boots. "It's just… You're sort of the hero of this town, you know? And you just recovered, after sleeping for three days, and… I think everyone here would be happier if I could report that you completed the next leg of your journey safely! I mean unless you're willing to spend a few days recovering here, where they can keep an eye on you?"
"I…" I hesitated. Lucy's motives were purer than I'd expected, and I could see from the conflicted look on Lissera's face that she wasn't entirely off base. The problem was that the next leg of my journey rightly involved flying back to the tower. Not a trip I was willing to take Lucy on.
"Please?" Lucy pressed, eyes bright and wide. She again reached out, clutching my right hand in hers and holding it up between us. "I can help you? You want to go to a city with a guild and register as an adventurer, right? Well, there's a probation period when you join, but if I vouch for what you've done here, I bet you can get past it in a heartbeat!"
Unfortunately, I wasn't planning to go to a city for some time, or that would have been legitimately tempting. Unfortunately, I was blanking an excuse to give her. The last thing I wanted was to make the heroine suspicious of me. Lucy couldn't do anything to me, personally, but Lissera would almost certainly be killed if it came out that she'd helped the demon queen.
"Very well," I conceded, with a tired sigh. "You may walk with me for a while. But only until you're convinced that I am fine! After that, you can go ahead of me to the adventurer's guild and get them ready for me."
I actually was planning to go to a city near here, when I went at last. I'd likely wait a while to give Lucy time to move on, but I wanted to establish myself as an adventurer in this area. If things went according to plan, I would eventually settle down in the general vicinity of this village. That way, I'd have both allies and potatoes when I started to live my life among humans.
Unaware of my plots, Lucy smiled brightly and gave my hand a firm pump. "It's a deal!" she declared. "Are we going right now? I mean, you did want to, so I guess we are? I'll grab your potatoes, and we can get going!"
"W-Wait," Lissera protested, interjecting herself into the conversation at last. "What about the other villagers? Nobody's even had a chance to say goodbye to Eena, yet!"
"I have no desire for drawn-out goodbyes," I informed Lissera, moving to walk out of the bedroom. "It is not as if I won't be back. In fact, I suspect I will be a regular customer of this village." It was my hope that the demons would be able to produce their own potatoes, but it would take a while before we had enough for everyone. In the meantime, I'd be coming back to Derrin village whenever I wanted to refill my personal stash. Not to mention that I hoped to secure a supply of walnut dye.
"Wait! You're not the sort of hero who just rides off when everything's done, are you?" Lucy demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "You got your reward, so you're just going to leave? That's not right! These people are invested in your well being! You spent three days sick because you pushed yourself too hard for their sakes! The least you can do is show them you're okay, so they won't have to feel bad or worried or anything."
"Oh very well," I muttered, unable to stand the onslaught of good intentions. "Have anyone who wants to see me gather at the gates. I'll give you twenty minutes."
"Okay!" Lissera ran toward the bedroom door, then paused. "The potatoes are right outside. Only two bags, because we know you can only carry so many, but I promise we'll keep giving you bags any time you come back. So you will come back, won't you?"
"I'll come back," I promised. Honestly, I could carry infinite potatoes in my bag but, since I wouldn't be able to explain where I'd gotten a heavenly item, I'd have to be satisfied with what I could carry in a couple of sacks, for now.
Lissera stared at me, with almost the same intensity as Lucy, before nodding and rushing out the door. A small, honest smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I never would have thought she'd want me back, knowing who I was, and the fact that she didn't seem to care genuinely warmed my heart.
"Soooo, do you want to spar?" Lucy suggested, with a big smile. "Oh. Or maybe I should wait until you're back at full strength? I really want to see how good you are at your best! I mean, I don't know many adventurers who could take on all those wolves and survive! Unless you were only able to do it because you used magic? I did hear you were out from magic depletion. But I'm good with magic, too, so we can do a battle with both!"
"I'd rather not," I demurred, shaking my head. "As you say, I'm not quite at my full strength." That was actually true. The porridge had given me some energy to work with, and my body's natural strength and resilience were certainly seeing me through, but nothing could change the fact that I'd been unconscious for three days. It was going to take me a little to get back in tiptop condition.
Of course, I was confident I could still kick Lucy's ass. But picking on someone so much weaker than me would be far too crude.
"Well, what else can we do with twenty minutes?" Lucy asked me, wrapping some of her red hair about her forefinger. "I don't just want to stand around. That's boring. Maybe we can workout? But I don't see anything heavy enough around here to let me build up a sweat…"
"Perhaps a different sort of workout, then?" I suggested, deciding to tease Lucy a little. I knew relatively little about the human church since discussions of them had always made my blood boil, but I did know they were against sex for pleasure. Apparently, it was reproductive or nothing, among the religious sort. And since there was no reason for me alone to be feeling uncomfortable…
"What sort of workout?" Lucy asked me, curiosity painted across her features. "Is it fun? Invigorating? Will it make me feel good? I love when workouts make me feel good!"
"It would be fun, invigorating, and quite delightful," I vowed, now smiling widely. "Though it might be a little beyond you. I'm not sure it's really your speed, you see."
"It's my speed! I think? I mean, I don't really know what that means! But if it's a workout, I'm definitely up for it! How do we do it?"
"Well, to start with, we have to get naked," I replied, my smile shifting into a smirk. "Then we wrestle a little – partly with our bodies, partly with our lips..."
I was going to continue, expecting Lucy's cheeks to go red at the suggestion, but they didn't. Instead, she simply stared at me, eyes wide and mouth ever so slightly ajar. She seemed absolutely shocked. Perhaps I'd gone a step too far? I didn't mind violating her precious views on the sanctity of sex, but I was a little concerned about drawing her ire. And much more concerned about getting a sermon on sex.
"You…" she started, at last, then stopped. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, her eyes dropping to the floor at my feet. "You…" she began again, only to stop once more.
"Yes?" I inquired, raising a single eyebrow. "Is something the matter?"
"The matter?" Lucy asked me, before letting out a short bark of laughter. "Is something the matter? You know I'm the heroine, but you… You'd still…" A tear slid down Lucy's cheeks, as her bright orange eyes lifted up from the floor to meet my gaze. "Even knowing I'm the heroine, you'd still have sex with me?"
It was my turn to stare, shocked into silence by her words. My mouth opened, and I lifted a finger, then my mouth closed, and I dropped it again. Lucy was actually interested? She actually wanted to have sex? I knew that she'd been willing enough to sleep with people in the game, but those had been desperate circumstances, trying to get the generals to turn against their leader so that she could save them and the entirety of demonkind. I was just a random stranger, offering her a casual fuck.
And what was with the crying? I had only meant it as a joke, to make myself feel a little less freaked out, yet she was looking at me like I was offering her food after a lifetime without.
"…I can hardly believe this is true – but from the way you're talking, is it possible that others wouldn't?"
"Of course not!" Lucy exclaimed. "I'm the heroine. The chosen one of the angels! Even people who are willing to commit the sin say they aren't willing to do it with me. Plus, I'm strong! Really strong! And I can't control it well! I can't just have sex with anyone off the street. It has to be an adventurer who's trained their body up! But since they're always putting their lives on the line, they're even more religious than most, so they won't have sex with me, and I can't sleep with anyone, and you're the first person to ever want to have sex!"
Lucy was practically shouting by the end of her frantic speech, and her breath was coming heavily. All the same, she reached up to her shoulders and began to work at the clasps on her armor.
"Hold on," she told me. "I'll get undressed right now! Okay? We can – twenty minutes is really enough? I always thought it would take longer. Oh, my Goddess, I can't believe I'm actually going to have sex!"
"Hold on a minute!" I shouted hurriedly, holding up a hand to indicate she should stop. Lucy looked surprised, but her hand reluctantly moved away from the clasp of her armor.
"You're changing your mind?" she asked me, voice soft and sad. "Oh. Of course. It was just a joke, right?" She let out a short, forlorn laugh. "There's no way anyone would want to have sex with the heroine, after all…"
"I didn't say I was changing my mind," I argued, hardly able to believe the words slipping out of my mouth. It had been a joke. This was the living embodiment of my doom we were talking about, here! My bad end made flesh!
But here she was, crying about how nobody would ever have sex with her. Upset because the humans she protected were so uptight about what the church said that they forced her into celibacy. And perhaps the worst of it? For all the problems I had with my aunts in heaven, Luci had never once claimed they were against sex. In fact, she had always said the goddess enjoyed a good fuck. Sex purely for procreation was, as far as I knew, entirely an invention of the human church. And Lucy was suffering for it.
"I'm fine going at it like a rabbit," I assured her, shoving away my misgivings. So what if she was my enemy? I could start avoiding her tomorrow. Today, I was going to save one of the church's many victims.
"Then what's the problem?" Lucy demanded, looking up at me with wide eyes. I could tell she was itching to start pulling off her armor. It was rather cute, and a little ridiculous. For all my fears of meeting Lucy, I never could have imagined a scenario like this would unfold.
"Fucking you is one thing," I replied. "Fucking you in someone else's bedroom is another thing entirely. If you wish to bed me, I'm afraid it will have to be outside of town, on the forest floor." It would probably be more comfortable than the straw, in any case. But my main reason for the decision was my suspicion that Lissera wished to have sex with me. I was unwilling to sleep with someone else in her home before even giving her a chance.
"In the forest?" Lucy echoed. "So. When you say go at it like rabbits. You mean literally?"
"…Something like that. If it's too much for you, we don't have to do it. I'm sure you'll find someone else to fuck you eventually." In fact, I could say it with a hundred percent certainty.
Lucy shook her head, though "I want to sleep with you, Eena! Today! As soon as we leave town! We'll find a place with some nice leaves, clear out all the stones and twigs, and we'll just…. Oooh, I can't wait!"
"Well, you'll have to," I warned her. "If only for twenty minutes."
Lucy nodded as if she agreed, but the look in her eyes remained eager as a puppy. On top of that, she started to shift eagerly from foot to foot, a big grin on her lips.
It seemed to me that twenty minutes had just become a rather long wait.
"You'll be okay, won't you?" Lissera asked me for the third time since my arrival at the gate.
"We will both be fine," I promised her, uncertain if her concern was for me or for Lucy, the heroine of her people. "You haven't seen the last of me."
"Okay. Because if you're not ready for travel, you can stay with me for another day or two. I'll make you potato stew?"
'Thank you, but no. My journey is far from complete." By which I meant my journey back to Dimona Tower. I was concerned about how my people might be reacting to my extended absence. No matter how much they hated me, they were also depending on me to take care of… Well, the very woman who was eagerly bouncing on the balls of her feet beside me.
"I'll keep her real safe!" Lucy promised, pressing a hand against her chest. "You have my promise that no harm will befall Eena for as long as we're together!"
"…And you're really sure everything will be okay?" Lissera asked me, yet again, ignoring Lucy.
"By the Goddess, Lissera," Mother Reliz complained, pressing her fingertips against her forehead and rubbing the spot as if trying to chase away a nasty headache. "You weren't this concerned when Eena went out against a pack of literal monsters! Now she's with the heroine, and you're suddenly going to raise a fuss?"
"Well, that's…" Lissera started, only to trail off. "I mean…" she shot me a look, to which I responded with a shrug of my shoulders. I, too, thought she was overreacting. I felt fine, for the most part, and Lucy seemed mostly harmless, except perhaps to my peace of mind.
"I'm sure Eena will be fine," Monica said, a small smile on her lips as she turned her gaze from Lissera to me. "And even if she isn't, I'm sure she'll survive. The savior of our village won't go down without a fight, now will she?"
"I won't," I promised, smiling at the girls, before turning my gaze to the rest of the villagers. Everyone who'd been in the tavern seemed to have gathered, along with a few villagers I'd yet to meet. Even Jackson was there, though he'd been relegated to the rear. They were all there to see me off.
"I'll be fine," I promised them, unsure what else I could offer. "I'm much stronger than I look, you know."
A low chuckle rippled through the crowd at that, and a smile touched my lips. With a final wave, I reached down to grab hold of a potato sack, tossed it over my shoulders, and began to walk into the forest.
"Bye, everyone!" Lucy called out behind me, grabbing my second sack. "Don't worry, I won't let her push herself! I'll definitely keep her safe! Otherwise, I just plain wouldn't be able to look you all in the eyes next time I came through!"
"Are you even planning to come through here again?" I asked once Lucy had caught up to me.
"Who knows? The poe-taste-oh or whatever stew was really good! And I like everyone here well enough. If they ever need help with more monsters, I'll definitely come back! Though I guess they have you for that. Unless you aren't planning to come back?" Lucy asked. "They told me you really liked their poe-taste-ohs."
"Potatoes," I corrected, unable to help a small smile. She'd mangled the pronunciation even worse than Abigail. "They happen to make for a decent staple food."
"So you must be planning to eat them pretty quickly, huh?" Lucy asked me, eyeing the large sack I had slung over my shoulder. "I mean, I'm sure they'll go bad if you don't! Oh, though, if you have someone to share them with, then you'll probably have an easier time getting through them. Do you? Have someone to share them with, I mean?"
"…I'm traveling alone, aren't I?" I asked, choosing to deflect the question.
"Well, for now," Lucy agreed. "But do you always travel alone? Or are you open to traveling with other people?"
"It's not as if I have a preference for it," I admitted. "But I think I'm best suited for traveling by my lonesome. I'm not a very lovable person, as I'm sure you can tell." I kept walking a moment, after delivering my response, before realizing that Lucy was no longer walking beside me.
"Lucy?" I called out, turning about. To my surprise, she was standing stock still a few feet back, the sack of potatoes sitting by her feet. "Is something the matter?"
"…How could you say that?" Lucy asked me, instead of answering my question.
"Say what?" I retorted, raising an eyebrow. "If you don't specify what you're referring to, I won't-"
"How can you say something like that and not even have it register!?" Lucy demanded, stepping toward me. Before I could pull back, she reached out and grabbed one of my hands, holding it against her chest. "How can you say that you're not lovable? How can you believe that?"
"You simply don't know me very well," I murmured, starting to pull back.
"I don't need to know you to know you deserve love!" Lucy shouted, causing me to freeze in place, one hand clutching mine against her chest and the stretched out toward me. She took advantage of my shock to grab hold of my other hand, stepping closer to me and pressing those fingers against my chest, even as she squeezed my other hand against her armor.
"I can feel your heartbeat," Lucy whispered after a moment. "You probably can't feel mine because of the armor, but I can feel yours! That means you're a living being, doesn't it? And you're not evil! You saved that village, so I know that much! And if you're a living being who isn't evil – that means you deserve love, right?"
I stared into Lucy's orange eyes for a long moment, searching for any hint of guile or deception. I found instead eager determination mixed with pain as if she genuinely couldn't believe the words I had to say.
"I… have not always been the best version of myself," I told her, at last. "I caused problems for those who were close to me and brought direct harm to more than one. Whether I deserve love or not is irrelevant at this point – I neither expect it nor seek it. Instead, I choose to travel by myself. Perhaps it will be different in another life."
"But that's too sad," Lucy protested. I was surprised to find her eyes swimming with tears for me.
"That's simply the way it is," I insisted, extricating myself from her grasp and stepping backward. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Lucy, but things don't always work the way we think they should."
"…I know that," Lucy whispered, eyes downcast. "I know I'm an idealist and that the world doesn't always work the way I think it should. I know good people suffer and bad people get away with making it happen."
"If you know all that," I started, "then-"
"But that's exactly why we need to fight for what's right!" Lucy interrupted, lifting her head and meeting my eyes. "Whether it's a town being threatened by monsters or a woman who thinks she doesn't deserve love – I don't care what the problem is! If I see injustice, I'll face it head-on!"
"And how precisely do you intend to face this problem?" I demanded, exasperated by her insistence.
"By inviting you to form a party with me!" Lucy answered immediately, closing the distance between us once more. "We'll face the demon queen, her forces, and the hardness in your heart, all at the same time!" She reached out for my hand, again, as she spoke. I was too shocked to stop her from lacing her fingers through mine.
"If you fight alone, you'll become your own worst enemy. But if we fight together, our combined strength will let us face obstacles neither of us could handle alone! Mother Morrine has been pushing me to form a party with someone, anyway, and it sounds like you're really strong. You're a nice person, too, I think. But most of all, you're someone who needs my help!"
I stared at Lucy, my mouth ever so slightly agape, trying and all but failing to process what she was saying to me. The heroine was offering me a chance to join her inner circle. To fight alongside her. If I was actually interested in interfering with her, this was a golden opportunity that would likely never come again.
How unfortunate, then, that I had no interest whatsoever in derailing her plans. Joining a party with the heroine struck me as nothing more than a needless headache. Besides which, I was fairly sure simple logistics made it impossible to begin with. Where would she think I was when I was at home in Dimona tower? While I was planning to spend a certain percentage of my time in human lands, the better to build an identity for myself, I was much more interested in establishing myself as a low-tier traveling adventurer. One that could disappear for days on end and then wander back into town without anyone giving it a second thought.
"I refuse," I told Lucy, once more stepping back. "I am still in the midst of my journey. If I allow myself to get tied down here, I'll never finish my training."
"But… But I…" Lucy bit her lip, pulling her fingers away from mine to squeeze them into fists. She was trembling, perhaps aware of how impotent she was before my refusal. Lucy couldn't force me to join her party. If she kept pressing, I would simply use it as an excuse to break away from her and return to the tower. Perhaps she somewhat realized this because she broke eye contact with me and began to stare hard at the ground.
"Fine then," she conceded, after a long moment. "If you won't join my party, then… Then have sex with me, like you promised, instead!"
I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. I hadn't precisely forgotten my vow to fuck her, but I'd rather thought the mood ruined when we started down this line of conversation.
"If… That's what you wish," I agreed, nodding slowly. "We should be far enough from town that nobody will come running if you scream."
"That… That sounds really ominous, but I know you mean well!" Lucy told me. Her hands were still clenched, and her eyes were still locked on the ground at my feet. "I know you're a good person! The sort of person who'd save a village and have sex with me!"
"I hardly think that last part makes me a good person," I protested. "If anything, I imagine I'm committing quite the blasphemy, so far as the church is concerned."
"You definitely are," Lucy admitted, nodding. "The church says anyone who has sex for fun will go to hell. Unless they submit a donation for the sake of absolution, at least. And even then, most people seem to think having sex with me will get them damned for eternity… But… But even if I have no proof… Even if the church says otherwise… I disagree!" Lucy proclaimed, putting her hand on her chest. "I'm sure the Goddess wouldn't give us these urges just to deny them. I think we should do what feels right to us! And what feels right to me is having sex with you, Eena!"
"My, my," I murmured, shaking my head faintly from side to side. "Speaking against the church's teachings? Are you sure you're thinking straight? Getting horny can do strange things to one's thought process."
"Mom always told me I had to think for myself. That I couldn't just blindly follow what the church said, but that I should listen to my heart. The Goddess's voice, what she wants from me – I'm sure it's carved deep inside my soul! That's why, rather than listening to the church, I'm going to do what feels right to me."
"And having sex with me feels right to you?" I asked, the corner of my lip pulling up to form a small smirk. "Are you sure that you're not simply mistaking your own base desires for what the Goddess wants of you? There's nothing wrong with simply wanting to have sex, you know." She was closer to the truth than she knew, so far as I was concerned. There was nothing blasphemous at all about consensual sex. But I still couldn't help but poke fun at the idea that anyone in heaven wanted the heroine to hook up with the demon queen.
Despite my words, the look Lucy was giving me was one of pure conviction. "I'm sure," she informed me, her lips spreading into a grin. "I'm more sure than ever before what the Goddess would want of me, right now!"
"And what she wants is for us to have sex?" I asked, again, unable to help my skepticism.
"No," Lucy denied, to my surprise.
"Then-"
"What she wants is for me to help you! She wants you to realize that you're special! That you're worthy of being loved! That you deserve happiness!" Lucy edged closer to me as she spoke, reaching once more for my hands. I stayed still, too surprised to move, allowing her to recapture my fingers with her own. "She doesn't just want us to have sex. She wants us to be intimate with one another. To grow closer to each other. To understand one another! If you won't listen to my words, and you won't join me so that I can convince you, then I'll simply have to put my all into sex with you! I'll show you with my actions exactly what I think of you and make you admit once and for all that you're lovable!"
"And if I refuse?" I countered. Although I was getting tired of it, I again tugged my hands from her's, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
"Then I'll give up," Lucy told me, still smiling brightly. "But I don't think you will. Not knowing how much sex means to me."
For a long moment, I was silent, simply staring into Lucy's eyes. I was looking for some crack in her resolve, some indication that she might back down. I found nothing.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I grumbled, sliding my fingers beneath the hem of my black top. I pulled it overhead in one smooth motion, letting my breasts flounce free of the material. I was distinctly aware of Lucy's eyes on me, even with the black shirt covering my eyes, but I expected her gaze to be somewhere more polite by the time I pulled the top off completely.
I was wrong. Lucy's eyes remained locked on my tits, even as my own gaze settled on her. To be more specific, her eyes were practically latched onto my left nipple, and her fingers were opening and closing as if she were desperately trying to resist the temptation to grab onto something. She licked her lips as I watched before forcing her eyes to meet mine.
"You're really hot," Lucy informed me, grinning again. "Like. Wow. I can't believe I get to have sex with you? It's going to be so amazing!"
"Yes, well, the feeling is mutual," I asserted, giving Lucy a once over. The armor did an excellent job of showing off her figure, with the upper half clinging to her curves and her leather skirt doing little to hide the shapeliness of her legs. Combining that with Jacob's memory of the game, I had a relatively good idea of what I was working with. Enough to declare Lucy attractive, at least.
"You do plan to undress, don't you?" I asked since Lucy was still staring hungrily at my tits. "I'm afraid the sex will be rather one-sided if you don't."
"R-Right!" Lucy reached up toward her shoulders, as she spoke, starting to fiddle with her armor.
I left her to it, slipping my thumbs into the waistband of my skirt. A simple tug and the red fabric was pooled around my ankles, leaving me in a pair of black panties and heels.
Lucy was moving at breakneck speed and was already shimmying out of her skirt and showing off her pure white panties. She tugged those off, too, revealing a perfect slit beneath a red bush. I wondered idly what she'd make of my own, clean-shaven look.
As for my own underwear, I chose to wait until Lucy had sat down to take off her greaves. Then I reached down to undo the straps on my shoes, shoved down my panties, stepped out of both, and sat down as quickly as possible, hoping Lucy wouldn't notice my reduced height. As much as I loathed to admit it, I was a mere five foot four without heels. If my memory of the wiki was to be trusted, Lucy was five foot six.
Having sex with Lucy was fine, but I'd brave both heaven and hell before letting the heroine know she was taller than me.
"So… What now?" Lucy asked me, once we were both well and truly naked. We were sitting on the forest floor, a bed of leaves, pine needles, and the occasional twig beneath us. Lucy, for her part, was nervously wrapping a few strands of her red hair about her forefinger. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes kept darting between my tits and pussy. Occasionally she'd tear her eyes away and stare at the ground for a moment, but her eyes would always travel back again. The only place her gaze never quite settled on was my face.
Well, that wouldn't do at all.
I moved quickly, not giving Lucy time to react. I didn't reach for Lucy but rather reached past her, my body pressing hers down. My hand slammed into the ground, as did Lucy's back, and a small squeak escaped the heroine's throat as my lips pulled into a smile. Reaching out with my other hand, I gently grabbed Lucy's chin and waited for her gaze to meet mine.
"Focus on me, Lucy," I whispered. "Not my tits. Or my snatch. Or my ass. Or whatever else it is you're imagining right now. I know my body can be quite enticing, but the first lesson in making a woman feel good is that you have to pay attention to the woman, herself. Not just her assets. Understand?"
I took my hand from Lucy's chin, and she gave me a firm nod of acknowledgment. Her eyes were now locked fully on mine.
"Good girl," I praised Lucy, reaching out to pat her on the head. This caused another blush to spread across the poor thing's cheeks, which only made me smile wider. "Now, how about I show off a thing or two about how to please a woman?"
Lucy nodded rapidly, her cheeks growing even brighter. I chuckled softly, moving my way down Lucy's body. With one hand still pressed against the ground, supporting my weight, I moved the other to ever so gently cup one of Lucy's tits. It was large, only slightly smaller than my own, and it filled my hand completely. I curved my fingers about the flesh and shifted my thumb to ever so gently brush against the tip of her nipple. This caused Lucy to stiffen, much like the nipple itself.
"You can still ask me to stop," I remarked, eyes flicking up to Lucy's. "If you're uncertain."
Lucy shook her head, though, a determined look in her eyes. "I want this," she promised me, with a grin. "It already feels so good!"
"As long as you're sure…" I waited a moment in case she chose to change her mind, then shrugged my shoulders and lowered my lips to her tit. My warm breath washed over the nipple, warming it. Then my thumb brushed against the nipple, again, making sure it was nice and hard. Lowering my mouth to it, I ever so gently nipped the sensitive flesh before sealing my lips about the teat and lightly sucking.
Lucy let out a low moan in response, an almost animalistic sound of need and want. She repeated that sound, near enough, when I let my tongue dart against her nipple as my hand squeezed her tit.
I wasn't satisfied with mere moans, though. I wanted to make Lucy scream. To that end, I moved my mouth away from the nipple and began to kiss my way down the side of her breast, into the cleavage. When I reached the taut flesh between her breasts, I moved to scrape my teeth ever so barely against the skin, then licked the line of abraded flesh before plastering it with tiny kisses. My eyes flicked up toward Lucy's face as my lips shifted to seal themselves on the so-far untouched nipple, opposite to my starting point. Lucy's mouth was open, and little sounds were pouring out of her. Whimpers, moans, and pleas for more. It was enough to make me smile.
I pinched her nipple between my teeth, not biting down but merely holding the peak in place as my tongue struck against it. My hand squeezed her other breast, the thumb moving in slow circles about the areola, as I graduated from biting to sucking on her tit. Lucy continued to make noises above me, but I could tell she was still holding herself back, trying not to be too loud. If she could still hold herself back, then I wasn't nearly finished yet.
Releasing Lucy's breast, I pushed myself into a kneeling position. Lucy was panting below me, her hair splayed out against the ground, her wide eyes all but rolled back into her head. After a few seconds without touch, she regained her ability to see straight and focused her gaze on me.
I smiled the moment I knew she could see it, and then lowered my head down to her thighs. Kissing one, I slid my hands between her legs and delicately pressed them apart. I could feel a faint tremble in Lucy's body as she realized what I was planning, and her breathing picked up its pace in what I thought to be excitement.
"It's not too late to stop me, heroine," I reminded her, my lips pulling up into a smirk. "Do you really want me to ravish you?"
"I want it more than anything," Lucy confessed, her eyes as honest as they were eager. "But what about you? I want to make you feel good too!"
"You first," I insisted, with a small shake of my head. "Unless you actually know how to bring another lady pleasure?"
Lucy didn't respond, which was answer enough. I smirked, lowering my head to kiss her lightly on the inner thigh, then moved up to press my lips against her outer labia. Leaning in even closer, clutching at her thighs for support, I gave Lucy's slit a long lick, causing her to squeak. Then I pressed my face up against her, the bush tickling my nose, her scent filling my nostrils. She smelled of sweat, and hard work, mixed with the heady scent of arousal. There was something else, too, an undercurrent to it all that my nose could just barely pick out—the sweet smell of Lucy, herself.
My tongue pushed out, pressing into Lucy's folds, causing her to let out a soft moan. I pressed even deeper, shoving my face against her snatch, working my tongue as deep inside as I could. At the same time, I moved one of my hands to slide up her thigh, my fingers slipping through the hair of her bush. As my tongue pulled out of her, I gave a firm tug on the short hairs, and at the same time let my tongue dart out to flick against Lucy's clit.
That got the high pitched scream I was after, a sound of pleasure tinged with the faintest bit of pain. I again pushed my tongue into her while simultaneously letting her curly red hairs trail through my fingers. My thumb found her clit, nestled in a tiny little hood. It was still wet from my tongue, and the pad of my thumb slid easily across its surface.
My ministrations soon had Lucy squirming and panting above me. When my thumb brushed against her clit, her thighs squeezed tight around my head. When my tongue worked its way into her slit, working its way through the tight but slick channel, she let out a loud moan. When I pulled away from her sopping wet pussy, she let out a little whimper of need, but when I nipped and kissed and sucked at her inner thigh, playing with her clit all the while, she soon devolved back into moans and cries of pleasure. Then my tongue returned to her snatch, licking across the surface. I moved my hand from her bush, reorienting it so that it slid under her. My fingers were pressed up against her needy slit while my thumb was once more positioned to play with her clit. My tongue worked at her opening, even as my finger pressed into the channel.
Lucy's walls pressed tight against my intruding finger, but her natural lubrication was more than enough for me to work the digit in and out. I pushed deeper, then pulled back, then pressed in again. The pace was easy to establish, and the pattern simple as could be, though I did let my thumb brush her clit every few thrusts.
Of course, I wasn't just pumping in her body for the sake of it. If I simply wanted to make her cum, I could simply have kept up what I'd been doing so far. But I was after a different sort of orgasm, this time. The type that originated from deep within a woman's channel. The first few strokes of my finger failed to find anything, but the fifth time my digit plunged into her, I felt her suddenly stiffen as my fingertips brushed against a particular spot.
I pulled my finger away from her g-spot and almost entirely out of her vagina. I kept only the very tip of my nail still inside her as if I were trying to keep my place in a book. My mouth moved to kiss her inner thigh, on the same spot where I'd nipped and sucked at her a moment before. I'd given her a hickey there. I was sure of it.
Then I turned my attention back to her clitoris. Sealing my lips around the cute little button and sucking at it like a straw, I pushed my finger deep inside her once more. Teasing my finger against her special spot, even as my tongue darted out against her clit, it wasn't long at all before Lucy's thighs tightened about me, and she let out an ear-shattering scream.
Lucy was louder than I'd expected her to be. The grip of her thighs was tighter than I could have imagined, too. If I were anyone but the demon queen, she might have caused me serious injury. As it was, it felt quite nice to have her soft thighs pressing hard against my skull. Besides which, it blocked out some of her scream.
When she was finished, Lucy stayed lying on the ground, her chest rising and falling with each heavy breath she took.
"That… That was amazing," she declared, reaching out her hand in yet another attempt to grab me. I didn't resist but allowed her fingers to twine about mine as a slow grin spread across Lucy's lips. "But now it's my turn, right? I want to make you feel good, too!"
"Or we could do you, again," I offered, trying to hide a sudden pang of nervousness. Bringing the heroine to orgasm was one thing, but putting myself in that same vulnerable position was a different matter entirely.
Lucy, however, only blinked at me in confusion. "Again? But I already had that really-good feeling. Doesn't that mean it's over?"
"…Someone is going to pay for your lack of sexual education," I muttered darkly. "Lucy. Girls can orgasm multiple times in a single sitting. With how strong your body is, I'm sure you could go another two, three times."
"I could do that again!?" Lucy demanded, eyes wide. "More than once? I-I mean… No!" She gave a furious shake of her head. "Not until I make you feel good, Eena!"
"Then how about a compromise?" I suggested, not willing to let it drop. "We can eat each other out at the same time."
"E-eat each other out?" Lucy asked, curling a bit of red hair about her finger as she thought. "Is that the thing you were doing with your tongue? And your hand…"
"Precisely," I confirmed, smiling at her. "I'll be on top; you take the bottom. My lips on your sex, your mouth on mine. All you'll need to do is follow my lead."
"And I'll definitely get to make you feel good?" Lucy pressed, her eyes searching mine.
"Promise." I met her gaze as I spoke, trying to convey with my eyes that I meant what I said.
"…I'm not sure about being on the bottom," Lucy admitted, breaking eye contact with me. "I mean, the main point of this is for me to pleasure you, so shouldn't you be the one lying down?"
"Thank you, but I'd rather not." I was already concerned about being so vulnerable before the heroine. Topping would at least give me some illusion of control over the situation. "Of course, if that's a deal-breaker, we can simply skip the whole thing? I did undoubtedly fulfill my promise."
"No!" Lucy dissented, shaking her head back and forth so frantically that I practically got whiplash just from looking at it. "You made me feel so good, Eena. I don't think I'd ever be able to forgive myself if I didn't do the same for you! And besides," she added, with a determined frown, "I haven't given up on making you realize how lovable you are!"
"You're still on that?" I groused, glaring at her. "You've had an orgasm, yes? You should know full well, then, that there's no intrinsic connection between that pleasure and true love."
