『Demon King!』

Rumble!

Clay collapsed under the pressure, Siltnaro crying out from his side.

‘What is this?’

He could not understand why the magic circle was affecting even him.

“Demon King!”

A voice called from afar—

“Are you all right?!”

It was Geshkafor, charging toward him. Unlike Clay, he seemed unaffected by the circle.

“Geshkafor.”

Clay’s voice was strained.

“We must get out. Can you help me?”

“Yes!”

He reached to hoist Clay onto his back.

“Ghhk!”

But the force pressing on Clay was immense. Geshkafor could not lift him.

“Wh-what… is this?!”

He gritted his teeth, confused, straining harder.

“Rrraghhh!”

Crack!

Though he could not shoulder Clay, he managed to drag him. Step by step, he hauled him forward.

Scrraaape!

Clay’s feet tore long gouges in the ground as they were pulled, rooted as if nailed to the floor.

『Demon King, should I change form to aid you?』

“No.”

Clay’s refusal was firm.

“I don’t know how this circle works. It’s clearly targeting me. If its range extends to anything near me, transforming would be dangerous.”

Perhaps Siltnaro remained unaffected only because she was in sword form. If Clay was the true target, then even his weapon could be ensnared.

“Demon… King. What is this place?”

Dragging him, Geshkafor’s eyes darted around the cavern.

“Was something hidden here all along?”

Time was running out, yet even he couldn’t hold back his questions. Clay’s gaze turned to the passage ahead.

But he had no answer to give. He himself didn’t know what this had been created for.

“Ghhhk!”

At last, struggling and breathless, Geshkafor reached the pit’s base.

“D-Demon King, we’re here!”

“It seems you can’t lift me up there…”

Clay looked up.

It wasn’t that high, and yet, from here, it felt impossibly distant—like the blazing sun itself.

“Clay!”

A voice rang out from above.

“You’re alive?!”

Beatrice. She leaned over the edge, shock in her face.

“Come up quickly!”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Clay let out a bitter laugh, “I need your help, Beatrice.”

At once she looked ready to dive down—but then a crash shook the air.

BOOM! CRASH! THUD!

Explosions thundered above. Enemies were still up there.

Thunk!

Something snapped, tumbling down into the pit. It struck the floor—it was another Lutanox.

『How many more…』

Siltnaro’s voice was weary.

‘This place feels closer to chaos itself than the demon realm.’

Even Clay was forced to admit the endless copies, sprouting without end, were more nightmarish than hellspawn.

“Clay!”

Beatrice finally descended into the pit.

“I’ll get you out!”

She seized Clay from Geshkafor, locking her arms around him, and kicked off the ground.

Crunch!

The instant she held him, the circle’s force spread to her. Her feet were driven into the ground.

“!”

She tried again, leaping—but only managed a brief lift before crashing back down.

“Clay!” she cried.

“The circle… it’s affecting me as long as I hold you!”

“Is it overwhelming you?”

“Not as badly as you—but I can’t… like this!”

Then she crushed him tightly to her chest.

“Then I’ll force it!”

FWOOM!

Flames erupted, blasting upward beneath them.

“Rrrraaaaaagh!”

Beatrice’s roar echoed as she heaved herself free, carrying Clay out of the pit. Away from the circle, Clay felt his body slowly return to him.

“Khuhh!”

Thrown down onto the stone floor above, he coughed harshly.

“Damn…”

He had known a trap was likely—but never imagined it would be this.

“Demon King!”

“Are you unharmed?!”

The Demon King’s soldiers rushed in. Naiad darted to Clay’s side, her face pale.

“Clay! Are you all right? What happened?!”

“Naiad.”

“It was a trap, wasn’t it? I knew it!”

Her anger blazed in her eyes.

“Is Lutan down there?!”

“Lutan…”

“It’s fine if you didn’t finish him! I’ll hold him down—you just rest—”

“Don’t.”

Clay’s hand barred her path.

“Lutan is already dead.”

“What?” Naiad’s expression went blank, “What do you mean?”

“Exactly that.” Clay’s face twisted, “He was long dead. I don’t know why.”

“He was already… dead?”

