There was a brief panic when Ophelia disappeared, but once the others realized there was nothing they could do, they settled into a somber silence as we awaited the reinforcements sent by the church. I spent most of that time drifting in and out of consciousness, too weak to even keep my eyes open. Sylvia stayed next to me the whole time, presumably to keep me contained– not that it would have mattered, since the cuffs had drained my [MP] to 0, and my aura was not powerful enough to do anything to anyone here.
When the others finally did arrive, I was made aware of it by being suddenly raised off the ground by a firm hand clamped down on my throat. I opened my eyes and looked down to see the furious face of my least favorite half-elf, Alexei.
“Careful. She’s a tad fragile right now,” said Sylvia from somewhere behind me. I could hear her smiling.
“I don’t care,” hissed Alexei. “I knew it. I knew you were a Demon King. No one believed me, and now one of the Godly Emissaries is dead.”
“Calm down Alexei,” said Otto from my left. “Lucy had nothing to do with what happened here. Let go of her.”
“That’s what she wants you to think,” said Alexei, tightening his grip. “You can’t trust her. She’s clever. She managed to fool my mother for five years. No doubt, she was working together with the other Demon Kings on this.”
“Alexei!” said Otto. “Put her down! Even if she was, she is already a captive, and is currently completely helpless. Her fate is not yours to decide. She is in the church’s hands now.”
For a moment, Alexei remained immobile. Then, with one last squeeze that made me feel like my eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, he let go, and I fell to the ground, slumped over in an awkward and uncomfortable position, but unable to move. My face was on the ground, so I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear Alexei stomping away angrily.
A few seconds later, I was lifted off the ground again, this time much more gently by a [Telekinesis] spell, and found myself face to face with Natalya. She wore a complicated expression that I couldn’t quite read. It was something between disappointment and vindication. Wordlessly, she reached out a hand, opened a portal, and led me inside.
As soon as I emerged on the other side, the strength returned to my body and mind, and the world came back into focus. We were in an empty, round room that was made entirely of a black metal that I recognized to be the same adamantium alloy as Barnabas’ chain and my current restraints were made from. There was a ring halfway embedded into the wall with a chain dangling from it. Natalya floated me over to the chain and with a quick spell, concatenated it to my cuffs.
The cuffs had already been doing an excellent job of keeping my [MP] at 0, but as soon as they were attached to the new chain, the tug on my mana seemed to double. I was glad that I had already deactivated [Perseverance], because I was fairly certain that I would dead within a minute if it were activated.
“You will wait here until your trial,” said Natalya, without making eye contact. “I do not think you will be executed, but you most certainly will not walk away freely.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong,” I said.
“That is debatable,” she replied.
“Then debate it.”
“Your thralls. Mental skills that take away the free will of others are forbidden without express permission of the church of Order.”
“I only created Thralls in self defense,” I said. “And the only things I made them do were good things.”
She shrugged. “That’s why it’s debatable. Regardless, you still used forbidden skills, and you are still a Demon King. The extraordinary circumstances may save you from death, but that is all.”
“I’m not a Demon King.” It was technically the truth, as I didn’t have the class.
“Then you will have nothing to worry about,” she said. “I must go and transport the others back. Make yourself comfortable. Someone should be down to interrogate you in a moment, but after that, you may be alone for a while.”
As promised, minutes after Natalya disappeared back through her portal, the thick metal door to my cell opened, and Antonio walked in.
“Hello, Lucy,” he said.
“So you’re my interrogator,” I said. “Get on with it then.”
He stepped closer, frowning– or at least, I thought he was frowning; it was hard to tell if with his feline face.
“Alright then,” he said. “How much blood do you need to survive?”
“Depends on the species,” I said. “I have enough in my inventory to sustain myself for almost a year, if you’ll let me access it.”
“Not a chance,” he said. “So if we were to feed you pig’s blood, how much would you need each day to survive?”
“Three cups. Maybe a quart.”
“And you require no other sustenance, correct?”
“No, but I think I’m allergic to adamantium,” I said. “I might die if I’m stuck chained up like this for too long.”
“Thank you for your time,” he said, turning away.
“Is that all?” I called after him. “What happened to the interrogation?”
He looked back. “I’ve been informed that interrogation will not be effective on you without the presence of Humility. And she has stated that she refuses to participate in any interrogation that’s not public. So for now, all we need to know is how to keep you alive until then.”
“And you came all the way here just to ask me that? Why not have some grunt do it?”
“...I had some free time.” Without waiting for my response, he walked out, the door closing loudly behind him.