"Maybe that's true," Lucy admitted, biting her lower lip. "But I don't think it's entirely separate, either! I'm sure the sex was only so good because you honestly cared about bringing me pleasure! And even if that's not love, it still shows caring and affection, right? I want to show those same things to you!"
"…Do what you will." I sighed, pushing myself up onto my feet. A moment later, I had lowered myself again, this time straddling Lucy. As I'd promised, my pussy was within reach of Lucy's lips, while her slick slit was close enough for me to catch its delightful scent.
Lucy was still wet from my earlier efforts. I was sure that if I simply lowered my head to her snatch, I could make her feel good. If I skipped foreplay, however, I was quite confident that she'd follow my example. Even if I saw my own pleasure as secondary, for this encounter, I didn't want to lead her astray in this matter. If nothing else, it was my duty as queen to ensure that my generals would enjoy their eventual defeats.
With that in mind, I decided to start with a soft kiss to Lucy's inner thigh. As I'd predicted, Lucy did the same to me, leaning up to press lips against me. I sucked the flesh between my teeth, hard enough to leave a bruise, but didn't bite. I then waited for Lucy to do the same – but she surprised me. Instead of merely sucking at my thigh, Lucy bit the flesh ever so faintly, pinching it between her teeth and then releasing to lick the spot. Before I could even react, she was already running her fingers gently across the flesh as if to soothe my non-existent wound.
It seemed that Lucy had learned a thing or two from my earlier demonstration. With that in mind, I decided to speed up the pace of our encounter, kissing up the length of her thigh and stopping only when my lips were pressed against her inner folds. There, my teeth again came into play, ever so barely scraping against her tender flesh. Then my tongue pressed itself against the folds that I'd treated so cruelly, and I gave a drawn-out lick to her sweet snatch.
My actions pulled a long, low moan from Lucy, and I could feel her shuddering ever so faintly beneath me. Still, she wasn't one to be left behind. She pressed her lips against my own wet pussy, pushing her tongue into my entrance and drawing her first lick of my flesh. I worried for a moment that she wouldn't enjoy the taste, but then her tongue pressed again against my opening. Her licks were soft and fast but moved with a speed that spoke of excitement and joy. I could just imagine her, eyes wide, lips spread into a grin, as she licked eagerly at my snatch. The thought brought a smile to my lips, entirely separate from the warm pleasure that was suffusing my body in response to Lucy's tongue.
I pressed my lips back against Lucy's sweet sex, this time sealing my lips on the clitoris. I pressed my teeth against it, careful not to bite or even scrape the flesh, merely wanting Lucy to feel the difference in texture. Then I pulled away, licking the clit, before lifting a finger to Lucy's entrance.
Lucy beat me to the punch, catching me off guard when she slipped a finger into my entrance, causing me to squeak a little in surprise. Her tongue worked at my flesh, moving around her finger as it started to press into me. My inner walls tightened about the digit, but just as my strength had overcome Lucy's resistance, so too was Lucy able to overcome mine. Her finger started to move slowly in and out, searching for my g-spot. Since I had a few extra nerves in there, however, even the basic touches were more pleasurable than they should have been, and soon I was biting my lip to try and keep from screaming out.
Unwilling to leave it at that, I pushed my own finger into Lucy's opening. I knew exactly where her g-spot was, but I chose not to go for it right away. Instead, I worked a second finger into Lucy's snatch, coaxing her body into taking the penetration and then squirming my way deeper inside. Two fingers worked even better than one for bringing noises from Lucy's lips, and for a moment, the finger inside me faltered in its movements.
But I'd forgotten something important – that Lucy was taking her cues from me. Since I'd pressed a second finger inside of her, she started to work another digit into my body. I wasn't as wet as she was, but after eating out a beautiful woman I couldn't help being aroused. It didn't take her long to get the second finger inside me.
I'd had a tongue inside me before, but never someone else's finger. Certainly never two. It was a completely new experience for me. The same was true for Lucy, though, and I had no intention of cumming before she did. I began to pump my two fingers deeper inside her, pressing the pads of the digits against her inner walls and letting my barely-there nails glide across her flesh. I found the g-spot that I'd been ignoring so far and began to rub at the spot that had caused her to cum so recently.
Lucy's breath started to pick up in pace, and her fingers pulled out of my snatch. I wondered for a moment if she had given up, but then her lips sealed themselves about my slit, and her tongue once more worked its way inside me. I could her thumb clumsily pressing against my clit, teasing at the folds of my clitoral hood as she tried to expose it for further attention. After a moment, her tongue pulled away from my pussy, no doubt so that she could have a better view of what she was doing. Indeed, the touches to my clit became much more sure afterward, and by the time her tongue pushed its way back into my entrance, she was once more working my button like a pro.
I wasn't sitting still, either. My fingers continued to rub at Lucy's g-spot, and I took turns kissing, rubbing, and even lightly pressing my nose against her clit. I wanted to give her a variety of experiences, a medley of textures. I wanted her to feel wonderful. I wanted her to cum, preferably before I did.
There was no particular reason for it. I couldn't say what drove me to work so hard. Perhaps it was mere competitiveness that kept my fingers pumping inside Lucy. Maybe it was the natural rivalry between demon queen and heroine that made me work at her with my tongue, even as I teased her clit with my thumb and worked my fingers against her g-spot. Or maybe it was merely my pride, as a sexual being, that said I couldn't cum until I'd given this girl the excellent time she deserved.
Whatever the cause, I succeeded. My two fingers rubbed lightly at Lucy's g-spot, at the same time as my tongue pressed against her clit, and she let out another high pitched scream as her thighs tightened about my head. I took that opportunity to bite her inner thigh, eliciting an even louder scream, before licking and kissing the flesh. It was more or less the same spot I'd marked earlier, though, to my disappointment, the hickey had already healed. This time I worked even harder to leave an imprint, pulling her flesh between my teeth and nipping hard at the skin before kissing it once again. I suspected it would heal quickly, all the same, but I was also sure she wouldn't need a mark to remember this kiss.
Her thighs loosened from around my head, and her screams trailed off. I thought perhaps it was over, but Lucy had other ideas. She gripped both of my thighs with her hands, lifted her mouth to my snatch, and began to press her tongue within me once again. Furiously licking, parting every few minutes to nip at my thighs or lick at my clit, it didn't take long for me to feel the same pressure that had just exploded out of Lucy building within myself. It was like a fire in my core, getting hotter and hotter until it was threatening to burst from its container.
Then she pressed her fingers into me, again, sliding two in from the start. It was a little difficult for her to get them in at first, but she managed to work them deep within me. Feeling them inside my pussy, I couldn't stop a soft moan.
That seemed to invigorate Lucy even further. She began to focus more attention on my clit, kissing and licking and sucking it, occasionally nosing it. She never bit it, but she did nip the skin around it, even lightly teasing my clitoral hood with her teeth. All the while heat and pressure built inside me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.
Then her fingers found my g-spot. It was like a star exploding in my head. My vision went white, and my eyes began to flutter as my body spasmed out of my control. I collapsed against Lucy's body, as heat washed over my entire being, and a scream tore itself from my throat.
When I came back to myself, my cheeks were pressed against Lucy's thighs. The heroine, for her part, was panting heavily beneath me. When I pushed myself up to my feet and turned about to face her, I saw a wide grin on her lips.
"Did I do it?" she asked me. "Did I make you feel loved?"
"Well, you made me feel something," I confessed, not quite answering the question. Lucy looked so happy, I didn't want to take the feeling away from her. But I still didn't feel any more lovable than before.
"I put everything into it," Lucy told me, still smiling as she sat up. "All my emotions. All my feelings! Everything I felt for you! You felt it, right? The care and affection that I put into it?"
"I felt good," I said, still evading the question. "If that was the result of your affection, then I suppose it was well done." I wasn't going to change how I viewed myself, though. Not based on a single night of sex.
"It was the most amazing thing ever," Lucy gushed, reaching for one of her greaves. "I mean, your tongue! And your fingers! And the way you played with that special nub…"
"It's called a clitoris, Lucy," I informed her. "Or a clit if you're feeling informal." I reached for my own top, then paused as a large, brown snout pressed its way out of the bushes in front of me.
I stood, and the creature did the same. Only the beast was much taller than me when it rose to two legs. That made sense, considering it was a bear.
Or at least I thought it was a bear. I'd never seen one with spikes along its spine and elbows before.
"A spiked bear!?" Lucy demanded, immediately shooting up to her feet. She was wearing one of her greeves, and absolutely nothing else. "Oh no! All that noise we made!"
"…Indeed," I murmured, sighing softly. I had been so concerned with ensuring the villagers wouldn't hear us, I'd failed to consider that something else entirely might respond to our squeaks, squeals, and screams.
It seemed that I had another monster to fight.
Today's bonus trivia? When I was first writing this chapter, I knew there was going to be sex involved - but I did not expect it to be with Lucy! Devilla made her little comment, and then Lucy reacted in a way I didn't expect, and then Devilla reacted to that, and. Well. Here we are! Kinda love it when characters do that to me. (That said, I do want to shift some things when I edit this part for publication - I want the sex scene to stay, so Devilla will likely still end up teasing Lucy, but I want to shift how it happens, just a little. Don't have anything concrete planned, just know I'm going to be poking at stuff.)
More bonus trivia? This is actually the longest chapter so far, for those curious - it clocked in at over 10,000 words! I needed a break after writing it, as you can probably imagine - but since that was a while back, I'll still be posting chapter 7 tomorrow!
Trivia aside? LUCY. Lucy lucy lucy! I love Lucy so much, honestly. She's this energetic bundle of "good girl," not quite innocent but still fairly naive. She just wants to make friends, have sex, and save the world~! Normal Heroine stuff, right?
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
This chapter was edited by Vivian Newswanger. Going forward, I got a proofreader starting with chapter 7, and then a new (permanent) editor and proofreader starting with chapter 8.
I stared at the bear before me. It was something like nine feet tall, standing on its hind legs. It had dark brown fur, with lighter brown spikes extending from its spine and elbows. They looked remarkably sharp, but I doubted they were that sturdy. Nothing I couldn't snap off if things got really desperate.
The creature didn't move during my examination. I could almost imagine that it was looking me over, in turn, trying to decide whether I was worth feasting upon. Not an impossibility, actually, if it was anywhere near intelligent as the wolves.
"You do not want to fight me," I warned, letting some of the magic within me spill out and over the beast. I wasn't expecting the bear to submit as the wolf had, but I did think it would turn and flee once it felt the difference between us.
To my surprise, it let out a roar and swung for my head with one of its massive paws. I ducked beneath it but didn't strike back, too worried about what Lucy might think if I sent the beast flying.
"Wh-what's going on?" Lucy demanded from behind me. She was still undressed, wearing only one greave, but now clutched her sword in her hand. "Spiked bears are pretty curious, but they don't usually attack unless they feel threatened!"
...Ah. Perhaps this was my fault, then? I felt bad for the bear, in that case, but I had little choice but to deal with the threat before me.
"Lucy!" I called out, dodging another of its blows. "If I can keep it occupied, can you take it down?"
"I think so!"
"You think so?" I questioned, grimacing a little. I wanted to pretend that I was weaker than Lucy, for the sake of my disguise, but if Lucy was the pinnacle of human strength then I really didn't know what to say.
"I can try!" Lucy declared, holding her sword up high. "Usually I'd say we should run, but if it's attacking people for no reason then we definitely can't let it go!"
"Good girl," I responded, lifting both hands and grabbing hold of the paw that swung toward me. I tried to make it look like a struggle, allowing its claws to get perilously close to my face.
"Now Lucy!" I yelled, pressing back against the paw.
The bear growled in response, as Lucy leveled her blade toward the creature. Before she could step forward, however, I heard a roar behind me. I couldn't turn around, but I could easily guess what it was.
"A second spiked bear!?" Lucy cried out, confirming my suspicions. "It must be the first one's mate!"
"Then I imagine it's not going to be very happy about this," I muttered, taking advantage of Lucy's distraction to thrust the bear's claws away from my face and step backward.
"Shall we each take one?" I asked Lucy, eyeing the bear. Its muscles seemed to tense under my gaze, as if it was wary of what I might do. It didn't show any sign of backing down, though.
"Each take one?" Lucy asked me, her orange eyes going wide as dinner plates. "Eena, you could barely fight it!"
"Physically, perhaps, but you haven't seen me use magic yet." Humans weren't supposed to be strong enough to toss bears about, but magic was another matter. Magic capacity fluctuated wildly from person to person, after all. "Can you take the other bear, Lucy?"
"...I'll manage!" Lucy declared, lifting her sword up in front of her face.
A small smile tugged across my lips at the display of determination. "Good girl," I repeated, turning my attention back to the beast before me.
It roared, dropping down to all fours and charging toward me. Its mouth opened as it ran, wider than I would have thought possible. I could see four rows of teeth in its maw, all razor-sharp. All rushing toward me.
I dodged to the right, elbowing the beast in its side and driving it into the earth. Then I ran a bolt of electricity through its body, causing its fur to stand on end as its body twitched beneath me. When I cut off the flow of electricity, the monster was already unconscious.
Lucy's back was to me, her focus on the other bear; I had no reason to hold back. Still, I chose not to go for the finishing blow. The creature had, ultimately, only attacked because of my own actions. It felt wrong to kill it for that.
Unfortunately, I couldn't expect the same result from Lucy's fight. When I turned my attention to her, I found her battling it out with everything she had, deflecting the creature's claws with her sword, dodging strikes, and cutting into the bear whenever she could. It had a myriad of red stains on its fur, from numerous shallow wounds, but it looked no closer to going down.
"Perhaps I can help?" I called out, as Lucy dodged one of the beast's paws.
"You're already done!?" Lucy called back, voice pitched high in obvious shock. Not that she let the surprise slow her down. She dodged another blow, as I watched, and gave the bear another shallow cut on its side. It seemed obvious to me that Lucy was winning, but how long could she keep it up? Even if she had the stamina, the bear only needed to get a single good strike in to win this.
"I got a few lucky blows in," I lied. "Do you need help, or not?"
"I could really use some!" Lucy called out to me. "This one's really strong! If my sword wasn't unbreakable, I'd probably be dead!"
"Unbreakable?" I asked, mentally sifting through my options. Perhaps a small shock? Not enough to bring the bear down, but enough that Lucy could find an opening for the final blow? That would allow the heroine to keep thinking she was stronger than me. "I'm sure it's well crafted, but if you treat your blade as if it's unbreakable you're going to end up in trouble."
"No, it's literally unbreakable!" Lucy insisted, bracing the sword above her head to block an overhead swing from the bear. "It's a holy blade!"
"What? So it's..." Indestructible. That was the word on my tongue, but I couldn't force it past my lips. A holy, indestructible sword? There was only one that I knew of, in the entire world.
It had been my mother's.
"Lucy?" I called out, voice trembling faintly. "Where did you get that blade?"
"Huh? My sword? It was a gift from the Grand Patriarch himself! Apparently, the demon queen stole it from heaven, but the church recovered it for the sake of the Goddess! It's a really nice sword, but…" Lucy paused, using her sword to ward off another of the beast's blows. "But it's not really enough right now! A little help, please?"
I didn't respond. My eyes were locked on the weapon Lucy held. The holy blade that was mine by right. The miraculous item that had been stolen from us when my mother fell. I could feel my handscurling into fists, my nails biting into my palms.
"Eena?" Lucy called out again, as the bear drew back a step. "Eena, what's wrong? I could really use some help!" The bear dropped down on all fours, its eyes locked on Lucy. Its jaw opened wide, revealing rows of teeth that were obviously meant for tearing at meat. It charged toward Lucy. "Eena!" she shouted, desperately, jumping to the side.
The bear didn't stop its charge, even after Lucy leaped out of the way. It continued moving forward, running straight past her and toward me. Its jaws were mere moments away from me, but I wasn't scared. I doubted it could hurt me, but it was welcome to try. I probably deserved it, letting Lucy fight and risk her life like that. Not helping when I said I would. When I'd caused this problem to begin with. I knew that was wrong.
It was just that she had my mother's sword.
"Eena!" Lucy called out, terror in her voice as the creature's claws came toward my head.
Suddenly, a blur of black and red struck against the bear's side. The monster let out a roar of pain and surprise, striking at the thing that had hurt it, and sending a black-furred creature tumbling across the forest floor. It came to a stop right in front of me, whimpering faintly.
"...You…" I whispered, staring at the horned wolf I had spared a few days prior. She whimpered again, in response, her dark eyes fluttering open. Her gaze focused on me, and she let out another noise. She sounded somehow happy, as if she was relieved I was alright.
…What, precisely, was I doing? Allowing people to worry over me, to get hurt over me, because of some sword? What would I have done if the beast had chosen to focus on Lucy, instead of the one who'd taken down its mate? Had I not spent the day thinking of Lucy as another victim of the church? Could I have lived with myself if she had died? I was ashamed of myself.
I turned my attention to the bear. The wolf's horn had struck it in the side, and a patch of its fur was blackening and falling away. That didn't stop it from turning toward me again, roaring loudly before beginning its next charge.
"Eena!" Lucy shouted out, pushing herself up onto her feet. There was fear in her eyes. A fear she held for me. She honestly thought I was in danger. Would her fear for me turn into fear of me when she saw what I was capable of?
Casually, I lifted a hand toward the beast, as if I intended to stop its charge with no more than my palm. A bolt of lightning shot out from the center of my hand, striking the bear mid charge and causing its muscles to spasm. It collapsed to the ground, tumbling forward and coming to a halt a few inches in front of me. It was still breathing, but in bad shape.
I stepped toward the creature, grabbing a hold of it by the scruff of the neck and dragging it toward the other bear. I was aware of Lucy staring at me, eyes wide, but I didn't say anything. I only placed my hands on both bears and sent warmth into their bodies.
As with the wolf, pouring my healing energies into the bears resulted in a sudden understanding of their anatomy. They were both females, though that hardly discounted Lucy's theory of them being mates. I wasn't entirely sure how monsters reproduced, but if it was like monster girls then sex itself wasn't actually necessary. Reproduction, at least for us, was more about intermixing magical energies.
"Eena?" Lucy called out behind me, stepping toward me. "What… what are you doing?"
"I'm healing them," I responded, calmly. "To begin with, they only attacked because they felt my magic power." I knew Lucy was going to object. These were dangerous creatures which posed a potential threat to humanity. But that wasn't all they were. The way the second one had come right for me, only facing Lucy long enough to get her out of the way before charging at the one who stood over its mate… I couldn't hate a creature capable of loving another like that. I couldn't kill them in a fight I had unintentionally provoked.
Lucy didn't respond, but her lips pressed together into a thin line at my words. I imagined that she was angry, but I didn't stop what I was doing. Not even as she crouched beside me, and held out her own palm toward the bears. "...Bellora radem akor morrin."
White light spilled from Lucy's hand, bright even beneath the light of the sun. Instantly, the blackened flesh and fur of the bear on my right began to lighten and heal. The fur that had fallen away grew back before my eyes. What's more, my magic told me that the electrical damage I'd inflicted on both bears was starting to heal. In moments, it was gone altogether and the two beasts were slumbering peacefully before us.
"...That was holy magic." It wasn't a question. I had felt the warmth of it as it intermingled with my own magic, and there was no mistaking it for anything else. Not for me, at least.
"You're really strong, Eena," Lucy told me, instead of confirming. A small smile was touching her lips. "Your magic is amazing, and your physical strength - I've never met anyone like you before. You must have trained so hard… I totally understand how you took on those wolves, now!"
"...You are not mad at me for hiding my strength?"
"You're really strong," Lucy repeated, her smile brightening. "But you're even more kind. The way you saved the village, and then the way you decided to spare the bears - and I bet you did something really nice for that wolf, over there, too…"
The wolf in question was still laying on the floor. She was breathing heavily, but otherwise seemed unhurt to my eye. I wanted to check on her, but my attention was currently locked on Lucy.
"And you're not mad that I helped monsters?"
Lucy hesitated a moment. When she spoke, her voice was soft but firm with conviction. "The church says that monsters are evil. That they've been tainted by demonic energy. But my mom never believed that. She told me that monsters were just animals with a little extra magic. And demons are just people with a few extra parts. She said people used to know that, but then the demon queen came and made us all start fighting each other."
"...From your own words, that's a rather blasphemous viewpoint," I pointed out. Honestly, other than the part about Luci instigating things, what she said wasn't too far off from what the demons taught. Supposedly, in the ancient past the world had been filled with wild magic. The theory was that monsters came from animals being exposed to that magic during pregnancy. There were even some who took it a step further and claimed that monster girls had originated from monsters undergoing the same process.
"My mom was pretty blasphemous, for a priestess," Lucy confessed. "I told you before, right? That she always said she wanted me to think for myself, and not just do what the church told me."
"Why are you telling me this?" I demanded. "You're the heroine. Surely you've been encouraged to keep your mouth shut on such things?"
"I'm telling you because I trust you, Eena!" Lucy told me, smiling brightly. "And I want you to know you can trust me, too! I don't know how you got so strong, or what you've been through because of that strength. Maybe you've been judged before? Maybe people used you for your strength, or hurt you, or even accused you of things. I'm sure you have all sorts of reasons why you didn't want to tell me everything. But I don't need to know everything! All that matters to me is that you're a good person. A good friend! And if you ever want to join my party, I'll be waiting."
Lucy stood with those words, walking over to her armor and plopping back down to the earth. I stood silently as she put her armor on. I didn't say a word, even when she buckled her sword around her waist. I simply watched her, uncertain what to make of everything she'd said.
"I think I'm going to go now," Lucy informed me after she was fully dressed. "I can try to heal the wolf before I go if you'd like."
The wolf in question was still laying on the forest floor, but her breathing had evened and she didn't seem to be in any pain. The moment Lucy's eyes swung over to her, however, the wolf moved into a sitting position and let out a low growl.
"...It's fine. I can handle that much," I promised Lucy, striding toward the wolf. She quieted as I approached, and I crouched down beside her to offer my hand. She sniffed at my fingers for a moment, and then licked my hand. Her eyes returned to Lucy immediately afterward, but I thought she seemed just a little more relaxed.
"That's so cute!" Lucy declared, smiling brightly at us. "You should make sure it doesn't follow you to any towns, though. Not everyone looks at monsters the way I do."
"I'll be careful," I vowed, frowning. "But are you seriously telling me you intend to leave? What happened to taking me to the next town?" It wasn't as if I wanted Lucy's company. The sooner she left the sooner I could make my flight back to the tower, after all, but it worried me that I couldn't tell what was going through her mind.
"I promised you I'd leave if you proved you could take care of yourself, right?" Lucy reminded me. She was still smiling, but her eyes didn't quite meet mine. "And…"
"And?" I pressed, idly running my fingers through the wolf's fur.
"And I want you to trust me, Eena! I want you to know you can! So I have to keep my word, right?" Lucy's eyes met mine, at last. They were wet with tears. "You made me feel so good, today. You made me feel like I mattered as a person, and not just as the heroine. I'm really glad you took my virginity, and I really hope you'll have sex with me again! Even if you don't, I definitely want to see you again. And I'm really scared I won't…"
"Lucy…" I started, then stopped. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to assure her that we'd meet again, but I didn't know that it would happen. I'd never wanted us to meet to begin with.
"I'll be in Rendra City, for a while," Lucy apprised me, smiling softly. "If you head north down the road, you can't miss it. I'll be staying at the church. So. If you want to meet again, like I do… I really hope you'll come to find me."
I nodded, slowly. Lucy's lips were set in a smile, but I couldn't help but notice the sadness in her gaze. She truly didn't want this to be goodbye.
"...Well. I'll be going now!" Lucy declared, forcing an even wider smile for my benefit. "I really hope to see you soon! But if not, I'll understand." She turned away from me with those words and started to walk away.
I knew I had to let her go. It was in my best interest that she walk away, and forget about me.
I knew that, but…
"One week!" I called out. Lucy paused mid step, but didn't turn around. "One week," I repeated, more softly this time. "In one week, I will come to Rendra City. And if you are still there, then… perhaps… We can have more sex."
"...Do you mean it?" Lucy's words were almost a whisper, barely audible even to my ears. She turned toward me, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Do you mean it?" she asked, again, louder this time. "You really want to see me again?"
"I don't recall saying that," I protested, my gaze dropping to the floor. "I simply think that we have more to offer each other. I can teach you about sex, and you can help me with the adventurer's guild." I stole a glance at Lucy's face. She was smiling.
"I'll be waiting in the church, okay? One week! I'll definitely still be there!"
"Yes, yes, whatever you say," I muttered, turning my gaze back to the forest floor.
"I'll see you in a week, Eena!" Lucy said, again. I lifted my gaze after she'd turned around, watching as she disappeared beyond the trees. Once she was out of sight, I let out a long sigh and shook my head.
"I don't suppose you'd know why I did that, would you girl?" I asked the wolf laying in front of me. She whined faintly in response and nuzzled her snout against my hand. "It seems not…" I sighed. "Well, perhaps it's not the worst thing to be spending time around her. I might even learn a thing or two. For example…"
I stood, walked over to a nearby tree, and casually broke off one of the thicker branches. Then I held the jagged piece of wood up against the tree, fitting it back into place as best I could, and held my other palm out toward the break.
"Bellora radem akor morrin." I felt something light up inside me as I spoke as if my very soul was resonating with the words. As a pleasant warmth lit up inside my chest, and a light began to emanate from my palm. Before my eyes the tree began to heal, the fibers of the branch and tree rejoined as the cracks in the bark began to disappear. In seconds, I was staring at a fully repaired branch.
"Good," I declared, smiling widely. "It didn't explode." Considering how badly my last attempt at holy magic had gone, I was rather terrified of what might happen if I made a mistake with a healing spell. I'd only heard Lucy say it once, so mispronunciation had been a real risk.
"Ideally, I'd write it down at this point, but failing that…" I broke the branch, again, and repeated the process. I did this again and again until I was convinced the words were transcribed in my brain. Then I walked over to the wolf and crouched beside her again.
"Sorry about the wait," I told the wolf, reaching out to pet her. "This might tingle a bit." I ran arcane magic through the wolf as I spoke, looking for any signs of damage. The bear had hit her pretty hard, and it seemed she had a bruise beneath her ribs, but that was about all. I was tempted to use holy magic on her, now that I'd finally learned a spell, but as much as I wanted to shift to animal trials I couldn't bring myself to use my rescuer as a guinea pig. I decided to stick with the healing I'd used so far, instead.
A few seconds of concentrated effort was all it took to restore the wolf to peak condition. When it was done, I stood upright with a small smile and brushed the dust off my skirt.
"I suppose I should be going, now…" I murmured to myself, walking over to the potato sacks. The wolf walked beside me and sat in front of me as I fed the potatoes into my empty bag. She had an almost expectant look in her eyes. I thought perhaps she wanted a potato for some reason, but even after I'd put the last of them away she was still staring at me. "...You do realize you're not coming with, don't you?"
The horned wolf whined, faintly, as if she understood the words. Perhaps she did? I wasn't entirely sure how smart these monsters were. Regardless, it wasn't as if I could simply pick her up and carry her back to the tower with me.
...Or, well, I certainly could, but it surely wasn't in the wolf's best interest. "What would you even do in the tower?"
The horned wolf let out another little whine, wagging her tail and moving to stand next to me.
"It's not happening."
She let out a little bark and pressed her side against my thigh. Her fur was warm and soft, and my resolve began to waver. Taking the wolf with me would be a disaster; she wouldn't have nearly enough room to run or explore. I had no idea how much fresh meat she'd need, either - I might end up having to hunt, just to make up for her drain on our stores. And was I supposed to fly her back down to the ground floor every time she needed to use the bathroom?
The wolf nuzzled her head against my leg, licking my knee, and I let out a long, loud sigh.
"I really hope you're smart enough to be potty trained, or it's right back to the forest," I warned the wolf, bending down to slide my arms beneath her body and take her into my arms. She let out a little yelp of surprise, her paws scrabbling uselessly at the air for a moment, but she calmed down quickly once she realized that I had a firm grip on her.
"I think I'm going to call you Bailey," I decided, turning around. Once I'd done a quick check to the surroundings, to make sure there was no one else in the area, I sprouted my wings and took off.
It was late evening when I finally reached Dimona Tower. Around mealtime from the way my stomach was complaining. That was a shame since it meant that dinner plans were likely already set. My fries would have to wait until breakfast, but I was certain they'd be worth the wait. I'd have them served with cheese, and perhaps a nice gravy. Or maybe I could have the chefs whip up some form of tomato sauce. As much as it hurt to admit, I was unlikely to stumble upon a village that produced ketchup.
Of course, not all the potatoes were for me. I wanted the majority of them to be planted in the hope that they could become a new staple for my people. But it was important to lead by example. If I wanted my fellow demons to know potatoes were safe to eat - nay, delicious to consume! - then I obviously needed to take the lead in proving that they were edible.
I kept my thoughts on fries as I flew through the uppermost window of the tower and traversed the route to my bedroom. I forced my mind to dwell on the miracle of salted starch, as I hopped atop my wonderfully luxurious mattress and set Bailey down upon the sheets. I refused to let any other thoughts enter my mind as I laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
I had to keep my mind on fries. I had to. Otherwise, my mind would race with thoughts about how the tower had held up during my absence; whether they'd panicked at my disappearance or reveled in their temporary freedom from my selfish demands. Not to mention the conversation I'd promised to have with Abigail. What must she think of me, disappearing right after I'd promised her an honest conversation?
But I wasn't going to think about any of that. Not just yet, at least. No. I was going to think about fries. How they tasted, how they smelled. The faint crunch you might hear when your teeth broke through the crisp exterior of a freshly fried potato plank. I wasn't going to think about Abigail. Or our upcoming conversation. Or the fact that it would likely be our last.
No matter how much I valued Abigail's companionship, I knew I was little more than a burdensome employer to her. One who was obviously lying to her, and who disappeared for three days after she tried to confront them. I was being incredibly optimistic by hoping for a conversation at all; she might have already quit. She owed me nothing, after all. She barely knew me. No one did. I'd spent my entire life a spoiled brat that no one wanted to be around. And then I'd told myself that I was alone by choice and that my loneliness was somehow proof that I was special. That I was unique.
"What utter bullshit…" I whispered to myself, burying my face in a goose-down pillow. I knew the truth, now. I wasn't special. I was just a selfish brat. And a very lonely one at that.
"At least I have you, girl," I sighed, looking up from the pillow so that I could pet Bailey. Except Bailey was no longer by my side. She'd jumped off the bed, and was now sniffing at the door.
"Is someone there?" I inquired, swinging my legs off the bed and standing upright.
Bailey glanced at me, then turned her attention back to the door, letting out a low-pitched growl.
"Is someone in there?" called a familiar voice. "I thought I told everyone not to go in there! The queen went to the restroom, but she'll be back any moment! And she's been in a very temperamental mood, let me tell you - I would not want to see her right now if I were you."
"So good to know your feelings on the matter," I responded, dryly, reaching out to pull the door open. As expected, Abigail was on the other side. Less expected were the heavy bags under her eyes. "...What in the world happened to you?"
"...Devilla?" Abigail whispered, eyes widening in surprise. "You're back!?"
"And not a moment too soon from the looks of it. I know I was gone longer than expected, but what precisely happened while I was away?"
"Happened?" Abigail echoed. Then she let out a bitter laugh. "Nothing happened, Devilla!"
"It must have been a very strenuous nothing, then," I remarked, stepping out of the doorway so that Abigail could come inside. "Why don't you sit on the bed with me?"
"I don't want to sit on the bed with you, Devilla! I want to know where the hell you were! Do you have any idea what Mifa and I went through, trying to hide the fact that you were gone!? I've been on constant edge ever since you failed to come home!"
"Hide the fact that I was gone?" I echoed, surprised. "Was that really necessary?"
"Of course it was necessary!" Abigail screamed, storming past me and walking into the room. "The demon queen left for human lands, and never came back home. There would have been panic across the entire tower if word spread."
"I didn't think anyone would really miss me," I confessed, nervously running my fingers through my hair. I'd magicked out the dye during the journey, so it was back to its original white coloring. "I'm not exactly the most popular person in the tower, after all."
"It's not about popularity, Devilla! You're the demon queen! Our leader! Having your leader disappear is bad! Especially when she's your last line of defense against a genocidal so-called heroine!"
