Chapter 10:
Chapter Ten: Fraudster Demon lord
Saving the demon queen in another world
“AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!”
Deep in sleep with a fatigued body and mind, an intense heat that reached the core of my being enveloped me.
My reaction was instant—I jumped wildly to the ceiling, my body engulfed in fire.
Falling back to the ground, I rolled desperately, trying to put out the flames. Every time I rolled, a portion of my skin tore off, burning and raw.
Through the haze, I caught sight of red flames being hurled at me from inside the cell.
With reflexes far sharper than normal, I flipped in a somersault and pressed my back against the wall, facing the enemies who stood only three meters inside the cell.
There were five of them. Three—including a child no older than ten—had their hands raised in a chanting pose.
I couldn’t understand what was happening. As I tried to speak, their voices quickened, and then they shouted in unison:
“Basilin Flames!!!”
This time my reaction was faster, already tracking the arc of the flames—or so I thought.
I dove to my right, but a sharp pain lanced through me. In the next instant, just below my right elbow, my entire arm was gone.
“AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!” My eyes rolled white, but I knew if I passed out now, nothing would be left of me when I woke.
Dodging the fire from the three in front, I realized too late that the other two had repositioned to my sides. I barely avoided the flames, but a girl, only a few years older than me, cut off my arm while my attention was elsewhere.
The man to my left, much older, stood with his fist clenched, waiting for his chance.
Pain roared through my skull. My severed arm lay on the floor, and almost without thinking, I bent to pick it up.
But the moment I reached down, a swoosh split the air above me. Strands of my hair fell like ash to the floor.
I didn’t need anyone to tell me what had happened—had I moved a second later, it wouldn’t just be my arm at risk.
Clutching my severed arm, I bolted toward the open cell door.
“Move!!” I screamed, anguish tearing my throat.
The hands of the three firecasters tracked me, ready to unleash again.
But just a meter from the door—my imagined escape—a crushing weight slammed into my stomach. The force flung me back across the cell, ribs shattering as I hit the wall.
I collapsed, sitting against the stone, blood dripping from my eyes.
And then, as if waiting for this perfect moment, the three chanted again and screamed:
“Red Basilin Flames!!!”
The blaze engulfed me.
Drip… drip…At first faint, then louder—the sound of water droplets after rain.
I gasped, violently sucking air back into my lungs, dragging life from the void.
Blinking, I looked at my wounds—yet my skin was flawless. Softer, smoother, more beautiful than ever.
“Was that all a dream…? Or did Milta heal me?”
The cell door stood wide open. My body was whole, perfectly normal. I stood naked, dazed, scanning for guards. None.
The smell of ash lingered, the stone floor scorched black. No—this wasn’t a dream. But why was the door open? Why no guards?
“After all that… can I really leave this place?” Tears welled and spilled freely down my cheeks.
No. I have to run. Even if they won’t let me.
Stark naked, I dashed out, turning toward the corridor the guards always came from.
The maze-like passage was lit with luminous stones, my bare feet slapping against the stone as I ran.
I grabbed discarded equipment along the way—signs I was moving closer to the exit.
Finally, I found stairs leading up to a small door set in the ceiling, sunlight streaming through.
“This is it!!” My heart thundered as I sprinted.
Creak!
The door opened fully, and a massive guard’s head appeared.
“Move!!” I roared, voice raw with rage and desperation.
He didn’t flinch.
I clenched my fist and swung. My blow wouldn’t have even reached if he were standing upright—
Klaaam!!
A blunt impact smashed into the back of my skull.
“Not this again…!” Darkness swallowed me.
---
When I came to, chains bound me once again in the same cell. Ten guards stood watch outside.
“Sniff… sniff…” Tears leaked as I sat tied to the wall.
“They said you were dead for sure,” muttered the big guard who had blocked the door earlier. “Guess even they lie sometimes. Strange they’d let you live, considering killing’s their favorite job.”
I averted my eyes, silently crying.
“All right, let’s have some fun!!” the guards shouted.
The first man stepped in, dagger in hand.
“Ready, set… go!” He hurled the blade straight at my head.
“Ow!!” I jerked aside, the dagger grazing me.
“Too bad—almost had him!” they laughed.