I spent the next three days immensely bored. I tried training my aura a bit, but the chains severely restricted my movement, making it impossible to do anything but meditate. I had two guards outside my door. I occasionally heard their footsteps when they changed shifts or spoke, but the door was too thick for them to hear me speak. At the end of the three days though, the door finally opened, and the spell of boredom was temporarily broken.
“Anatoly?” I said when I saw the tall figure ducking to enter.
“Lucy,” he said with a smile. “It’s been a long time.”
“So it has,” I agreed. “No chance you’re here to get me out, right?”
“None,” he said, shaking his head. “However, I did bring these.” He waved his hand, and a stack of books appeared on the floor. “I thought you might be bored.”
“Very,” I said. “Thank you so much.”
I reached down to grab the one on top.
“The Dragon and the Phoenix,” I read aloud. “A romance?”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Yes. A personal favorite of mine,” said Anatoly, nodding. “I believe you will enjoy it as well.”
“I certainly hope so,” I said, idly flipping through the pages. “Are you even allowed to be giving me these though?”
“It was a point of contention, but your captors eventually allowed it. After reading every book themselves and making sure I wasn’t passing you forbidden knowledge, of course.”
“I see,” I said, setting down the book. “So what are things like out there? And where is ‘out there’? Where am I right now?”
“You are underneath the main cathedral in a cell specifically designed to hold Demon Kings,” he replied, summoning an armchair from his inventory to sit on. “And out there it is quite chaotic. Half the city is rejoicing at the capture of a Demon King, and the other half is mourning the loss of Ingrid. The higher-ups in the church are locked into a struggle with Sylvia about your trial. The Saintess is advocating for a private trial, but Sylvia won’t budge on her stance about the public trial. I expect you may be waiting down here for at least a week longer before anything happens on that front.”
“Shit,” I said. “And Sylvia is probably going to win that debate, right?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Dammit. Since when was she Humility anyway? And why is she doing all this?”
“She was always quite humble,” said Anatoly. “She was probably chosen as Humility around the same time that you were chosen as Pride, and only fully accepted her position after the incident between you and the duke.”
“I wasn’t chosen as Pride,” I said, glaring at him.
“It’s alright,” he said soothingly. “I already know you were. I’ve known since we first met.”
“You’ve known wrong,” I said.
He waved his hand, and I felt the mana move around us to form a [Wall of Silence]. “I know you will continue to deny it until it is forced out of you at the trial, but for what it’s worth, I don’t mind. If I did, I would have turned you in as soon as you walked into my shop.”
“Assuming I am the incarnation of Pride, which I’m not, why didn’t you turn me in if you thought I was suspicious?” I asked.
“Because I know Demon Kings, specifically Pride, better than anyone else alive. I know that not all are evil or destructive, and quite a lot of them are actually neither.”
“That’s it? But what if I was an evil and destructive Demon King?”
“Then I would have taken it upon myself to dispose of you. But you are not. And I knew you were not from the very beginning. You reminded me of a Pride that I once knew.” His golden eyes turned dreamy and unfocused. “She was an incredible woman. Proud, but not overbearing. Stubborn and uncompromising, but with a firm moral code. Impossibly talented, but capable of seeing her own faults. Her death was a noble sacrifice that saved countless lives. She was a woman worth believing in, and to me, she was worth devoting my life to. She was my wife, and she was the greatest woman who ever lived.
“While you are clearly a different person from her, there are many similarities. Enough that I decided to take the risk and believe in you too. So far, you have yet to prove my belief unfounded, so I will continue to do so. You may not trust me just yet, but it doesn’t matter. Unless you do something truly terrible, I will remain your friend always, even if the world is against you.”
His words left me speechless. In the back of my mind, there was a voice telling me not to trust him, and that this might all be a ploy to get me to confess, but I could barely hear it over all the other thoughts flying around. I had thought that he was suspiciously helpful from the beginning, but I chalked it up to being intrigued by the sudden appearance of a vampire so long after their extinction. However, if his story was true, that shone a whole new light on everything he had done for me.
“Natalya knew about you as well,” he continued, “but her mother passed away while she was still an infant and they never got to know each other. She believed in me, which is why she didn’t turn you in, but that is all. She likely holds at least some affection for you, but it does not extend far enough to do anything other than arguing against your execution.”
I remained silent. That also explained Natalya’s attitude, and why she had suddenly backed off with her accusations at the beginning of my apprenticeship. Anatoly had probably talked to her. It also explained her more standoffish attitude towards me, compared to her relationships with Anatoly and her grandchildren.
