Chapter 11:
Chapter Eleven: Free but not free
Saving the demon queen in another world
My level was said to be “Zero.”
I didn’t quite understand what it meant, but one thing was starting to get clear… I was saved.
The crowd, including the two masters, stood speechless—frozen as if a miracle had just occurred.
From the ground, with nothing but a cloth covering my waist, I studied their expressions. The way the guard master dropped his sword told me everything: I wasn’t going to be executed—not with this revelation.
“H-How is that possible…?” His spirit seemed to vanish, and even the guild master looked shaken.
After a pause, the guild master regained his composure and walked toward me with his guard down, convinced I couldn’t do a thing.
> “It struck me as strange the moment I learned of your existence. An evil aura that has never been felt before enveloped the capital, yet you were taken down by a hero’s barrage… it doesn’t make sense. What is your secret? Pujenia can see levels, yes, but she also has a unique magic—she can read a person’s mind, their intentions. And yet… nothing from you. Are you truly so strong that you’ve hidden everything but your aura? Or are you just a weak demon cloaked in an aura twice that of a demon lord? No matter how I reason it, none of this adds up.”
His lion-like voice rumbled, making the air feel heavier.
The guard master retrieved his sword and joined him.
> “I agree, Dra Zindra. Just like you said—none of this makes sense. I was honestly intimidated by his aura. For a moment, I feared he’d destroy the capital if pushed into danger. But… perhaps I read too much into it.”
They debated, their voices echoing with unease, when Rart cut in with a snarl.
> “What is the meaning of this!? Can’t this be another one of his tricks—an ability to hide his level!? Are you really going to let something this dangerous live!?”
“Something…?” If only I had the courage to say that aloud instead of just thinking it.
The masters exchanged glances, uneasy, but they calmed him with the reminder that the king had already issued his orders.
Rart, furious, stormed off with his followers. They vanished as if slipping through dimensions—or perhaps they simply teleported.
At the guard master’s order, my equipment was brought forth. My sword and armor, stripped from me before my imprisonment, gleamed faintly.
> “Hmm… decent quality. Level thirty gear. Strong, if you compare to the average… but what can a level zero do with level thirty equipment?”
He tossed the sword at my feet.
Like a dog obeying its master, I quickly picked it up. Resistance was out of the question.
> “He doesn’t even know how to hold it. Just what in the world is going on here…?”
Satisfied, the guild master turned away and walked toward Milta, who stood watching with anxious eyes.
> “Dra, the space will crumble if you leave so carelessly. At least let us finish.”
But Dra Zindra ignored him. His men began to withdraw, escorting Milta with them.
She didn’t look back. She walked slowly, relieved I was alive, but each step away from me hollowed my chest.
“Where are they taking her…?” I muttered, my voice almost breaking.
> “That’s none of your concern. That girl is a high-ranking figure now. A demon like you has no right to see her.”
With a snap of his fingers, the woman with the orb brought out a bundle of cheap villager’s clothes and dropped them at my feet.
Ordered to dress in front of everyone, I obeyed, the silence of the baffled crowd pressing down on me.
The clothes were coarse and frail—no trace of protection in them. My sword was returned, but my armor was denied.
> “This armor reeks of mid-level magic. Who knows? If we leave it with you, it might burst into demonic power.”
The guild master, who had left earlier, returned, idly digging a finger in his ear.
> “I almost forgot—the only reason we brought him into this conjured space was because his aura was terrifying people below level fifty across the capital. If he stays, we need that aura suppressed. We can’t have panic spreading every time he breathes.”
The guard master nodded.
They stepped closer. Their hands hovered near my head.
A crushing pressure slammed into me.
“AAAARGH!” I collapsed, clutching my skull as the air seemed to fold inward and stab into my body.
> “This is as far as we can suppress it.”
“I think we did well. His aura now barely extends two hundred layi at most.”
It felt like knives piercing my brain, like my very existence was being shoved into a cage.
They both staggered, drained, as the fabricated space around us dissolved. The flower garden Milta had created vanished with it. In its place were cobbled streets and ordinary houses.
> “I spent all my magic suppressing him. If he truly is a demon lord… could we even defeat him?”
“I’ve used up mine as well. That aura is terrifying. I’ve got a bad feeling. For now, let’s put distance between him and the people.”
The guild master grabbed my head in his massive hands—and hurled me into the sky like I was nothing.
The world blurred. The air ripped past me. Then—impact.
A mountain cracked beneath me. My bones shattered.
“Why… why am I being treated like a demon lord…?”
No answers. Only pain. But at least I was alive. And it was all because of Milta.I drifted into unconsciousness in the shallow crater, the stars overhead flickering faintly.
