After walking through the dense, unforgiving forest for an entire grueling week, we finally arrived at the hidden demon village known as Kraven.
It wasn't nearly as massive or imposing as the fortified Demon City we had visited before. The local population seemed incredibly sparse, and the entire layout felt significantly less like a proper, functioning village and far more like a chaotic, temporary shelter for displaced refugees.
Standing right at the rusted entrance gate, I peered into the settlement and called out, "Oii…?"
I glanced back over my shoulder at Valkira and Verixa, my eyes writing a script of pure skepticism.
"Hm?" Verixa responded, blinking.
"This is the place, right? I'm not entirely mistaken… right?" I asked, gesturing weakly to the dilapidated huts. "Because from where I'm standing, this doesn't look like a village at all."
"What on earth are you saying?" Valkira asked, looking around with an incredibly straight face, seemingly completely unaware of just how terrible the settlement looked. "Didn't I just inform you that this is the village?"
Alira leaned in close to my ear, her long, pointed ears twitching as she whispered with a mix of deep confusion and concern, "Zacken… isn't this place just a glorified junkyard?"
"I was honestly thinking the exact same thing," I replied in a hushed tone.
But apparently, a demon general's ears were far too sharp.
"Do not insult the village!" Valkira snapped, though her voice instantly lost its edge as her eyes followed a rowdy group of nearby demons violently brawling over a single, half-empty bottle of stale beer. Her shoulders slumped, and her head drooped slightly. "Maybe… maybe it is not in the absolute best aesthetic condition right now… but still!"
Seeing her genuine disappointment, I felt a pang of guilt and tried my best to cheer her up. "Hey, look, maybe this is just the outer perimeter. Once we go a little deeper past the gates, it'll probably look more like a proper, dignified village…" I paused, lowering my voice to a mumble, "Probably."
"Yes! Exactly! You are entirely right, Zacken!" Valkira said quickly, practically begging herself to believe the lie. "This might seem like a junkya—I mean, a slightly disorganized village at first glance, but the demons residing here are bound to be incredibly supportive, disciplined, and well-mannered."
Verixa immediately pinched her small nose with two fingers to block out the overwhelming stench of garbage and sour alcohol wafting through the air. "For a demon village, this really is just a trash heap."
An agonizing silence fell over our group, our heads collectively dropping in profound disappointment.
"I think it would be best if we went to go meet the village chief first," I finally suggested, breaking the heavy atmosphere.
We began marching deeper into the slums, awkwardly stopping to ask for directions from the passing villagers. The local demons stared at me and Alira with deep-seated hostility, their eyes narrowing as if they were calculating the exact trajectory to launch an attack—but the moment their gazes drifted to the towering, heavily armored presence of Valkira, they visibly hesitated, a flicker of raw fear flashing in their eyes.
Eventually, we arrived in front of a structure that looked like the only house in the entire sector that was even remotely normal. I stepped up to the wooden frame and knocked firmly on the door.
"Coming…!" a gruff, raspy voice shouted from within.
The door creaked open, and the introductory sentence died completely in my throat.
Standing in the doorway was an old, entirely bald demon with a long, unkempt white beard. His maximum height barely reached my chest, and he currently had his arms draped around two beautiful, heavily made-up female demons. The suffocatingly strong stench of cheap liquor wafted out from the room like a physical wave.
"Huh… hiccup…" The old man squinted his bloodshot eyes, lazily counting our party. "One… two… three… four… hiccup. What do you all want? If it is something important, come back tomorrow. I am extremely busy."
Slam!
He shut the door directly in our faces.
"This place is completely, utterly hopeless," Alira sighed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and raising her chin proudly. "At the very least, my village chief would never conduct himself in such a disgraceful manner."
Valkira's veins practically popped on her forehead. She gritted her teeth and took a menacing step forward, but Verixa quickly reached out a hand to halt her.
"Allow me to handle this, Valkira. Once this old fool realizes that the rightful Demon Queen herself has graced his doorstep, he will immediately drop to his knees and beg for our royal forgiveness," she said, puffing out her flat chest with supreme confidence.
Verixa knocked loudly on the wood. The old man dragged the door open a second time, looking thoroughly annoyed.
"Hey, old man! Be immensely grateful that I, the mighty Demon Queen, have personally come here to—"
Before she could finish her grand speech, the old chief gave her a long, slow look up and down, his eyes pausing deliberately at her chest.
"Rejected. Way too flat," he said bluntly.
Slam!
He shut the door again.
A split second of dead silence passed before a loud, involuntary laugh escaped my lips. I couldn't help it.
Verixa's proud expression shattered instantly. Her jaw dropped, and her entire face flushed crimson. Alira immediately nudged my ribs hard with her elbow, whispering fiercely, "Stop laughing, you idiot, you're only going to make her depression worse!" before she hurriedly knelt down to comfort the trembling little queen.
"That is absolutely enough!" Valkira roared, her voice ringing out through the courtyard with terrifying, apocalyptic fury.
CRASH!
With a single, armored kick, she struck the door with such astronomical force that it tore completely off its hinges, flying across the room and shattering against the back wall.
"Hey! hiccup You bratty kids have absolutely no manners?!" the old man shouted, stumbling backward in a panic.
Before he could utter another syllable, Valkira whipped her massive greatsword through the air. The heavy blade whizzed mere millimeters past his bald head, embedding itself halfway into the wooden wall behind him with a resonant thwack. The two women who had been lounging with him let out blood-curdling screams and scrambled out of the back window.