“I know that you still do not trust me enough to let your guard down yet, so I will move on from this topic, but keep what I’ve said in mind. I hope that after the trial, we will be able to have a more open conversation.”
He shifted in his seat and leaned forward, putting his hand on the stack of books.
“In this stack of books, there is one that I wrote personally under a pseudonym. If you can guess which one that is on my next visit, I will give you a gift.”
“What kind of gift?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
The options for gifts that he could give an imprisoned Demon King would be limited. I didn’t see how he could bring me anything that I would actually find valuable, but he wasn’t one to bluff. He had to have something in mind.
“You’ll see,” he said. “I promise it will be worth your while.”
“I look forward to it,” I said. Then suddenly remembering something, I changed the subject again. “How’s Ji-Soo?”
Anatoly’s expression darkened. “Not good,” he said. “The Saintess healed her feet, but her mind is broken. Yesterday, she was found writing a suicide note, and she is currently a half-step away from being imprisoned for her own safety.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Yes. She believes that not only Ingrid’s but also the other mage, Hermina’s death is entirely her fault.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Why would she think that?”
“According to the testimony of the others, she may be correct about Ingrid’s.”
“Oh… But still, how is killing herself going to help. From what I understand, Ingrid died saving her. Wouldn’t suicide just be wasting her efforts?”
“You are correct, and she knows it, but she still can’t accept the fact that she is alive, and that Ingrid is dead. She doesn’t believe she deserves to live.”
“That’s dumb,” I said.
“That’s loss,” said Anatoly. “Have you ever lost someone you were close to?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but stopped myself. I couldn’t tell him about my past without revealing that I remembered my past, which contradicted my earlier story. While he may have been trustworthy, on the off-chance that this was still all a ploy, I couldn’t reveal anything. Instead, I just stared at him, trying to ignore my dad’s face as it danced around inside my head.
“If not, then count yourself lucky,” he continued, seeing my hesitance. “If you have, then you should be able to understand some of what she is feeling. Even if you never had suicidal thoughts like her, you will understand the emptiness that she feels. That combined with the guilt has led to her current state.”
I stayed silent, so Anatoly spoke again.
“I believe that, if given proper treatment, she will be able to recover to some degree of normalcy, but I don’t think she will ever wield a spear again.”
“That… sucks,” I said. “Is there any other news?”
“Wrath and Lust are clashing in Maradona at the moment.”
“What? Why?” That went against everything I had heard about Lust.
“My grandson actually fights in wars quite often,” said Anatoly. “As long as he is ‘paid’, he will help defend any nation. His interference is what led to the stalemate, and ultimately the end of the war between Vivaldi and Ravel. It is also the source of your friend Valentino.”
“What-? Oh. Oh. I see. So the current king of Maradona ‘hired’ Lust to defend the city, and Wrath is attacking?”
“Yes, that is correct,” he said. “So far, the conflict has gone nowhere, but it will escalate soon enough. The church has not made any moves to interfere, though.”
“Interesting,” I said. “I wonder why… This seems like the perfect opportunity to try to take them both out. And Antonio would know that. Which means they must already have a plan, right?”
Before Anatoly could answer, there was a loud knock on the door, and it slowly swung open.
“Sorry, but time’s up,” said a paladin standing in the doorway.
“It seems that it’s time for me to go,” said Anatoly, standing up and storing his armchair. “I will be back in a few days. Try to read all of those before then.”
“I will,” I replied. “Thank you for the books.”
“No problem. I look forward to our next meeting.”
“As do I,” I said.
He gave me one last smile before allowing himself to be escorted out by the guard.
As soon as he was gone, I picked The Dragon and the Phoenix back up and started reading. As Anatoly promised, it was an incredible book. It was a Romeo-and-Juliet-style story about two lovers from opposing kingdoms, trying to find a way to be together while their families tried to kill each other. The two kingdoms had a dragon and a phoenix as their emblems, hence the book title, and although it was a romance, I was amazed by the political aspects of the story as well. Every detail was well thought out, and every character was fully realized. Before I knew it I had reached the end.
I was reaching for the next book in the pile, titled simply Ekaterina, when I felt a wave of spatial mana, and someone else appeared in my room. For a split second, I thought Anatoly had returned. The man before me had the same long ears, the same golden eyes, and the same incredible height, but the look on his face was wrong. When Anatoly smiled, it was a warm smile, filled with wisdom and kindness. This elf’s smile was an cold and unsettling one, almost more like a sneer than a true smile.
“Hello, Pride,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you for ages. My name is Alexander Tchaikovsky, and I am the Demon King of Lust.”