I opened my mouth, then closed it, not entirely sure what to say. I knew Lucy wasn't that bad, but my people didn't. Of coursethey'd worry if I disappeared.
"And why is there a wolf here!?" Abigail demanded, pointing an accusing finger toward Bailey. I expected the wolf to growl at Abigail, in response, but instead, she let out a low whine and laid flat against the floor. It seemed not even a monster was willing to cross an angry Abigail.
"That… Is something of a long story. As is the reason for my absence. I promise I'll explain everything to you, though."
"Like I haven't heard that before. I'm not giving you another chance to run away from me, Devilla. I want to know what's going on, and I want to know now. Or I'm quitting."
"...I… I want to tell you. But…"
"I'm tired of excuses," Abigail told me, slicing her hand through the air as if cutting through my halting explanation. "I want answers, Devilla. You've been different ever since you cast the Rite of Insight, and I want to know why."
"You won't like the answer," I warned Abigail. "I'm not sure you'll even believe it." Even a somewhat edited version of events would stretch incredulity, in my opinion. And even if she did believe it, there was no guarantee that she'd accept it. It didn't mean she'd accept me.
"If I don't like it, or I don't believe it, then I'll just quit. Or you can refuse to tell me, and I'll quit anyway. So it seems to me like there's not much difference."
There was, though. If I didn't tell Abigail, and she left, then she was leaving because of a decision I had made. I could comfort myself by saying it was the only choice I could have made. I could lie to myself and say that it was for the best, since in the end I'd be leaving her and everyone else behind regardless. Perhaps if I kept up the deceit long enough, I might one day forget that I never truly wanted to lose her at all.
If I told her the truth, however, and she left me anyway, there would be no hiding from reality. There would be no denying that the problem was with me.
"...Alright," I whispered, doing my best to meet Abigail's pupilless gaze with my own. "I'll tell you." I didn't want to lie to myself anymore. And I didn't want to lie to Abigail either.
I told her how I had messed up the Rite of Insight and gained memories of a past life when I lived in another world. I told her about Tower of Conquest, explaining video games as best I could. I even told her how I'd once been a human, though I neglected to mention that I'd been male. I identified fully as a woman now, so the information felt both mildly embarrassing and irrelevant.
When I was done, Abigail stared at me for a long moment before speaking. "...So you're saying we're all characters in a work of fiction that's somehow also a playable game?"
"Not quite," I denied, shaking my head. "I believe both worlds are connected, yes - but this world, and the people in it, are too real and complex to have sprung forth from a simple porn game."
"Okay. So. We're real. But people in your world know about us, and think we're fake? And… You… You're not Devilla, are you?" Abigail accused, jabbing a finger toward me.
"Don't be ridiculous!" I countered angrily. "Of course I'm Devilla. I didn't stop being myself simply because I gained some new memories."
"Then why did you change so much?" Abigail demanded. "How do I know that some human from another world isn't controlling you right now?"
"...I suppose you don't know," I admitted, reluctantly. "But I can at least try to explain why I changed so much."
Abigail only raised an eyebrow in response, clearly waiting for me to go on.
"...It's difficult to put into words," I confessed. "For my entire life, it felt like a piece of me was missing. Like there was this vital component that everyone else had, and that I didn't. I suppose you could call it empathy. The ability to look at other people's problems, and realize that they're as worthy as your own. That's certainly part of what I was missing, but more than that, it's… it's as if I didn't know how to be a person. And then suddenly I had all these memories of another life. Before, I didn't even know what sort of person I wanted to be, but now I just… was."
I sighed. "I suppose that makes little sense to you. But I promise you - I truly am the Devilla you know and hate."
It was always hard to tell where Abigail's gaze was, but at that moment I was fairly certain she was staring me in the eyes. I did my best not to break contact, staring resolutely at the center of her eyes and hoping for the best.
"...Fine. I believe you. So what's the plan for defeating Lucy?" she asked, at last.
"Plan?" I parroted back to her. "What plan? There is no plan. Weren't you listening? If we let things go as they're supposed to, the humans and the demons will be able to make peace."
"Yeah, but you'll be dead!" Abigail countered, putting her fists on her hips.
"Or enslaved," I added. "But I don't intend to be anywhere near here for that to happen. The day Lucy invades, right before she can reach me, I'll fly off faster than anyone can catch me."
"So you're just… going to run away?"
"What else am I supposed to do?" I asked her, sighing softly. "We might have enough manpower to fight their army - big might - but I don't want to kill a heroine who actually wants peace for my people. If there's a way forward where we all survive, then I want to take it."
"Then make it happen yourself!" Abigail insisted, glaring at me. "Don't just hope things play out like they did in some stupid game. Unite the tower under your rule, and make peace with the heroine on your own terms instead of making us all surrender!"
"How could I even do that?" I wanted to know, exasperated. "Perhaps I would have a chance with Lucy, but everyone in the tower hates me."
"Not everyone," Abigail informed me. "Not me. And I don't think Mifa exactly despises you either. So, hey, you've already got a good start."
"...You really think I can get everyone behind me to form an alliance? Within a year?"
"I don't know, but it wouldn't hurt to try," Abigail insisted. "...Do you really think you can get the heroine to broker peace with us?"
"I think so. I'll have to feel out the waters when I meet her next week…"
"Excuse me!?" Abigail all but screeched, stepping toward me. "What exactly happened while you were gone!?"
"...It seems we still have more to talk about," I said with a sigh. "But perhaps we could discuss the rest of this over dinner?"
From the exasperated look Abigail was giving me, I could already tell it was going to be a long evening.
I all but collapsed into bed after dinner was done, full but exhausted. Abigail had wrung me for every bit of info she could get during the meal. Every detail about the heroine, in particular. As if she were the one responsible for brokering peace. Then again, I couldn't really blame her for being interested. No demon had ever gotten to know a heroine before.
I'd gotten through it all, in any case. And now I could simply lay on the bed. There was only one thing missing, really, before I could tuck into sleep. "Bailey!" I called. "Get on the bed."
I didn't need to look up from my pillow to know the wolf had responded. I could feel the weight shift when she jumped aboard the mattress and padded over to me. Soon she was laying next to me, her body pressed lightly against mine, and I was drifting off to sleep.
I don't remember what I dreamed about. Something warm, I think. Involving flowers, perhaps. It didn't seem very important when I woke up. But then, little would have considering what I woke up to.
The horned wolf was gone. In her place, laying against my body, was a woman, about my own age. She was skinny and looked like she'd been chronically underfed. She had a bushy tail, pitch-black like the hair that ran down to her waist, and two furry ears sat upon her head. I'd never seen her before in my life, but I still knew exactly who she was.
I could tell thanks to the blood-red horn protruding from her forehead.
"Bailey…?"
This is the chapter my friend FallingLeaf began proofreading things. My current editor came onboard as of chapter 8, so things get smoother from there.
Abigail's back~! And in a big way. Also Bailey!
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
Ah, so there's some sort of human-shape transformation magic that happens either in her sleep or on the tower itself to make "monsters" into "demons". Or the naming thing like in Tensura, but that doesn't human-morph the named.
I stared at the horned wolf girl in my bed, hardly able to believe what I was seeing. My mind was reeling with the implications - had the wolves I fought actually been demons?
…No, I was sure they weren't. While therewerevarieties of demons who could transform, they always reverted to humanoid form after death. In fact, I was willing to bet that sleep was what undid Bailey's transformation.
But why hadn't she transformed earlier? Why hadn't she even tried to communicate her true nature? And what was a demon doing in the outside world, living among a pack of monsters?
I had endless questions, and only one recourse if I wished to find my answers. I reached out to grip Bailey's shoulder, gently shaking the wolf girl awake.
"Bailey?" I called out. "Or… I suppose that wouldn't be your real name, would it?"
Bailey stirred with my touch, blinking the sleep from her dark brown eyes as she woke. When she saw me sitting next to her she went rigid for a moment, then let out a loud yelp and scrambled across the mattress on her hands and knees. Before I even had time to react she pressed herself flat against the floor as if supplicating herself before me.
I lifted my hand toward Bailey, then let it drop when she whimpered. "Bailey…" I knew that wasn't her real name, but I couldn't bring myself to refer to her as 'wolf girl' or some such. "I'm not going to harm you. I thought you'd realized that by now."
Bailey didn't respond to my words verbally, but some of the fear seemed to leave her features as I spoke. She lifted her head up from the ground and looked into my eyes. I got the feeling that she was searching for something, though I couldn't say what. Whatever she found seemed to make her happy, as her drooping tail shifted into an energetic wag.
"Bailey," I began again, moving toward the foot of the bed. "I need you to talk to me. What were you doing in the outside world? Why were you among those wolves?" I stood, walking around the bed to reach Bailey and crouch beside her. Reaching out, I took one of her hands in mine and looked her directly in the eye. "Who are you, Bailey?"
Bailey responded by licking my nose.
I pulled away from Bailey in my surprise, falling backward and catching the floor with my hands. Bailey watched me, her mouth hanging open, a surprisingly large tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. There was a look of amusement in her eyes, but she didn't laugh or smile. She just watched me.
"...You don't know how to talk, do you?" I accused, pushing myself back onto my toes and into a kneeling position. "Just how long were you living among those wolves? Your whole life?"
Bailey stared at me blankly, not giving away anything, but the gears kept turning in my head. Bailey, a demon, had been living among monsters. Members of her own base species no less. Was that why they had taken her in? But then how had she ended up with them to begin with? Where were her parents? Was there a chance they were in the tower?
I didn't think so. I didn't think we had any horned wolf girls in the tower, actually. I'd never even heard of the species before, but I couldn't be sure. It wasn't as if I'd memorized every type of demon, after all. Even if I had perhaps been supposed to.
"I'm going to have to make an appointment with her, aren't I?" I muttered to myself, grimacing. Well, I would have had to meet with her eventually anyhow, if I wanted to introduce potatoes to my people's diet. Nothing major happened in the tower without Sylvanna's input, after all.
Perhaps sensing my apprehension, Bailey leaned forward and gave my face another lick.
"That was cuter when I thought you were just a wolf," I grumbled. Despite my words, I couldn't help the faint smile that crept across my lips. Bailey responded by licking my cheek yet again, wagging her tail all the while.
"Alright, alright, already," I groused, choosing to rise before she could give a repeat performance. Bailey tried to copy me, to my surprise. She managed to get all the way upright, but her legs began to wobble unsteadily. I grabbed hold of her shoulders, pulling her against myself before she could fall.
It was pure misfortune that Abigail chose that moment to open the door.
"...Devilla?"
"I can explain," I promised. "Or… Well no, I can't really explain it. But there's a very good reason that I'm holding this naked woman upright."
"I don't need excuses, Devilla," Abigail replied, rolling her eyes. "I don't care who you're having sex with. But maybe leave a message with one of the other maids if you're having an overnight guest? I could have walked in on something really awkward."
"That's not what's going on!" My protest was somewhat undercut, however, by Bailey choosing that moment to lick at my earlobe.
"I'll just leave you to it," Abigail said, not bothering to hide her amused smile as she turned toward the door.
"By the Goddess, Abigail, I'm telling you it's not what you think! This is Bailey. The horned wolf I brought home yesterday. Remember?"
"The…" Abigail turned back around, her pitch-black eyes wide open. "Holy hell, Devilla, what did you do to turn a monster into a demon!?"
"I did nothing of the sort!" I protested. "She transformed all on her own. I can only imagine that she's a demon who got separated from her parents and taken in by a pack of true horned wolves."
"That's impossible," Abigail countered. "Monsters hate their demon counterparts."
"But shewaswith a pack," I insisted. Although come to think of it, they had treated her rather cruelly. Was that why she'd hidden her humanoid form from me? Because she thought I would treat her as they had? That still left the question of why she'd risked me seeing her in this form. Sleeping next to me had been an unnecessary risk, surely. Had she simply been that desperate for contact? Or did it have something to do with me being humanoid too? I wished desperately that Bailey could just talk to me.
"And then there's problem two," Abigail continued, shifting her gaze from me to Bailey. "Devilla, I've never heard of a horned wolf girl before."
"...Neither have I." I turned my attention to the girl in my arms. She looked up at me in turn, her eyes wide and innocent. It was hard to believe she'd kept the company of wild animals until just recently. "I thought perhaps it was simply a gap in my education… Yet if there's no such thing as a horned wolf girl, how in the world did we end up with one? And how didsheend up running with a pack of monsters?"
Bailey let out a soft whimpered, pressing her hand lightly against my chest. Her eyes seemed to be pleading with me for… something.
"I don't know what you want," I complained, "I don't speak wolf. And you don't speak Sollanian."
"I think she wants down," Abigail translated, pointing to Bailey's legs. They were shaking fiercely, making it obvious that only my grip on her shoulders was keeping her upright.
"Ah. Sorry Bailey," I apologized, lowering her carefully to the ground. Bailey immediately moved to crouch beside me, knees spread wide and hands pressed into the floor in front of her. Her mouth was open once more, and her tongue was again sticking from her mouth. Her tail was wagging happily behind her, showing off clear excitement.
"Horned wolves are pack creatures, right?" Abigail asked me, crouching down in front of Bailey to take a closer look at her.
The wolf girl snarled in response to Abigail's attention, pulling her lips back and baring her teeth.
"Stop that," I commanded in the firmest tone I could manage. I worried that making demands would simply make me sound like a spoiled brat, but Bailey at least seemed to respond to it. She stopped growling and turned her head toward me.
"Yes, they're pack monsters," I confirmed, once I was certain Bailey was through with growling. "What of it?"
"Well, I don't know if it's the case with horned wolf girls, but a lot of the pack-type demons can communicate telepathically. If Bailey has something like that, then maybe you can tap into it and ask her some questions?"
"That's possible?" I asked, surprised. I knew of pack-based telepathy, but I had always viewed it as a closed system.
"I've done it before," Abigail informed me. "Back when I was dating a werewolf. It took a lot of magic, so I could only maintain it for a few seconds, but something tells me that won't be a problem for you."
"If all it takes is power, then no, it shouldn't be an issue…" I agreed, looking down at Bailey. She tilted her head to match my gaze. Was it really possible to know what laid on the other side of those brown eyes?
"It also takes trust," Abigail continued "But I think it's safe to say she trusts you. A lot more than she does me, anyway."
"I'm not entirely sure why," I admitted, with a shake of my head. "I killed the rest of her pack, and almost took her life as well. She has every reason to hate me, yet she went so far as to put herself in harm's way when she thought I was endangered..."
"Maybe you're just not as hateable as you think you are," Abigail suggested. "I mean, compared to how you were before, you're as sweet as a sugar bun."
"Your attempt to cheer me up is appreciated, but I've already decided to stop lying to myself." My lips formed a smile, but I doubt it reached my eyes. "I'm nothing more than a spoiled princess, turned queen. There's certainly nothing about me that could inspire such loyalty as she's shown."
"Okay, there's a lot I want to say to that, but let's start with you constantly assuming you know how people feel! You just take it for granted that we all hate you, and that we always will."
"It's hardly an assumption," I protested, trying not to flinch under the force of Abigail's glare. "Even before I gained memories of my last life, I knew how my people viewed me. I simply didn't care."
"But you're different now," Abigail insisted, "if you let people get to know you as you are now, things can change."
"...It's a tempting thought," I confessed, with a sad shake of my head. "But it's impossible. The way I acted, the things I did - the things I failed to do, as your ruler… None of it goes away just because I've changed. What's done is done, and nothing I do will ever wipe it away."
"You don't need to erase the past to make room for your future, Devilla. And even if you did, even if everything you've said so far was true, none of it has a damn thing to do with Bailey. She never knew the old you."
"No," I conceded, turning my attention back to Bailey. She had hardly moved during the conversation, only moving her head back and forth to follow our voices. "Bailey doesn't know who I used to be. She only knows me as I am - as the one who killed her family. I don't understand how she could like me, anyways."
"Then ask her." Abigail's voice was soft, to the point where it would have been inaudible to anyone but me. Yet still, I could hear the note of desperation in her voice. And the exasperation, too. "Stop saying you know how everyone feels and ask."
I stared at Abigail for a long moment, before again shifting my gaze to Bailey. Kneeling down beside the horned wolf girl, I looked her squarely in the eyes. Perhaps sensing the seriousness in my gaze, Bailey chose not to lick me for once.
"I'm going to try and communicate with you now," I declared. It felt a little ridiculous speaking out loud when the whole reason for this was that Bailey and I couldn't understand one another. Still, it somehow felt proper to express my intent. It was the least I could do before forcing my way into a bond meant only for her pack. Bailey's only response was to tilt her head to one side.
"How do I do this?" I asked Abigail. I kept my eyes on Bailey as I spoke, wanting to establish as much of a connection as possible. It seemed to be the right choice, as Bailey's tail began to wag from the attention.
"How do you… Devilla, how do you not know how to do this?" Abigail demanded. When I turned my attention to her, she had her hands on her hips and a judgemental look in her eyes. Or at least I thought it was judgemental? The pure black eyes made it difficult to tell, as always, but I was certainly feeling judged beneath her gaze.
"I didn't pay much attention to my lessons," I admitted, a little embarrassed. "I always thought the Rite of Insight would teach me everything I needed to know…"
"Did you skip out on learning how to use your brain, too?" Abigail chastized, exasperated. I couldn't be sure, but I thought she might even be rolling her eyes at me.
"If you're quite done poking fun at the holes in my knowledge, I'd very much appreciate an actual answer," I grumbled. Honestly, I had no one but myself to blame for these gaps, and I knew it, but that didn't mean that I wanted to have them rubbed in my face.
"Fine, fine. I guess it makes sense you haven't really devoted much thought to it, considering how little sex you've had - but you actually don't need to sleep with someone to use their abilities. Swallowing a hair or two will work just as well as sexual fluids."
I stared at Abigail, mouth ajar and eyes wide. I lifted a finger, then let it drop limply to my side. "Sorry," I murmured. "Can we start that over from the top? I think I'm missing something crucial...."
"Let me guess - you've never actually used sex to copy someone's abilities before?" Abigail gave me a smile. I think it was meant to be reassuring, but it seemed more amused than anything. "I'm surprised you didn't try it right after we slept together. It's pretty much the same as potions. Except instead of taking in bits of magical plants, or monsters, you're swallowing part of a demon and channeling your magic throughthat."
"That's… Good to know, but not quite what I was asking…"
"Then what? Don't tell me you've never used a potion, either?"
"I haven't, actually," I admitted. "But again, not the issue at hand."
Potions had never held much interest for me, but I at least knew what they were and how they worked. By turning magical plants or monster parts into something consumable, one could temporarily access the natural abilities of a magical organism. Collectively known as 'Wild Magic', these abilities straddled the line between divine and arcane magic, accomplishing things that shouldn't be possible despite using the same magical energy that went into spells. Each species of demon sported at least one form of wild magic, and they could range considerably in power, effect, and usefulness. My own wing sprouting technique fell into this category, as did Bailey's theoretical telepathy.
Unfortunately, even if you consumed a potion you still needed to provide your own magical energy to make the wild magic work. Not only that, but when compared to those who could natively use the ability, utilizing a potion required almost three times as much magical energy for less than a fifth of the effect. It was rarely worth the effort. Lucy hadn't even bothered with them inTower Conquest. But there was something about the whole thing that bothered me.
Namely, that no one had ever told me demon parts worked the same way.
"Abigail. Are you telling me I can copy someone's wild magic if I eat them out?"
This time it was Abigail's turn to stare slack-jawed. Her mouth opened and closed several times, before she let out a strangled noise and started clutching the sides of her head. "Are you seriously telling me that nobody ever gave you the sex talk!?"
"Not in this lifetime, no… Actually, my tutors didn't cover anything sexual at all." I could only imagine that those conversations were generally left to the parents, of which I had none growing up. "So, quick question, if you will - what precisely would happen if someone ate me out?"Say, someone like the heroine?
"Nothing."
I stared at Abigail in surprise, then cocked my head curiously to the side. "Nothing?"
"Nothing," she repeated, with a firm nod. "Demon Queens are fallen angels, right? Divine beings? You can use our powers, but yours are totally beyond us."
"I see…" I murmured. Divine beings. I'd been quite attached to that description, once upon a time. But now that I knew my soul had started off in a mortal body, the whole thing felt a bit pretentious.
Still, if it meant Lucy wasn't going to unlock any new abilities from sex with me, it was probably for the best.
"Well. New discoveries aside, I'm glad to have a way to converse with Bailey," I declared, glancing down at the horned wolf girl. She looked up at me, dark eyes wide, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. I chuckled, then reached out to grab a couple strands of her hair. I didn't pull them out but used a tightly compressed blade of air to slice through the strands.
"...This is most definitely going to get caught in my throat, isn't it?" I complained, staring at the hairs clinging to my fingers. I could understand why most people took the time to turn ingredients into potions, now, but I didn't want to keep Bailey waiting. So I balled the hairs up, pulled a tiny bit of water from the atmosphere, and inserted the hairs into the center of it. Then I shaped the water into a small marble, with the knot of hair in the center, and froze it. With that, I only had to pop the ice into my mouth and swallow.
"...Did it work?" Abigail asked after a moment, staring at me intently.
"I'm not sure yet..." Since I'd never done this before, I wasn't sure what to expect. Would it come to me as a sudden instinct? Would I feel some strange sensation? After a minute passed without any noticeable signs, I started to worry. "Perhaps I'm doing something wrong…"
"It's a little hard to get right the first time," Abigail explained. "Try closing your eyes and feeling for something inside you that doesn't belong."
I shut my eyes as instructed, though I felt a little silly doing it. Searching inside me for something that didn't belong? I wasn't even sure what that meant. After a moment's thought, I decided to reach for the magic circulating within me.
I felt the warmth of my power, a pleasant current that was constantly running just beneath the surface. It was a stream that ran through my entire being, and by connecting to it I became intimately aware of every cell within my body. Including something that most definitely did not belong.
It's hard to explain exactly what I felt; it was like there was something embedded within my being. It wasn't anything unpleasant. It was warm, like my own magic, and if I wasn't looking for it I likely wouldn't have found it at all. It was akin to finding a grain of sand embedded within a diamond. It was ultimately a bit of rock, made of the same base element as the gem surrounding it, but it was most definitely not the same as what encompassed it.
"I think I've got it," I declared, grinning. "Though there's actually two of them. What do I do now?"
"She must have two abilities," Abigail explained. "Hopefully one of them's telepathy, but the only real way to find out is to run your magic through it. She'll probably sound pretty distant if it works - my ex always did."
"Understood." I did as Abigail instructed, channeling my magic through one of the new foreign imprints I had found within me. As the arcane energy flowed through me, it took on an unfamiliar shape; A form of wild magic that I never would have been able to cast before. It was a little thrilling.
There was something about the process I found peculiar, though. When I'd consumed Bailey's hairs, I'd more or less absorbed a tiny bit of her essence. I understood now that running my magic power through her essence, instead of my own, was what would allow me to duplicate the effects of her wild magic, at least to a limited degree. But the strange thing was, the essence itself was not arcane, or even mortal in nature. It was actually divine.
Of course, that isn't to say that it was holy magic. In the mortal realm, only the heroine and I could wield that, and even then, the heroine could only channel it, requiring an angel to actually generate it. The heroine simply used what my aunts in heaven provided.
So what was it that I was feeling? It was almost like a great power had passed through the core of Bailey's being, leaving an indelible mark in its wake.
Was that why wild magic could do what normal spells could not, despite using the same base energy? Was it really just arcane magic, shaped and empowered by this divine residue? And if so, was it perhaps possible to use the holy magic within me in order to achieve the same effect? I couldn't channel holy magic into the world without knowing the right words, but perhaps if I used it internally,I could convert my arcane energies into wild magic.
I wanted to experiment, but not with Bailey. This was magic to connect our minds, after all; if I tried homebrewing it, there was no telling what the effects might be. I'd have to experiment with potions at a later date.
For now, I pulled back on my magic and channeled it through the second node I'd discovered. Although it worked much the same way, it gave me a very different result. It wasn't just the shape of the magic that formed, but the feeling that it gave off. The first time I'd done this, it had felt warm and soft. This time it felt destructive. Perhaps this was the power found within her horn? I'd have to test it out later. For now, I channeled more of my magic through the first imprint, allowing a tendril of my power to slip out into the world.
"Now what?"
"Just press your magic against her head. If she lets you in, you'll know."
I nodded, doing as Abigail said. When I pressed my magic against Bailey's skull, I felt something pressing back; Another magic, probing mine. I didn't probe back, instead choosing to wait. After a moment, I felt a faint spark of energy running through my tendril of power.
Bailey?I thought, as loudly as I could. Can you hear me?
The response was almost instantaneous. I wasn't sure what Abigail meant about her being distant, as the signal I received was loud and clear. It wasn't actual words that flowed into my mind, though. It was a mix of sensations, emotions, and raw concepts. I felt her joy at being able to communicate with me and her desire for more head pats. I could also sense a deep wish to serve me.
Why? I asked, trying to convey the feelings of 'curiosity' and 'uncertainty'.
The response I got confused me, at first. Even after I managed to parse through the flood of images, feelings, and concepts, I wasn't sure how to respond. Bailey's image of me was simply too bizarre.
She saw me as strong. That much was true. She saw me as a leader - not technically incorrect. But she also saw me as being of mercy and kindness, at least if I was interpreting her messages right. Her "word" for mercy was a gentle, soothing sensation that chased away the pain, while kindness was conveyed through the pleasent sensations of a hand running through one's hair.
I took out your whole pack. I sent her images of the battlefield, and all that I had done.
But according to her, it was her pack's fault for attacking someone as strong as me. It was only natural, in her mind, that they had all been wiped out. A mistake on their part, nothing more, but in the wild a mistake was all it took to end a life. The fact that I'd spared even one of them showed my mercy. On top of that, I had taken the time to heal and wash her. She wanted to serve the strong leader who'd shown her such kindness.
How did you even get in that state, anyway?
Bailey whimpered faintly in response, and I could feel her hesitation. When I pressed though, she gave me her reluctant answer.
Apparently, the other wolves hadn't liked her very much. In fact, they'd abused her pretty heavily. They nipped at her whenever she took human form, forcing her to stay as a wolf. They wouldn't let her sleep with them, because she always changed in her slumber. They gave her only the barest scraps of food to eat, keeping her weak and dependant on the pack.
If they hated you so much, why did they even keep you around? The thought flashed through my mind, too quick to stop. I paled when I realized what I'd just transmitted, but Bailey didn't seem to mind. She simply responded with an image of an older wolf.
Who is that?
That elicited a stream of heavy emotions. Love, anger, sadness, and grief. Then came a stream of images, memories. A baby wolf, drinking from her mother's teat. That same wolf, older now, hiding behind her mother's legs as she growled at their leader. The mother sleeping with the leader, and bearing more children. The loss of that mother to the stress of birthing.
Without a word, I wrapped my arms around Bailey and pressed her head against my chest. She stiffened in surprise for a moment, but then leaned into the hug.
Perhaps it was for the best that Bailey's mother left this world before I took on the pack, but it was clear that Bailey still grieved her loss. It was a feeling I knew all too well.
But there was still one question I absolutely had to ask.
"Your mother… wasn't like us, was she?" I asked, speaking out loud for Abigail's benefit even as I conveyed the question to Bailey through our mental link. "She was a normal horned wolf?"
Abigail, gasped but I ignored her. My focus was entirely on Bailey. If my suspicions were true, it certainly answered my original question. She was with the horned wolves because she'd been born among them. But then there was the question of how? No demon had been born to a monster since ancient times. Since there weren't any written records of it, the very concept was still nothing more than a theory.
"Nor… mal…" Bailey whispered.
My eyes went wide. Not at the agreement, which was coming in clearly through our mental link, but at the word. It was likely the first such utterance Bailey had ever made. Her very first word. And from what I could sense, the wary look in her eyes was her trying to gauge my reaction.
"That's right," I confirmed, giving Bailey a gentle squeeze of encouragement. I smiled too, though I was careful not to show my teeth. I could only imagine that she'd interpret it as a wolf might: a sign of aggression. "Normal. Is that your first word?"
"Normal…" Bailey repeated, with increasing eagerness. "Normal. Normal! Normal!"
"Wait," Abigail interjected, kneeling down beside me and Bailey. The wolf girl glowered at Abigail for the interruption, but I stroked Bailey's hair encouraging her to calm down. "Was that a yes? Her mother was really a monster?"
"It would seem so," I affirmed. "It's quite the discovery if you think about it. Though I do wonder how it came about…" I shook my head, dismissing the thought. There were certainly demons who would love to study Bailey, but I had no intention of putting her through such scrutiny. Perhaps once she was able to speak for herself, and could establish proper boundaries, I would ask her if she'd mind an examination. For now, it would just have to remain an enigma.
"Oh, well. I suppose it's enough for now that we've settled the mystery. Who's hungry for breakfast?"
Abigail stared at me, mouth slightly open, black eyes wide with disbelief. "You want to eat breakfast? You just proved the origin of your people, and all you want to do iseat?"
"Unless you have a better idea, yes." I released Bailey as I spoke, standing upright. "I suppose I'll have Bailey shift back into wolf form for now. I'm really not looking forward to explaining the necessity of clothes to her…"
A thought on the subject was all it took. Instantly, fur began to sprout across Bailey's flesh, and her body started to shift. Her mouth pressed out into a snout, her chest turned broad and cylindrical, while her legs began to shrink inward and her fingers and toes melted into paws. Within moments I was staring not at a naked girl, but at a horned wolf.
"Aren't you at least going to tell someone?" Abigail demanded.
"I suppose I can tell Sylvanna when next we meet. Though I'm hoping to put that off for a while, now that I don't have to ask after the possibility of a horned wolf population in the tower…"
"Ah…" Abigail tensed with those words, letting slip a small noise before rapidly covering her mouth with a hand and turning her head away from me.
"...Abigail. Please tell me that reaction doesn't mean what I think it does."
"Well…" Abigail hesitated, before reluctantly turning her eyes toward mine. "Remember how I said Mifa and I were running around like crazy, trying to keep anyone from realizing you were gone?"
"I vaguely recall something of that nature, yes," I pushed aside the twinge of guilt I felt at that. I didn't expect to be gone so long, and I really hadn't thought it would be that big a deal. I'd have to be more careful on future excursions.
"Well, there miiiiight have been one person who figured it out," Abigail confessed. "By which I mean that there was definitely someone who figured it out."
"Sylvanna." I pressed my fingertips against my forehead, sighing loudly. I had never actually experienced a headache in this lifetime. I was fairly certain I was immune to such ailments in my current body, but today it seemed I'd be putting that to the test.
"She said she wanted to meet you as soon as you got back," Abigail continued "I put it off last night, considering… Well, everything. But if we don't go meet her soon, she'll probably force the issue."
"Fine. I'll go meet with her - after breakfast." Abigail opened her mouth to protest, but I raised a hand to stop her. "There's a dish from my past life that I've been dying to recreate, and I refuse to put it off a minute longer. Sylvanna can wait an hour, surely."
"She's not going to like it," Abigail warned me, shaking her head.
"Then we can both be unhappy about the meeting. Just like always." I walked past Abigail as I spoke, heading toward my closet. I knew that I was being contrary, irresponsible, and spoiled. It was obvious that I needed to meet Sylvanna as soon as possible. But I honestly didn't appreciate the way Sylvanna always talked down to me, and I had no intention of dealing with it on an empty stomach.
I heard Abigail sighing as I opened the closet door, but she still followed after me, helping me strip off clothes I'd been wearing for far too long. I desperately wanted a bath actually, but my stomach was demanding attention first. So I simply used a little magic to dispel all the dirt on me.
After that, I wasted no time heading out of the room. Bailey bounded forward, too, taking her place beside me even as I walked down the hall. Usually, I'd be headed to Abigail's house at that point. Her mother's kitchen was well stocked, and it was of a decent size. More than adequate for my cooking lessons. Fries took a lot of oil though, and I didn't wish to waste theirs. And I wanted a nice, thick tomato sauce besides. As such, it was in the royal kitchen that I would be making, and tasting, my fries.
And thus the secret of where Monster Girls come from is revealed! ...Sort of! It's more like "evidence has been found which strengthens the arguments for a current theory." I intend to build upon this in the future, though.