Beatrice knelt at his side.

“Who killed him?”

“I couldn’t confirm. But there’s another hand behind this.”

If Lutan was gone, then their clear enemy was gone as well. Krata itself no longer made sense.

“For now—we withdraw.”

Clay forced the decision.

“We don’t know what’s about to happen. We can’t remain here. Pull the army back, Beatrice.”

“…Understood.”

Though her face was heavy with doubt, Beatrice turned to give the order to Geshkafor, who had just climbed back up.

“Geshkafor. Withdraw the entire Demon King’s army with Damon.”

“As you command.”

Geshkafor immediately barked the order to the soldiers within the palace.

“Everyone, retreat from the capital of Krata! Move quickly!”

As the Demon King’s forces streamed out of the palace, only Clay, Siltnaro, Beatrice, and Naiad remained.

“Clay.”

No—there was one more.

“Has something happened?”

The Empress of Ezer, Tia de Mezelef, had pushed through the army and entered the chamber.

“Tia.”

Naiad flew to intercept her in alarm.

“Leave this place.”

“If there is a problem, I will resolve it.”

“You cannot.” Naiad spoke sharply, “Lutan is dead.”

“Lutan?” Tia’s eyes widened, “He’s dead?”

“Yes. Which means this isn’t something you can resolve.”

The enemy’s leader was gone—yet Krata’s soldiers still moved, and a magic circle capable of suppressing even Clay had been activated.

“Someone else is at work here.”

It could only mean another power was moving Krata in Lutan’s stead—someone beyond Elhaen, who had not descended to earth.

“There is nothing you can do.”

Naiad’s voice was firm.

“Go back.”

“…”

Tia’s eyes lingered on Clay. He said nothing, only stood grimly silent. At last she spoke again.

“Clay.”

“…”

“Is there nothing I can do?”

Still no answer. This time, Beatrice rose instead.

“You can do nothing. We don’t even know what is happening here.”

“Then I can find out.”

At that, Beatrice’s brow twitched.

“What did you say?”

“My power is different from yours. It overlaps with Clay’s, but no one would have woven a trap specifically against me as well.”

Tia moved toward the pit.

“Then I will see for myself what is happening.”

“Wait—!”

Beatrice’s protest had no time to reach her. Tia leapt into the pit.

She landed softly, and her eyes fell at once on the glowing red sigil etched into the floor.

‘This is…’

A ritual seal for breaking a substitute—identical to what they had found in Yaphenon.

‘Why… here?’

Why was such a circle inscribed here? Why had it bound even Clay? Tia pressed onward, passing through the torch-lit passage.

“!”

Ahead, her eyes widened.

Prisons. Cages filled with demons—yet all of them were dead, long withered, bodies slumped in silence.

“What is this…”

Her pace quickened, tension mounting.

And though she could feel the circle’s force at work, it was little more than a pressure. Unlike Clay, she was not bound.

‘Of course…’

Clay alone had borne its full brunt. Even the other demons with him had not seemed so hindered. That was why they had managed to pull him free.

At last, her steps slowed. She had reached that place.

“…”

Lutan.

He lay there, already long dead. Just as Clay and the others had said—the emperor was gone from the stage.

‘Who… did this?’

Her mind raced, but no answer came. She glanced around as the cavern shook. The magic circle flared brighter, the underground chamber trembling as rocks fell from above.

‘The seal… it’s breaking.’

They were trying to awaken a god. And Tia could guess which one.

‘The God of Creation—Crea.’

Only a deity of that magnitude would warrant such a summoning in Krata itself.

‘But why?’

Why would those who worshiped Elhaen call forth Crea? What did they hope to achieve?

“You came.”

A voice.

Tia’s head snapped around.

“I was waiting for you.”

A familiar face stepped from the shadows, revealing himself at last.

Her breath caught.

“You…”

“Yes. You know me already. But the situation has changed—so I should introduce myself again.”

He bowed with a faint smile.

Crown Prince of Krata. Once an ally of Clay.

“Neville von Lagnarich.”

He straightened, his eyes fixed on her.

“Greetings, Empress of Ezer.”

(End of Chapter)