---
When I opened my eyes, it was night. The mountain stretched into darkness.
Strangely, my body felt healed, whole again. No Milta, no healer, but… the wounds were gone.
“Did some of her magic… rub off on me?”
The thought warmed me. For all her tears, all her kindness—meeting her felt like destiny.
She was the only one who stayed by my side.
An aura I can’t see, can’t control… what kind of trial is this?
Could I be someone important they’re trying to erase? A hidden heir? A threat to their throne?
“…Ridiculous.” I shook the thoughts away. This wasn’t even my world.
Still… a week had passed since my summoning, and I had no idea why I was here. Locked up, tortured, hated.
Not everyone was bad. I remembered the kind villagers before the Mighty Week, giving Milta and me food and shelter. Maybe… maybe their fear of me was justified.
But now, alone, standing at a cliff with no moon in the sky, I suddenly felt weak. My legs gave out.
My stomach roared.
The sound was so violent I almost startled myself.
“I bet my stomach could serve as a weapon more powerful than I am…”
It had been days since I last ate. I didn’t know how I was still alive.
But I couldn’t move. Hunger chained me down.
The night stretched on. When dawn came, I dragged myself down the mountain in search of food, weak as a dying snail.
The forest was filled with towering, alien trees. Long leaves. No fruit. Only rocks and unfamiliar herbs.
Desperate, I pocketed the herbs. Last resort.
But dizziness overtook me. I collapsed again and again, chewing bitter leaves just to keep moving.
It was pathetic. Summoned from another world, only to die—hated, starved, forgotten.
Heroes were supposed to be saviors. And me? I’d be remembered as the outcast who starved to death.
If I ever meet the bastard who summoned me, I’ll tear them apart.
Vision blurring, I lay sprawled, ready to surrender to death.
Then I saw it. Something big. Round.
“…A fruit? Or just a stone?”
Didn’t matter. With the last of my strength, I bit into it.
Sweet juice burst across my tongue.
My eyes widened.
“It’s… sweet…!”
Energy surged through me. My trembling hands grasped the object—devoured it.
And when my sight cleared, my heart nearly stopped. A field stretched before me. A field filled with them.
Big, round, red—like watermelons.
Not green-skinned like the ones from my world. Red-skinned, but unmistakable.
I laughed, delirious.
“I’m alive!!!”
I didn’t quite understand what it meant, but one thing was starting to get clear… I was saved.
The crowd, including the two masters, stood speechless—frozen as if a miracle had just occurred.
From the ground, with nothing but a cloth covering my waist, I studied their expressions. The way the guard master dropped his sword told me everything: I wasn’t going to be executed—not with this revelation.
“H-How is that possible…?” His spirit seemed to vanish, and even the guild master looked shaken.
After a pause, the guild master regained his composure and walked toward me with his guard down, convinced I couldn’t do a thing.
> “It struck me as strange the moment I learned of your existence. An evil aura that has never been felt before enveloped the capital, yet you were taken down by a hero’s barrage… it doesn’t make sense. What is your secret? Pujenia can see levels, yes, but she also has a unique magic—she can read a person’s mind, their intentions. And yet… nothing from you. Are you truly so strong that you’ve hidden everything but your aura? Or are you just a weak demon cloaked in an aura twice that of a demon lord? No matter how I reason it, none of this adds up.”
His lion-like voice rumbled, making the air feel heavier.
The guard master retrieved his sword and joined him.
> “I agree, Dra Zindra. Just like you said—none of this makes sense. I was honestly intimidated by his aura. For a moment, I feared he’d destroy the capital if pushed into danger. But… perhaps I read too much into it.”
They debated, their voices echoing with unease, when Rart cut in with a snarl.
> “What is the meaning of this!? Can’t this be another one of his tricks—an ability to hide his level!? Are you really going to let something this dangerous live!?”
“Something…?” If only I had the courage to say that aloud instead of just thinking it.
The masters exchanged glances, uneasy, but they calmed him with the reminder that the king had already issued his orders.
Rart, furious, stormed off with his followers. They vanished as if slipping through dimensions—or perhaps they simply teleported.
At the guard master’s order, my equipment was brought forth. My sword and armor, stripped from me before my imprisonment, gleamed faintly.
> “Hmm… decent quality. Level thirty gear. Strong, if you compare to the average… but what can a level zero do with level thirty equipment?”
He tossed the sword at my feet.
Like a dog obeying its master, I quickly picked it up. Resistance was out of the question.
> “He doesn’t even know how to hold it. Just what in the world is going on here…?”