This chapter's a little on the short side, as you may have noticed. ...Well, short in comparison to most Demon Queened chapters, anyway. I was trying to experiment with doing smaller but more frequent updates. It didn't really work out. I know there are quite a few people out there who prefer bite-sized chapters and just as many writers who prefer making them that way. I also know that short but frequent updates is a great way for a story to build traction, at least when it's being published online. But I just can't seem to bring myself to write Demon Queened that way. I end the chapters where it feels right to do so, as a rule. And while there are several chapters with multiple scenes, which I could theoretically split in two... Well, I just prefer having a semi-consistent length, I guess? *Shrugs*
Anyway, this chapter marks the first of those edited by paradoxicalWitchling. She remains my editor to this day! I sent her chapter 13.5 a couple days ago, in fact - it's an Abigail-centric interlude that I'm hoping to publically release on 5/15~
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
I woke up early today, fully intending to reach the cooks before they started my breakfast. Unfortunately, I achieved my goal a little too well. I wasn't entirely sure what the time was, without a clock or a window, but when one considered my habit of sleeping till near noon… Perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise to find that the majority of the kitchen staff hadn't bothered to come in yet.
In fact, there was only a singular figure in the kitchen. She was perhaps a little on the small side, standing at about five foot three. She had long orange hair that ran all the way down to her mid-back and golden horns that rose from the sides of her head before sweeping backward. She wore a simple gray halter top, backless to allow for the leathery red wings that were folded against her body, and a black skirt, with a white apron over top. A thick red tail protruded from the bottom of her skirt, long enough to trail along the floor behind her as she walked. Red scales were scattered here and there across her dusky skin, concentrated especially about her elbows and knees. At first glance she seemed to have a small dusting of freckles curving around the bridge of her nose, but on closer inspection it was actually another spattering of tiny scales.
She was a dragon girl, a species I associated with pride and wealth. And she was currently sweeping the kitchen floor.
"Excuse me," I called out, rapping my knuckles against the doorframe. "Do you work here?"
The dragon girl let out a little squeak at the sound of my voice and nearly dropped her broom. I watched as she frantically grabbed at the wooden pole, pulling it against her chest before turning her attention to me.
If my voice had been a surprise, it seemed my appearance was a shock. She let out another squeak, this time gripping the broom so tight that her knuckles turned white. She stared at me for several seconds, red eyes wide with fright.
"Is everything alright?" I asked, giving her the most gentle smile I could muster. I didn't really feel like smiling at all, after seeing the reaction my appearance elicited, but considering her behavior thus far, I was legitimately worried that a frown might cause her to faint.
"Qu-Queen Devilla," she stammered out. She started to curtsy, then stopped when she realized she still had the broom in her hands, which made the gesture awkward. "I… ah…"
"It's fine," I assured her. Although I was a little hurt by her reaction to me, I tried to inject a little amusement into my voice. "We can forget the formalities, this once."
"Th-Thank you, Queen Devilla…" She bowed stiffly, still clutching the broom for dear life. "T-To what do I owe the p-pleasure of your visit today?"
It was a struggle not to make a retort, considering how little pleasure my visit seemed to be bringing her. Instead, I forced myself to keep smiling. "I'm afraid we need to borrow the kitchen. There's something special I intend to cook."
"I can wake the head chef," the dragon girl offered. Her words were growing noticeably smoother as we talked, the stutter fading away bit by bit. Despite that, I couldn't help but notice that her eyes were directed slightly to my right, fixating on a part of the doorframe. She couldn't even look directly at me.
"That won't be necessary," I informed her, shaking my head. "The recipe I intend to cook is not known to her."
"Miss Nola is very knowledgeable," the girl insisted. "I'm sure if you described what you wanted, she'd be able to make it."
My smile faded, lips pressing into a thin line. I made the effort not to frown, but I still saw the girl's shoulders stiffen.
"...Perhaps we should start over," I suggested, placing my right hand on my chest. "My name is Devilla Satanne. And you are?" I smiled brightly while trying desperately to hide my burgeoning annoyance. I was clearly a terrifying presence for this girl, and I didn't wish to make it worse.
"Lenora Dors," the dragon girl responded, bowing again. Her grip on the broom, which had been slowly relaxing over the course of our talk, tightened again as she introduced herself. I was honestly surprised that she hadn't snapped the handle in half by this point.
"Dors?" Abigail called out from behind me. Before I could even vacate the doorframe, she was squeezing past me and into the room. "As in the Dors family? The ones who have stores on nearly half the floors?"
Lenora flinched at the onslaught of questions, and she took a step backward in order to press herself against the wall, quietly nodding her head when Abigail was finished.
"Th-That's right," Lenora confirmed, her stutter back in force now that she had Abigail to contend with as well. "B-But that's my p-parents. I-I'm just an apprentice chef…"
"And I'm sure you're a wonderful apprentice chef, at that," I interrupted, taking the opportunity to walk further into the kitchen. Lenora looked as if she wanted to distance herself, but with her back already pressed against the wall, there was really nowhere for her to go. Again, her eyes refused to meet mine. This time I couldn't exactly blame her, though, as her gaze was locked on Bailey, who had followed me into the room.
"She won't bite," I promised. At least, I didn't think she would. To be on the safe side, I opened my mental link with Bailey again and made that an actual order.
"B-But she's a monster!" Lenora protested, pointing an accusatory finger at Bailey.
"Her name is Bailey. She's a demon, I assure you, and under my control, besides." I didn't like talking about Bailey like that, but her understanding of the world truly was that of a wild beast. Since I didn't know what she might do without me present, I couldn't blame Lenora for needing reassurance.
Bailey didn't seem to care, at least. She simply sat down beside me, tongue lolling out. Wild or not, she was definitely adorable.
"She's a d-demon?" Lenora asked. I could hear the doubt in her voice but chose to ignore it. I knew how dubious my claim sounded, true as it was.
"She's a demon. Just like you're an apprentice chef. And as an apprentice chef, you know where all the ingredients are, yes? Including the oil?"
"Y-Yes!" Lenora confirmed, nodding rapidly, before suddenly freezing in place. "W-Wait. You're really going to cook something?"
"I said so, did I not?"
The shock in her eyes felt mildly insulting, though I understood her reservations. A week ago, I hadn't even known how to cook, but I'd worked hard and now could make porridge, bacon, sausage, and even eggs. Today I was determined to add fries to that list.
"The ingredients?" I prompted again when Lenora showed no sign of moving.
"R-Right!" Lenora glanced frantically from side to side for a moment, as if looking for something, and then focused her gaze back on me. "Um. What did you need again?"
"Oil." I tried to be gentle with my response, but perhaps I was a touch too terse in my annoyance. Lenora let out a small squeak before nodding her head fervently.
"R-Right! The oil is over here," she said, putting the broom down, then moving over to a cupboard. I caught a glimpse of numerous glass bottles inside it, mostly filled with dried herbs and spices. One, which looked to be half again as large as the others, was filled to the brim with yellow liquid. It was this bottle that Lenora brought me.
"Is this all the oil you have at present?" I asked her, a little disappointed. Itwaslarger than the other bottles, but it was still only a liter of liquid at most.
"Y-yes, your majesty," Lenora confirmed. "I can requisition more if you'd like? But it takes a while…"
"Then there is more?" I asked, my excitement building. She nodded, and a smile splayed across my lips. If she could get more, then I didn't need to worry about using what the kitchen already had. I could use all the oil I wanted!
"I require a pot, and a metal strainer that can fit within it," I informed her. "As well as a knife, a cutting board, and an empty jar."
"R-Right away, Queen Devilla!"
To say Lenora moved quickly would be a vast understatement. She practically ran, going from one cupboard to another as she grabbed everything she needed. She put the jar and knife into the strainer, and the strainer into the pot, and then carried them all over using the cutting board as a tray.
I took the load and headed to the counter, taking everything off the cutting board. While there wasn't exactly a sink, therewasa basin built into the counter, complete with a drain and a lump of soap. I pulled some water from the air and used it to wash my hands, before reaching into the seemingly empty bag at my side and pulling out several potatoes.
My recipe for fries was fairly simple. First I pulled some more water from the air, forming a ball of it above the basin. Then I thrust one potato after another into the conjured water, agitating the liquid in order to forcefully scrub all dirt from the spuds. Once that was done, I placed my potatoes on the cutting board and cut them into planks. I'm proud to say I managed my strength fairly well throughout, despite my excitement. The wooden cutting board was only barely nicked during the process, and the knife's iron handle wasn't mangled at all.
"What are those?"
The voice caught me off guard, and I jumped a few feet backward in surprise, almost bumping into Abigail.
"S-sorry," Lenora murmured, ducking into a curtsy. The moment that was done, she pointed a finger at the cut planks. "What are they, though?"
"Potatoes. They're a foreign vegetable I learned about through the Rite of Insight." The explanation was apparently enough for Lenora, who went wide-eyed at the thought. From the look on Abigail's face, I thought she might be rolling her eyes at me, but I magnanimously chose to ignore it.
"Would you like to watch my process?" I asked with another gentle smile. "I imagine I'll be asking for this dish quite a bit, so having someone who can cook it would be beneficial to me."
"Really? I can?" Lenora's eyes were alight with excitement, and her lips were pulled into a grin of such pure joy you'd think that I had offered her the world itself upon a golden platter.
"You'd be doing me a favor," I assured her, walking closer to both her and the cutting board. Her red eyes were filled with fear, but she stayed right where she was as I reached into my bag. This time I pulled out a handful of white crystals, which I sprinkled upon the potatoes.
"Is that salt!?" Lenora demanded. Her thick tail thumped against the floor in excitement, and she actually went so far as to reach out and touch a stray crystal, before snatching her hand back.
I couldn't hold back an amused laugh.
"You don't have to laugh…" Lenora complained. She looked a step away from tears. "I… I was just curious…"
"Apologies," I said, lifting my hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I was simply caught off guard by your excitement. Yes, it is indeed salt. Would you like some?"
"Wh-what? I can really have some?" Lenora's tears evaporated as quickly as they'd come. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, and it took all my willpower not to let out another laugh. It seemed Lenora's moods were quick to shift. Even though she still seemed tense, it didn't seem like she was going to run away from me so long as food was involved. Was this what you'd call "Passion?"
"You can indeed have some," I promised her, reaching into the pot and pulling out the jar I'd asked for earlier. Narrow enough at its base for me to fit it in my palm, the glass cylinder was about a foot tall, and was topped with a glass lid. I seemed to recall that glasswork in the middle ages was rife with imperfections, but I could see none in the jar. Perhaps magic had aided in the crafting of it? Regardless, it made a fine receptacle for salt, and I turned my bag upside down over it, allowing the white crystals to pour into the jar.
"This is for the kitchen," I explained, offering the newly full bottle to Lenora. "If you'd be so kind as to fetch me something smaller, I'd be happy to grant you your own supply."
Lenora did not move for several seconds, instead staring slack-jawed at the jar. It took a gentle cough from me to get her started again, and even then her movements were quite stiff as she took hold of the salt and robotically carried it back to the pantry.
"Are you trying to give the girl a heart attack?" Abigail hissed, sidling up next to me while Lenora was distracted.
"I do not see the problem," I protested, frowning. "It was always my intent to reintroduce salt to the tower."
"There are better ways of doing that than handing someone a literal fortune! She's nervous enough already, if you hadn't noticed!"
"As if I could avoid noticing it," I muttered, taking the strainer out of the pot. "She will have to adapt. Salt might be seen as valuable for now, but I intend to make it commonplace before much longer."
Abigail looked as if she had more complaints to make, but she shut her mouth when Lenora returned. The dragon girl was carrying another glass bottle. Between the bulbous base and the cork stopper, it looked more suited for potions than spices.
"Is this really okay?" Lenora asked. Her voice was faint, and her eyes refused to focus directly on me, as if she were in a daze.
"It's fine if I say it is," I asserted, taking the bottle from her and uncorking it. Since this container had a more narrow opening, I used magic to funnel the salt into the vessel. Once it was full, I corked it once more and proffered it to her.
"But I'm not even a full-fledged chef... Why would you waste something so precious on someone like me?" Despite the protest, Lenora still took the bottle and cradled it against her chest. She even smiled at it, like a mother looking down at their precious baby.
"I intend to make salt a common commodity," I explained. "I brought quite a lot of it. You're simply the first to be served."
"S-Still… Isn't it strange to waste something like this to an apprentice chef?" Lenora insisted. She stared at the salt for several long moments and then held it out to me with trembling hands. "Y-You should give this to the head chef, instead…"
"Is that how you really feel?" I demanded, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps this is hypocritical, coming from someone who was born to her title, but if you aren't a full-fledged chef now, then you simply have to become one."
"B-become one?" Lenora echoed. "Do you really think I can?"
"And how could I possibly know that?" I asked, dismissively. "The only one who can ever know your limitations is you. But when it comes to salt, the head chef should be an amateur, too."
For a moment there was silence. Lenora stared at the bottle of salt in her hands. Then, right as I was starting to think the decision was too much for her, she tightened her fingers about the container and slipped it into the pocket of her apron.
"You're not at all like the rumors say you are," she told me, meeting my eyes for the first time. There was a small, shy smile on her lips. It was nice to see something other than fear directed my way.
Still, my own expression was somewhat strained. "The rumors of my cruelty are all too true," I confessed, sprinkling a little more salt on the potatoes, and hand tossing them to spread out the seasoning.
"For a long time, I was nothing but a spoiled brat." I uncorked the bottle of oil and began to pour the liquid into the pot. It took the majority of the bottle to satisfy me, since I wanted to eventually submerge the potatoes and strainer both.
"I'm sure that's not true!" Lenora protested, wide-eyed. "You're nice. Or… You've been nice to me, at least..."
I glanced at Abigail, looking for backup, but she only gave me a smug look, as if to say "I told you so." It seemed I would receive no support from her.
"I'm nice now, perhaps. But I have a lot to make up for, all the same. Denying the rumors would be like denying the pain I've caused, and I won't do that."
"Because denying all the good you're doing is so much better…."
My cheeks flushed red at Abigail's words, but I didn't respond to them. To begin with, they were spoken so softly that I wasn't entirely sure they were meant to be heard. Lenora certainly hadn't heard anything; she seemed too focused on the pot of potatoes to really process words whispered behind her. Answering a question she hadn't heard in front of her would simply lead to awkward confusion. At least, that's what I told myself.
But, truthfully, I just wasn't sure how to respond.
"The next part is heating the oil," I said, pressing onwards instead. "You'll probably have to experiment a bit with the size of the fire, and how long to cook them, but I'm going to cheat a little and use magic to heat it directly." I knew that too low a temperature would result in greasy fries, while making it too hot would burn them. What I didn't know was what temperature was actually required. I'd have to experiment.
I focused on a point in the center of the oil, building up heat rapidly until the surface began to boil. I then took a few of the fries, put them in the strainer, and placed that strainer in the pot. As makeshift fry baskets went, it was a definitively terrible replacement, but with magic at my disposal, I figured I could make it work. I'd need to get some proper fry baskets made at some point though. Hopefully, we were as good at working metal as we were with glass.
After a few minutes, I used magic to pull the strainer from the pan. The fries in it came out soggy, so I put them aside and raised the heat a little more, making the bubbles pop and sizzle even faster. The next test batch looked right, but when I bit into it it was far too hard, so I shifted the temperature back down a touch and waited for the bubbling to slow. In this way, I eventually narrowed down the temperature until I had a perfectly crisp, golden fry.
"Almost done," I promised the girls with a smile, "though I think it could use a little pepper… and perhaps some malt vinegar if we have any?"
"Right away!" Lenora jumped, running back to the cabinet.
I added the rest of the potatoes to the strainer and used magic to lower it back into the oil while she was getting everything. I wasn't exactly sure how long the fries were supposed to remain in the oil, so every minute or so I'd magically lift one out. In the end, it took a little under five minutes.
"The fries are finished!" I declared. "Fetch me four plates."
"Four?" Lenora asked, looking around the room. Her eyes flicked between me, Abigail, and Bailey, then darted around some more as if searching for a hidden person. "There's only three of you, though."
"But there are four of us," I countered, putting emphasis on the final word. "Or did you think you were helping me for free?"
"H-huh? M-me!?"
I'd thought most of the nervousness had leached out of Lenora over the course of my cooking, but now her stutter was back, and a look of pure panic had returned to her face.
"I-I can't!" she protested, "Th-This is food meant for the queen! For a commoner like me to even think about eating it would be… I mean. I couldn't!"
"I hardly see the problem. I've been ordering extra food for Abigail for almost a week now, have I not?" Well, excluding the days I'd been absent at least.
"B-But-" She glanced at Abigail, pleading with her eyes for help. My maid's only response was a helpless shrug of her shoulders, as if to say she didn't understand me either.
The way they were acting almost made me worry that I was being unreasonable, but I couldn't back down. If people started to treat this as some sort of extravagant, royal dish, it might very well become impossible to spread fries.
"I do not see how you intend to repeat the recipe if you don't even know what the end result is meant to taste like," I pointed out. "I intend to request this quite a bit, you know? Not to mention my plans of spreading it throughout the tower."
"Th-throughout the tower…?" Lenora repeated.
"...Seriously?" Abigail muttered.
"Well, I'll have to introduce everyone to potatoes first, but once you taste it, I'm sure you'll understand that this is a dish worth reprising."
"Maybe," Abigail conceded, looking somewhat doubtful. "But it takes a lot of oil. I don't think anyone but you could afford doing this regularly."
Lenora nodded firmly. "I was really surprised when you emptied most of the bottle."
Ah. Perhaps I had been a little quick on the draw there. Between the quantity of oil we possessed, and the assurance that we could get more, I'd jumped to the conclusion that it was cheap. But thinking about it now, even the relatively inexpensive oil of my last life had been pricey enough to keep me from deep-frying at home.
"Very well," I declared after a moment. "In that case, we will simply need to employ the oven method next time. I will teach it to you later - after we partake."
Having found no help in Abigail, Lenora turned her attention next to Bailey. When the wolf responded by licking her own nose, I could almost see the will to fight leaving Lenora's body. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she moved to pull four porcelain plates from a cabinet.
"I'll serve them," Abigail volunteered. "I think Lenora might break if you did it."
I wanted to scoff at the idea, but the wide-eyed look of terror on Lenora's face strongly reinforced it.
"Is the position of Queen truly such a big deal to you?" I inquired, looking down upon her. "Most of my citizens seem to think of me as an incorrigible brat."
"Th-They shouldn't say things like that to you," Lenora complained, ducking her head.
"Even if it's true?" I questioned, arching an eyebrow.
"It's not true. But even if it was…" Her hands curled into fists, which trembled at her sides. "Even if it was, it would be wrong to talk about you like that."
"Why?" I pressed, "If it doesn't bother me, I can't imagine why it would cause you such consternation."
"B-but… you're the Demon Queen…"
Like Lenora before me, I turned to Abigail for help. Unfortunately, I received no more than my predecessor.
"How the heck would I know? No offense, but I didn't think there was anyone on your staff who actually respected you. Except me, and that's a recent development."
"You respect me?" I balked. I had thought, from the way she'd been acting toward me of late, that we had perhaps crossed the border between dislike and neutrality. Considering her recent remarks, I even thought it possible that she'd begun enjoying my company. The way she talked to me and countered my self-deprecations felt almost like the actions of a friend. But I'd never thought that actualrespectwas on the table.
"A little. Sometimes. Don't let it go to your head," Abigail warned, narrowing her eyes. "You're still not off the hook for hiding so much from me. Or making that stupid plan."
I gave her a faint smile, choosing to ignore the more acrid words, then turned my attention back to Lenora.
"I really am just a person. Stripped of my powers, I would be no more special than you."
"That's not true," Lenora argued, shaking her head vigorously. "Y-you're different from anyone else… I mean, you're the Demon Queen!"
"Lenora," Abigail interceded, "what exactly do you think a demon queen is?"
"A hero." The smile on Lenora's face was bright and pure, so much so that it almost hurt to look at it. The admiration in her eyes was particularly difficult to deal with, as I couldn't think of anything I'd done to deserve it. "And not a fake one, like the Heroine. A real hero."
"A real hero?" I probed.
Lenora gave a firm nod. "Even though you're an angel, instead of a demon - even though you could live forever - you're still putting your life on the line for us, just like all the demon queens before you. How can anyone not respect that? How can anyone think you're selfish when your life's been promised to us from the very start?"
I didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't exactly untrue. Prior to recovering my memories of being Jacob, I really had thought my story would end in death; if not at the hands of this heroine, then from the next one, or perhaps the one after that. Some of my behavior could probably be attributed to that. I'm sure deep down, I thought that I deserved the luxuries I demanded since I was already doomed to be their sacrifice.
But it didn't excuse the way I'd treated everyone. If I was going to survive and live among my people, then it was up to me to make amends.
I let out a long sigh, placing my fingers on my temple. "...I'm sorry, Lenora," I said, offering her an apologetic smile,"but I think I'll be serving the fries."
"H-huh?" Lenora's ruby red eyes widened in surprise. "I… But… But… You're the Queen…"
"I am the Queen," I agreed, taking the plates from Lenora's unresisting hands, and placing them on the counter. I used magic to transfer fries to the topmost plate and then offered it to Lenora. "And as the Queen, I am ordering you to eat these fries alongside me and my friends."
"B-but… But why?" she asked, her hands trembling. She looked conflicted, torn between following my orders and offering me the respect she insisted I deserved.
"Because I am not dead yet."
"Huh?" She tilted her head in confusion, and even Abigail looked at me askance. Bailey, of course, remained oblivious and simply scratched at her ear with her hind leg.
"I am not dead yet," I repeated. "I am not one of the many demon queens who have laid down their lives. I have not yet crossed the barrier from which there can be no return. I am alive. And while I yet live, I wish to enjoy myself with friends. Not as the Queen, but as Devilla."
"I-I don't understand," Lenora stammared. "What does that have to do with serving me fries?"
"Everything. I am asking you to be my friend."
Lenora froze in place. Even her hands stopped trembling, as her red eyes locked onto mine. When she spoke, she did so with a voice so weak I doubt anyone but me could have heard it.
"...I'm just an apprentice chef…"
"No. You are Lenora Dors, the one in charge of making my future fries."
Lenora's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Thought it might be a bit cruel, I'll admit that she looked something like a fish.
"Thank you," she said at last, speaking softly. "But I can't."
"No?" I arched an eyebrow. Abigail, too, seemed curious, just judging by the way she leaned closer to hear.
"I got my current job because of my parents," Lenora explained, "and everyone knows it. They talk about it whenever I leave the room, even when I'm still in earshot. And they won't let me do any of the cooking... All I can do is sweep the floors and watch."
"Then I'd think you'd leap at the chance to do more," I remarked, not bothering to stifle my inquisitive tone.
"Y-yeah," Lenora agreed. "But… I want to earn it myself this time. If I get another job based on who I know, instead of what I've done, then there's no way I'll ever live it down…"
"I see," I murmured, running a hand idly through the tresses of my long white hair. Thanks to Abigail's good care, there wasn't a single knot in my locks. It felt like the tangles missing from my hair had knotted themselves into this situation instead.
"Very well," I conceded. "We will do things your way, but there's one point I won't back down on."
"Wh-What?" Lenora looked on edge as she answered me. No doubt she was readying herself to refuse, in case I asked too much. I wasn't prepared to take no for an answer though.
"You will eat these fries with me, and before they grow cold, at that." Lenora had helped me considerably with making them. I would pay her back for that.
Besides which, even if I couldn't give her a position, I could create an opportunity for her. As the only one in the kitchen who'd actually tasted fries, the head chef would need Lenora even after receiving the recipe. It would be up to her to take advantage of that opportunity to prove herself.
"...Can you at least let me serve my own fries?" Lenora asked, biting her lower lip.
"Oh, very well," I conceded with a sigh. "Fries are best when one simply helps themselves I suppose." Thankfully I'd planned to give Lenora a solid fourth of the fries, meaning I had quite the generous portion on my own plate.
Trying not to be impatient, I waited while Lenora grabbed some tongs, and began portioning out fries for herself. Surprisingly, both she and then Abigail put only a few fries onto their plates.
"I hope you two aren't thinking this dish will be too rich for your blood?" I chided, looking between the two of them as I prepped Bailey's plate.
"I-it's not that. It's just…" Lenora trailed off, and ducked her head down, refusing to meet my eye.
"It's just that we're not sure what to make of it," Abigail explained after it became clear that Lenora wasn't going to continue speaking. "I mean, you bring in some entirely new type of vegetable, add a substance we've never seen in person, and then used a cooking technique I've never even heard of. I'm sorry, Devilla, but you might end up eating most of this yourself."
"I'll remember you said that," I warned them, picking up my first fry. Despite the highhanded words, my own heart was pounding fiercely as I lifted the food to my mouth. What if they weren't as good as I remembered them being?
There was only one way to find out. I leaned forward to meet the fry halfway and bit into the crisp potato plank. As my teeth crunched through the surface, and the salty food touched my tongue, my eyes practically rolled back into my head from pleasure.
"Is it really that good?" Lenora asked, doubt written clearly on her features. "I-I mean, not that I don't trust you, but you didn't even add anything to it. I thought you wanted pepper and malt vinegar?"
"I simply wished to taste it once without any affectation," I explained, reaching for the pepper. "You can ask Bailey if you doubt me." The wolf had already devoured her portion and was now licking the remaining grease and crumbs from her plate. For my part, I added a generous portion of pepper to my fries, before making a small puddle of malt vinegar on my plate. I then dipped a fry into it and ate the result.
"Delicious!" I declared, hastily repeating the process. "Absolutely divine!"
"Really?" Lenora asked, doubt apparent in her curious gaze.
"It's like nothing I've ever tasted before." It was mostly true, too. Even if I had memories of eating fries in another life, this was the first time that their salty deliciousness had ever touched this tongue.
Lenora scrunched up her face, gathered her courage, and hastily stuffed a fry all the way into her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock when the taste hit her tongue, and her eyes darted from me to the plate in front of her, before finally settling on the rather large pile of fries still in the strainer.
"You may have as many as you wish," I informed her, not bothering to stifle a chuckle. "I was only teasing earlier."
"And you'll really teach me how to make these?" Lenora asked, eagerly reaching for the tongs and gathering more fries. "Without using so much oil?"
"That I will," I promised, chomping down on another delicious morsel. "And not just fries, either. There are all sorts of things that you can do with potatoes."
"Really?" Lenora's eyes were bright with enthusiasm, and I released another soft laugh. It seemed to me that this girl all but shed her nerves when it came to learning new recipes. She was now acting the same as she had when we were cooking.
"Really," I confirmed, another fry disappearing down my gullet. "But I want to focus on fries, first. It's important that people know the full deliciousness of the potato - or I'm sure that people will be as reluctant to partake as you were."
"It won't be a problem," Lenora assured me. "Once they've tasted this, nobody will care if it comes from something strange."
"Come on," Abigail scoffed, "you guys are talking about this like it's the next big sex position. There's no way anything made from those ugly brown lumps could taste that good." She poked at one of the fries, squinting at her plate. "Are you absolutely sure these potatoes are edible?"
"Quite sure," I insisted, placing a hand on my chest. "In fact, I will go so far as to make a vow - if you find no joy in consuming these fries, then I'll allow you to ask any one favor of me. So long as it's within my power to grant, it shall be yours."
"One favor, huh?" Abigail muttered, turning her head to the side. "So if I were to say, ask you to go over my knee and take a spanking?"
My cheeks flushed bright red. "Th-that's not really what I meant-"
"Too late!" Perhaps in an attempt to seal the deal, Abigail's hand darted out to grab a fry. Without a moment's hesitation she brought it up to her mouth and partook.
Of course, in doing so she had fallen right for my trap! There was no way that she could possibly eat a fry and not enjoy it. So there was no world in which I would actually have to put myself over her knee.
Yet despite my self-assuredness, Abigail didn't moan or even make an expression of pleasure. She just slowly, methodically chewed, and then swallowed.
"...Did you not like it after all?" I asked, beginning to get a little worried. While I was very difficult to damage, my body was still as sensitive to sensations as anyone else's. A spanking would hurt!
But I should have known better than to doubt the power of fries. The moment Abigail finished eating one fry, she reached for another, and another after that, until her entire plate was gone. Then she stared forlornly at the nearly spotless porcelain, which had been cleaned of all food.
"Is there something you would like to say?"
"I was wrong," she admitted, without a moment's hesitation. "I've never had anything like that before! Is that what salty food is like?"
"And it wasn't just the taste!" Lenora chimed in, "The way the hot oil got the outside all crisp, without ruining the soft fluffy goodness within… It was a stroke of genius! I'm not sure we'll be able to get it that crisp in the oven…"
"You likely won't," I admitted. "Though I suppose you could try air frying it…"
"Air frying?" Lenora asked, instantly attentive. "I've never heard of that."
"Yes. You'd essentially need to use magic to circulate hot air about the fries," I explained, reaching for another plank.
We ended up talking about frying techniques for some time. I knew little on the subject, but what little I knew was enough to spark Lenora's imagination in a big way. She ended up begging me for other potato recipes, too; I was more than happy to oblige.
The one sticking point occurred at the end after we'd finished our fries when I mentioned that they might have tasted even better if we had access to ketchup.
"What's ketchup?" Lenora asked, eyes wide and bright with excitement. "How do you make it?"
"It's a tomato-based sauce, but I'm not actually sure how to make it."
"Tomato-based…? Yeah! I can see that going well with fries!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her feet. "Oh, but if you don't know how to make it…" Her enthusiasm dropped. I'd brought up a way to improve upon the taste of something already delicious and then snatched it away from her. I felt bad about it. I was considering apologizing when her tail slammed excitedly against the floor.
"I'll just have to make my own sauce, then! Something totally original!"
"I suppose you will," I agreed, smiling softly. "I look forward to eating it on my fries."
Lenora froze.
"Th-the queen will be eating a sauce I invented?" she whispered, most likely speaking to herself. "Oh Goddess, what did I just get myself into…"
I resisted the urge to sigh, calling upon the memories of our chat in order to find the strength to smile. "I'm sure you'll be fine. But for now, I really must go."
"That's right," Abigail confirmed, moving to stand next to me. "You need to go meet Sylvanna."
"Agreed. After I bathe." I moved briskly toward the door, but Abigail reached out to catch my hand.
"No way!"
Abigail grabbing ahold of me and speaking loudly caused Bailey to stand up and growl at the maid, baring her teeth. I shot the wolf a displeased glare, and she shut up immediately, which brought about the return of my smile. She was a very smart pup. Though that only made sense, considering she was a demon.
Abigail, unfortunately, continued to glare at me throughout the entire exchange. I was a little impressed by how little Bailey's growl phased her, and a little intimidated by the way she was staring me down, with her arms crossed in front of her chest and a scowl on her lips.
"Abigail," I began, "I haven't been touched by so much as a damp cloth in over three days. I know I don't precisely smell, but I still feel quite unclean. I'm certainly not fit for meeting with a general."
"And the reason you didn't bring this up earlier?" she pressed, narrowing her eyes yet further.
"...I thought perhaps you'd make me skip breakfast if I bathed first," I confessed, a faint blush on my cheeks. I felt like a child must, right before they're about to be scolded. I deserved it, too. My actions so far had been selfish, and more than a little manipulative.
Instead of yelling at me however, Abigail released a pent-up sigh of her own and shook her head. "Are you really that afraid of meeting with Sylvanna?"
"Fear has nothing to do with it!" I protested. "I simply don't like the way she makes me feel about myself…" She always made me feel stupid. Not to mention small, petty, and worthless. I knew now, that it was all deserved, but that didn't mean I looked forward to it.
"Fine," Abigail groaned. I got the impression that her eyes were locked on mine, and I held my own gaze in place so as not to break eye contact. "But don't blame me if Sylvanna gets upset about this."
"I'll take the full blame," I vowed, placing a hand on my chest to show sincerity.
"Um… Should you really be discussing all this in front of me?" Lenora asked. "I mean, I really am just the apprentice chef, and you're talking about your relationship with a general…"
"It's fine. After all, you're also my friend." I smiled brightly, and she ducked her head in embarrassment.
"You totally forgot she was there, didn't you?" Abigail whispered, softly enough that only I could hear.
My only response was a bright red blush.
I stepped into the bathing chamber, closing the metal door behind me to seal myself in. Despite the extravagant name, it was actually a fairly plain room, fit for its simple purpose. It had no windows and only gray stone walls. The only furniture in it was a large, porcelain bathtub, but that alone was massive enough that I could practically swim in it.
Since the tub was so large, it actually took several maids to conjure enough water to fill it. Since this room had no windows, and the interior of the tower held only so much water in its atmosphere, they were forced to pull water in through a window in the adjacent room, and carry it carefully to the tub. Then they had to work together to heat it.