One by one, they threw, daggers flashing. The rule: don’t hit the head.
I knelt, hands bound overhead, dodging desperately.
Five daggers, five close calls.
Then it was the turn of the hulking fool. He closed his eyes, aimed carelessly—
“AAARRRGGGHHH!!” His dagger buried itself deep in my left shoulder.
I had dodged—yet the blade seemed to bend in midair.
“This is how it’s done, boys,” he grinned. He threw another—straight into my right shoulder.
The others followed, every strike landing true as if guided by magic. My body became their target board.
Time lost meaning. My body healed, but my soul… my soul was scarred beyond repair.
I began to count, predicting the hours until they returned.
And when that time came, the hero himself appeared.
Chains slithered out, wrapping my bloodied body.
“Say hello to my chains.”
They dragged me through the underground prison, up into the light.
The sun—blinding, searing. A gift I hadn’t seen in ages.
Like a criminal, I was hauled through town, guards and subordinates marching behind. The rough ground tore my flesh, every inch agony.
Finally, we reached a vast crowd gathered around a colossal tree—over sixty meters tall, surrounded by rivers, flowers, and statues.
“Heal!”
Warmth spread across my body, bruises vanishing.
“Iiten, are you all right!?”
That gentle voice…
“Milta…”
Tears streaked her cheeks as she ran to me.
“What cruelty… You did nothing wrong. Why must you suffer like this?” She knelt, cradling my head, sobbing.
“You don’t have to cry, Milta. It’s not your fault. Thank you… for always saving me.”
I forced myself to my feet under the weight of so many stares.
“Ms. Milta, it’s time to proceed with the assessments,” a young woman in white said, carrying thick documents.
Milta’s appearance stunned me. No longer in her simple healer’s garb, she wore a pure white dress, a nun’s hat—expensive, ceremonial. How long had I been imprisoned?
Not now. Questions can wait.
“You’ve been detained a week with no sustenance,” Milta said softly. “I hope this ends quickly.”
A week…? Only a week? It had felt like eternity.
She led me toward the great tree, where three figures stood apart: a scarred beast-man with arms crossed, a golden-armored knight with a massive sword, and a short-haired woman dressed provocatively.
“Stay back until she’s finished!” guards barked, crossing spears before me.
Milta gave me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry anymore.”
She received a transparent orb the size of a tennis ball. Holding it in both hands, she squeezed.
The ball glowed, its light so bright it blinded the crowd. When it faded, a breathtaking field of flowers had bloomed beside the great tree.
“Wooooow!!” cheers erupted.
“She’s amazing!”“No wonder she’s a level 67 healer!”
Level 67…? That’s high? Back home, that would be beginner-level.
The beast-man was guild master, the armored knight the guard master. Normally Milta would choose, but the king had already ordered her to join the guild.
Then, all eyes turned to me.
“What…?” I had no time to ask before I was kicked to the ground before the guard master.
“Stand, vermin! If you’re dangerous, you go straight to hell!” he snarled.
“Don’t worry,” the beast-man rumbled. “We’ll only kill you if you’re above level 80. Otherwise, you’re nothing.”
Badump. Badump.
My heartbeat thundered.
What if they’re right? What if I am a demon lord?
The woman with the orb tossed it to me. My trembling hands missed, and the crowd erupted in laughter.
“Pick it up!!” the guard master barked.
Blinded by tears, I fumbled on the ground. The woman scoffed and shoved it into my hands.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please, not above 80…
Silence fell.
Were they terrified? Had I killed them all?
I opened my eyes. Faces stared in shock—the orb remained dark.
“What’s the meaning of this!? Why won’t it assess him? Where is Pujenia!?” the guild master roared.
A tall woman with blue hair and glasses hurried forward. “Here, guild master!”
“Use your level-assessment skill,” he commanded.
“Yes!” She circled me, adjusted her glasses, then leapt back in shock.
“Guild master… i-it’s impossible!!”
“Oh? Just as I thought. His head is mine!” The guard master raised his sword to strike.
“Please wait!!” she cried.
“How dare you stop me!”
“I-I’m sorry! But… his level… is zero!!”
The sword slipped from the guard master’s hands, clattering to the ground. The impact sent a shockwave that hurled me back.
