The Demon Queen - Part 1

The preparations were complete.

Three days had passed, and at the first light of dawn, we set out toward Ral’gan—the demon territory where the queen awaited us. Our final objective.

At the moment, we were walking through what appeared to be a city quite similar in appearance to human ones, though far more neglected and completely empty, as if it were a ghost town. It was unsettling.

We had expected to be greeted by a demon army upon arrival, meant to attack us and wear us down as much as possible. That was precisely why we had brought potions, so as not to rely too heavily on Aurelia and her healing magic. But none of that happened. There was only the disturbing silence of the final path of our journey.

To be honest, I felt a little nostalgic.

Garrik and I had begun this journey when we were sixteen years old; now we were nineteen. Three years of travel, during which we faced countless hardships. The pillars of the demon army had undoubtedly been formidable.

Lux Biotoxin and her potent poisons, Grim Razor and her overwhelming magical power, Zell Vixen and his incredible command of earth magic, and the monstrous strength of Karver Von Stein. Each of them had pushed us to the brink, yet we managed to overcome them thanks to careful research and thorough preparations.

Sadly, we know very little about the demon queen. She has remained well hidden all this time, and what little is known comes from the earliest attacks against humanity, in which she played a major role.

We know her fighting style is close-range, making use of her immense strength and agility, and that she has a contract with a fire elemental spirit—something that earned her titles such as the “Burning Queen” or the “Queen of the Dark Flame.”

Having so little information is a problem. Without a doubt, this will be a difficult battle, to say the least.

“Kris, when all of this is over… I’d like to ask you for a favor,” Garrik said, breaking the silence. To be honest, I had noticed something off about him ever since he returned from buying supplies a few days ago.

Unlike when we were at the tavern, he was now wearing armor that, at a glance, looked quite heavy—though to him it was nothing. It was armor made from the finest-quality materials and enchanted to withstand powerful magical attacks. As for its appearance, silver tones predominated, with golden details along the edges and in certain patterns. It was truly impressive.

“Hey, you know saying that is bad luck, right?” I replied in a slightly irritated and nervous tone. It was a common trope in books and plays, and according to Garrik, it was the same in his world.

“Ah! Right…”

“…Well, whatever. What is it?”

“I… I’ll tell you once we make it out of this. So make sure you come back alive.”

His voice sounded nervous, yet strangely resolute. It must be something truly important for him to bring it up now.

“All right. For now, don’t let your guard down. There could be an ambush at any moment.”

“I wish there were. I’m already getting bored…” Tyra added with a yawn.

But the ambush never came. The path continued without complications or setbacks all the way to the demon queen’s castle. With every step we took, the atmosphere grew heavier, but we had no choice but to keep going.

When we finally reached the enormous entrance gate, we all prepared ourselves for battle. We couldn’t afford to let our guard down for even a single moment once inside.

“Let’s go.”

***

The castle was impressive.

From the outside it was large and imposing, and even once we entered, the sheer amount of space made us feel like mere ants. On top of that, the decorations were sparse and somewhat neglected, which only made the place feel even more vast.

Our footsteps echoed throughout the halls. We were prepared for a surprise attack, but just like in the city within the territory, nothing of the sort happened. The sense of loneliness was truly unsettling, and it only grew stronger the farther we advanced.

Tyra, as she looked around, seemed a bit uneasy.

“Dust, will you be able to use your magic in a place like this?”

“Of course. The surfaces of the castle still contain rock or similar materials in their composition. I can feel it.”

At Dust’s response, Tyra relaxed a little. I could understand her doubt. The floor was glossy, colored in shades of purple and covered with carpets—it was hard to believe it was made of any kind of stone.

Eventually, we reached a massive door at the end of the main corridor. The aura emanating from the room beyond was overwhelming even before entering. We all swallowed, looked at one another, and nodded at the same time.

There had been no battles along the way, so we were in our best possible condition to fight.

We also still had the potions I had made. Tyra and Garrik would each carry three vitality potions in case Aurelia wasn’t available to heal them; she and I would only carry one, but we would make up for it with two mana potions each. As for fatigue potions, we had managed to get one for everyone.

Once everything was distributed, Garrik and Tyra approached the door.

“Please be careful, Sir Hero!” Aurelia warned.

“Wait! What about me!?”

“You’ll be fine. After all, weeds never die,” the saint replied with a sweet smile on her face.

“Hey!”

Even after knowing Aurelia for a couple of years now, I was still surprised by how cold she could be toward anyone who wasn’t Garrik…

After that exchange—along with Tyra’s complaints and Garrik’s attempt to comfort her—the two of them opened the door.

The room was quite large, and just like the previous halls, its decoration was sparse and neglected. What stood out the most, however, was the throne and the wall behind it.

The throne sat atop a raised area reached by climbing a large number of steps. It was massive and made of a dark material I couldn’t recognize at a glance, its decorations detailed and elegant, crafted from lighter metals to create contrast. As for the wall, what stood out the most were the banners. There were five in total—two on each side and one directly above the throne. I recognized them immediately.

“Those are…”

“Yes,” I replied to Garrik.

Each banner represented one of the pillars of the demon army. In fact, in every place where we had fought them, there had been one symbolizing each pillar. We hadn’t seen the one in the center before, but it was clear it belonged to the queen, given its additional decorations and larger size compared to the rest.

The hall was striking in its own way, but as for the queen… she wasn’t there.

We moved farther into the room until we reached its center, and only then did we hear a voice—the first voice we had heard since arriving in Ral’gan.

“Welcome.”

The echo of the hall only made it feel even more threatening, and just as we went on guard, someone fell from the ceiling, creating a cloud of dust as they shattered part of the floor in front of us upon impact.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time, ‘heroes,’” the voice said through the dust. There was a clear hint of sarcasm and cynicism in her words, especially at the end.

All of us fixed our gaze on the cloud without blinking, ready for anything, until the dust finally settled.

In its place stood a girl radiating an overwhelming aura. She wore a tight, sleeveless high-collared blouse, bracers, long stockings, what appeared to be a skirt divided into four sections for mobility, boots, and finally a cloak draped over her back—all in black or its variations, except for the cloak, which was a deep purple.

The moment we saw her, everyone grew tense, sweat beginning to form from the pressure of the demon queen’s presence alone. However, I wasn’t nervous.

I was confused.

Aside from her attire and her well-built physique—similar to Tyra’s—the queen was blonde, and her features were beautiful, but above all, familiar. Now her eyes were black with a shining white pupil, she had a small black horn on the exposed part of her forehead, and her mouth was elongated with fangs, like that of a dragon—the most basic traits of a demon. Yet her blonde hair and facial features were unmistakable.

“Now then, I suppose we should—huh?”

Just as she was about to begin the fight, she looked directly at me. Her confident smile instantly turned into utter confusion—just like mine.

“…Kris?”

“…Kara?”

We fell silent for a few seconds after saying each other’s names almost simultaneously, still unable to believe the situation, until finally, we both broke the silence.

““Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!?”” we shouted at the same time, filling not only the hall, but the entire castle with an unparalleled confusion.

The girl I had met days ago—the one I helped free slaves, the one with whom I had made a promise to meet again—turned out to be the demon queen.