In the past, I had treated all this as a simple luxury. Now, I was all too aware of the hard work that went into its operation. Since my plan so far had been for my people to turn against me, I'd initially chosen to let things continue as they were. Now that my plans had changed, I would need to either get a smaller tub or start filling my own baths.
That was a choice for later, though. Today, the bath had already been drawn and heated. I'd only offhandedly mentioned my destination to a single maid, yet they still managed to do everything before my arrival. The speed my servants worked at was obviously nothing to be sneezed at. Perhaps that should have made me proud? But when I considered that they'd gotten so fast in order to meet my unreasonable demands, the only thing I could feel was guilt.
Shaking off my melancholy, I reached down to grab hold of my pale green shirt, pulling it over my head. My breasts sprung free of the cloth a moment before my head did, and the weight of their movements caused my eyes to travel downward.
I really did have nice breasts. Large enough to overspill my hand when I cupped one. Soft like a cloud, but firm, like the perfect pillow. Perkier than I would have thought possible without the assistance of a bra, and tipped with stiff nipples that were practically begging for a pair of soft lips to wrap around them.
It wasn't just my chest, either. My stomach was flat as an ironing board. My ass was prominent, without being fat. My hands and feet were small and delicate. I had no body hair, excluding a small landing strip above my currently concealed slit.
None of this was new to me. It wasn't as if this was my first bath, after all. Just counting the time since the Rite of Insight, I'd had a handful of them already. Yet every time I had one, I found myself staring at my body, wondering just how it had changed since my last life.
I couldn't really remember how I looked as Jacob. Even though my other past life memories were clear as day, I simply couldn't picture myself as I used to be. Indeed, whenever I tried to imagine my past self I'd end up mentally substituting my current form for Jacob's. I wasn't sure why. Perhaps my mental image of myself had simply shifted too dramatically to recover?
It hardly mattered, really. Regardless of how I used to look, I was comfortable with my current self. Indeed, the very thought of ever-shifting back filled me with revulsion, but it was strange to think that I'd drifted so far from my starting point.
What was it that brought about this change in me? Why was I so comfortable in this form? Was it merely a case of the body affecting the soul? That was the only explanation I could come up with, but it didn't feel quite right. Maybe it was simply that I'd lived this life as a girl for so long that I couldn't imagine anything else. I didn't know.
It really wasn't that important. Finding out the cause wouldn't undo the effect, and I wouldn't want it to in any case. It was simply that it bothered me, not knowing something so basic about myself. But thinking about it too long wouldn't get me anything but a cold bath.
I pushed my skirt and underwear down in one fell swoop, then stepped out of my clothing altogether. Striding up to the bathtub, I stepped carefully inside and lowered my body into the water.
It was warm. Not too hot, not too cold; the perfect temperature. That wasn't really much of a surprise though, as I always wanted my bath the exact same way. I'd thrown quite a few tantrums over it being too hot or too cold in the past. Especially hot. I'd accuse them of trying to scald me.
How ridiculous. Was being scalded even possible for me? I wanted to say no, though I couldn't be sure. It was certainly true that I could take high temperatures - I'd realized that during cooking. No matter how hot Abigail said the food was, it never burned my mouth. Even when I reflexively caught a pot of hot oatmeal in my hands as it fell from the stove, it didn't hurt me at all. Still, it wasn't as if I'd ever gone out of my way to test my limits. For most of my life, I'd acted as if I didn't even have them.
A memory surfaced, unbidden. Walking back into the village, after taking care of the wolves, my vision blurry and my body heavy. I'd managed to run completely out of magic, using up even the dregs. As a result of that, I fell unconscious for three days, all because I hadn't realized I was approaching my limits - because I hadn't even known what that would feel like.
What if I wasn't as immune to heat as I believed? Was it possible that I could be hurt by a hot enough flame? If I ended up face to face with such a blaze, it might very well be too late to conduct an experiment.
In that case, the obvious answer was to check what I could handle now, in a safe environment. And since all this began with the question of whether I could be scalded…
I began to pour my magic into the water around me. In contrast to how I heated the oil, this time I chose to suffuse the entire bath's worth of water with my magic. Then, I began to heat the entirety of the tub's contents at once.
First, the bath started to simmer. Then it began to boil, bubbles bursting across the surface of the water. It was strange - I could tell the heat was going up. It was certainly hotter than any bath I'd ever sat in, but it didn't hurt one bit. My skin didn't even turn red.
I upped the temperature. More and more steam began to rise from the surface of the water, but since my magic was suffused through the vapor I could control that as well. I called the steam down to myself, making it wreathe my upper body even as the boiling water bubbled against my lower half.
Eventually, the entirety of the bath turned to steam. Since I had no liquid, I decided to raise the temperature of the vapor instead. The more heat I poured into the steam, the more pressure I was forced to exert upon it in order to keep it from dispersing. I could feel the steam pressing against me as if it were a physical force, yet this hurt me no more than the increasing temperature.
I don't know how hot the steam got before I gave up. Enough that things began to get a little strange. The water, which I had most definitely turned into steam, seemed to no longer be vapororliquid, but something beyond both. Perhaps if I kept up the pressure, I would eventually turn it into a solid, and encase myself in some strange form of hot ice? The thought disturbed me, so I decided to stop adding heat and pressure.
Only then did I recognize the fatal flaw in my experiment: I had a bathtub's worth of superheated water under my control and no idea what to do with it. Generating heat is easy, but getting rid of it is another matter entirely. It was impossible to make the heat simply vanish - it had to go somewhere.
Of course, given time, the heat would naturally disperse. So long as I didn't prevent it, I'd eventually be left with nothing but traditional steam. But I didn't even want to think about how long it would take to cool something that had grown this hot. If I waited that long, Abigail would probably yell at me for delaying my meeting with Sylvanna yet further.
Thankfully, I had a solution. If all I needed was a heat sink, then I'd simply use my own body to contain the heat. It was a bit of a risk, but this too was me wanting to test my limits.
With the threat of Abigail's glare driving me onward, I began to draw the heat out of the water and into my own being. At first, I worried that there might be an issue - my blood might begin to boil, for example, or my organs start to falter. But no matter how much I took in, I felt absolutely fine. I was starting to think my body might simply be immune to heat.
I continued sucking up the heat, refusing to stop until the steam returned to being water, and flowed back into the tub. I had forgotten about the actual bathing, ignoring the soap entirely in favor of my experiment, but I was fairly sure no germs had survived.
Unfortunately, I still had a problem. Namely, that my body was now superheated, to the point where my change of clothes began to smolder and smoke when I touched them. Hastily, I dunked them in the bath to avoid them catching fire, causing steam to once again rise up from the tub. It was clear that I needed to get rid of this heat, immediately.
I had an idea. The room I was in had no windows, for security reasons, but since water was drawn from the room next to it that one had a rather large opening. All I needed to do was open the door, enter the neighboring room, and stride to the window. Then I could expel all this heat into the sky, where it could do no harm.
The only problem was that I'd have to do it naked.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and gathered my courage. Then I breathed out, opened my eyes, and walked right up to the door. On the other side of it were two maids, dressed in much the same way as Abigail: a black dress with white ruffles and a headband.
How I wished it was Abigail who'd been waiting for me instead… but there was no time for that. I needed to get this over with and go back to my room before too many people saw me.
I marched into the next room, practically skipped to the window, and pointed my palm up toward the sky. A jet of fire erupted from my hand, flying high into the sky before exploding into sparks like a firework.
With the heat safely drained, I let loose a sigh of relief and turned to leave the room. The maids were peering in, eyes wide and mouths open, but they quickly closed their mouths and stood at attention. I ignored them, walking to my room as quickly as I could. I did my best to act confident, as if this were perfectly normal, but I couldn't help the faint flush on my cheeks. I was proud of my body and happy to show it off, but preferably only under circumstances I could control.
Upon reaching my room, I yanked opened the door, and slipped inside, hastily closing it behind me. Then I let my eyes slip shut, leaned back against the door, and let out a haggard sigh. In the end, I was only seen by those two maids, but worrying over who else would see me and what rumors they would spread had put me very much on edge.
"You would not believe the bath I just had, Abigail," I complained, opening my eyes. "It was productive, I suppose, but-" I stopped. Not just talking, either. I stopped moving, stopped breathing, and even failed to blink, so great was my surprise. Then I closed my eyes and let out a low groan.
I was being terribly rude, and I knew it, but I couldn't help myself. Standing right in front of me was the general of the 90th floor. The toughest person I knew, excluding myself. The absolute genius who always made me feel like a fool.
Sylvanna the slime.
Sorry this update is coming so late/technically the next day! To be honest, I sort of spent the last six hours streaming NieRAutomata for my girlfriend. ^^;
As for my actual commentary - bonus triva time! The official unofficial title for Demon Queened Volume 1 is Friendship and Fries. I'm sure you can see why.
I'm happy with most of this chapter - Lenora in particular was quite a lot of fun to write - but I'm most definitely going to rework the bath scene in the published version. I had two goals for the scene - one being that Devilla should actively test her limits. She depleted her entire store of arcane magic for the first time in her life in Derrin Village, and I wanted to show her learning from that, and testing what she could handle. Even if her exact method of handling it was a little reckless.
The other goal is a secret, for now - it's not particularly plot-important, but it is mildly amusing. (Her being naked at the end, meanwhile, was not originally intended - but once I thought of it, I very much wanted it to happen, just for the next bit.)
All that said - I messed up the execution. As said, I want to fix it for publishing - but I've got it posted online in so many places at this point that the web version will be staying as is.
Anyway, look forward to chapter 10 tomorrow(/today) - AKA the Volume 1 finale! I also want to thank my editor, paradoxicalWitchling, and my proofreader, FallingLeaf!
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
Standing naked in my bedroom with my back pressed against the wall, lacking even a towel to hide behind, I fought to maintain my composure as I took in the sight before me.
Sylvanna stood in the center of the room. Combining the best traits of slime and girl, she actually cut a rather striking figure, with a delicate little nose, soft-looking lips, and bright pink eyes, all carved in perfect detail from the same pink gelatinous slime. Her body mimicked that of a human above the waist, including her currently uncovered tits which displayed a size and perkiness to rival my own. The illusion dropped below the waist however, as what would be legs had instead formed into a single amorphous base. A tentacle, protruding from the base of her body, was currently wrapped tightly around Bailey's snout.
Abigail, standing behind Sylvanna, was mouthing "sorry," but I ignored her. My focus was locked on Bailey, who was lying on the ground, pawing desperately at the tendril that constrained her. Every time her claws cut through the slime it simply reconstructed itself before it could snap, yet Bailey refused to stop seemingly desperate to escape. It took all my willpower not to freeze the tentacle solid and break it off by force. As it was, I could feel my blood begin to boil.
"Wow, Queen Devilla…" Sylvanna smirked. "I guess the rumors were true! You really are showing everyone a whole new side of yourself. And it seems we're getting quite a view…"
"Let her go," I commanded, ignoring the barb and snarling at the slime while pointing to Bailey.
"The monster?" Sylvanna arched a translucent eyebrow. "That's what we're starting with? No throwing a fit at me for walking into your room? No screaming at your maid for daring to let me in, even though she couldn't stop me if she tried?"
"I said to let her go, Sylvanna. Last warning."
"Fine, fine," Sylvanna conceded, waving her hand dismissively. "No need to snap, it was just a little security measure. Your stupid monster kept trying to eat me." The tentacle around Bailey's snout receded, disappearing entirely into Sylvanna's body. "Now can we talk?"
"In a moment," I told Sylvanna through gritted teeth, before moving to kneel down next to Bailey. I stroked the wolf's snout, traveling from her nose all the way up to her horn.
"You did good," I whispered, even knowing that she couldn't understand me. I wanted to reach out to her telepathically, but I still hadn't tested whether I could pull that off without ingesting one of her hairs. Experimenting on myself was one thing, but I wouldn't risk anyone else.
Even though Bailey couldn't understand me, she seemed to take comfort in my tone and touch. She stopped whining, and instead licked my hand and wagged her tail.
Once I was certain Bailey was fine, I rose to my feet and turned back to Sylvanna, narrowing my eyes at the slime girl. "That 'monster' you attacked happens to be a demon, and a friend. She was simply trying to protect me from an unwelcome intruder."
"Oooh, unwelcome! Do you see how harsh she is with me, Abby?" Sylvanna turned her head to pout at my maid, ignoring my glare. "And she's such a bad liar, too. I've memorized the census report for the entire tower, and we don't have a single horned wolf girl in it. I've never even heard of the species!"
"I'm not lying," I snapped before Abigail could respond. "She's a new resident, and a new species. She was born to an actual horned wolf, as it happens. I trust you know what that means?"
"That you're a really bad liar?" Sylvanna shrugged. "You expect me to believe you just happened to prove the origin of monster girls while you were out on your little vacation?"
"Vacation? I was collecting salt!"
"For three days?" Sylvanna countered, hands perched on her gelatinous hips. "Sounds like a vacation to me. Though, wait..." She mused, placing a hand against her chin, and stroking the tip with her thumb. "Do you still call it a vacation if you weren't working to begin with? I mean, you don't really do anything, do you?"
"That's…" Not fair. That was what I wanted to say. But it actually was, wasn't it? I was supposed to be the queen, the ruler of my people, and yet I did so little to actually lead them.
I wasn't alone in that, mind you. One of the few lessons I'd actually taken to heart was how demon queens throughout the ages had delegated the work of ruling. Some said it was a tradition set by Luci herself, who felt that divine beings had no business governing the minutiae of mortal lives. We still wielded absolute authority of course, but we rarely used it.
In my case, I'd given the power of rule to my generals. The exact nature of their duties varied - for example I had Yara on the bottom floors, managing our food supply, just as Mifa and her harpies were theoretically in charge of scouting. Regardless of what else they handled, however, by and large each of the demon generals acted akin to human nobles, running ten floors apiece.
None of that was an issue, at least for the moment. While part of me thought I should try for a constitutional monarchy, I knew better than to uproot our current system while we were still on the verge of extinction. The problem was that no matter how much a queen delegated, someone still had to oversee everything. Whether it was warding off corruption, mediating disputes between generals, or simply signing things into law, someone still had to wield the actual power of a queen.
That was where Sylvanna came in. Since there was no distinction between a slime girl's body and brain, Sylvanna was able to turn her entire being towards figuring out complex problems. On top of that, she could split herself into copies and merge again, allowing her to do the job of an entire team by herself. It made her a near ideal administrator for the tower. Absolutely perfect, except for one tiny, little detail.
Sylvanna, the only slime in the tower, absolutely loathed work. She was a hedonistic slut by nature, desiring nothing but sex, food, and drink. She indulged constantly. Even as half of her body was devoted to working, and another third to sleeping, the remainder was split in four to ensure she could participate in some form of debauchery at all times. As such, Sylvanna was working, eating, sleeping, fucking, and drinking all at the same time, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
I couldn't even imagine how exhausting that had to be. That was why she took every opportunity to belittle me. And how was I supposed to protest? How was I supposed to call her words unfair, when her hard work was the only reason I had so much free time?
"That's not fair!"
My head snapped up as the words I chose not to speak echoed through the room. Abigail, visible through Sylvanna, had one hand on her hip and a scowl on her lips.
"That's not fair," she repeated when Sylvanna turned around to face her. "Devilla is trying. She got salt for the whole tower, and a new vegetable called 'potatoes,' which is actually pretty damn delicious fried. And okay, there were definitely better uses of her time, but she's trying, and you don't get to just come in here and tear her down like that!"
"Feisty," Sylvanna jabbed, crossing her arms beneath her voluptuous chest. "But you should try defending literally anyone else. Maybe check the dungeons? You'll find murderers with more empathy for their fellow demons than that girl."
"That's-"
"Enough!" I interrupted, stepping forward and slashing my hand through the air to mark an end to the conversation. "It's appreciated, Abigail. Honestly. But you aren't going to convince Sylvanna of anything like this."
"Did you two practice this?" Sylvanna accused, looking back and forth between Abigail and me. "Let me guess - she's tired of me calling her out as a selfish, self-centered brat, so she's making you pretend she actually has a good heart or some such malarky. Probably made you memorize a whole script, right? Oooh, did she complain about not having enough lines, even though she wrote it?"
"Is there a purpose behind your being here?" I asked, trying and failing to keep the frustration from my voice. "It must be important if I'm meeting with all ten feet of you." Saying it was rare for all of Sylvanna to gather in one place would be a drastic understatement. I hadn't seen her whole in years, not since she'd first taken the job of administrator.
"Really?" Sylvanna asked, stretching out her malleable torso so that she could peer down at me from up high. "You can't even guess? Not even a vague hunch? I mean, whatever could the tower administrator want with the queen? It's not like she was promised anything!" She was shouting by the end, her voice laced with sarcasm.
"Promised…? Ah!" My eyes widened with sudden understanding. A promise made between me and Sylvanna? There was only one that came to mind. It was the reason she'd agreed to become my administrator in the first place, despite her hatred of work. It was also part of why I'd been avoiding her.
"You promised me you'd free my people, Devilla! You went through the Rite of Insight. You learned holy magic! And I've done everything you've asked. So why are my people still under the Heroine's spell?" She leaned further forward with each word till her back was craned forward at a truly ridiculous angle, taking up much of the room.
"You know I hate it when you loom over me," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest, and pointedly looking away. I'm sure I looked like a petulant child to everyone in the room. My words certainly suited that image, but the sad truth was that I was simply trying to buy time to think.
Sylvanna's people, the Slime Girls. A long-lived race that rarely propagated, despite being quite good at it. From what I'd been told, they used to celebrate a species-wide holiday. Once every fifty years, all the slimes on the continent would gather together and merge, sharing their thoughts and experiences with the entirety of their population. For one glorious day, the many became one.
It was on that day of union, twenty-one years ago, that the previous Heroine made her move. According to the single eyewitness report, she'd snuck her way into the festivities, strode up to the merged slimes, and with a few whispered words turned the entire great being to stone.
Sylvanna, too young to participate in the merge, was granted a temporary reprieve so that she could spread word of what had been done to her people. Frightened, she came straight to the tower to tell my mother what had happened. And my mother, who had just barely finished giving birth to me, immediately flew off to fight the Heroine and save those poor, petrified slimes.
And that was how she died.
For a long time, some part of me blamed Sylvanna for that. It wasn't her fault, obviously. My mother knew what she was stepping into from the start, I'm sure. But I think that anger was what led me to do what I did - as poor an excuse as it was.
I had dangled the freedom of Sylvanna's people before her. I told her that I would only turn them back if she helped me maintain my rule. I abused her, in a way that I'm not sure can ever be forgiven. And now here I was trying to ignore the problem simply because I couldn't fix it. Sylvanna was completely right about my selfishness.
I wanted to set things right, of course. I needed to set things right. But reversing petrification was holy magic; I couldn't cast it without knowing the right words.
"I thought you'd be used to getting loomed over," Sylvanna remarked, interrupting my thoughts. "You know, considering how short you are." She twisted about without moving her base, easily shifting her upper half a hundred and eighty degrees to look at Abigail, before pointing a finger back in my direction. "Did you know she's only five foot three? It took me a while to notice because she's almost never out of heels."
"I am five foot four and you know it!" I snapped.
"And there you have it," Sylvanna declared, pressing one arm into her waist and taking an impossibly deep bow even as she turned back toward me. "The spoiled princess. The real Devilla Satanne. Good to see you drop the act! Now, tell me why you still haven't freed my people. Unless you'd prefer me taking an extended break from running this damn tower?"
For a long moment, I stood silent, quietly turning the problem before me over and over in my mind. Sylvanna was the force that single-handedly kept the tower running. She was threatening to quit if I didn't do what she wanted. I couldn't tell her no, for both moral and practical reasons, yet if I said yes she'd find out my impotence immediately.
"I… can't," I confessed, seeing no alternative. "I messed up the Rite of Insight. I don't know the spell."
Lying would be pointless. Sylvanna would see straight through any fib I told, and I didn't want to tell one besides. The only way out of this situation, the only way to make up for my past actions, was to be honest with Sylvanna. Then maybe, just maybe, we could work toward a solution together.
"...You don't know the spell?" Sylvanna repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you telling me that after a lifetime of 'I'll learn everything I need to know from the Rite,' you messed it up?"
"That's right," I confirmed, nodding solemnly. "But I think we can still save your people. We just need to work together a little while longer."
"Right. By which you mean I should work for you a little bit longer, and you should… what? Goof off? Fuck around? Find some 'potatoes'?"
"I told you, that's not fair," Abigail protested before I could respond. "I don't know your full history, but whatever Devilla did to you in the past she's changed. I know what she used to be like, but she's honestly trying her best to do better."
"Still defending our Queen?" Sylvanna challenged. "Don't tell me you actually believe that crap? People like Devilla don't change. They don't get better. That would require them admitting something was wrong to begin with."
"Holy hell, you're almost as stubborn about this as she is," Abigail groaned, before jabbing at Sylvanna with her finger. "Devilla realized something was wrong with her behavior and started making an effort to change it, which is more than I can say for you!"
"That's-"
"Enough!" I interrupted, raising my voice to cut through their argument. Both figures turned to me. Abigail seemed surprised by my outburst; Sylvanna merely looked smug.
"Can't stand being left out of the conversation, can you?" she sniped, smirking triumphantly. "Even when it's all about you to begin with. Same Devilla as always - eternally trying to be the center of attention."
"Believe that if you wish. I deserve whatever you have to say about me, and worse. What I did was wrong, and I am sorry. Deeply and terribly so. But arguing isn't going to bring your people back."
"And neither are you," Sylvanna snapped. "You already said you don't know the spell."
"No, I don't, but I can get it." I noticed Abigail's eyes widening in surprise, but I chose to ignore it. I knew I was taking a gamble here, but if there was another choice I wasn't smart enough to find it.
Besides, Sylvanna deserved to hear the truth.
"You can get it?" she demanded, suddenly jerking forward so her eyes (or what passed for them) were even with mine. "How? The only one allowed to speak the holy tongue is the demon queen, and you just told me you don't know it!"
"That's not exactly true, though. The Heroine knows it as well." And the church, I assumed, since someone had to teach her. The humans probably didn't have a law against writing down the holy tongue. I wasn't entirely sure why we demons did. Another detail that would have been explained by the Rite of Insight, no doubt.
"...You're joking." The look in Sylvanna's gelatinous eyes was one of pure disdain, as if she were looking at a particularly ugly bug. "You want to make a deal with one of those genocidal maniacs? She'd give you a spell, alright! One to turn them into mush!"
"The current heroine isn't like that!" I objected, stepping closer to Sylvanna, until our noses were almost touching.
I expected the slime girl to move backwards. Instead, she morphed her hand into a tentacle to wrap around my neck, lifted my unfortunately light body up before I had a chance to react, and slammed me against my bedroom wall. I found myself suddenly at eye level with Sylvanna, whose malleable face was twisted with rage. Even Bailey, crouched on the floor, seemed momentarily stunned by the suddenness of it.
"What do you know about it?" Sylvanna demanded. "You've never met one of them before. The pure contempt in that human's eyes when she looked at me - the way she talked about petrifying my people like it was just something to check off her to-do list. Those monsters have no respect for demon lives!"
Bailey, recovering from her shock, got to her feet and released a low growl, her lips pulling back to reveal her fangs. It looked like she was about to attack Sylvanna, despite knowing it would be futile, but Abigail stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the wolf. That, combined with a stern look from me, was enough to stop her.
"You're wrong," I told Sylvanna, my feet dangling beneath me as I glared back at her. "Maybe the last Heroine was like that. In fact, I'm sure most of them were. But I've met the current Heroine, and I can tell you now that she is different. I can convince her to help. I just need time."
"You've met her?" Sylvanna asked. Her eyes, like Abigail's, had no pupils. They were merely shallow copies, created from Sylvanna's slime. Yet despite that, perhaps because of my experience with Abigail, I felt certain that Sylvanna's eyes were boring into mine, fury flickering behind them. "You've met her!? What are you planning? Are you going to betray us? Hoping you can live a cushy life if you just turn the rest of us over?"
"Do you truly think so little of me?" I hissed, appalled. I might have been lazy, selfish, and even cruel, but even at my worst I had never taken my subjects' lives that lightly. I'd never ordered an execution, or a public whipping. Even my threat about Sylvanna's people had been nothing more than a bluff.
But that didn't make a difference to Sylvanna, did it? She believed that bluff. Of course she'd believe that I was capable of this too. What had she ever seen that would convince her otherwise?
"Sylvanna," I breathed, laying my hand upon the tendril that was wrapped about my neck. "I did something terrible. I'm sure I betrayed whatever trust you had in your ruler that day. And I know I have no right to your forgiveness. But even though I have no right to ask it, I'm begging you to trust me. Please - help me save your people."
"She means it!" Abigail called out, rising to her feet and stepping between me and Sylvanna. She placed a hand against my thigh, and squeezed it faintly in what I took to be a sign of support. "I know you don't believe it, but she really has changed. She's trying to broker peace with the Heroine, to end the war and save our people."
For a long moment, Sylvanna didn't speak. She didn't even move, her gelatinous form frozen in place. She simply held me in place against the wall, staring into my eyes. Then, without warning, she dropped me to the floor, her tendril receding into the shape of a hand.
"Help you save my people, huh…?" Sylvanna murmured, staring down at me. "Those are the same exact words you used when you made me your administrator. But for some insane reason, it almost sounds like you mean it this time. There must be something seriously wrong with me for even asking this, but can you give me a single reason to trust you?"
"Not a one," I confessed. "There's nothing I can say that can possibly counter my actions so far. But I will save your people, Sylvanna. Even if you don't help me, I'll still find a way. But it will be a lot easier with your help than without."
"...Either you're a better liar than I gave you credit for, or you actually mean it. Alright. I'll work as your administrator for one more month. But you'd better have some slimes ready to replace me, after - or I'll find a way to make you regret it."
"One month," I agreed, looking up at her from my position on the floor. It was a tight deadline. I wasn't sure I could get Lucy to trust me in such a short time, but if all I needed was a depetrification spell, then I thought I might be able to make do.
"I'm going to want progress reports, too," Sylvanna warned. "I'll assign four percent of myself to be your liaison."
"Four percent?" I asked. "That's it?" A slime's body and brain were one and the same. When fully assembled, Sylvanna could handle equations with the speed of a supercomputer, and could recall information she'd heard once several months ago. At four percent of her capacity, she could almost manage basic arithmetic, and could just barely remember her own name.
Sylvanna snorted. "You're lucky I can spare anything. Most of my selves have better things to do."
I opened my mouth to protest, then forced myself to close it. She had more than four percent to spare, I knew. There were at least four clones of that size eating, fucking, and drinking at nearly all times, but Sylvanna likely wasn't willing to sacrifice what stress relief she had just to keep an eye on me. It would be a pain to deal with only four percent of her, but I'd have to make do.
"Very well," I conceded. "You can send her over whenever you need a progress report. But if we're going to pull this off, I'll need your help normalizing my occasional absences from the tower. Tell everyone I'm out searching for resources, or some such. I'll make an attempt to visit back whenever possible, but I don't want anyone run ragged covering for me." I glanced at Abigail with those last words, and she returned an appreciative smile..
"Do you really think you should be asking me for anything right now?"
"No," I admitted. "But I don't think I have much choice. You're the only one with enough influence to convince everyone there's nothing wrong with my absences. And I'll need to be absent quite frequently if I'm to pull this off within a month."
Sylvanna glowered at me for a long moment, gelatinous lips pressed into a thin line. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Fine. If you really want to make it work though, you should learn teleportation magic and at least spend your nights here." She paused, squinting at me. "Assuming that isn't too much work?"
"I'm sure I'll manage. Thank you for the suggestion." I kept my voice polite, if a little flat, choosing not to rise to Sylvanna's taunt. "Now, if you don't mind, Abigail and I have some matters to attend to."
"Uh-huh. I'll leave you to the 'hard work' of being queen," Sylvanna jabbed, turning toward the door. "Do try not to strain yourself!"
I waited until the door clicked closed, then let out a sigh of relief. "I honestly wasn't sure what was going to happen, for a little bit there… if she chose to pull her support from the tower without giving me time to find a replacement, it would have been utter chaos."
"Did you really use her people against her?" Abigail asked, judgement in her eyes.
"Yes," I confessed, staring at the ground as my face burned hot. "I suppose that makes me even worse than you thought I was."
"A little bit," Abigail shrugged. "But you're not who you used to be."
"I told you that recovering my past life memories didn't change who I was, deep down. I might have learned some empathy, but I'm still the same woman who did that, and more."
"No, you're not," Abigail insisted. "I'm not the same succubus I was a week ago, and I didn't get a lifetime of memories shoved into my head. People change, Devilla, whatever Sylvanna says. You just did it a lot quicker than most."
"...Do you really think I deserve forgiveness?" I asked, a waver in my voice as I turned back to meet Abigail's gaze.
"I don't know." Her response was immediate and uncomfortably blunt. "I forgave you. And I think if you let others get to know you, they might forgive you too. But it's all pretty worthless if you never get around to forgiving yourself."
"...Perhaps after I've saved our people, then," I told her, doing my best to smile. The result was flimsy, at best. "Speaking of - I suppose I'll need to find a teacher to help me learn the teleportation spell… and I'll need to get some supplies together for the road… and a large bag I can pretend to be pulling it out of since I can't let people find out about the Empty Bag… Perhaps I should start with finding a piece of paper, and making a to-do list."
"There's paper in your desk. I'll work on finding you a magic teacher, you make... the... " Abigail paused, swaying and then stumbling toward the bedroom wall, thrusting out an arm just in time to catch herself.
"Are you alright?" I asked, pulling myself to my feet and rushing to her side.
Abigail lifted a hand to stop me. "I'm fine," she promised, despite not looking it. Even her tail was drooping.
"What's wrong?" I demanded, side-stepping her upheld hand and reaching out to feel her forehead.
"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to bat aside my hand, but only managing to thump weakly upon my forearm.
"Checking you for a fever." She wasn't hot, to my relief, though her cheeks looked a bit warm.
"For a what?" The confused frown on Abigail's face bewildered me in turn.
"...Right. We're demons." There were fairy tales about magical plagues afflicting our people, but that was about it. We didn't suffer from mundane things like stuffy noses or fevers. It was a good thing too, considering the entirety of demonkind was living in a single tower. If humans tried it, they'd likely be wiped out by a plague.
"Look, I'm fine," Abigail promised, ducking down to escape my hand. "I'm just a little hungry."
"Hungry?" I asked, tilting my head to the side in confusion. "Did you not eat enough fries?"
"Not that kinda hungry," Abigail corrected me, with a terse smile. "I just haven't had time to stop by the brothel for a few days."
"...Because you were covering for me?" I asked, realization beginning to dawn. Abigail told me when she started the job that she needed to feed on sexual energy to survive. I wanted to scold the succubus for prioritizing work over eating, but it was my carelessness that put her in such a position to begin with. If not for her hard work, I might have come back to a tower awash in panic.
"I'll be fine," Abigail insisted. "I'll just head down to my mom's place now and grab a snack. Assuming that's okay with you?"
"It is not."
"Thanks. I- Wait, what?" Abigail stared at me in confusion, then scowled. "Devilla, this isn't a great time for jokes. I really need to eat."
"Indeed, you do," I agreed. "Which is why you aren't going anywhere until you've fed. You're in no condition to fly down to your floor, and I certainly have no intention of letting you walk the distance when you're too weak to even stay upright."
"You can't be serious," Abigail protested, trying to move past me to get to the door.
"As the grave," I informed her, deliberately blocking her. "If you have someone in mind, give me a name and I'll bring them to you. Or if anyone will do, I'll ask among the maids. But if you insist on going down to the brothel, then know that I intend to carry you the whole way."
"I'm fine, Devilla," Abigail maintained, glowering. However, the angry expression broke apart before I could even respond, and she let out a loud sigh. "You're ridiculous to deal with, Devilla. You know that? But if you're that concerned, you should really see to my health personally, don't you think?"
"This isn't the time to tease!" I complained, scowling at Abigail. "I'm worried about your health!"
"Who's teasing?" She was still smiling, but it now came off as smug to me. "Didn't you promise we could have sex whenever I got hungry, back when I took this job?"
"...You're serious?"