Satisfied, the guild master turned away and walked toward Milta, who stood watching with anxious eyes.
> “Dra, the space will crumble if you leave so carelessly. At least let us finish.”
But Dra Zindra ignored him. His men began to withdraw, escorting Milta with them.
She didn’t look back. She walked slowly, relieved I was alive, but each step away from me hollowed my chest.
“Where are they taking her…?” I muttered, my voice almost breaking.
> “That’s none of your concern. That girl is a high-ranking figure now. A demon like you has no right to see her.”
With a snap of his fingers, the woman with the orb brought out a bundle of cheap villager’s clothes and dropped them at my feet.
Ordered to dress in front of everyone, I obeyed, the silence of the baffled crowd pressing down on me.
The clothes were coarse and frail—no trace of protection in them. My sword was returned, but my armor was denied.
> “This armor reeks of mid-level magic. Who knows? If we leave it with you, it might burst into demonic power.”
The guild master, who had left earlier, returned, idly digging a finger in his ear.
> “I almost forgot—the only reason we brought him into this conjured space was because his aura was terrifying people below level fifty across the capital. If he stays, we need that aura suppressed. We can’t have panic spreading every time he breathes.”
The guard master nodded.
They stepped closer. Their hands hovered near my head.
A crushing pressure slammed into me.
“AAAARGH!” I collapsed, clutching my skull as the air seemed to fold inward and stab into my body.
> “This is as far as we can suppress it.”
“I think we did well. His aura now barely extends two hundred layi at most.”
It felt like knives piercing my brain, like my very existence was being shoved into a cage.
They both staggered, drained, as the fabricated space around us dissolved. The flower garden Milta had created vanished with it. In its place were cobbled streets and ordinary houses.
> “I spent all my magic suppressing him. If he truly is a demon lord… could we even defeat him?”
“I’ve used up mine as well. That aura is terrifying. I’ve got a bad feeling. For now, let’s put distance between him and the people.”
The guild master grabbed my head in his massive hands—and hurled me into the sky like I was nothing.
The world blurred. The air ripped past me. Then—impact.
A mountain cracked beneath me. My bones shattered.
“Why… why am I being treated like a demon lord…?”
No answers. Only pain. But at least I was alive. And it was all because of Milta.I drifted into unconsciousness in the shallow crater, the stars overhead flickering faintly.
---
When I opened my eyes, it was night. The mountain stretched into darkness.
Strangely, my body felt healed, whole again. No Milta, no healer, but… the wounds were gone.
“Did some of her magic… rub off on me?”
The thought warmed me. For all her tears, all her kindness—meeting her felt like destiny.
She was the only one who stayed by my side.
An aura I can’t see, can’t control… what kind of trial is this?
Could I be someone important they’re trying to erase? A hidden heir? A threat to their throne?
“…Ridiculous.” I shook the thoughts away. This wasn’t even my world.
Still… a week had passed since my summoning, and I had no idea why I was here. Locked up, tortured, hated.
Not everyone was bad. I remembered the kind villagers before the Mighty Week, giving Milta and me food and shelter. Maybe… maybe their fear of me was justified.
But now, alone, standing at a cliff with no moon in the sky, I suddenly felt weak. My legs gave out.
My stomach roared.
The sound was so violent I almost startled myself.
“I bet my stomach could serve as a weapon more powerful than I am…”
It had been days since I last ate. I didn’t know how I was still alive.
But I couldn’t move. Hunger chained me down.
The night stretched on. When dawn came, I dragged myself down the mountain in search of food, weak as a dying snail.
The forest was filled with towering, alien trees. Long leaves. No fruit. Only rocks and unfamiliar herbs.
Desperate, I pocketed the herbs. Last resort.
But dizziness overtook me. I collapsed again and again, chewing bitter leaves just to keep moving.
It was pathetic. Summoned from another world, only to die—hated, starved, forgotten.
Heroes were supposed to be saviors. And me? I’d be remembered as the outcast who starved to death.
If I ever meet the bastard who summoned me, I’ll tear them apart.
Vision blurring, I lay sprawled, ready to surrender to death.
Then I saw it. Something big. Round.
“…A fruit? Or just a stone?”
Didn’t matter. With the last of my strength, I bit into it.
Sweet juice burst across my tongue.
My eyes widened.
“It’s… sweet…!”
Energy surged through me. My trembling hands grasped the object—devoured it.
And when my sight cleared, my heart nearly stopped. A field stretched before me. A field filled with them.
Big, round, red—like watermelons.
Not green-skinned like the ones from my world. Red-skinned, but unmistakable.
I laughed, delirious.
“I’m alive!!!”
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