The kingdom of Dreghel was a land of ancient forests, where the tall trees reached up to touch the sky. The elves, who called these woods home, were known for their graceful stature and keen eyesight.

Elves were extremely similar to humans, the only difference being their long ears and tall stature.

They were relatively slim in general, and their average height was around 180 cm (5'11 ~) for women and 190cm (6'3 ~) for men. They usually lived longer than normal humans, around five hundred years on average. Their diet consisted of naturally grown fruits, herbs, and occasionally meat.

Although some of the other races thought of them as purely vegetarians, they did eat meat on some occasions, especially in wartime, since they needed as much sustenance as possible.

Being adept archers, they used their bows to hunt and attack any invaders, protecting their deity, the World Tree, Yggdrasil.

Yggdrasil usually required a caretaker chosen from the elves, who transformed that elf into a high elf. This would, in turn, make the caretaker of the world tree the ruler of the elves.

The current High Elf is Ioelena Ulamoira, making her the Elven Queen.

At the moment, that very elven Queen was trapped inside a cell made out of wooden branches, incapacitated with her mana, aura, and aspect sealed. Outside of the cell, a tall woman sat on an ornate wooden chair, her gaze cold.

"Sylmare, what is the meaning of this?!"

Ioelena asked, her voice sounding desperate. She knew that things weren't looking good, especially since the world tree seemed to have suffered severe damage.

Sylmare didn't speak as she expressionlessly brought out a dagger and approached the cell. Raising her hand, she stabbed the sword down, piercing Ioelena's leg and causing her to scream in agony.

Hearing her scream, Sylmare finally cracked a smile, and her face became warped in joy as she spoke.

"Oh, this was the feeling I was craving; this is truly fantastical. You have no idea how much I've craved this situation, how much I wanted to remove that nonchalant expression from your face, how much I wanted to make you suffer."

Ioelena couldn't help but grimace; however, realizing that her pain would only make Sylmare happier, she steeled herself, stopping any form of sound from escaping her mouth.

After struggling for a bit, she asked.

"Why do you hate me so much? I have done nothing but help you, Sylmare!"

Hearing her words, Sylmare couldn't help but smile. Her eyes took on a reddish hue, and black smoke came out of her body.

"Everything you have was supposed to be mine! I was supposed to be the caretaker; I was supposed to have the affection of Onvyr; I was supposed to be worshiped, not you!"

Her voice sounded wretched, envy and rage clouding her visage.

Ioelenas's face paled even further when she heard her words, realizing that she had long lost herself to the demonic seed and had become a demonic slave.

She started feeling despair, knowing that there was almost no way for her people to be saved now that the world tree was being corrupted and Sylmare had taken over.

Sylmare's twisted shouts echoed through the chamber. Iolena had hoped to reason with Sylmare, to find some semblance of her original self left in her, but it seemed that the demonic seed had consumed her entirely.

With each passing moment, the corruption of Yggdrasil grew more pungent, its once vibrant branches now withered and tainted by dark energy. The fate of the elven race hung in the balance, and Ioelena knew that she had to find a way to stop Sylmare before it was too late.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

At this moment, a knock was heard at the door, prompting Sylmare to calm down her emotions as she glanced at the figure entering.

It was a young human with curly brown hair and a handsome face with cold blue eyes. Looking at what was going on, he couldn't help but sigh.

"When I was ordered to come here to assist you, I didn't expect you to be such an insane bitch, Sylmare. Just focus on the plan; we want more demonic apparitions to completely remove the seal; the ones we've got so far aren't even making a dent."

Said the young man as he sat on the ornate wooden chair that Sylmare had been sitting on earlier.

Since her superior had ordered her to stop wasting time, Sylmare couldn't help but grit her teeth and pull out the knife from Ioelena's leg, causing a small fountain of blood to cover her expressionless face.

Turning to the young man, she bowed and spoke.

"I'm sorry for the sight, Lord Dean."

The young man smiled, his blue eyes having a hint of purple in them.

"Even though I've lost my standing in the Thelwedean empire after my father's capture, I didn't expect the demons to value me so highly that they gave me a major general position. To think that I would be standing here, commanding thousands of demonic slaves to attack my empire, isn't that funny?"

The young man said this, letting out an evil chuckle. The young man's name was Dean Byrd.

Dean realized that his standing had become obsolete after his whole family was executed for treason, so he escaped the empire with the help of the demon behind him.

For some reason, the demon treated him well, which confused him greatly, even giving him some status in the demonic army by making him a major general. He didn't mind, however, since things were looking better for him. With status also came the power he so wished, as his demonic energy advanced with the resources he was given. He couldn't be more happy at the moment.

Right now, he was under orders to attack the Thelwedean empire, using the elves as a cover. At first, he used the hidden demonic elven slaves to attack the Thelwedean empire, prompting the two to go to war as he slowly invaded their capital and poisoned the World Tree using a concoction given to him by the demon.

It took him roughly two months to completely take over the capital, using his newfound mind-control abilities to take care of any troublemakers and make them into either demonic slaves or demonic apparitions.

Looking at Sylmare's stoic face, he remembered that demon's appearance; he couldn't help but wonder why that demon assisted him so much. For some reason, he could sense some sort of connection with that demon, as if they were somehow related by blood, but that couldn't be the case.

His mother was an average human, after all, dying after giving birth to him, and his father was a pure-blooded noble, so it made no sense to him.

Suddenly, he thought of something. He didn't know his mother's background, nor had he tried to understand it before. He put it on his to-do list since, for now, he had to complete his orders.

Smiling, he ordered Sylmare to leave the room, leaving him alone with the high elf. Glancing at Ioelena's beautiful face, a mischievous smile spread on his lips.

"I wonder how long it will take to transform the high and mighty Queen of the Elves into a demonic slave. One thing is for sure, though: I will enjoy every second of it.

This was the power he craved—the power to control others and make them suffer. He knew that he was being used by the demon behind him, but he didn't care. As long as he was given more power and control, he would do whatever was necessary to achieve his goals.

Ioelena's already pale face became even paler as she had an awful feeling.

As Dean approached Ioelena, her heart began to race. She knew what was coming, and the thought of being turned into a demonic slave terrified her. She tried to summon her magic to defend herself, but her powers were sealed.

Dean noticed her feeble attempt and chuckled.

"Don't bother resisting, my dear. Your resistance only adds to my enjoyment."

He reached out and touched her forehead with his hand. A black aura emanated from it as Ioelena felt a surge of dark energy coursing through her body. She screamed in agony as the power consumed her. A dense black crystal entered her body, ultimately merging with it.

Dean smiled as he watched her transformation. Her once-bright eyes turned dark, and her skin took on a sickly green hue. Her ears elongated into sharp points, and her once-flowing hair turned into a tangled mess.

"Welcome to the demonic side, oh dear Queen of the Elves."

Dean said, his voice dripping with malice.

Ioelena's mind was clouded, and her thoughts were no longer her own. She was now a slave to Dean's will, and there was no escaping it.

Dean laughed as he watched the once-proud Queen now grovel at his feet. He had succeeded in his mission, and the Thelwedean Empire would soon fall at the hands of the demonic army.

But even as he reveled in his triumph, a small voice in the back of his mind wondered about his true origins. Who was his mother, and why did he sense a connection to the demon who had given him so much power?

For the first time in a long time, Dean began to question his allegiance to the demon. Was he genuinely willing to give up his humanity for power, or was there more to life than just domination? Was he being played by that demon this whole time?