Instead of responding, Abigail bent forward, a gleam in her eye. For a moment I thought she intended it as a bow, but then suddenly her lips were brushing against my nipple. The pink peak stiffened instantly at the contact, and a smirk flitted across Abigail's face. That was all the warning I had before her lips closed around the tip of my breast and began to suck.
It felt divine. The feeling of her wet mouth on my nipple, pulling at my perky tit, was enough to make me moan. I had to bite my lip when she parted to prevent myself from whimpering at the loss. At the last moment, just before her lips left me, she pinched my nipple between her teeth and tugged, drawing out a sharp cry.
"I'm always serious about sex," Abigail smirked, before shoving me away. . "Now go lay on the bed."
"And why are you ordering me around?" I demanded, crossing my arms defensively in front of my chest. "I'm your queen, you know."
"What? Do I need to beat you in battle if I want to top?" Abigail laughed. "I'm a domme in the brothel. If you want to feed me, you're going to have to do a little role reversal."
"...Fine. For your health," I grumbled, before marching over to my closet and opening the door. "Bailey, inside. There are some things you do not need to witness." Thankfully my closet was as large as most people's bedrooms. The sheer amount of clothes I had made it feel a little cramped, but it was only an illusion.
Despite that, the sad look Bailey shot me still made me feel like the biggest monster on Solla for suggesting it. For a moment, I wavered. Would it really be that bad letting the wolf watch?
Of course it would be! She wasn't even really a wolf.
But still….
"In, Bailey!" Abigail ordered, interrupting my thoughts with a snap of her fingers.
Bailey reacted instantly, to the tone if not the words. She all but ran into the closet, disappearing into a thicket of skirts. I closed the door behind her with a sigh.
"Don't act like your job is done," Abigail growled at me. "I told you to lay on the bed, not put the dog out."
"You couldn't have seriously expected me to do anything while Bailey was in the room?" I protested. Never mind that I had wavered on that very point only a moment prior.
"I expect you to follow instructions and to let me handle things." Abigail stepped closer as she spoke, stopping a few inches in front of me. She reached out a slender hand and ran it through my white hair. It felt pleasant, until, without warning, she grabbed hold of my tresses and tugged my head back, sending my gaze to the ceiling. Closing the distance between us, she whispered in my ear, "Right now, I'm in charge."
A shiver ran through me at those words. It was the first time anyone had ever spoken to me like that. To be honest, it was making me a little wet.
"Very well," I consented. "Release me, and I'll walk to the bed."
Abigail yanked on my hair again in response. It dealt no actual damage to me, but my scalp was still sensitive enough for it to hurt.
"No walking," she ordered. "Autonomy is for good girls who do what they're told. You obviously can't be trusted."
"Then what do you propose?" I asked, bemused. "Sex on the floor?"
Abigail slid her hand down the length of my hair, stopping around my mid back. At the same time, she moved her other hand down beneath my ass. Then, without so much as a by-your-leave, she picked me up in a casual bridal carry and began to walk toward the bed.
"O-Oh!" I squeaked, blushing faintly. "You're much stronger than you seem…"
"You're just light," Abigail remarked. "Must be because you're so short."
"I am not short!" I whined, pouting up at my maid. "I'm simply… compact."
"Devilla. That's just another way of saying short," Abigail teased, placing me gently atop the pink covers that adorned my bed. "Why do you care so much anyway?"
"Because demon queens are meant to be imposing," I answered, honestly. "Or at least all the portraits I've seen of my ancestors make it seem that way…"
"Is that all it is?" Abigail laughed. "You're never going to be imposing. Ever! It's just not happening. I mean, you're probably the most adorable demon queen to ever live."
"Is that seriously all you have to say on the matter?" I balked. "No words of encouragement? I thought this was where you'd tell me I don't need to measure up physically to match them in spirit."
"Hmmmm…" Abigail mused, tapping a finger against her chin. "Nope. Can't think of any motivational speeches. But I will say this." She climbed into the bed, pressing her thighs into the space between mine, and then leaned down to kiss my nipple once more. My breath caught in my throat as her tongue darted out against my teat, before moving about the nipple in a slow, teasing circle. When she parted from me, she left my peak wet and stiff with need. "You are very fun to tease."
A deep blush colored my cheeks, kindled by the kiss and words alike. The smirk on Abigail's lips said she knew just what she had done to me, and that she wasn't done yet. She was already lowering herself down to cup my breast in one of her hands, and was soon peppering my cleavage with kisses.
I arched my back, thrusting my chest out against her mouth, and gave myself over to the pleasurable assault. But the kisses to my breasts were only a distraction. While I was laying back on the bed, my eyes closed and my breath coming in heavy gasps from her attack on my chest, I failed to notice the hand that was working its way between our bodies. Before I realized it, Abigail already had a hand on my inner thigh, and a thumb edging ever closer to my outer folds.
"If you want to back out, this is your last chance," she said, pressing her short trimmed nails against my upper thigh, hard enough to leave faint imprints on my skin. "In another second, I don't think you'll be able to think straight enough to make me stop."
"I have no intention of backing down," I informed her, shaking my head defiantly. "I set out to get you fed, and I intend to see it through to the end."
"...Alright, drama queen," Abigail agreed, leaning down to press her lips against my breast again. Her lips felt hot against my skin. Her tongue, which darted against my exposed nipple, was firm but gentle. Her humid breath cascaded across my skin. And as I focused on this minutiae, two of her fingers entered my sex.
My body stiffened at the intrusion, even as my wet mound eagerly accepted the digits. I could feel her fingers on my inner walls, feel her nails lightly digging against my flesh. The sensation was so clear that I had to wonder, once again, whether I had some extra nerves in there.
Slowly, Abigail's fingers pressed inward, moving deeper into my body and then slowly withdrawing, her short trimmed nails in constant contact with my channel. Her thumb brushed against the faint stubble above my pussy, and then traveled down again, settling over my clitoris. She teased at it, gently working it away from its hood so that she could run the pad of her thumb across it, again and again.
Each touch to my clit felt like she was sending a bolt of lightning arcing through my body. Her fingers inside my wet slit might as well have been pumping fire through my veins as they worked their way in and out. It felt like an inferno had joined forces with a storm to rampage through my being. My back arched. My lips opened to release a loud moan.
Her fingers continued to work at me, her lips sucking at my tit, her teeth nipping at my flesh. Her kisses plastered my cleavage. Even her tongue made the occasional appearance, licking at the skin that stretched between my breasts. The heat within me kept building all the while, until it felt like I could no longer contain it.
Yet before the heat could overspill, Abigail's finger suddenly stopped moving. The heat that had been washing over me in waves began to recede, and the climax I was so close to fell away. What was going on? Was this some sort of terrible trick? What had I done to deserve this? I wanted to ask, but all that emerged from my throat was a high pitched whine of need.
Abigail chuckled in response, running her thumb lightly across my clit before slamming her fingers back into me, and starting to pump again. With Abigail fanning the flames, it wasn't long before I stood once more at the brink of orgasm. And yet, once more, Abigail's fingers began to slowly withdraw from my sex.
"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, gathering all my willpower to force the words out.
"Just a little fun, your Majesty," Abigail teased, holding up the two fingers that had been stuffed inside me. "This time, anyway. Next time we do this, I intend to make you beg."
"Beg!?" I demanded - or tried to, anyway. The only thing that came out was a strangled squeak as I felt something enter my pussy. Looking down, I could see Abigail's tail inside me, the spade teasing against the interior of my being. Slowly but surely it worked its way in, the tip of the spade teasing at my internal nerves. My walls squeezed down tight on the tail, but still it made its way deeper inside, until at last I felt the spade brush against something deep within my core.
A single touch had me crying out. Abigail grinned, twisting the cord-like tail about within me so that the protruding part could brush against my clit even as her spade worked my g-spot. The heat within me, which had begun to recede once more, was suddenly back with a vengeance. I could feel fire coursing through my veins. It was more than I could handle, more than I knew what to do with. I came, slamming my head back against the bed as I screamed out my lover's name.
"That was a good meal," Abigail commented, parting from my tits and pulling out her tail. She sat upright, straddling my waist.
"Then you're fully recovered?" I inquired, once I had regained control of my body.
Abigail nodded.
"And you promise not to go without food again? Even for my sake?" I pressed.
"I promise, I promise. Honestly, Devilla, you're being a worrywart. I would have been fine even if you hadn't done anything."
"...It seems you still don't understand how much you concerned me," I remarked, casually reaching up to grab Abigail's arms. Then, before she could register what I was doing, I pushed myself up off the bed and pressed her down into the mattress, rearranging myself so that I could straddle her this time.
"Hey! Turnabout's against the rules!" Abigail protested, glowering up at me. Her lips were pulled into a pout, but I thought I could see amusement behind the fake anger.
I wasn't playing, though. "Abigail, I was sincerely worried about you. I don't want you pushing yourself past your limits for my sake."
"Alright," she agreed, readily enough. "I'll try not to push myself too hard. But only if you do the same."
"That's different," I argued, looking away. "The fate of our people rests on my shoulders. I'm supposed to push myself a little."
"Devilla, if you're feeling pushed, then you're probably doing enough to kill a normal person three hundred times over. I'm not saying you shouldn't try your best, but I got really scared when you disappeared for three days. I don't want you overextending yourself like that again."
"...Very well," I conceded, shaking my snow-white hair. "I'll try not to press myself too hard. Thankfully, the Heroine already seems to like me. A month is pushing it, but with a little luck I should be able to bring her around…" Lucy joined forces with the demons all on her own, in the game. Surely she'd be receptive, when the time came, to words from their queen.
The graveyard gate let out a familiar squeal as it opened, just as it always did. Once again, I considered whether I should bring oil on my next visit. It wasn't really my responsibility, but I'm sure that's what everyone else thought as well! Besides, the gate was the entrance to the graveyard - it set the tone for the entire visit. It was worth fixing, and I did have the money...
Actually, I made a lot of money as an adventurer, doing jobs that were too dangerous for most, though I often ended up giving a lot of it back. Really, while I needed enough to support myself, I didn't adventure for the gold! I did it to help people. That's what a Heroine was supposed to do, after all! And fixing the gate would be another way of doing that.
That settled it. Next time I was definitely going to remember to bring oil! Decision made.
I continued to hum to myself as I wound my way down the graveyard path. There were a couple of other mourners in the area, but none of them were close to the route I took. That was fine, though! Everyone was here to talk to someone important to them, after all. It was best to assume people wanted privacy during times like that.
It didn't take me long to spot the proper grave. Despite the squeaky gate, the church graveyard was actually a pretty fancy place! Almost every tombstone had some form of ornate design. Even my mom's grave marker couldn't escape that. It was a stone statue, carved to look like a tree.
I had actually wanted them to plant a real tree on her grave, but they said it was impossible. As it was, letting a commoner like my mom into the church's attached graveyard was a big deal. There were only so many plots within actual city limits, after all!
Or that's what they told me, anyway. Actually, I really wanted to bury my mother next to the cottage where we'd lived together, but Father Tuffel told me that wouldn't do. The Heroine's mother had to be buried properly, on sanctified land. So she was here, instead.
I stared morosely at the grave for a moment, then shook my head fiercely to try and cast off any negativity.
"Sorry mom," I apologized, putting on my brightest smile. "I came to update you on my life, and all I'm thinking about is death! That's not right."
My mom didn't answer, of course. There was no way she could! But I didn't need a verbal response to know that she was listening to me, just like Father Tuffel always said. She was always watching over me from heaven.
"Let's see… Where do I start?" I muttered, mostly to myself. "I've been beating up monsters a lot, so I'm way stronger than I was eight months ago! Father Tuffel says I won't see real growth until I go on the battlefield, but I think the fighting skills I'm picking up as an adventurer will help more than anything! Though I still have a long way to go…"
I paused and turned about in a circle to ensure there was absolutely no one near me. Then I crouched down next to the grave, cupped my hand to my mouth, and began to loudly whisper. "By the way, mom, I totally had sex! And I know, I know, the church says I'm not supposed to have sex without procreation, but everyone does it anyway! I just have to pay the proper fees at the church, and everything's okay, right? And it was totally worth it!"
I reached into my purse and pulled out a tin ingot. Taking hold of it in both hands, I poured magic into the metal and began to twist its shape. The speed of my sculpting caused the tin to get hot in my hands, but it wasn't enough to burn me. I could even stick my hand into a campfire without any issues, so this wasn't going to be a problem! Within moments, I had the perfect miniature sculpture of Eena.
"This is her," I told my mom. "Her name's Eena. And…" Again, I looked all around me, this time going so far as to suffuse some of my magic through the air. Once I was absolutely certain no one was listening, I again cupped my hand to my mouth and began to whisper, much softer than before. "I'm not sure she's human. I've never met anyone who can wield magic like she does. And she's even physically stronger than I am! It's super suspicious, but… I remember what you taught me. Demons are people, too. And I know Eena has a good heart! So, whatever she's doing in human lands, I want to help her."
I hesitated for a moment, and then added the words that had been weighing on my mind. "I really hope she isn't serving the Demon Queen, though… I know demons are just people, the same as us, but… She's the only one I can't forgive. I'm sure she's evil. In fact, she's probably the one who turned the demons against humans to begin with!"
Mom always told me that hatred was like poison for the soul. She believed that there was good in everyone, and I was sure she would say the same about the Demon Queen. But...I wasn't as strong as my mom had been.
I never wanted to fight. If the Demon Queen hadn't sent her assassins, I probably wouldn't be interested in going to war at all. But the Demon Queen already made the first move… I didn't like the rage that flowed through me when I thought of her, but I knew that I had to channel it into a force for justice.
"Don't worry, Mom. I'll make sure no one else has to go through what we did, ever again. I'll definitely take out the Demon Queen - no matter what!"
First off, acknowledgements: This chapter was edited by paradoxicalWitchling, and proofread by FallingLeaf.
Second, actual notes! Starting with the fact that when I originally thought up Sylvanna, I was actually planning to have quite a bit of fun with her, and her abilities, in the bedroom. Instead, I ended up with... Well, this! I can't say for certain, but I suspect she's the least popular character in the series. Maybe that'll change one day, but for now, all I can say is "OOF."
And then there's Lucy! This was my first time writing from her perspective, and I gotta say - it was fun. I especially enjoyed writing that last line. Definitely not because I'm evil, or anything~! ...Well, not beyond what's expected of a writer, anyway. c:
Anyway, I'll post the start of volume 2 tomorrow. I'm only a few chapters into it - 3 plus an interlude - but it's shaping up well, in my opinion. The volume will be focused partly on the human kingdom Devilla visited in volume 1, but there will still be chapters - and interludes with Abigail - devoted to the tower. It's also devoted in part to Devilla's childhood, so look forward to learning about that~!
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
In my experience, slimes these days are either the weakest monsters imaginable, or among the strongest beasts you can face. There is no in-between.
...Mostly because depictions of them are split between people who follow the original trope, and people who are purposefully inverting the trope. I kinda want to write a slime that's just average one of these days, just to mess around with people's expectations. But in this case, inverting it worked well for me.
My eyes tracked the kitsune's tail as it swayed back and forth. The hallways were full of beautiful paintings, opulent vases, and, of course, gorgeous maids, but my eyes stayed faithfully locked on this girl's tail. Its sway was almost hypnotic and watching it helped soothe my nerves as I was led toward the Demon Queen.
Or at least we were supposed to be going toward Queen Devilla. We weren't walking down the usual hallways. Even distracted by the tail, I could tell that much. After all, I'd walked those hallways countless times, bringing Devilla reports from throughout the tower.
Though maybe "reports" was a bit generous. She could call me the general of the fortieth floor. She could even declare me her spymaster, but it wasn't like I ever brought her any real information. That wasn't my job.
My job was to find out what people thought of the Queen. Every day I found a few spiders to take control of, sent them throughout the tower, and tapped into their senses at random intervals. If I heard someone talking about Devilla, I'd write down what they said on a slip of paper. Then I would push that slip through the slit of a locked wooden box. And once a week, without fail, Devilla would call on me to deliver that box to her throne room. She always had to know what people thought of her, no matter what - even though it was almost always bad.
Except, in the week and a half since Princess Devilla became Queen Devilla, she had yet to call me in even once. The slips of paper were piling up without anyone to read them, to the point where it was becoming an effort to fit more of them inside the box. Not only that, but the stories I heard about Queen Devilla lately were getting… weird.
Oh, there was still a lot of the usual stuff. Ill wishes, angry mutterings about how Queen Devilla didn't care about her people, and a lot of talk about how disappointed Queen Grimmilla would be if she could see her daughter now. And then there was the rumor that Devilla had gotten angry at the sun for outshining her and blasted a giant fireball at it. That really did sound like the Demon Queen I knew.
But then there was strange new gossip thrown into the mix. Like how the Queen had apparently left the tower, and brought home a new type of food? I had trouble wrapping my head around that one. It wasn't like her to do any work, let alone something that could help others, but it was true that a new vegetable had been introduced to the dryads' and goblins' growth rotation. Not only that, the other day salt began to appear in the market in large quantities. The first batch of it went fast, but over the last three days even more had come in and everything pointed to Queen Devilla being the source.
An even less believable rumor said that Queen Devilla had made friends with a servant. It was true that she'd gotten a personal maid, but there was absolutely no way Devilla was friends with the poor thing! In order to befriend someone, you first had to see them as your equal, or at least worthy of your time. I totally agreed with the rumors on this one: Devilla was just bullying a servant into acting like her friend.
What I couldn't figure out was why? Getting food for the tower, publicly treating this servant, Abigail, like she mattered - was the Demon Queen trying to change how people in the tower viewed her? But then why hadn't she ordered me to deliver my findings? Didn't she want to know if her trick was working?
Well, in the end, I wasn't going to get anywhere just wondering about it. That was why I'd chosen to take proactive measures. I'd made my own request to meet the Queen and gotten it approved. Now I was marching down the hallways of the hundred and first floor, on my way to meet her.
In theory. I still didn't recognize where we were.
"We're here," the maid declared, coming to a stop at the end of a hallway. Before me was a thick-looking wooden door, trimmed with gold. It was most definitely not the entrance to the throne room.
"Uh. Where is here, exactly?"
"The queen's bed chambers," the maid replied matter-of-factly, before rapping on the door.
"Wait, what!?" I cried out. I was supposed to meet the queen in her throne room. That was where I always met her! I wouldn't say I was comfortable there, but at least it was familiar territory. How the hell was I supposed to interact with the Queen in her own bedroom?
The doorknob turned before I could get an answer. I hastily put on a smile, ready to meet the personal maid I'd been hearing so much about, but when the door opened, it wasn't a servant standing on the other side.
It was Queen Devilla.
…Or at least it looked like Queen Devilla. She was wearing a lot more than she usually did when I saw her; a green top that fully covered her stomach, and barely showed any cleavage, as well as a black skirt that actually touched her knees. It was a weird look for her, but a quick glance confirmed that everything else about her was the same. Her straight white hair, which was long enough to brush against her well-cushioned ass, was as shiny as ever. Her purple eyes still had that glint of intelligence that I'd never actually seen her put to use. She was even still wearing her favorite pair of open-toed platform heels, colored black to match the tint of her nails. Every general knew that Queen Devilla would never be caught dead in anything less than three-inch heels and that she absolutely hated it when anyone brought up her real height.
"General Araina," she said, greeting me with a strained smile. "I apologize for the informality of our meeting - I'm trying to stick to a schedule."
"It's fine," I assured her, trying to hide my surprise at her apology. It wasn't like the Queen to admit any sort of flaw on her part, but then again, I never thought I'd see her opening her own door, either. What was going on here? "I-I only came by to deliver my weekly reports. They've been building up..."
"Re…. ports." Queen Devilla's eyes flicked to the box I was holding, and then back to me. The smile on her face widened slightly, but seemed even more tense from the effort. "Right. I had managed to completely forget about those… Burn them, would you?"
"B-burn them?" I echoed, my fake smile shattering into an expression of shock.
"That's right. And I'm ordering you to stop with surveillance while you're at it. I'm afraid I need to give some serious thought to your position…"
"S-stop the surveillance?" I mumbled back, barely able to form the words. What was happening? Was this part of the Queen's attempt to change her image? Had she come to the conclusion that a spymaster would only make her appear more deceitful?
But what about me? I needed this job. It was all I had left! My friends all abandoned me when it came out that I was spying on our people. Even the girl I was dating at the time called me scum to my face and broke up with me. I was probably the second least popular demon in the tower, all because Queen Devilla pressured me into taking this position.
And now I was at risk of losing it? It felt like my world was spinning. There was a tightness in my chest and this weird churning in my stomach. Queen Devilla was still speaking, but I could no longer hear her. The only thing going through my head was that I was about to lose everything.
"I… I need to get out of here," I murmured, backing up from the door.
"Are you alright?" Queen Devilla asked, frowning up at me. "Do you need healing?" Did she really think she could just pretend to be concerned, and everything would work out fine? That I would fall for whatever trick she was trying to play on the masses? I knew her too well for that.
"I'm fine," I lied. "Peachy. Great!" I spun away before the tears could spring from my eyes, and raced down the hallway, not bothering to wait for the kitsune maid.
"You're sure you have everything?" Abigail badgered. "The gems you wanted to sell? The emergency food supplies? Your tent?"
"I have everything," I promised, trying not to roll my eyes. Abigail was only acting this way out of concern for me, after all. As strong as I was, even I might run into trouble while all alone in human territory. If I was being absolutely honest, I was perhaps a touch nervous myself.
Still, this was a journey that had to be undertaken. My people had been pushed to the brink of extinction thanks to the humans' war against us. Our only chance at survival was making peace, and our only chance at doing that was to make a connection with the Heroine.
Technically, I still had three days left before my promised date with Lucy. I could stay and relax in the tower for a little bit longer if I wanted to, but I preferred to try and grasp the lay of the land before our meeting. Besides, I needed to make a pit stop before heading to Rendra City.
"What about teleportation magic?" Abigail pressed. "Have you mastered it?"
"Enough to cast the spell, at least," I assured her with a smile. It felt good knowing I'd no longer have to depend on others to activate the circles for me. "I've already set up a teleportation ring in my closet. Though, actually, I'm not sure it's completely necessary to have one. There are some things I'd like to try out when I have a moment."
"Devilla," Abigail said, her tone flat. She narrowed her pitch-black eyes at me. "Please tell me you aren't planning to mess around with magic that bends the very fabric of reality!?"
"Well, it sounds a lot more dangerous when you put it that way…"
"Devilla! No experimenting with teleportation magic! What if you end up trapped on the other side of Solla, or something?"
"I suppose I'd have to figure out what went wrong and try again."
"Be serious!" Abigail snapped, pointing angrily at me. "What do you think will happen to the rest of us if you just disappear like that? There are no guarantee things will go like they did in your 'game,' you know. We could all end up getting wiped out without you!"
"I wasn't entirely joking… But I do understand your point. I'll keep to traditional teleportation magic so long as I have a choice."
"Why doesn't that make me feel any better?" Abigail complained, cradling her head in her hands.
I was spared the need to answer by a knock at the door. Likely Araina, spymaster general of the fortieth floor. I wasn't sure what she wanted, but since she'd gone through the trouble of requesting an official audience with me, it was probably important.
Usually, I would meet a visiting general in my throne room, but I had yet to sit in that massive chair since officially becoming queen. While I used to perch there without a care in the world, I was now all too aware of the heavy responsibilities it represented and my own inadequacies in meeting them. I was hoping to avoid any official audiences in that room until I felt worthy of it.
I waved away Bailey, who was sniffing at the bottom of the door and turned the handle. I found myself staring into the blue eyes of a red-haired kitsune; one of my maids from her uniform. Possibly a new hire? I didn't recall seeing her before, but it was just as likely that she was a long-time employee I never really bothered to note the features of. Yet another thing to correct...
In any case, my current concern was the eight-legged woman standing behind the maid. She was an arachne: a woman with the upper body of a human and the bottom half of a spider. She was a sandy blonde, with kind-looking yellow eyes and rosy cheeks. She had a somewhat delicate, even dainty figure, with gently sloping curves and small breasts that were just barely big enough to fill one's hands. Not that I could see them beneath the sky blue blouse she wore, but, for better or worse, the image of her naked body was burned into my memories both from my recent coronation and from Jacob's memories of Tower Conquest.
And then there was her spider half. Where her upper form was pale, her lower carapace was almost pure black, except for a single white dot in the center of her upper side. It was a large, wide form that filled most of the hallway, in stark contrast to the small humanoid figure that sat where a normal spider's head would be.
"General Araina," I greeted her, smiling. Araina was doing the same, but her smile looked frozen in place as if she'd received a great shock. Well, not that I could say much about my own. I didn't have a lot of fond memories associated with any of my generals. "I apologize for the informality of our meeting - I'm trying to stick to a schedule."
Her eyes widened, and her smile came unstuck. "It's fine," she assured me. "I-I only came by to deliver my weekly reports. They've been building up..."
"Re … ports." I glanced at the wooden box she was clutching against her chest. I knew exactly what was in it, and it wasn't anything good. I forced myself to smile a bit wider, trying to hide my distaste for my past self's ego. "Right. I had managed to completely forget about those… Burn them, would you?"
That box contained nothing but negativity. I would destroy it myself, but I really did have to finish running things through with Abigail if I was going to leave today and to be honest, I didn't trust myself not to peek at the contents. I had already spent far too many nights locked in my room, breaking my self-esteem by reading exactly what other people thought of me. I didn't need to return to such self-destructive habits.
"That's right. And I'm ordering you to stop with surveillance while you're at it. I'm afraid I need to give some serious thought to your position…"
"S-stop the surveillance?" she mumbled back, barely audible even to my impressive hearing.
"You don't need to worry about your job, of course," I tried to reassure her. "But I do need to rethink your duties. I believe you were originally interested in joining the arachne communication relay? Perhaps I could put you in charge of that, or something similar."
"I… I need to get out of here," Araina murmured, backing away from me.
"Are you alright?" I asked, frowning. "Do you need healing?" She looked pale, even sickly; not exactly common for demons, who couldn't normally get ill if they tried.
"I'm fine," she insisted. "Peachy. Great!" Then she spun away and skittered down the hall.
"...If you'll excuse me," the kitsune maid dropped into a curtsy before turning to follow Araina.
I didn't bother responding, but simply stared down the hallway Araina had run through. It was obvious that I'd upset the woman, though I wasn't sure how. I would have thought her happy to be relieved of spying on her own people. It wasn't a job she'd ever sought out, and if she hadn't been buried in debt when I first met her, I doubt she would have accepted the position at all. I certainly hadn't made things easy on her, considering I made no effort to hide who was doing my spying.
Something odd was going through that girl's head. It didn't seem like she was in the mood to discuss it, but I'd have to find some time to talk to her soon. I did hope she wouldn't do anything stupid in the meantime, such as trying to peek in on me or Abigail. There were, of course, countermeasures against spider spying, but if I had to go that far then we already had a serious problem.
Perhaps it was best that I warn her away? Just in case? Though if she wasn't planning anything after all, that would only make things more awkward.
Then what about a warning she'd only come across if she tried spying? That was a bit more clever. Some sort of spider repellant, perhaps? My human mother, back when I was still Jacob, had been terrible with spiders. If I remembered correctly, she had a trick to keep them away. It wouldn't stop one under the direct control of an arachne of course, but if she came across something that was obviously meant as a deterrent, then Araina would likely get the message.
"Abigail?" I called out, closing the door. "While I'm gone, could you perhaps lay down some peppermint oil?"
My black wings beat against the air, stirring up dust on the dirt road as I slowed my descent enough to touch down. Getting ready had taken a little longer than anticipated, mostly because of Abigail. My loyal maid absolutely insisted on reviewing everything with me, from the items I planned to carry to the backstory I would give anyone who asked. She also took great pains to warn me against drawing attention to myself, as if that wasn't a given. Personally, I didn't think it would be much of an issue. The heroine was bound to attract far more attention than a nameless traveler in her company.
Somehow that didn't do much to relieve Abigail's worries, and in the end I wasn't able to fully banish her fears no matter how much I reassured her. Still, if going over things managed to help even a little then I considered it time well spent.
I'd landed just as the sun was beginning to set, the timing of which worked out in my favor. With the light of day leaving them behind, most humans would be wrapping up their work by now. That hopefully meant Lissera would be free to deal with me.
I dismissed my wings and made my way on foot past the outer wall which surrounded the fields. I didn't see anyone working them, so it seemed that my assumption about work hours was more or less correct. Humans didn't have the same night vision we demons boasted, after all.
When I reached the inner wall, I reached through the barred gate to undo the latch and stepped inside without a moment's hesitation. A few people, walking down the street as I entered the town, turned to look at me with suspicion as I navigated their simple security measures. One of the villagers, a blue-haired young man with green eyes, said something. The fickle wind blew most of his words in the wrong direction, but I was fairly certain I heard the name 'Eena' mentioned. After that, the stares seemed to change, shifting from suspicion to gentler, if no less intense, curiosity. Perhaps my reputation preceded me?
I smiled politely, then began to walk away. Abigail's warning aside, it was a little late for me to avoid drawing attention in this town. I didn't want to attract more of it than needed, though, especially with my disguise in its current state. We didn't have ready stores of hair dye in the tower, and I wouldn't have been able to secure any without drawing questions. As such, I was simply using a spell to make my tresses appear brown. I had plenty of magic left in me, and there was little risk of me dropping the spell by accident, but there was always a chance that something would catch me off guard. Not to mention the fact that I couldn't cast any other magic while I was maintaining this spell.
A few more people's gazes swung towards me as I made my way down the street, but I did my best not to make eye contact with any of them. Fortunately for me, Lissera's home was close to the outer wall. Unfortunately for me, the small size of the town meant that word of my arrival was spreading quickly. Instead of suspicious glares or surprised looks, I was getting friendly waves. I was used to being recognized, but it was a little strange to see recognition repeatedly turn to happiness instead of revulsion. My cheeks were starting to tinge pink under the attention.
I ducked my head down and pretended not to notice. Even when someone called out to me, I refused to turn around. If anything I picked up my pace, knowing I was only a few steps away from Lissera's home and my own safety. The voice had come from some distance away in any case, so it was easy enough to pretend I hadn't heard it, but even as I stepped up to the house I heard the sound of hurried footsteps as someone raced after me, apparently desperate for my attention.
"Eena!"
I recognized that voice. I spun away from Lissera's house to see Lissera herself, bent over and clutching at her thighs, breathing heavily. She held up a finger, then dropped her hand back to her leg again. I waited patiently as she caught her breath, then closed her eyes, stood up straight, and appeared to settle herself.
Then she glared at me.
"Why didn't you stop?!"
"I don't suppose we could discuss this inside?" I requested, glancing meaningfully around us. Up until that point most people had only smiled and waved at me in passing, but with Lissera stopping me in front of her house to shout at me several of them had actually paused to gawk.
Lissera, noticing the direction of my gaze, opened her mouth into a small "O" of surprise. "Huh… Never took you for the shy type. It's cute, though."
"I am not shy," I grumbled, crossing my arms defensively. "I simply don't think it's a good idea for me to attract attention. I thought you, of all people, would understand that." I lowered my voice to a whisper for that last part. It was possible someone could overhear me, with magic, but that was precisely why I kept my words vague.
"I think it's a little late for that… But if you really want to escape your fans, then come on in." She grabbed ahold of my arm and led me into her home.
It was small inside, just as I remembered. The house was comprised largely of a bedroom, which was mostly filled by a double-sized bed. Still, it felt much more spacious than it had when I'd been trapped in the room with Lucy. It was a bit hard to see her as a threat, now that I'd gotten used to her, but coming face to face with the Heroine for the first time really hadn't been great for my heart.
"So what can I do for you, Eena?" Lissera asked, smiling brightly. "I mean, if you just want your potatoes, you should see the Village Head."
"The Village Head?" I asked, tilting my head to one side. I hadn't come across anyone with that title during my last visit.
"She was laid up in bed last time you visited," Lissera explained. "She's pretty old and doesn't leave her house much. But she wanted to thank you in person anyway."
"Perhaps another time," I told her, shaking my head. I wanted to build good relations with this town, but meeting with the leadership of a village seemed a serious step. I'd want to be properly prepared - and properly dressed, too. I was wearing more than usual, in a vague attempt to mimic human modesty, but it was still a far cry from their formal wear. Not that I was entirely certain what humans wore when meeting those in power, but I somehow doubted that they'd go with a backless green top or a skirt that barely brushed their knees.
"I'm not here for potatoes, in any case."