“Level zero!!??” the crowd roared in disbelief.
Deep in sleep with a fatigued body and mind, an intense heat that reached the core of my being enveloped me.
My reaction was instant—I jumped wildly to the ceiling, my body engulfed in fire.
Falling back to the ground, I rolled desperately, trying to put out the flames. Every time I rolled, a portion of my skin tore off, burning and raw.
Through the haze, I caught sight of red flames being hurled at me from inside the cell.
With reflexes far sharper than normal, I flipped in a somersault and pressed my back against the wall, facing the enemies who stood only three meters inside the cell.
There were five of them. Three—including a child no older than ten—had their hands raised in a chanting pose.
I couldn’t understand what was happening. As I tried to speak, their voices quickened, and then they shouted in unison:
“Basilin Flames!!!”
This time my reaction was faster, already tracking the arc of the flames—or so I thought.
I dove to my right, but a sharp pain lanced through me. In the next instant, just below my right elbow, my entire arm was gone.
“AAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!” My eyes rolled white, but I knew if I passed out now, nothing would be left of me when I woke.
Dodging the fire from the three in front, I realized too late that the other two had repositioned to my sides. I barely avoided the flames, but a girl, only a few years older than me, cut off my arm while my attention was elsewhere.
The man to my left, much older, stood with his fist clenched, waiting for his chance.
Pain roared through my skull. My severed arm lay on the floor, and almost without thinking, I bent to pick it up.
But the moment I reached down, a swoosh split the air above me. Strands of my hair fell like ash to the floor.
I didn’t need anyone to tell me what had happened—had I moved a second later, it wouldn’t just be my arm at risk.
Clutching my severed arm, I bolted toward the open cell door.
“Move!!” I screamed, anguish tearing my throat.
The hands of the three firecasters tracked me, ready to unleash again.
But just a meter from the door—my imagined escape—a crushing weight slammed into my stomach. The force flung me back across the cell, ribs shattering as I hit the wall.
I collapsed, sitting against the stone, blood dripping from my eyes.
And then, as if waiting for this perfect moment, the three chanted again and screamed:
“Red Basilin Flames!!!”
The blaze engulfed me.
Drip… drip…At first faint, then louder—the sound of water droplets after rain.
I gasped, violently sucking air back into my lungs, dragging life from the void.
Blinking, I looked at my wounds—yet my skin was flawless. Softer, smoother, more beautiful than ever.
“Was that all a dream…? Or did Milta heal me?”
The cell door stood wide open. My body was whole, perfectly normal. I stood naked, dazed, scanning for guards. None.
The smell of ash lingered, the stone floor scorched black. No—this wasn’t a dream. But why was the door open? Why no guards?
“After all that… can I really leave this place?” Tears welled and spilled freely down my cheeks.
No. I have to run. Even if they won’t let me.
Stark naked, I dashed out, turning toward the corridor the guards always came from.
The maze-like passage was lit with luminous stones, my bare feet slapping against the stone as I ran.
I grabbed discarded equipment along the way—signs I was moving closer to the exit.
Finally, I found stairs leading up to a small door set in the ceiling, sunlight streaming through.
“This is it!!” My heart thundered as I sprinted.
Creak!
The door opened fully, and a massive guard’s head appeared.
“Move!!” I roared, voice raw with rage and desperation.
He didn’t flinch.
I clenched my fist and swung. My blow wouldn’t have even reached if he were standing upright—
Klaaam!!
A blunt impact smashed into the back of my skull.
“Not this again…!” Darkness swallowed me.
---
When I came to, chains bound me once again in the same cell. Ten guards stood watch outside.
“Sniff… sniff…” Tears leaked as I sat tied to the wall.
“They said you were dead for sure,” muttered the big guard who had blocked the door earlier. “Guess even they lie sometimes. Strange they’d let you live, considering killing’s their favorite job.”
I averted my eyes, silently crying.
“All right, let’s have some fun!!” the guards shouted.
The first man stepped in, dagger in hand.
“Ready, set… go!” He hurled the blade straight at my head.
“Ow!!” I jerked aside, the dagger grazing me.
“Too bad—almost had him!” they laughed.
One by one, they threw, daggers flashing. The rule: don’t hit the head.
