The dense foliage of the outer rim finally parted, revealing the true, staggering scale of the Arvania Kingdom's defenses. We had finally reached the grand gates of the capital.
I walked a disciplined few steps behind Rosella, my hands bound loosely by the coarse rope she held firmly in her grasp. As we drew closer to the heavy security perimeter, her brisk, aristocratic pace slowed down—almost entirely intentionally. She drifted backward just enough to walk directly alongside me, her shoulders squaring as she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead.
Leaning her head in slightly, her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper that was instantly swallowed by the wind. "A-Are you absolutely certain you still wish to go through with this? You can still turn back into the treeline."
I let out a small, awkward, self-deprecating laugh. "I don't really possess much of a choice in the grand scheme of things, Lady Priestess... I believe I told you that already."
For a brief moment, Rosella paused. She turned her head and looked at me—really looked past the gray-skinned, low-tier demon disguise to see the fragile Earthling underneath—before offering a faint, melancholic nod.
"I respect your conviction, then," she murmured softly. "In all my years serving the Church, I have never encountered a demon quite like you."
We continued our march forward, the distance closing until the primary gates of the capital loomed over us like an immovable mountain. They were towering, seamless slabs of iron-reinforced white stone, flanked by automated defensive ballistas.
Two heavily armored imperial sentries straightened up instantly, bringing their fists across their breastplates in a flawless military salute. "Good morning, Lady Rosella! The Church sends its greetings. Thank you for your flawless cooperation with the seasonal tax extraction."
The second sentry's analytical gaze slowly shifted past her shoulder, his eyes narrowing to sharp slits as they landed on my ragged attire. "Regiment apologies, ma'am, but what about the rest of your vanguard detail? The elite soldiers who were assigned to accompany you?"
Rosella exhaled a soft, thoroughly exhausted sigh, gesturing vaguely to the stained makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around her forehead. "Can you not see the state of my person? Our formation was brutally ambushed by a high-density horde of ground goblins in the cavern passes. I am injured, and the squad was lost. I will file a comprehensive magical report with the High Council later." She paused briefly, smoothly changing the subject. "Where is Captain Charles?"
"You mean the White Knight Captain, ma'am?" the sentry corrected quickly, his posture tightening at the mention of the name. "He is currently stationed at the royal training grounds. He is conducting high-tier combat synchronization maneuvers alongside Her Highness, Princess Celestia."
Charles…
My internal database flagged the name instantly. If an imperial captain was personally trusted to exchange blows and train alongside the kingdom's summoned princess, then he was a monstrously powerful variable. He was absolutely not someone to take lightly.
The sentry looked back down at me, his hand resting on the pommel of his broadsword. "And the creature standing behind you… is he the designated seasonal tribute from the slums?"
Rosella didn't hesitate for a single syllable. "Yes. Take custody of him and march him directly to the subterranean penitentiary."
The sentries nodded stiffly, shouting across the courtyard to summon two specialized prison guards. Before I could even attempt to psychologically brace myself, a pair of rough, steel-gloved hands violently gripped the back of my neck, shoving my head downward.
A sharp spike of pain shot through my spine as they began to drag my body across the cobblestones like I was nothing more than an expendable piece of livestock cargo.
"Hey—!" Rosella's voice snapped through the air like a cracking whip, sharp, venomous, and laced with absolute authority. "Unhand his neck this instant! Do you low-ranking grunts have even the slightest mathematical concept of how fragile and incredibly vital a live demon tribute is to the capital's magical research department?!"
The prison guards froze entirely in their tracks, their faces draining of color beneath their iron visors. "S-Sincere apologies, Lady Priestess!"
"Just secure him inside the transport and take him to the prison," she commanded coldly, her lavender eyes boring holes into the guards' helmets. "…And ensure you handle him with extreme care."
This time, the guards complied without a word of protest. They roughly shoved me into a cramped, reinforced metal cage mounted onto the back of a heavy wooden cart. The thick iron bars clanged shut around me with a deafening, definitive CLANG, the heavy padlock clicking into place as the wooden wheels began to creak sluggishly forward.
And just like that… I was officially caged.
As the transport cart rattled smoothly through the high-security gates and entered the heart of the capital, Lumeris, I pulled myself up against the iron bars and looked out at the world.
It was… breathtakingly beautiful.
Pristine, immaculately swept white stone streets stretched out endlessly into the distance, entirely untouched by mud, filth, or the signs of poverty. Elegant, golden alchemical lanterns hung from the eaves of beautifully structured buildings, casting a soft, warm, ethereal glow across the walkways even in the bright light of day. Wealthy merchants called out to customers with cheerful, booming voices, children dressed in fine silks laughed freely as they chased one another through the plazas, and citizens walked the avenues with absolute, carefree peace.
There was no desperation here.
There were no broken, hollow eyes staring from the gutters.
There was absolutely no ambient stench of rot, decay, or existential despair like there was in Kraven.
There was life. So much vibrant, beautiful, protected life.
My grip tightened slowly around the freezing iron bars of my cage, my knuckles turning white. A strange, bitter knot formed deep within my throat.
If I had been the one summoned to this world… if I had been brought to this realm as the legendary prophesied Hero…
Things would have been entirely, fundamentally different.
I would have been welcomed through these grand gates with open arms. I would have been praised, showered in riches, and universally respected by the citizenry. I wouldn't be forced to wear a gray-skinned monster disguise. I wouldn't be dragged through the dirt like a stray animal, locked inside a cage meant for beasts.
Would I even be the same person I am right now… if that had happened to me?