"You're not?" Lissera ran a hand through her hair, looking at me almost nervously. "Then what are you here for? We're just a farming village, you know. We don't exactly have a lot to offer a literal queen."
"You'd be surprised," I muttered back. I didn't wish to discuss the state of the demon tower with a human, no matter how friendly she might be, but the truth was that we were lacking in certain key resources, such as salt and other minerals. While we weren't entirely without luxury goods, especially in the upper echelons, there were certain things one simply couldn't get at a moment's notice. Especially not if they were trying to avoid attracting undue attention.
"I require hair dye. Preferably of the same shade you used when last I was here. I… Do not have any human currency as of yet, but if you can accept a gem in trade, or if you're willing to let me pay you back down the line, I would very much appreciate it. It would be even better if you could teach me how to make my own, but I'm aware that might be asking a bit much."
"It was just walnut dye, Eena. It's pretty easy to make - you break up some walnuts, boil them in water, simmer them for about an hour, and then let the liquid cool overnight. I'll borrow some of my mom's supply, again - she always makes way too much of it, anyway."
"That would be appreciated," I told Lissera, allowing my shoulders to slump a little as a tension I didn't even realize I was holding left me. "And as for your preferred method of payment?"
"Geeze, don't worry about that! Like I said last time, Eena, you're the hero who saved my town. Helping you not get mobbed while traveling human lands is the least I can do. Even if I am sort of nervous about what you might be doing away from the demon tower…"
"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. Not that I expect you to take me at my word alone."
"No. I trust you. Or rather, I'm choosing to trust you? I mean, you could have turned us all into demons or had monsters devour us whole, but instead, you put yourself at risk to save our town! And I'm… I'm still sorting out what that really means, to be honest? But I want to believe you aren't as bad as Mother Reliz says you are."
I was silent for a long moment, not quite certain what to say. Lissera was trying to believe in me. She was fighting against what she had been told her entire life, on the basis of a single good deed. But to think that we would still be this far away from properly understanding each other…
"There's a lot I want to say to that, but I suppose I should start by thanking you for your trust. You will have to decide for yourself what sort of person I am, but for now, I hope I can leave the matter of walnut dye in your capable hands?"
"Of course! Just wait here. I'll tell everyone you only have time to stop by for a quick visit - maybe make up some excuse about you having to meet the Heroine. Someone started a rumor that you joined her party? So maybe they'll believe that…"
"I am meeting Lucy, actually, though I wouldn't go so far as to say I've joined her party. I have no intention of charging into Dimona Tower at her side, in any case."
Lissera, who had been reaching for the doorknob, suddenly froze in her tracks and turned back toward me, her motions so stiff I could practically hear her creak. "You're… Meeting up with the Heroine again? …You call the Heroine… Lucy?"
"It is her name. I'm fairly certain she'd prefer more people use it."
"B-But she's the Heroine!" Lissera protested, voice rising several octaves. "She was chosen by the goddess to… To… Well…"
"Kill me?" I finished for her, frustration leaking into my gaze.
Lissera's gaze dropped to the ground, and a conflicted expression crossed her features. Her mouth opened, only to shut again, her lips pressed tightly closed as if she were trying to keep the words from leaving her throat.
"I… I'm going to go get the walnut dye," she said at last, turning back toward the door and hurrying outside.
I watched Lissera leave, sighing when the door closed behind her. It was becoming clear to me that I'd been too optimistic about her. She had helped me; considering I was unconscious for three days, with the Heroine present, one could even go so far as to say that she had saved my life. As weak as Lucy currently was compared to me, I couldn't say I'd have come out unscathed if she'd had access to my unmoving body. I wanted to pay Lissera back for that someday.
But to her, I was the Demon Queen, the bringer of doom upon her world. I could tell she was trying hard not to see me that way, but it was always there in the back of her mind. She was scared of me and worried about what I might be planning. In the worst case, she might decide that I was a threat to humanity's precious Heroine and opt to turn me into the Village Head.
"Perhaps it would be best if I just left," I muttered to myself, staring at the door. To be fair, it wasn't as if I were in any danger. Even if the whole town came after me, I could simply fly into the sky where they wouldn't be able to follow. Even if I waded out among the hypothetical mob, I rather doubted any of them had the strength to actually injure me.
But I didn't want to witness it. I didn't want to see the happy faces of these townsfolk twisted in hatred and fear. I could already imagine the panic as they ran away from me, pointing up at the black-winged figure who had come to savage their livestock and corrupt their souls. So what if I had saved them? I was only a few days earlier than the Heroine, and being rescued by her might have put them on the map again. What had I really done for them, in the end? Merely killed some wolves. That couldn't possibly be enough to overturn a lifetime of the church's propaganda, let alone millennia of bitter feuding. I knew how to make the walnut dye. It was best that I simply left before anyone noticed.
I took a hesitant step toward the door. I doubted I would ever have the courage to visit Derrin Village again, and yet I still hoped that the townsfolk would remember me fondly. To that end, I would have to deal with the crowd during my exit just as I had during my entrance. Word would probably spread quickly that I was leaving. Perhaps Lissera would hear about it before she even reached the Village Head? That would be best.
I was perhaps a foot away from the door when I heard a high-pitched squeak, coming from the direction of the kitchen. It was a small noise, but in the silence of the house it sounded as loud as thunder.
My head snapped to the side, and my hands clenched themselves into trembling fists. That sound. I knew that sound. There was no way I could ever forget what that creature sounded like, nor would I ever mistake it for one of its harmless cousins. And sure enough, when I turned my gaze to the floor, there it was. A rather large specimen, measuring perhaps a foot in length, with another eleven inches of naked tail stretching out behind it. It had dirty brown fur and little pink feet that looked like creepy little hands. It stared at me with its beady black eyes, and despite my best efforts, I could not tear my gaze from it. I was terrified that it would dart off to who knows where the moment I turned away.
I do not know how long we stared at each other, caught in that awful stalemate. It made the first move though, and in so doing made its first mistake. The moment it turned away from me, I held out a hand and blasted electricity from my palm toward the horrid thing. Literally traveling as fast as lightning, it should have been impossible for the creature to dodge. Perhaps the shaking in my hand was what caused my aim to be off, for I only succeeded in scorching the woven rushes that were laid upon Lissera's floor.
The detestable thing stiffened in response to my attack. It didn't move, didn't blink, didn't even breathe. I had more than enough time for another shot, but my hand wouldn't stop trembling. If I was careless I could light Lissera's house on fire. Not the goodbye gift I wanted to leave her.
I forced myself to calm down and think. Rationally, I didn't need to kill it. I was fleeing this house anyway, so it would be enough to merely remove it from my field of vision. Then I could work on regaining composure and bleaching the sight of it from my brain. I was sure there was a way to drive it off, but the icy terror gripping my heart was making it rather difficult to think. Perhaps I should simply use less flammable attacks? I had been hoping to reduce it to an unrecognizable lump of ash. But if I couldn't vaporize it then I'd settle for making it very obviously dead.
Not taking my eyes off the foul beast, I cast my magic down toward the earth beneath my feet. Not wanting the creature to sense my spell, I moved the energy underground until it was right below the thing. Then I pulled my magic upward, manipulating the earth to drive a spike into my foe.
Somehow, though, that crafty creature sensed the danger and jumped to the side at the last second! What's more, the attack seemed to jolt it out of its fear, and it began to scurry. Not away, as I had hoped, but straight toward me! My entire body trembled, my legs barely capable of holding me upright. I shot blast after blast of compressed air after the beast, but my attacks were wild and succeeded in nothing but tearing up the rushes underfoot. The beast scampered closer and closer, and yet still my attacks wouldn't connect, until finally, it was running past my foot, its pink tail striking my ankle.
The world started to go black. A high pitch scream tore itself from my throat as my legs collapsed, and I fell to my knees. I was dimly aware that I had destroyed the rushes by my feet, meaning that I was now kneeling in dirt. I would need to wash up at the earliest opportunity, though that was a given, considering what had just touched me. The mere thought caused me to wail, as hot tears began to slip from my eyes.
"Eena?" A familiar voice called out from above me. My eyes slowly opened to stare at the tiled ceiling. I realized with a start that I was lying on the floor, bits of plant matter plastered against my face and hair. I vaguely remembered curling up to try and stop the sobbing before Lissera returned. I must have passed out from there. "Eena, are you okay? What happened? The floor's an absolute mess!"
"The beast," I whispered, looking up at Lissera. "Did you see what happened to it?"
"You mean that giant rat? It squeezed under a crack in the door right before I got here. Is that what has you on the floor?"
"Don't say its name," I hissed, flinching at the word. "You might call it back, or something…"
Lissera stared down at me; her confused expression took up the majority of my vision. "Eena. Are you… Scared of-"
"Don't say it!" I snapped. Lissera took a step backward in surprise, and I blushed bright pink from embarrassment and shame. "I… Apologize. I shouldn't have yelled. It's hardly an excuse, but I have… issues with that particular species of rodent. Just hearing its proper name is unpleasant."
"But… Eena… Aren't you the Demon Queen? The only thing that can defeat you is the Heroine, right? Why are you so scared of some ra…" She paused, no doubt noticing how I winced at her half-spoken word. "Rodents. Why are you so scared of rodents?"
"It is difficult to explain... I don't suppose you'd simply accept that I have a history with them?"
"Eena, you ruined my floor. I think I at least deserve to know why!"
"…I suppose you're right," I begrudgingly admitted, slowly getting back onto my feet. "Though it's not exactly a story I wish to see spread. It is simply that I was bitten on the ear by a rat when I was still a child before my invulnerability was fully in effect. The wound grew infected, and there was even some concern that I might lose part of the ear. It all worked out in the end, of course, but I've been rather terrified of the things ever since…"
The words I spoke were true, in a sense. The event really had happened as I described, but there had never been a period in this life where I was so defenseless that a mere rat could have broken my skin with its teeth. The events I described were from Jacob's life, and the infection in question had been bad enough to permanently reduce his hearing in one ear.
To think that trauma would haunt me across worlds and lifetimes. How frighteningly persistent.
"Wow," Lissera breathed, bringing me back to the present. "That must have been terrible if you're still dealing with it after all this time…"
"It was unpleasant, to say the least, though that is an ill excuse for what I've done to your floor…"
"It's fine, Eena! I just need to replace some rushes. Though if you could maybe fix what you did to the ground…?"
"Ah…" I quickly placed my hand on the floor and sent my magic out toward the earthen spike I'd formed earlier. After pulling it back into the ground, I pushed off the floor, myself, using another spell to quickly rid myself of dirt. "Apologies."
"I said it's fine, Eena! If you want to make it up to me though, you could consider making some time to meet with the Village Head."
"Again with that? I suppose I could do so, since you're so insistent, but are sure it's a good idea to put me so close to your village's leader? I am the Demon Queen. I might do something awful to them." I forced myself to smile as if it were a joke, but I was watching Lissera's reaction carefully. Would she deny that she saw me as a threat? Or would it finally spill out into the open?
"...You really have no faith in me, do you?" Lissera asked, looking down at the ground. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I told you, didn't I? I'm choosing to trust in the woman who saved my town. And I don't really know if it's the right move or not. Maybe you really are as bad as Mother Reliz says you are. Maybe saving my town, collapsing, everything has just been a plot to do something horrible to the Heroine. Maybe… Maybe I'm betraying the whole world, helping you? But…" She took a deep breath, then lifted her gaze back up to meet mine. "But I'm going to put myself in your corner, anyway. And if the whole world burns because of my mistake, then so be it. Because I won't ever betray the one who saved the people I care about. Not ever."
I stared at Lissera, not entirely certain what to say. Her response was a little childish, perhaps, but it also seemed open and honest. How was I supposed to respond to her, in light of my own doubts about her? I felt foolish and ashamed, and in the end, the only thing I could do was nod.
"I-I'll make time for your Village Head tonight, and head to Rendra city in the morning."
"That's great!" Lissera rejoiced, grinning so brightly it almost hurt to look at. "Now maybe I won't have to sit through another lecture…"
I balked. "A lecture? That's why you're so determined to have me see her?"
"You have no idea what it's like to sit through a three-hour lecture on proper village etiquette. Apparently, you should have been staying with her, not me, and I should have introduced you before letting you go out to fight the wolves."
"I… see…" I murmured, fighting to keep the worry from my face. Three-hour lectures? Just what sort of stamina did this sickly old woman have?
"Anyway, if you're going to go see her, you're probably going to need this," Lissera said, reaching into a pocket in her dress and pulling out a glass bottle, filled with a dark brown liquid. "It's pretty concentrated, so this should be enough. Any more and mom would notice the drop in her vat, so you'll need to make your own from now on."
"Vat?" I asked, uncorking the bottle and taking a sniff. I almost expected a chemical smell, but it was only the pleasant scent of walnuts that tickled my nose.
"That's right," Lissera confirmed. "My mom is a seamstress, and my dad is a tailor. And since mom often dyes clothes for the job, they have a whole vat of this stuff."
"Convenient." I channeled my magic into the vial, pulling every last drop of liquid from the glass vessel. It floated up above my head, and then descended down in a trickle upon my hair, slipping down among my tresses as I magically forced the pigment to bond with each strand.
"I think that's my line… I mean, I'd be exhausted in an instant if I tried using magic like you do."
"I suppose we'll simply have to be jealous of one another then," I teased, then let out a short laugh. "How do I look? Did I get everything?" I spun myself around so that she could see the back of my head.
"Every strand!" she confirmed, astonished. "I've never seen anyone's hair take to it so well! It's literally the same color as the walnuts."
"I suppose it's due to my hair having no pigment of its own," I theorized, running my fingers through my hair. Hopefully, my precise mimicking of the dye wouldn't lead to anyone seeing through my disguise. It wasn't as if I could change the coloration after Lucy had already seen it.
"Now, if you wouldn't mind leading me to your Village Head?"
"It's the tallest building in the village," Lissera informed me, shrugging as she gestured in its vague direction out the window. "You really can't miss it."
"Good. Then you should have an easy time guiding me there." I insisted, refusing to move from my spot.
"No, really, it's not the sort of thing you'd need a guide for. Just walk down the road toward the center of town. You couldn't miss it if you tried!" Her smile seemed a little strained, and there was an edge of panic in her voice.
"Why do I get the impression that you don't wish to guide me?"
"I don't want to get a lecture on 'proper dress for a lady' after you're gone!" Lissera complained, her smile breaking apart like waves on sharp rocks as she lifted her hands to clutch at her ears. "It's almost as bad as the lecture I'll get if I let you go without seeing her! I'm telling you, there's no way for me to win here!"
"Then I suggest you accept your fate with grace and show me the way. Running will only make it worse, no?"
"Urk…" From the grimace on Lissesra's face, I'd hit the nail on the head. "You can only say stuff like that because it doesn't affect you, dammit!"
"True," I conceded. "Which is why I won't stop you from slipping away when we get close enough, but I will have you guide me." Truthfully, I simply didn't wish to wander around town by myself. I seemed to be oddly popular in this village, and the discrepancy between who I was and how they saw me was uncomfortable. Even if Abigail was right about my worth, I still wasn't the hero they saw me as. A true heroine was someone like Lucy, who risked her life for what she believed in, with no expectation of reward. All I had done was inconvenience myself for the sake of some potatoes.
"Fine…" Lissera let out an exaggerated sigh, then held out a hand.
"I don't need to be led around like a child," I protested, starting to walk past her toward the door. To my surprise, however, Lissera grabbed hold of my hand as I passed her, squeezing my fingers.
"That's not it," she said, shaking her head. "This is my… payment. If I'm going to get lectured for three hours or more, the least you can do is let me hold a pretty girl's hand."
"A pretty girl's…?" I stared at her, baffled. "You can't tell me you're still hoping to bed me? I know I keep saying this, but I am the Demon Queen, you know."
"Maybe? I'm not sure how bedding you would work, to be honest. I mean, putting aside you being literally made of sin, I don't know what I'd do with the whole mouth and tentacle thing you've got going on down there."
"Made of…? Mouth and tentacles!?" I pressed my free hand to my forehead. Even though I knew it was impossible, I sincerely felt that I was starting to get a headache. I was definitely going to have to look into the church's teachings, and soon. I was tired of getting caught off guard by the lies they told about me.
"If you think I'm so disgusting, why do you even want to hold my hand?"
"I never said you were disgusting! Just different. But there's a line in the holy scriptures that says the best way to understand someone different from you is to take their hand and realize you aren't so different after all. When I feel your fingers with my own, it's hard to think of you as evil, or gross. You're just another pretty girl holding my hand."
I stared at her for a long moment, not sure what to say. From the earnest look in her eyes, I could tell that she meant every word she said… for better or worse.
"Lissera," I said, at last, speaking slowly and deliberately. "I do not have tentacles. Or a second mouth. The only thing 'down there' is my vagina, plain and simple."
"Huh? Really?"
"Really," I insisted, choosing to ignore the mix of doubt and disappointment I heard in her voice. "And I'm not 'literally made of sin' either. I was born to parents, the same as you. You might remember me mentioning my childhood?"
"I thought you meant right after you… 'formed'," Lissera admitted, shyly glancing away from me.
"I meant what I said. The question is whether you can say the same. Even if you've accepted that I'm not pure evil, you can't accept that I might be good, can you? You don't want to think that everything you've ever learned might be a lie."
"I-I'm trying, Eena. I'm honestly, seriously trying! But even if everything the church says is wrong, I still don't know what's right. How can I tell the truth from falsehood when I don't know anything about you?"
"Did you ever consider asking?" I countered, anger simmering just beneath my words. "You might find it works wonders."
"Then next time I'll ask you," Lissera promised. "But for this time, can I just hold your hand?"
"Why?" I challenged, gritting my teeth as I tried to hold back my tongue. "Because of some line in the scriptures? It doesn't even make sense! What could you possibly get from holding hands with someone like me?"
"It's not just a line! It's a reminder to look for commonalities between people. We both have ten fingers, right? And we both feel warm to the touch. We're both here, in Solla, touching each other's hands! So… maybe it's not so impossible for us to understand each other after all..."
"...Do what you will," I uttered darkly, turning to walk out the door. Despite my cold words, there was a faint flicker of warmth in my heart. Lissera and I were still worlds apart from truly understanding one another, but the fact that she was trying gave me some hope.
"Hey, wait a second," Lissera protested, hurrying to get out the door ahead of me. "There's no point in me guiding you if you're leading the way, you know!"
"Then be a good guide and take me all the way to your Village Head."
"There's absolutely no way I'm doing that!" Lissera boldly declared, dragging me down the dirt road. It seemed that the village was somewhat starved for strangers because I started drawing attention again the moment I was past Lissera's door. No one called out to me, however, and I ducked my head, moving past them as quickly as I could and forcing Lissera to move even faster to keep ahead of me.
"And, stop!" Lissera called out, lifting my hand alongside hers to indicate a house. "You see that big house three doors down? That's her place. Just knock on the door, and she'll let you right in."
"Very well," I relented, pulling my hand from Lissera's grasp. "May we meet again when next I visit."
"You mean you're not going to come back to my place for the night?"
She looked crestfallen, but I still gave her a firm shake of my head. Spending the night with Lissera likely meant her attempting to sleep with me, and I wasn't sure I wanted that. It wasn't as if I hated her or anything, and I certainly didn't object to casual sex… Sleeping with her might be a good way to convince her we weren't so different from one another, for that matter. But, truthfully, her treatment of me so far hadn't really put me in the mood.
"I'll be heading back out into the woods to make some walnut dye tonight," I informed her, hoping to mollify her.
"And after? You're not going to be sleeping outside, are you?"
"Don't worry about me," I insisted. "I can look after myself just fine."
I could feel Lissera's eyes lingering on my back as I walked toward the Village Head's house. I didn't turn to face her, though, and instead knocked upon the wooden door.
"One moment!" I could hear the age in the hoarse voice that called out, but also a definite firmness and strength, like that of a grand old oak.
The door opened a few moments later, revealing a very small woman; she couldn't have been more than five foot three. She was wizened with age, bent forward and leaning on a gnarled wooden cane. Her face was wrinkled with frown lines. Surprisingly, for all that, there wasn't a hint of grey in her hair. It was brown, and a shade very near my own at that.
"Well, what do we have here?" she drawled, her sharp yellow eyes locked upon me. "If it isn't the adventurer who saved our town. How nice of you to finally come pay me a visit."
"I-"
"Well, come on in," she interrupted, turning back around and gesturing for me to follow her. Despite being hunched over and reliant on a cane, she moved with surprising speed and soon disappeared into the house. That left me hesitating in the doorway, uncertain how to proceed.
"Come on in, I said! You trying to let the flies in?"
"Apologies," I answered, trying not to roll my eyes as I entered the house and shut the door behind me. After walking through the parlor, I found myself in what appeared to be a dedicated dining room, with a large table and several chairs set about it. Two bowls had been placed on the table, one at the head and one at the upper right seat. "Were you expecting someone? I can come back later, if so."
"I was expecting you," the Village Head snapped, pulling out the chair at the head of the table with a little more force than necessary, before dropping herself into it. "And a lot earlier, at that! The food's grown cold waiting. It's been sitting here since I first heard you'd wandered back into town! What sort of hero doesn't come to visit the Village Head first thing? Bad enough you left the first time without so much as a hello or goodbye!"
"I never claimed to be a hero," I corrected her. "And you can lay the blame at the feet of your own townsfolk for my not showing up last time. They rather neglected to mention an authority figure when we were making our deal."
"And what sort of town wouldn't have a leader, hmm? We might be small, but we're not that much of a backwater."
I looked away, having no answer to that. I couldn't tell her I was so unfamiliar with human government that the thought had simply never occurred to me.
"Well, done is done I suppose," the Village Head sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "If you're finished making excuses, you should settle down and eat."
"Did you not have something to discuss with me?" I probed, settling into what was apparently my chair and poking at the food with my spoon in annoyance. The lumpy white food looked familiar, though not from this lifetime. "Are these mashed potatoes?"
"Oh? It seems you really do know your potatoes. That's right. These are mashed potatoes - with a little butter, and some salted pork too. It's as luxurious a meal as I can manage, though it would have been better hot…"
"It's not a problem," I calmly assured the Village Head, focusing my gaze on her bowl. After a moment, steam began to rise from the top of her meal, and I shifted attention back to my own.
The Village Head frowned at my display, then poked at the potatoes with her spoon. "Huh. You move the heat source around during the heating or something? You managed to warm the whole thing without burning anything. Still not as good as a consistently heated meal, though."
"Is that so?" I murmured, wondering if perhaps I had made a mistake of some sort. For humans, with their limited magic, allowing the warmth to spread from a handful of spots was no doubt the most efficient way of reheating a meal. But I'd chosen to prioritize taste instead, and had simply heated the whole bowl in one go. It seemed that the Village Head noticed it too because she let out a small grunt and narrowed her eyes at me.
"Well. Maybe there's some truth to you taking out all those wolves with magic, after all," she muttered between bites of potatoes. She ate as fast as she moved, and within a few minutes, her bowl was empty.
I, meanwhile, had only taken a few bites. Truthfully, even with the salted pork and butter, the food was rather bland. Now that I was over the sheer excitement of eating actual potatoes, I couldn't help but think I'd prefer a properly seasoned meal. Perhaps something with a little spice? I had quite a few meals packed away in my Empty Bag, and I really wished I could pull out a hot plate of fries.
"Not your thing, is it? I'd think someone who'd save a town for potatoes would be more than a little interested in a meal made of them."
"I have my own preferences for their preparation. Perhaps I'll introduce you to them someday, Miss Village Head." I smiled as I spoke, forcing myself to take another tasteless bite.
"Alorie," the Village Head corrected, reaching across the table to grab my bowl and pull it toward her.
I stared at her in surprise, unsure what to say. She'd been rude throughout the evening, but this seriously took the cake. Before I could say anything, however, she again began to speak.
"The name's Alorie. And if you're not going to enjoy your food, then you should give it to someone who will. That's just common manners, isn't it?"
"I wonder about that," I muttered, wondering if I should kick up a fuss. It was true that I had other food, but surely she had no way of knowing that? I was worried that if things kept going this way she would end up walking all over me.
"Look, let's go straight for the tower, here," Alorie said, pushing aside my bowl. She'd already eaten half of it, somehow.
"Excuse me?"
"It means to get to the point. Thought someone as well-traveled as you would know that. But to follow through - what would it take to get you to stay here for a few weeks?"
"Stay here for…?" I shook my head. "I'm afraid that's impossible. The Heroine is expecting me in Rendra city before long."
"The Heroine, is it?" Alorie questioned. "I did hear you two were traveling together when you left. If you really did beat up those wolves, it's no wonder the Heroine became interested in your strength. I'm sure she's looking for all the help she can get defeating that thrice-damned Demon Queen… Looks like her gain is our loss, though."
I kept my expression steady as she spoke, even as she cursed my name. This much was nothing, really. I knew how humans viewed me, though I was growing a little weary from all the reminders.
"Can I ask why you need me? Maybe I can still assist." It wasn't as if I were obligated to help a bunch of people who hated me. No matter how often I rescued them, they would no doubt continue to curse my name. Still, I had made inroads here, and if I truly wished to make peace with humans in the long run I would likely need whatever toeholds I could make.
"I'm surprised you don't know, considering how close you are to the Heroine," Alorie remarked, snorting. "The church decided not to send us a new guard."
"A new guard?" I asked. "You mean for the town?"
"For the church," Alorie clarified. "Though I suppose you could say for the town as well. Guessing you haven't been to many small towns like this, but out in the boonies, church guards are the first and often last line of defense we have. They kill off the smaller monsters that try to make trouble, and they stand in the way of bigger threats until adventurers can be called to handle them. Or at least they're supposed to. Ours ran off before you even got here - guess twenty wolves was a bit much for him."
"And the church won't replace him?"
"It might have something to do with the letters I sent to the city. Something about calling them all incompetent baboons who can't tell a proper candidate from a basic thug didn't go over too well, I suppose. But they're claiming we insulted the Heroine, instead. Apparently, she didn't take too kindly to us giving the job to some unregistered adventurer when she was already on her way here."
"I can assure you that's not the case. You had no way of knowing Lucy was coming, and she's hardly the sort to judge someone for trying to survive."
"...So you call the Heroine 'Lucy', do you? Awfully chummy with the chosen one of the Goddess, don't you think?"
"I was taught it was polite to call your acquaintances by name, Alorie. Perhaps we were taught differently in such matters?" I kept my tone light, almost mocking, trying to hide the irritation I felt. The title of Heroine sounded fancy, but it referred to nothing more or less than a cog in the angel's war machine. Lucy deserved to be seen as her own person, not merely as an embodiment of that awful title.
Alorie scowled at my words. "Well, do as you will. I'm not the one who's risking the chill of Hell. But you're right about one thing: No one chosen by the Goddess would be as petty as Father Molae is claiming. He's just trying to make us scrape and bow for forgiveness. I thought maybe if we had you protecting us for a few weeks, I could put the screws to him - say we might not need a church presence after all."
"It's certainly a courageous plan. But if it's only a bluff, surely the townsfolk can protect themselves for a few weeks? I would hope at least some of them know how to fight."
"Most of them, actually." A small, prideful smile flitted across Alorie's face. "Part of our old guard's job was teaching people how to defend themselves. And my people took to it well - there's a strength in them you won't see in any big city folk. A determination to do whatever it takes to survive. But determination will only get you so far, little miss hero."
"My name is Eena. And I don't understand. If they have the capacity and the will, then what's stopping them?"
"Weapons. Or a lack of them, anyway. Oh, we've got some pitchforks, some scythes, a couple of beaten-up spears, and a rusty sword or two, but nothing that can take on a pack of wolves. If something comes after us, and we've got no guard, we could all be wiped out before an adventurer even hears the news."
"I see… That would be a problem." I kept my face carefully neutral as I thought things over. Weapons, hmm? I was sure the tower had plenty. It was rare for me to visit the armory, and I'd certainly never paid much attention to its contents, but I had no doubt that it was well stocked. With all the losses that we'd suffered in our retreat to the tower, we likely had more weapons than we could use, even if I failed in my goals and things came to war.
Still, arming humans wasn't something to do on a whim. It would be one thing if they truly wanted to break away from the church, but I wasn't about to empower a town loyal to my enemies. Though letting this village get wiped out would leave a bad taste in my mouth...
Well, perhaps I could talk to Abigail about it when next I saw her.
"You're being awfully quiet," Alorie accused. "Something on your mind?"
"Nothing vital," I assured her, forcing a smile as I stood. "Thank you for the food."
"You aren't planning to head out, are you?" Alorie demanded, her lips curling into a disapproving frown. "It's getting dark out."
"I'll be fine. I have somewhere in mind to stay for the night." I moved toward the door, letting the smile drop from my face as I turned away from her.
"Well, alright. But be careful with Lissera, you hear? That girl pays more penance for sex than anyone else in this village, and everyone in town knows you're on her list."
"I'll keep that in mind," I replied, mentally adding sex penances to the list of things I needed to investigate. Of course, I wasn't planning to sleep with Lissera in any case, but I couldn't tell Alorie that I was passing up her hospitality for the chance to sleep in the woods, even if it was simply because I needed to make more hair dye.
I stepped out of Alorie's house before the Village Head could add any more warnings, closing the door behind me and hurrying down the street. I headed toward the opposite end of town from where I'd entered, fumbling momentarily with the simple lock before opening the gate and slipping through. I walked past the fields, beyond the second wall, and followed the road among the trees until a bend in the path obstructed the town from view. Then I moved off to the side of the road, took a deep breath, and began to let my magic flow.
My goal was walnuts. By focusing my magic energy into four walls around me, and then slowly expanding those walls outward, I could detect all the walnuts in the area. Then, pulling the walls back, I pulled the walnuts out from the trees and up from the ground, causing them to fly through the air and roll across the earth to land at my feet.
The second part was even simpler than the first. I reached into my Empty Bag for a large pot and placed it on the ground. Then I used my magic to gather up clumps of walnuts and crush them, dumping them all into the pot. Once I had them all inside, I pulled some water from the humid night air and dumped it in the pot as well, using my magic to heat it to a boil and then lowering the temperature of my spell to bring it down to a simmer.
Staring at the pot and waiting for the dye to finish cooking proved a boring task. Sitting myself down on the ground, I reached again into my Empty Bag, pulling out a plate of fries that were still hot from the oven. I followed that up with a romance book and began to read while I ate.
When I judged that about an hour had passed, I put my book away, released my heat spell, and placed my hand on the ground. Taking hold of the earth beneath me with my magic, I dragged three walls of dirt and stone from the soil and enclosed the pot within them, making sure to leave gaps for airflow. That would be more than enough to keep the pot safe and still for an evening.
"And now it's my turn…" I shot another pulse of magic through the earth, forming three walls of earth beside my little pyramid, and then adding a roof. I walked through the opening and, with a wave of my hand, sent ripples through the 'floor' of my makeshift hut, smoothing out the ground into a solid, flat surface. Kneeling, I dug back into my Empty Bag and withdrew a rolled-up quilted mattress, which I unfurled on the ground. Since I seemed largely immune to the effects of heat and cold, I didn't need a blanket, just something soft to lie on for the night.
I was about to crawl inside and raise the final wall of my shelter, to close myself in for the night, when I heard a familiar voice calling out to me.
"Eena!? Eena, are you out here?"
"Lissera!?" I called back, not bothering to hide the shock in my voice. "What are you doing out here?"
The light of a lantern swung toward me, a familiar smile illuminated by its glow. "I brought you my blanket! I thought you might be cold? You can just drop it back off in the morning, so don't worry about that!"
"You should wrap it around yourself, instead. I barely feel the cold."
"...Oh. Well, maybe you could use it for padding, then? It must be hard sleeping on the cold ground."
"I brought plenty of padding with me," I informed her, trying to keep the irritation from my voice as I gestured to the quilted mattress behind me. She was worse than Abigail, honestly.
"...Oh," she repeated, nudging the toe of her shoe against the forest floor. "Well. Maybe you can take it anyway?"
"Why?" I demanded, unable to hold back an irritated huff. "Why is it so important that I take this blanket?" I pressed her, spreading my arms to make myself look just a bit more intimidating. Why was she so insistent? She would need it more than I ever would. She likely thought I couldn't see it in the dark, but she'd been shivering throughout the entire conversation.
"Because if I give you my blanket, you'll have to give it back."
"And what would be the point in that?" I sighed, resting my forehead atop my fingertips.