"Wha—hiccup—Wait! Please, mercy! Spare my life!" the old demon stammered, his entire body trembling like a leaf. "I'll give you whatever riches you want, just please do not execute me!"
"How dare you insolently insult our supreme queen like that!" Valkira bellowed, lunging forward to grab the old man tightly by his collar, lifting his feet completely off the ground. "Do you not possess the eyes to see her incredible charm?! Her divine beauty?! Her unmatched bravery?! So what if she is completely flat-chested—she is still our sovereign queen! And yes, she might look like a fragile ten-year-old, and yes, she might have the temper of a—"
"Valkira," I cut in, gently tapping her heavy iron shoulder plate. "You're really, really not helping her case right now."
I pointed a finger toward the dark corner of the room. Verixa was currently kneeling in a fetal position, a literal dark cloud of anime depression swirling visibly around her head. Alira was awkwardly patting her back, desperately whispering empty words of comfort.
The old chief gulped, his eyes darting nervously between Valkira's furious gaze and the giant sword still vibrating in his wall. "Alright! Alright! I'll talk! I'll cooperate! Just please put me back down on the floor!"
Valkira let go with a huff, and the old man stumbled backward, wiping a thick layer of nervous sweat from his brow. He let out a deep, heavy sigh, and as he did, the drunken slur entirely vanished from his voice, his posture slumping into something much older and heavier.
Seeing the sudden shift, I stepped forward, my tone softening. "Old man… I know this might be difficult to recount, but can you please tell us what exactly happened to this village?"
"This village… it wasn't always a junkyard," the chief said quietly, his voice hollow as he stared at the floor. "After the previous Demon Queen was ruthlessly defeated in the capital, we had no one left to protect us. The human vanguard arrived shortly after… demanding our unconditional surrender. Those who resisted were slaughtered on the spot. And those of us who survived…"
He hesitated, his fingers tightening around his bottle, though he didn't raise it to drink. "We became their servants. Cheap entertainment for their soldiers. Tools. Slaves."
His hands began to shake violently. "The proud demon warriors of Kraven lost absolutely everything—our strength, our ancestral pride, even our basic will to live. That is why this place looks like a landfill to you outsiders. We are nothing but the broken, hollow remnants of a conquered race."
The entire room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Even Verixa, still kneeling in her corner of depression, slowly raised her head, her crimson eyes softening with deep empathy as she listened to the old man's plight.
"…So that's why," I murmured, looking out the broken doorway at the lifeless, empty expressions of the citizens outside. "That's why everyone here looks so dead inside."
The old chief nodded weakly. "There is no queen left to lead us out of the dark. There is no light left for us to follow."
Slowly, deliberately, Verixa stood up. She brushed the dirt and dust off her regal clothes, her childish demeanor completely vanishing, replaced by a profound, solemn seriousness.
"Then maybe," she said softly, her voice cutting through the heavy air like a beacon, "it is finally time that we gave them one again."
The young queen took a deep, steadying breath, straightening her posture until she stood as tall as her small frame would allow. Her eyes scanned the room, locking onto the weary old chief with unwavering resolve.
"I am Verixa," she began, her voice carrying a commanding, royal resonance that defied her age. "Daughter of the late Demon Queen… and the rightful heir to the obsidian throne. I have come to—"
Before she could even finish her declaration, the old man burst into a loud, wheezy, mocking laugh that echoed entirely through the open courtyard.
"Hahaha! The daughter of the supreme queen, you say?! Oh, this is a spectacular comedy!" he wheezed, wiping genuine tears of laughter from his eyes. "Do you truly take me for some senile old fool? You expect me to believe a pint-sized little girl wandering the woods is royal empire blood?"
Verixa's face flushed a deep crimson, her hands clenching into tight, trembling fists. "I am not joking with you!" she snapped. "I may be young, but the blood of the Demon Queen flows purely through my veins! I have come to lead your people out of the dirt, to completely restore Kraven to its former glory!"
The old chief just shook his head, a cynical chuckle escaping him. "Glory, you say? Hah! Kid, your head barely reaches my shoulders. And look at that tiny face—so fierce, yet so incredibly pint-sized. I'd call you cute if your claim weren't so insulting to my intelligence!"
Alira leaned over, whispering under her breath to me, "Zacken… this political campaign is going remarkably poorly."
I bit my lip, desperately trying to suppress a grin. Verixa's proud stance didn't waver, but her cheeks were burning with absolute embarrassment.
"Enough of your insolent mockery, old man!" Valkira roared, stepping right beside her queen with a glare sharp enough to cleave iron. "Show some proper respect! She is the sole future of our entire race!"
The old chief raised his hands defensively, his mocking laughter finally fading into a tired, sheepish grin. "Alright, alright, alright… maybe I let my cynicism get the better of me. But if you truly are the royalty you claim to be, then words mean absolutely nothing out here in the slums. Actions speak louder than titles, little queen. Show us what you've got."
Verixa's eyes narrowed with fierce determination. A sharp, knowing smile suddenly crossed her face as she turned her head slowly to look directly at me.
"Then I will gladly show you—show every single one of you—that the blood of the Demon Queen still flows strong in this world," she declared proudly. She extended a hand, pointing a finger dramatically in my direction. "Plus, I happen to have a personal, top-tier mastermind who knows exactly how to handle impossible problems!"
My smile instantly vanished. My jaw dropped.
Wait... what?! I thought, my heart dropping into my stomach as the old chief, Valkira, and Alira all slowly turned their expectant eyes toward me. Why am I suddenly the mastermind of a refugee crisis?!