The words crashed like thunderbolts, sending goosebumps rippling across their body as if a spider crawled beneath their skin. Gazing around, they waited as reality fractured before their eyes.

A bare mountain loomed ahead, commanding their undivided attention.

Ice and fire, two opposite forces of nature, clashed on the mountain, each demanding its own space, neither yielding dominance.

Standing at the mountain’s base, they stared up at the peak, questioning the very fabric of reality. Walls of stone seemed to partition their lives, obstructing their rightful claim—a shroud woven by nature itself, safeguarding them from imminent peril.

“Any plans?” Wrilo inquired.

Ric approached Henzo, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Not a clue,” he admitted, bolstering their resolve. “But when the time comes, trust me, and use the boost.”

“And you claim to have no plan?” Henzo retorted, his brow furrowing.

“When chaos erupts, you’re my lifeline out of here,” Ric countered.

“HEY!” the others chimed in unison.

“What!? Get your own damn horse. I’m not babysitting a bunch of fools who can’t fend for themselves.”

“So much for teamwork,” Ravi muttered, his expression darkening.

Before Ric could retaliate, Henzo took the initiative. “Do you know who among us is the weakest?”

Ravi, taken aback, decided to play along. “Let me guess, you?”

“Good. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Henzo replied with a smile.

The others perceived the remark as a taunt, but Ric recognized the genuine smile hidden within. ‘He’s going to be the death of me,’ Ric thought, shaking his head.

“So you think you know who can bail you out of trouble too?” Henzo quipped.

“Who?” Ravi’s curiosity piqued as he turned his attention to Ric, echoing the others’ interest.

“Ha! And here I was, giving you credit for brains,” Henzo scoffed. “It’s me.”

“But how—” Ravi began, only to be cut off by Ric.

“I said it’s unimportant,” Ric interjected. “We’re leaving.” He glanced at their tattered suits. “But first, we need to fix those.”

Summoning the citizens, they hurried over with large banana leaves, eager to claim their share of food. It took Henzo several minutes to placate them before explaining the situation. Their enthusiasm waned, and they slumped to the ground, the magic that propelled their weak legs faltering.

Ignoring their dejection, Ric tossed the skin suits at them, instructing them to repair them within the hour. Debbie used the time to whip the infiltration group back into shape, ensuring they recounted every detail and conducted mock drills to uphold her reputation.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Though the group exchanged glances, none dared to voice their concerns, not with a whip in Debbie’s hands.

Once preparations were complete, Ric concealed himself inside the crab suit, while Ravi accompanied the trio with Henzo, their supposed plaything. Debbie declined the invitation, citing an excessive workload.

At the gate, Ric praised Mae’s ingenuity and directed them to create another door, small enough for a rat to pass through.

“Demons,” Yanko cursed, but Ric and Mae accepted it as a compliment.

En route to the guard barracks, Ric enlisted a farmer to join them and instructed a guard to rendezvous with them at Uvrodon’s chambers, both encounters he foresaw. The wiry, yet robust man named Tenson and the only guard with a visible belly, Faso, who knocked on the door startling the groups not long ago.

Ric dragged Ravi along, brushing off his plea to console or aid the zone mages. Ravi ignored Ric until he issued a chilling threat to harm the children in front of him before ending his own life in misery.

After hearing Ric’s stern warning, Ravi didn’t dare to argue. How did that rhyme go again?

“Cross a demon, warn a flock. Form a promise, lock the clock. For where their wrath doth roam, no refuge found, no safety home.”

To put it in simpler words: If you’re in bed with a demon, stay in bed.

Tenson was stationed a sufficient distance from Uvrodon’s chambers, close enough to hear any shouts and daring enough to witness the clandestine deal happening within. Ric selected this location on purpose to manipulate the farmer.

“Why are they given higher status again?” Ric inquired.

The others exchanged glances, then turned to Ravi for an explanation. Reluctant to assist the demon, Ravi spoke up before Ric diverted his attention. “Outbound to nature.”

“Druids?” Ric arched an eyebrow, scanning the group for confirmation, finding none. “Rare?”

“Very.”

“And yet they’re at the bottom...” Before anyone interjected with “Pity,” Ric scowled and spat, “Pathetic.”

This word unleashed Ravi’s pent-up anger. He raised a fist to strike Ric, but something—or someone—robbed him of his ability to move. Ravi followed the source of restraint to a hand composed of minimal flesh and skin, just barely meeting the criteria to be called a hand—a human hand.

Henzo held Ravi back with a single hand, not even bothering to glance in his direction as he picked his nose, wiped the contents on a pricey painting, and then used the same finger to clear his ear.

Unable to break free from Henzo’s iron grip, Ravi resorted to words instead. “How can they defy the nobles? Do—”

“—By dying,” Ric interjected with a shrug.

“What—why is everything about death with you?” Ravi sputtered in disbelief.

“Wrong question,” Ric chuckled, dismissing Ravi’s inquiry.

The other party members were also on the brink of exploding, but before they could act, Wrilo spoke up. “How can death help?”

Ric grinned at Wrilo, giving her a friendly pat on the back. “Because only they can,” he hinted, raising his eyebrows in suggestion.

It took Wrilo a moment to grasp the meaning, and when she did, she erupted into fits of laughter. “Of course!”

“Mind filling us in?” Mae prodded Wrilo.

Wiping away tears of laughter, Wrilo struggled to regain her composure. “If they die, we do too,” she explained, patting one of Claude’s legs as Mae moved closer. “If they had only stood their ground and fought for what they believed...”

“... They would have been ruling Saint,” Ric finished her thought.

Wrilo had a different outcome in mind, and Ric’s revelation stunned her. “Ruled?” she echoed, then realized the implications. “Power...!”

“... Reveals anyone’s true intent,” Ric concluded, flashing a smile as he slipped out of the crab suit and spotted Faso in the chambers.

“Who are you?” Faso demanded, reaching for a horn fastened to his belt.

"The one and only," Ric declared, bowing with a subtle yet graceful showman's flair. "Demon King."

On cue, the group behind him spread out forming a barricade at the entrance.

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