"It would let me know you're alright, for one thing! I know you're strong, Eena, but even you can't defend yourself if you're asleep! Lots of monsters come out at night, too. They don't bother us in town, but if you sleep out among them who knows what'll happen? I know I can't convince you to stay with me tonight, and… I know that's sort of my fault, but at least if you bring the blanket back, tomorrow, I'll know you survived the night! And I won't have to worry about what happened to you, even if you never visit again..."
I stared at Lissera for a long moment, before releasing a long sigh and dropping onto my mattress. "Get in."
"Huh?" Lissera's brow wrinkled in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"
"I meant exactly what I said. There are monsters out, are there not? And you are freezing, besides. We will cuddle under the blanket together tonight, and you will return home in the morning. That way neither of us will have to worry between now and my next visit."
"Really? You mean you'll visit again? And I even get to sleep with you!?"
"I'm starting to regret this already," I muttered, laying down upon my bed. It seemed I'd have to spend the night clothed. Sigh. "Just get in here already."
"Right away, Eena!" Lissera gleefully replied, throwing her blanket over my body before hunching over to crawl into my shelter herself
"That's not my real name, you know…"
"It isn't?" Lissera's mouth popped open in surprise. She didn't stop moving, though, rushing to get under the blanket and snuggle up against me.
"If you're this determined to entwine your life with mine, you might as well know. My name is Devilla. Devilla Satanne."
With those words, I closed the final opening of our shelter and settled down to sleep.
Many thanks to my editor, paradoxicalWitchling, who greatly improved this piece, and to FallingLeaf for proofreading!
Lissera probably seems a little different, in this chapter - I had to think long and hard about what sort of arc I wanted her to take, and how I wanted to differentiate it from the other characters in the series. Specifically, I was worried about her having too much overlap with Lucy, since they're both excitable and happy girls who don't care that Devilla is a demon (even if only one of them knows for sure/knows she's the Demon Queen) and want to sleep with her. So I tried to change things a little, and this is what came out. I do hope she's still enjoyable as a character - I intend to show her more often in the future, and I hope to show her to growing as she learns more about Devilla.
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
Watching Devilla leap from the window and spread her wings wide, I waited until I could barely make out my Queen's outline before releasing a pent-up sigh. I wouldn't want to say it in her presence, but I was a bit relieved to have some time to myself. It felt like all I'd done for the past week was worry about Devilla.
To be fair, there was a lot to worry about. The woman had no common sense! Flying to the ocean for salt was one thing, but saving a human town? Befriending the Heroine? She made me want to scream! If it had been anyone else doing these things, I'd have called it treason!
So what did Devilla do to cover her tracks? She told her top-ranking general, the administrator of the entire tower - who had a grudge against her, by the way! - about what she'd been up to. Sure, she pulled it off in the end, but if she hadn't? The entire tower could have gone into a panic!
Why did I even care so much? I mean, I obviously didn't want to see our society crumble into chaos or be erased from existence, so helping her was only sensible, but it felt like there was more to it than that. For some reason, I'd actually started to care about her feelings.
A couple of weeks ago, I'd barely been able to stand her; I had to pretend to be intimidated by her just to keep my job. But she'd changed. She was actually considering others. She listened when I talked, cared about what I had to say, and didn't treat me like an object to be used, or even a subject to be ruled. She… Hell take me, she treated me like a friend.
...Was that why I was worried about her? Because she was my friend? Holy hell, when did that happen? Was it when she got angry at that rabbit girl for my sake? Or maybe when she saved me from falling down the tower? How the hell had my feelings changed so much?
Letting out another sigh, I shook my head and turned away from Devilla's retreating figure.
Standing behind me, staring out the window, was Bailey, who'd apparently shifted to her humanoid form at some point. From what Devilla had told me the girl had been skin and bones at their first meeting, but I didn't see any signs of that now. She was skinny, sure, but not unhealthily so. Looking over her body's curves, especially her tits and ass, told me she had plenty of fat where it counted, too. And it wasn't just her figure that had improved. Since Devilla insisted on washing her regularly, Bailey's bushy tail and triangular ears were far glossier than the first time I'd seen her. Even the curved red horn that protruded from her forehead seemed to shine. She was actually pretty cute, bordering on sexy.
Not that I had any plans to bed her. Bailey might have been a demon, but she still thought like a monster. Devilla and I both agreed that she shouldn't have sex until she'd adjusted a bit.
Speaking of which…
"If people see you walking around this floor naked, they're going to get the wrong idea," I warned her. A lot of demons went without clothes, including quite a few beastfolk who didn't want to be bothered with carrying such things in their animal forms, but it was a bit different on the 101st floor. A girl walking around naked in the Demon Queen's personal territory was definitely going to spark rumors, and I didn't think Devilla would be happy if she came home to that sort of headache.
Bailey didn't respond to my comment, though. She just stared out the window, her lips set into a frown, her tail drooping behind her. She stood so still that you could almost mistake her for a statue and she stayed that way until the speck that represented Devilla disappeared over the horizon. Then she turned to me.
"Queen go. I follow."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath, trying to center myself. How was I even supposed to explain everything wrong with that?
"Right… First off, you can't go. Even if it wasn't a terrible idea, you don't have wings so you can't fly after her. Second, how many times has Devilla told you to use her name?" Devilla had been teaching Bailey how to speak, using telepathy to bridge the language gap. The wolf was learning pretty quickly; she still struggled to form proper sentences, but you could pretty much always tell what she wanted to say. That also meant Bailey could respond to Devilla's verbal commands, and she was usually pretty eager to do so.
She was really stubborn about some things, though.
"Queen is Queen. But Queen not here. Follow Maid."
"Follow 'Maid'? You mean me!? No way! Devilla gave me a mission. I can babysit you when it's over."
"Follow Maid," Bailey repeated, her brown eyes locked stubbornly on mine. "Keep Maid safe."
"I'm perfectly safe!" I protested, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I'm just going to the kitchen for some peppermint oil. Whatever that is…"
"Okay." Bailey nodded, looking for all the world like she was agreeing with me. I wasn't fooled, though! I knew her tricks. An uneasy silence dragged on for one second...two….three...
"I follow."
There it was! Just because she understood didn't mean she was going to go along with it! How many times had I watched Devilla struggle with this? And now it was my turn…
"Fine," I conceded, letting my arms drop as I walked past Bailey, heading toward the door. "I'll keep you company, but only during work hours. Devilla isn't paying me nearly enough to take you home with me."
"I follow."
"Look here, you…!" I growled, turning around, but my words died in my throat when I found that Bailey had already sunk down to her hands and knees. Her limbs started to shrink in on themselves, as her mouth pushed its way out into a snout. Within seconds she was back in wolf form, looking up at me with soft brown eyes, her tongue lolling out. I knew she was just panting, but I couldn't help but think that I was being teased.
Fighting off the urge to groan, I turned toward the door. Bailey followed me out, padding along on all fours. Thankfully, Devilla had been walking around with Bailey a lot lately, so the maids were getting used to the sight of a horned wolf walking down the hall. A few of them still let out muffled squeaks when they saw us, but most just squeezed against the wall and let us pass.
We reached the kitchen without any major incidents. Breakfast had been over for quite a while, and Devilla had canceled lunch, so most of the staff had long since cleared out. Thankfully there was one familiar figure still present, sweeping the floor.
"Cleanup duty again, huh? I thought you'd be above that by now. Didn't I hear you'd been made the Official Potato Chef?"
Lenora's head snapped up, her red eyes widened in surprise, but she relaxed when she saw it was just me. She gave me a quick smile before standing on her clawed toes to try and to look over my shoulder.
"Devilla's not here, if that's who you're looking for. She just sent me to get something."
"Oh…" I couldn't tell if the dragon girl was saddened or relieved. Maybe both? Devilla would probably be a lot happier if Lenora stopped putting her on a pedestal, but I doubted that was going to happen any time soon.
"So why are you sweeping?" I pressed. "Don't tell me you're still stuck on the lowest rung?"
"I-It's not that," Lenora said, shaking her head. "It's just that I'm only really good with potatoes right now, so one of the senior chefs said I should keep sweeping while I learn how to cook other dishes. Everyone else thought it was a good idea, too…"
"Uh-huh…" I didn't even try to hide the doubt in my voice or on my face. I'd seen firsthand how excited Lenora could get about cooking, and I was pretty sure she knew how to make a lot more than fries. The other chefs were probably just dumping their chores on her, but I didn't think she'd want me interfering - and she definitely wouldn't want me going to Devilla over it.
I was going to bring it up with Devilla anyway, of course, but telling Lenora that would just make her worry.
"S-So what are you doing here?" Lenora asked, her tail twitching nervously.
"Nothing big," I assured her. "I just promised Devilla I'd get her some peppermint oil. She said it would act as spider repellant, somehow? She didn't seem too sure of the details…" Devilla knew a lot of different things these days, but while her newfound wisdom seemed to be as broad as the ocean, it was only as deep as a puddle. If I poked her for specifics on anything she'd get all flustered.
"Pepper-mint oil?" Lenora echoed, frowning in thought. "Is that...Maybe… A cross between pepper and mint? Distilled into oil?"
"You've never heard of it either, huh? Guessing it's not something we have in the tower…" If I passed that info on to Devilla, she'd probably go looking for it elsewhere. Who knew how that would go? With her luck, she'd probably end up fighting an actual dragon… Though, if anyone could beat the King of Monsters, it was probably the Demon Queen.
"Sorry…" Lenora murmured, furrowing her brow. I thought maybe she was disappointed in herself, but the crease in her forehead disappeared before I could tell her not to worry about it. "We do have mint, though? And pepper? Maybe if you asked the Mistress of Agriculture she could crossbreed them or something. I mean, I know how to make oil with spearmint and the like, so I can probably do it with this 'pepper-mint' too."
"The Mistress of Agriculture, huh?" Now it was my turn to frown. Lenora was talking about Yara, the general of the tenth floor. I didn't know a lot about her, but what I'd heard was mostly positive. She was straightforward, hard-working, and honest, on top of being a strong warrior. She didn't think too highly of Devilla, though. Since I was now associated with the Demon Queen, it didn't take much imagination to picture what sort of welcome I'd receive.
I considered leaving it to Devilla. She could probably just order Yara to grow some "peppermint" for her and it would be over and done with. If I went, I'd be taking the full brunt of Yara's distaste with no guarantee of results. Normally, I'd call the choice obvious. Even Devilla would probably say waiting for her was the right call.
But that was exactly why I had to try. My Queen was doing her best to secure a future for our people. It was going to take at least a day for her to come back to the tower, and when she did she'd probably be exhausted, mentally if not physically. Despite that, I knew she'd insist on handling things herself once she found out how much work getting peppermint oil entailed. As if she wasn't already pushing herself harder than she should…
"Alright, I'll get Denna to help me send down an official request." Being the head of Devilla's household, Denna was technically even busier than the Demon Queen. The fate of our entire species didn't rest on her shoulders though, so the pressure was probably a little bit less. If I used Devilla's name right, she'd do pretty much anything I asked.
That still left me with one problem; the four-legged beast who was sitting patiently behind me, with her tongue lolling out and her eyes practically glued to my ass.
Walking with Bailey about the 101st floor was one thing, since the maids already knew about her, but taking what looked like a monster to another part of the tower was just asking for trouble. I doubted Bailey could be convinced not to follow me though, and ditching her via flight would cause more problems than it solved. I could have her shift into humanoid form, but I wasn't really sure how she'd react to complete strangers staring at her naked body. Not to mention the rumors that would spread if the Demon Queen's personal maid was seen escorting a naked demon down from the 101st floor. So far as I could figure, there was only one real option.
"Hey Bailey, how'd you like to raid your Queen's closet?"
Devilla
My wings beat lazily, magically propelling me through the air. The sun was high in the sky, evidence of how late I had slept in. It barely counted as an inconvenience for me, but Lissera had been quite upset about missing 'peak work hours'. She hadn't even waited for me to take off, running back to the village as fast as her slender legs could carry her.
After an hour of monotonous flying, the gray walls of Rendra city were finally coming into view. Rising a bit higher into the sky, I was able to see over the circular fortifications that surrounded the city. The sheer number of buildings crammed so tightly together struck me as impressive. In terms of population, Dimona Tower doubtlessly held more people. Its architecture was more impressive - though, considering it had been built by magic, that was a little like comparing apples to… Well, magically enhanced apples. Still, there was something impressive about seeing my first real city. Jacob's memories contained far greater metropolises, of course, but no matter how clearly I remembered living on Earth I had quite literally been a different person at the time. My current self had never seen so many buildings packed together, or so many humans crowding around each other. It felt like I had reached a milestone.
Despite being oddly touched by the sight, I still remembered to cover myself with an illusion to match the empty sky as I flew closer.
There were two openings in the wall, so far as I could tell, one on either side. The opening closest to me was blocked by an iron portcullis; although I couldn't see it from my current position, it seemed a safe assumption that the other one would be similarly defended. A long line of humans stretched from the gate closest to me; a similar procession could be seen on the other side.
As I flew closer, the gray walls loomed larger. Soon I could no longer see above them, and my focus shifted from the buildings within to the people lined up outside. From the bored expression they wore, I could guess that most of them had been waiting quite a while. If I took the time to wait my turn night would probably fall before I could get in. I was hardly phased by darkness, but if I couldn't find a place to trade my jewels for coins after arriving in the city I was going to have trouble finding an inn.
And that wasn't my only concern. When I focused my gaze on the front of the line, I noticed that every person who passed through stopped a moment to speak to the guards. They would then show the guards a slip of paper or hand over a few bronze coins. It seemed that if you wanted to enter the city legally you needed to either provide proper identification or pay a toll. Lacking either, I saw little choice but to sneak my way inside.
Maintaining my illusion, I flew above the city, searching for a good place to land. I decided on a low, squat building that had been built against the interior of the wall, some distance from the gate, in an area that seemed almost devoid of guards. The buildings in that area were covered in dirt, and several of the structures were crumbling if not already collapsed. The building I chose had several cracks running through its roof; the whole thing would likely fall apart if I were to stomp too hard. It wasn't the sort of building anyone would pay attention to, which made it perfect for my purposes.
Gently landing on the rooftop, I dismissed both my spell and my wings, then walked to the edge of the building to peer out onto the streets. This particular structure was off the main road, hidden behind several other buildings, which meant you'd have to go through a veritable maze of sideroads and alleyways to even see it. Even still, there were a few people wandering the tiny street that ran in front of it. Likely they were people like me, trying to avoid notice. To look at them, they were fairing no better than the local buildings; their clothes ragged, their faces dirty, and their expressions grim. This area was well suited to my purposes, but looking out upon the poverty-stricken citizenry… it made me uncomfortable. I had to wonder if there were places like this in Dimona Tower, where my people starved and basic necessities went unmet, and whether I could do anything to fix that.
That question would have to wait until my next check-in, however. For now, I needed to get out of there without being seen. I moved over to the rightmost edge of the building and scouted the alley below. Seeing nothing but an empty street, I hopped over the side and let gravity take me. My feet struck the ground, my legs not even bending, the shock of impact not so much as phasing me. Alas, my divine resilience did nothing for my balance. My heeled foot slipped as it hit the ground, sending me tumbling onto my ass.
I stood back up quickly, glad nobody had seen that, and was in the middle of dusting myself off when a figure darted into the alleyway. She was panting heavily, her eyes wide and full of fear, her body half doubled over as she barreled down the street. She didn't seem to notice me, perhaps because of the dimness of the alley, but more likely because she was so preoccupied with glancing back the way she'd come. All of a sudden, she plastered herself against the alley wall and stared intently out into the open street she'd left behind.
I was still deciding whether or not I should speak up when another figure strode into the alley, followed by two more. The apparent leader was another woman, with shiny blonde hair and bright orange eyes that were narrowed in irritation. Her well-groomed form made her seem like a completely different species than the first girl, whose green hair was covered in dirt and grease. The blonde's skin was clear and unblemished, her cheeks round and well-fed. Her clothes seemed well made, even to my untrained eye; while I couldn't say anything about the materials from sight alone, I could tell that the outfit had been tailored to fit her form.
As for the men who followed her, I could only see them as thugs. Their faces were nearly identical, from their squashed noses to their beady little eyes. They had arms like tree trunks and legs thick enough around that they wouldn't have been out of place on an elephant. Both of them were wearing brown shirts with short cut sleeves that showed off their muscles, and similarly colored pants. The one on the right had a small green flower embroidered on one side of his britches, which was practically his sole defining feature. Perhaps they were identical twins? The similarity of their clothes made me wonder if it was some sort of uniform, or if they were purposefully leaning into the stereotype of interchangeable goons.
The twins kept a few feet back from the girl, standing side by side so as to completely block the alley's exit. Since this path led to a dead-end, it didn't seem like I'd be able to leave without engaging them.
The blonde woman's lips thinned in displeasure as she looked about the dirty alleyway, her eyes sliding right past the first woman to settle on me.
"You there!" she called in an imperial tone, striding past the other woman and walking right up to me. "Have you seen a green-haired girl? A raggedy little thing. There's a shiny cross in it for you if you can tell me where she is."
My eyes darted to the aforementioned figure, whose eyes were now focused entirely on me. She was pale and trembling, perhaps due to noticing me for the first time. Perhaps she was worried that I'd turn her in? From the way the blonde ignored her, I could only assume she was wielding some sort of magic to avoid detection, but for some reason it was having no effect on me.
The blonde girl turned to track my gaze. Slowly, her irritated expression morphed into a smirk. "Is it just me, or is that part of the alley unnaturally dark?"
Dark? It didn't look that way to me. Then again, with night vision as good as mine, even night and day were sometimes difficult to tell apart. Perhaps the girl was manipulating light to surround herself with shadows?
The blonde woman glanced over her shoulder at the thugs who, as if on cue, stepped toward the supposedly dark space. The green-haired girl's eyes were now flitting about frantically. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. My glance had led the blonde straight to her, and it didn't seem like they were friends. In fact, one of the men was drawing his arm back as I watched, while the hidden girl was trembling so much was honestly surprised that she could remain upright. It was possible that the thug would miss, since he couldn't see his prey, but I didn't think it would take many swings for him to find her. If she dropped the spell and ran she'd be found out all the faster. Even moving about within the shadows might reveal her location if her opponent had good hearing. No matter what choice she made, I didn't think the girl would escape these three unscathed.
"Excuse me," I called out before the man could complete his swing. "Can you tell me why you're after her?"
"Huh?" The blonde glanced at me, then snarled. The thug paused midswing, turning his gaze to her as if seeking additional instructions, but the blonde ignored him. "What's it to you? You stick your nose into every stranger's business? Get out of here, unless you're offering to pay her dues."
"I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of money, other than perhaps that 'shiny cross' you mentioned, but-"
"Then get going," the blonde growled, pointing toward the entrance of the alley with her thumb. Both men pressed themselves against the wall, giving me a clear path. "This isn't any of your business."
I stared at the blonde for a moment, unsure what to say. She was right. This was none of my concern. I wasn't a resident of these slums, a citizen of this city, or even a member of their species. I had no ties whatsoever to this green-haired girl, who could be in trouble for any number of reasons. Perhaps the actions of this woman and her thugs were even justified. Sticking around and getting into trouble would only cause me to break my promise to Abigail, and draw unnecessary attention to myself.
By all rights, the proper move was to extricate myself. That was the right move.
It was…
My gaze shifted to the girl they were targeting. Her eyes kept flicking between me and her assailants, wide with terror. I was still in the midst of my hesitation when the blonde began to speak again.
"Looks like we have a new obstacle, boys. You two start punching the shadows, I'll take care of Miss Goody Two Shoes." Even as she spoke, the blonde casually withdrew a dagger from her belt. Its simple leather handle was well worn, and the confidence with which she held it made me think that she was well used to wielding it. While it was doubtful she'd be able to do any real damage to me with such a thing, I eyed it warily all the same. I didn't need rumors spreading of a woman whose skin couldn't be pierced by blades.
"W-Wait!" the green-haired woman shouted, raising her hands to guard her face. "You don't want to-ack!" The girl was forced to duck; her words were cut off as one of the men slammed a fist against the wall, hard enough to make it tremble, causing the brick he'd hit to crumble into pebbles.
"Do you really have time to be paying attention to someone else!?" the blonde demanded. I shifted focus back to my own fight to find the woman running toward me with her dagger out front. It looked as if she intended to ram the blade into my stomach; a simple, but effective strategy, especially if your opponent was distracted.
I didn't even try to dodge. Instead, I reached for my magic, allowing the familiar warmth of its energy to rise from within me, and then pushed the power down from the soles of my feet, through the heels of my shoes, and into the earth. I drew moisture from deep within the ground up into the earth beneath the blonde's feet, turning the tamped down dirt into far softer mud. My attacker's feet slid out from under her; she likely would have fallen onto her own dagger, had I not caused a tendril of mud to shoot out and slap it free of her grip. As it was, she ended up flopping face-first into the wet soil, with nothing injured but her pride.
The thugs had thankfully stopped their attack on the green-haired girl and were now coming toward me. Seeing little choice but to fight at this point, I hopped over the blonde and calmly walked forward. Avoiding the first attack was as simple as tilting my head to the right. The second blow was aimed at my stomach, meant to catch me off guard, but I blocked this one with my arm, catching the meaty fist with my relatively slender limb. I could feel strength behind the punch, but I might as well have been hit with a feather for all the good it did the thug. I turned his blow aside, then grabbed hold of his arm and swept him sideways into his brother. There was a solid thwack as one dense body met another, and I felt the force of the impact running through me. Completely unaffected, I repeated my trick of turning dirt into mud. The earth trembled beneath my feet as the thugs were reduced to a tangle of limbs on the ground.
With that sorted, I turned my attention to the green-haired girl. She was staring at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. Rather than trying to speak, it almost seemed as if she were trying not to scream.
"...You do realize I just saved you, yes?" I didn't think I'd gone particularly overboard while taking care of her assailants. I'd certainly done nothing to warrant this sort of reaction.
"S-Saved me…?" The girl's eyes darted to the blonde, who was slowly managing to get back on her feet, before shifting to the two thugs who were pushing against each other as they attempted to rise up from the muck.
"Perhaps I spoke too soon…" I tapped my foot against the ground, transmitting a stream of magic down into the earth. A massive hand emerged from the street, its fingers grasping hold of the blonde and slamming her against the wall, where it kept her pinned. She responded with an ungraceful squawk and began to hammer at it with her fists. Although the blonde's prison was constructed from nothing but dirt, my magic had compressed it to such a point that there was little difference between it and solid rock. All the same, flakes of it were coming off with each punch, and I was sure she'd be able to work her way out of it eventually.
I left her to work on her prison, turning my attention back to the thugs only to discover that they were already upright and booking it out of the alley as fast as their stocky legs could carry them. Perhaps they intended to report this to their boss? That would likely come back to bite me if I didn't take care of things here and now.
I turned back to the woman I had trapped. She was still pounding on her prison, her face twisted with anger as she let loose a stream of curses. She was making steady progress, but she was still at least an hour from her freedom, assuming she could keep up the pace. As I hardly had time for that, I walked forward to touch the hand that held her, forcibly loosening the dirt and allowing it to crumble. Unprepared for sudden freedom the blonde toppled, landing on her hands and knees.
"May I ask for your name?" I gave my former prisoner a polite smile, crouching down next to her.
The blonde glared at me, her green eyes narrowed in anger. "Look, I don't know what sob story Feyra hooked you with, but we're not the bad guys here - we're just collecting the money she owes."
"I already paid you back," the green-haired girl - Feyra? - sulkily protested from behind me. "The money I have left is for my medicine."
"You mean that nasty potion habit?" The blonde spat. "I don't care what you do to your body with that junk, but you forgot to pay the interest. It's up to three saints."
"Three saints!? There's no way I owe that much! I only borrowed five crosses…"
I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of both women back to myself. "I'm not entirely sure as to the circumstances but, if I understand correctly, the issue can be resolved by a payment of money?"
"Hey, if you wanna claim that girl's debt, it's all yours, but I'm going to have to insist on payment upfront - Mama Marion doesn't take kindly to people reneging on what they owe. Understand?"
I nodded with deliberate slowness, trying to buy myself time to piece everything together. Crosses and saints were apparently a form of currency. From the sounds of it, this Feyra had borrowed a small amount and ended up owing a much larger sum. In other words, she'd probably gone to a loan shark to pay for her "potion habit".
This really wasn't my concern, then. Whatever trouble Feyra was in, she'd gotten into it on her own. Besides which, disputes involving money and debts weren't the sort of thing that could be resolved purely through brute force or magic power.
That said, if all the girl needed was money...
"Very well," I declared. "She will have what she owes by tomorrow, if not tonight. For now, I ask that you leave her in my care."
"Excuse me, I said I needed payment upfront?" the blonde snapped, standing upright to glare at me.
I tapped the toe of my shoe against the ground. This time I drew up so much water that the blonde's feet and ankles sank into the muck. She squeaked, and fell forward, fear momentarily flickering across her features. I hardened the earth directly below her feet and placed a hand under her shoulder, pushing her upright.
"You…" The blonde trailed off, glaring up at me and gritting her teeth. After a moment of this, however, she reluctantly nodded her assent. "Alright. She has until tomorrow. But after that, I'm gathering all Mama's forces, understand? It doesn't matter how strong you are, you'll go down under the weight of our numbers."
I doubted that. Still, while I would remain unscathed, I couldn't be certain that those around me would fare so well. If Feyra was to survive this, she was going to need to pay back the money she owed.
"Three saints, correct? If you try to claim more, in the name of a day's delay I will be… displeased." I mimicked her glare, trying to add weight to my words. The bluff seemed to work, as the blonde flinched beneath my gaze.
"Fine," she muttered, turning her head away as if to hide her expression from me. "As long as she can pay the full amount by tomorrow's end, we'll call it done and everyone can go their merry way. But if she's even one virtue short…"
"I understand completely." I didn't even try to keep the irritation from my voice as I held out my hand. "I will get her the coin she needs. If she fails to pay you back despite my funding, it will have nothing to do with me. Agreed?"
The blonde studied my proffered hand for a long moment. The look upon her face, as if someone had forced her to suck upon a lemon, spoke to her distaste, but in the end she slowly reached out to shake my hand. The blonde's white knuckles made me think she was putting everything she had into her grip, but her valiant efforts brought me far closer to amusement than discomfort.
"Fine," she muttered afterward. "But don't think I'll forget the humiliation you've dealt me today."
Spouting lines more fit for a cartoon villain than an actual person, the disheveled blonde yanked herself from the mud, marching past Feyra and out of the alley. It was only then that I realized she had never responded to my request for her name. Not that I particularly cared to learn it.
With that bit of unpleasantness taken care of, I at last turned my attention to Feyra, whose back was literally against the wall. I had made a deal on her behalf, but it wasn't out of the kindness of my heart. It was time to extract compensation.
Feyra
I stared after Kalice as she marched from the alley, silently wishing that I could follow. She might have been a bitch who treated me like I was worth less than the mud on her shoes, but even getting beaten seemed far better than being left alone with my 'savior'. As a fellow adventurer, Kalice must have had some idea of her opponent's terrifying power; otherwise she'd never have accepted such a one-sided offer. I doubted she realized the full truth, though. There was no way she'd be so calm if she knew that the brunette hadn't used even a fraction of her true strength. From my perspective, it was obvious that she'd been toying with them from the start. Making them fall over each other, pinning them against the wall… If she'd been serious about fighting them, she could have reduced them all to ash.
And that monster was looking at me now, with a horrible smile on her lips. I swallowed hard and pressed my back against the wall. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to flee, but I forced myself to remain in place. Just like Kalice had sensed that it was impossible to fight this creature, I knew that running from her would be useless. She wouldn't even need to chase me. She could just wave her hand in my general direction and I'd explode. Or maybe I'd dissolve into the darkness, and be reborn as one of her minions; a fitting end for someone with cursed blood like mine.
I was a little surprised she hadn't done it preemptively. I mean, she was the Demon Queen. She had to be! Sure, she looked human enough. Her single most distinctive feature, her snow-white hair, had been disguised, probably with some sort of dye. With her soft hands, which didn't look like they'd ever seen a day's work, and her finely crafted clothes, made of who knew what material, she could probably pass as a noble's daughter. At the very least, you wouldn't think she was the harbinger of all evil. I was likely one of the few people in all the world who could see her true nature.
"Is everything okay?" the monster asked. The softness in her expression, the way her shoulders had relaxed since Kalice left the alley… She clearly didn't see me as a threat. Why would she? She could end me with a flick of her finger. "You're trembling."
"I'm fine," I lied. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't keep my body from shaking. "Just a little freaked out by… uh… the whole situation."
The monster seemed to think her disguise was intact. That was good. There was no telling what she'd do if she knew I'd seen through her disguise. What was the Demon Queen even doing here!? Was she here to take the Heroine's head? There were tales of her showing up on the battlefield, but nothing about her just walking around like a normal person! If I told anyone about it, they'd think I was crazy just for suggesting it.
There was no doubting it, though; not for me. My bloodline had the unique ability to see magic energy, and the sheer amount of it flowing through this woman was insane. Looking at her with my Sight active was like staring directly into the sun. I'd always wondered if the tales I'd heard about the Demon Queen's power were exaggerated, but if anything they weren't giving her enough credit. I was pretty sure every adventurer in the city could attack her at the same time, and they wouldn't even leave a scratch. Hell, the army could go after her, and it wouldn't do any good!
"Are you sure you're alright?" the Demon Queen pressed, reaching out to touch my forehead, as if she was concerned that I was sick. "You've been staring at me for a while…"
"I-I'm fine!" I reassured her, forcing a smile. "See? Cheery, even! I mean, you're going to pay my debts, right?" I couldn't imagine what might have driven her to say such things, but I'd have to act like everything was fine if I wanted to survive the night.
"...If you're sure." The Demon Queen shook her head, folding her arms across her admittedly impressive chest. "Well then. I suppose we can discuss how you're to earn your three saints."
Three saints. Did this monster even know human money? Did she not realize how much that was!? Or wait… there were rumors, among the adventurers, that the Demon Queen was sitting on a great deal of wealth. It wasn't worth storming the tower over, so far as I was concerned, but I had met quite a few adventurers who were willing to sign up for the invasion force, in return for a share of that theoretical treasure.
"W-What do I need to do?" I asked, unable to keep my voice from trembling. I didn't want blood money. If I was willing to hurt people, I would have been able to cut a deal with Mama Marion on my own. But I didn't want to die, either…
"Simple." The monster gave me a small smile, as if trying to reassure me. "I require a guide. First, you will take me to a jewelry store, then to the adventurer's guild, and finally you will show me to an inn. After that, you will be paid, enough to free yourself of your debts. A good deal for both of us, is it not?"
I couldn't stop my mouth from dropping open in surprise. A good deal? Three saints for showing her to three places!? It was ludicrously one-sided! Assuming she kept her word, at least.
"Alright," I replied, after pretending to think about it. Being a good guide was my one and only chance at survival. That meant taking her to a trustworthy jeweler. Someone who wouldn't cheat her, or otherwise anger her enough to go on a rampage…
As it happened Amessa, my potion contact, worked from the back of her father's jewelry shop. The old man was always giving me dirty looks over my choice of potions, but from what I knew he was serious about his work, and so far as I knew he wasn't in the habit of cheating his customers. Hopefully, he could be trusted not to send the Demon Queen into a rage.
Sending a silent prayer to the Goddess, I turned toward the alley's exit. "I think I know the perfect place…"
Many thanks to my editor, paradoxicalWitchling, who greatly improved this piece, and to FallingLeaf for proofreading!
So, I tried something new with this one - I put in headers to indicate the POV character for the section! I don't have much else to say on this one. The most notable thing about it is that it features a section from Feyra's point of view. It's also pretty short for a chapter of DQ - I wrote it while on the verge of burning out. In fact, I did burn out after finishing it. I didn't manage to edit and release it for 7 months after the fact. Thankfully I've already recovered from that, and will be posting chapter 13 tomorrow!
As always, I hope you had fun reading! If you're interested in supporting me, please consider joining my Patreon! I'll be releasing everything up to chapter 13 over the next couple weeks, but generally new chapters stay on Patreon for two weeks before being released to the public - though admittedly most of that time is generally spent getting it edited and proofread. The lowest tier you can get access with is $1, while the higher tiers - $5+ - get you access to my one-shots a month before I post them anywhere else. (I generally try to get those edited during that one month time span, as well.)