I knelt, hands bound overhead, dodging desperately.
Five daggers, five close calls.
Then it was the turn of the hulking fool. He closed his eyes, aimed carelessly—
“AAARRRGGGHHH!!” His dagger buried itself deep in my left shoulder.
I had dodged—yet the blade seemed to bend in midair.
“This is how it’s done, boys,” he grinned. He threw another—straight into my right shoulder.
The others followed, every strike landing true as if guided by magic. My body became their target board.
Time lost meaning. My body healed, but my soul… my soul was scarred beyond repair.
I began to count, predicting the hours until they returned.
And when that time came, the hero himself appeared.
Chains slithered out, wrapping my bloodied body.
“Say hello to my chains.”
They dragged me through the underground prison, up into the light.
The sun—blinding, searing. A gift I hadn’t seen in ages.
Like a criminal, I was hauled through town, guards and subordinates marching behind. The rough ground tore my flesh, every inch agony.
Finally, we reached a vast crowd gathered around a colossal tree—over sixty meters tall, surrounded by rivers, flowers, and statues.
“Heal!”
Warmth spread across my body, bruises vanishing.
“Iiten, are you all right!?”
That gentle voice…
“Milta…”
Tears streaked her cheeks as she ran to me.
“What cruelty… You did nothing wrong. Why must you suffer like this?” She knelt, cradling my head, sobbing.
“You don’t have to cry, Milta. It’s not your fault. Thank you… for always saving me.”
I forced myself to my feet under the weight of so many stares.
“Ms. Milta, it’s time to proceed with the assessments,” a young woman in white said, carrying thick documents.
Milta’s appearance stunned me. No longer in her simple healer’s garb, she wore a pure white dress, a nun’s hat—expensive, ceremonial. How long had I been imprisoned?
Not now. Questions can wait.
“You’ve been detained a week with no sustenance,” Milta said softly. “I hope this ends quickly.”
A week…? Only a week? It had felt like eternity.
She led me toward the great tree, where three figures stood apart: a scarred beast-man with arms crossed, a golden-armored knight with a massive sword, and a short-haired woman dressed provocatively.
“Stay back until she’s finished!” guards barked, crossing spears before me.
Milta gave me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry anymore.”
She received a transparent orb the size of a tennis ball. Holding it in both hands, she squeezed.
The ball glowed, its light so bright it blinded the crowd. When it faded, a breathtaking field of flowers had bloomed beside the great tree.
“Wooooow!!” cheers erupted.
“She’s amazing!”“No wonder she’s a level 67 healer!”
Level 67…? That’s high? Back home, that would be beginner-level.
The beast-man was guild master, the armored knight the guard master. Normally Milta would choose, but the king had already ordered her to join the guild.
Then, all eyes turned to me.
“What…?” I had no time to ask before I was kicked to the ground before the guard master.
“Stand, vermin! If you’re dangerous, you go straight to hell!” he snarled.
“Don’t worry,” the beast-man rumbled. “We’ll only kill you if you’re above level 80. Otherwise, you’re nothing.”
Badump. Badump.
My heartbeat thundered.
What if they’re right? What if I am a demon lord?
The woman with the orb tossed it to me. My trembling hands missed, and the crowd erupted in laughter.
“Pick it up!!” the guard master barked.
Blinded by tears, I fumbled on the ground. The woman scoffed and shoved it into my hands.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please, not above 80…
Silence fell.
Were they terrified? Had I killed them all?
I opened my eyes. Faces stared in shock—the orb remained dark.
“What’s the meaning of this!? Why won’t it assess him? Where is Pujenia!?” the guild master roared.
A tall woman with blue hair and glasses hurried forward. “Here, guild master!”
“Use your level-assessment skill,” he commanded.
“Yes!” She circled me, adjusted her glasses, then leapt back in shock.
“Guild master… i-it’s impossible!!”
“Oh? Just as I thought. His head is mine!” The guard master raised his sword to strike.
“Please wait!!” she cried.
“How dare you stop me!”
“I-I’m sorry! But… his level… is zero!!”
The sword slipped from the guard master’s hands, clattering to the ground. The impact sent a shockwave that hurled me back.
“Level zero!!??” the crowd roared in disbelief.
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