A profoundly bitter, cynical smile formed on my lips. "That damn brat of a princess…" I muttered quietly into the wind, staring at the distant spires of the royal palace. "I'm just a normal guy trying to survive the week..."
And yet—as I looked down at my gray, stained hands—a sudden realization hit me.
Strangely enough…
I didn't hate the demons. I didn't hate the goblins, either. They weren't mindless, bloodthirsty monsters. Not really. They were just desperate people who had been systematically pushed to the brutal edges of the map by the people living in this beautiful paradise.
"…Maybe I'm the one who's completely broken and strange," I whispered to myself, letting out a dry huff.
Up ahead at the front of the cart, the two transport guards murmured to one another in low, confused tones.
"This demon tribute... he's incredibly weird, isn't he?"
"Yeah... way too calm. Usually, the imps are screaming, cursing, or trying to chew through the iron bars by now."
Eventually, after a long, winding trek through the upper districts, the cart came to a heavy, abrupt halt. Massive, ancient iron-reinforced doors creaked open with a deep, echoing groan, revealing a pitch-black, yawning stone staircase descending straight into the bowels of the earth.
The subterranean prison.
A wave of profoundly cold, stagnant air rushed out of the stairwell like a physical warning, carrying the immediate, unmistakable scents of the underground. Dampness. Heavy mold. Rust.
And something faintly sweet, metallic, and primal. Fresh blood.
The guards dragged my cage down into the dark, step by step, the heavy wooden wheels rattling loudly against the uneven stone steps. The deeper we descended, the more the ambient temperature plummeted, the air turning thick, heavy, and utterly oppressive.
Without an ounce of ceremony, the guards unlocked my cage, aggressively hoisted me by the shoulders, and threw my body across the threshold of a dark, isolated cell. The heavy iron door slammed shut behind me with a thunderous boom that vibrated through the stone, the sound echoing down the empty corridors before dying out into a suffocating silence.
I slowly sat up, resting my back against the freezing, moisture-slicked stone wall, and let out a long, exhausted breath.
"…Well, look at that. Second time waking up inside a prison cell this month," I muttered to the darkness, a dry, amused chuckle escaping my lips. "Honestly? The demon kingdom's dungeon was significantly more comfortable than this trash heap..."
The rhythmic sound of water dripping from a cracked ceiling echoed somewhere far down the block. Somewhere in the distance, heavy iron chains clinked faintly against stone. The very atmosphere of the room felt heavy, pressing down on my lungs.
I tilted my head back against the stone, my brain instantly shifting into analysis mode. What is the optimal move now? Attempt an immediate escape? Sit tight and observe the guard guard rotations? Collect environmental data?
I began to softly mutter to myself, meticulously piecing together the structural possibilities of the prison layout.
Then—
"Can you just shut your mouth for five seconds?"
A sharp, incredibly cold feminine voice cut through the ink-black darkness from the adjacent cell, slicing through my internal monologue. "I am actively attempting to sleep over here."
I froze entirely in place. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smirk spread across my face. An NPC interaction.
I shifted my body weight, sliding closer to the heavy iron bars separating our dark quarters. "My bad," I said into the dark. "I didn't mean to disrupt your rest."
"Then don't."
"Alright, alright, fair enough," I said, raising my hands slightly in a peaceful gesture. "Just grant me a single question, and I promise I won't utter another syllable for the rest of the night."
A heavy, prolonged pause filled the air. Then, an intensely annoyed, exhausted sigh echoed from the shadows. "…Fine. A single question. Ask it and shut up."
I took a deep, grounding breath, focusing my mind entirely on the mission objective the Goblin King had entrusted to me.
"…Have you ever happened to hear of a name... Diana?"
The silence that followed was absolute.
For a long, agonizing moment, I genuinely believed she was simply going to ignore my query and go back to sleep.
But then—
"…Where exactly did you encounter that name, captive?"
Her voice had undergone a complete, terrifying transformation. The previous annoyance was entirely gone, replaced by a tone that was dead, sharp, and dripping with an incredibly cold, dangerous edge.
Bingo. She knew the name.
I leaned my shoulder slightly closer against the freezing iron dividers. "Let's just say… that specific name happens to be one of the primary strategic reasons I allowed myself to be dragged into this dungeon in the first place."
A faint, heavy metallic sound echoed from the deep shadows of the neighboring cell. The sound of massive, high-tier anti-magic chains slowly shifting across the stone floor.
And then—from the absolute depths of the ink-black void—a pair of brilliant, glowing crimson eyes suddenly manifested, burning through the dark as they locked dead onto my position. They watched me with an unblinking, predatory intensity.
Instantly, a strange, suffocating wave of pure physical pressure filled the small cell, pressing down on my chest so violently it felt like a heavy weight was crushing my lungs. My base human survival instincts began to scream at the top of their lungs.
Danger. Absolute, catastrophic danger. This girl... was a monster. She wasn't an ordinary prisoner.
"…Answer me clearly, demon," she commanded quietly, the glowing crimson eyes narrowing. "Where did you hear that name?"
I exhaled slowly, forcing my heart rate down through sheer, stubborn willpower as I maintained my calm, unbothered persona. "Like I just said… it's directly connected to the exact reason why I am currently sitting in this cell."
A long, tense beat passed.
And then—the suffocating physical pressure abruptly vanished, the heavy air clearing instantly.
"…I see," she murmured, the glowing crimson eyes shifting slightly in the dark. "Then it appears you are a remarkably more important asset than your pathetic appearance suggests."
A faint, confident smirk crossed my face as I leaned my head back against the bars. "Heh. Funny you say that," I whispered into the quiet dungeon. "That happens to be the exact second time someone has told me that today."