Maria Engracia closed her eyes as the soldier raised his blade high above his head, the polished steel glinting beneath the light.
This was it—the end of her life, the end of a journey burdened by the shame of being unable to fulfill the promise she had made to her father.
"So long, Princess!"
Despite calling her Princess, the soldier did not mean it with any respect. He was mocking her, for she was no longer a princess.
She braced herself for the fatal strike. This was her fate; there was no way out for her. No salvation was going to come, and so there was no point in resisting.
But the strike never came.
What happened? Why did he stop?
She asked herself, her eyes still shut. Everyone surrounding her wanted her dead, unless...
She prayed she was wrong, but it would not be beyond them to change their minds and violate her honor before killing her.
Then a scream rang out, sharp with agony.
But it did not come from her.
It was the anguished cry of the very soldier who, only moments ago, had been on the verge of ending her life.
Maria's eyes flew open.
The soldier was writhing on the ground.
One of his arms had been severed and now lay nearby, still clutching the sword in its lifeless grip. He flailed like a fish thrown onto dry land, twisting and thrashing in desperate agony as blood poured from the stump. His screams echoed through the air, growing hoarse and ragged with pain.
For a moment, Maria could only stare in stunned disbelief.
Then her eyes noticed a figure standing some distance away, slowly walking toward them.
The soldiers tightened their grips on their weapons, their faces tense and wary.
The figure was a demon.
A handsome demon.
He was dressed in layered robes of blue and white, with black stripes running down the sleeves. His hair was snow-white, and his crimson eyes held the gaze of a predator stalking its prey. Upon his face rested a vicious, cruel smile that sent a chill through the air around him.
In his right hand, he wielded a staff that resembled a spear more than a mage's staff.
Her situation had just gotten worse—far worse.
She knew that death was now inevitable. After all, demons rarely left witnesses alive once their faces had been seen, save for a few obvious exceptions.
Yet, despite the dread gripping her heart, a small flicker of satisfaction remained.
At least she would not die alone.
The soldiers surrounding her were going to die as well.
"Yaaaaahhhh!!!"
All of the soldiers charged at the demon at the same time.
Demons were dangerous—extremely dangerous.
They were a race blessed with overwhelming power, far beyond that of ordinary humans. To charge a demon alone was nothing short of suicide. No sane human would willingly face one by themselves.
And so, following the only logical course of action available to them, the soldiers attacked together.
Their boots thundered against the earth as they surged forward, weapons raised high and battle cries filling the air. Fear was etched onto their faces, but none of them hesitated. They knew that standing still would only guarantee death.
They hoped that if even one of them managed to land a blow, the others might have a chance to escape.
After all, demons were notoriously vain creatures. They possessed an almost obsessive concern for their appearance and an equally powerful instinct for self-preservation. Even the smallest scratch upon their bodies could provoke outrage or force a retreat.
That was usually the case.
But, of course, such hopes meant little if the demon had no intention of leaving in the first place.
And Maria desperately hoped that he would kill them all.
"Mere monkeys can't defeat an elephant," the demon mocked.
He effortlessly dodged one swing, then another, and another after that. Blade after blade cut through the air, yet none of them came close to touching him. He weaved between the attacks with almost insulting ease, as though he were dancing rather than fighting.
Occasionally, he would raise his free hand and stop a sword with nothing more than two fingers. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he would send the soldier sprawling across the ground rather than killing him.
He was playing with them.
Like a child amusing himself with a collection of toys before eventually growing bored and breaking them apart.
A cruel smile remained plastered across his face as he watched the soldiers struggle, their desperate attacks serving as nothing more than entertainment.
To him, it was a game.
"It's time."
The demon swung his staff.
Two heads flew through the air.
Their bodies remained standing for the briefest moment before collapsing to the ground. Blood poured from their severed necks, staining the earth crimson.
The remaining soldiers froze in utter horror.
Then the demon calmly uttered a spell.
"Overdrive."
The earth trembled.
A deep rumble echoed beneath the battlefield as thick vines burst from the ground beneath the charging soldiers. They looked unnatural—massive, rugged growths formed from stone and soil rather than flesh and bark. In an instant, they coiled around the soldiers, locking them firmly in place.
Panic spread across their faces.
Then two more vines erupted from the earth.
Sharp as spears, they shot forward and pierced straight through the soldiers' throats.
Blood sprayed into the air.
The soldiers' eyes widened in shock before the life faded from them, their bodies going limp as the stone vines held them aloft.
Silence followed.
Then the demon's crimson eyes met Maria's sapphire ones.
A chill ran down her spine.
He began walking toward her.
As he did, he casually waved two fingers.
The soldier who had been writhing on the ground earlier, now barely conscious from blood loss, was suddenly hurled through the air. His head slammed against a nearby tree with a sickening crack exploding.
Blood, bone, and fragments of flesh splattered across the tree trunk.
"Only you are left."
The demon took another step.
Then, in an instant, he was standing directly in front of her.
Maria's breath caught in her throat.
He lowered himself until his lips were near her ear.
"I love women," he whispered. "Especially human women. They are always such a delicacy to eat."
His voice was melodious, almost hypnotic, like warm honey being poured into her ears. Every word flowed with unnatural charm, masking the monstrous meaning behind them.
Was this what they called the seduction of a demon?
It was well known that demons possessed the ability to seduce members of other races with mere words, regardless of gender. Even the most vulgar, profane, or horrifying things spoken by them could sound sweet and alluring.
A demon's words were living deceptions, creeping into the mind and clouding reason. They dulled fear, suppressed caution, and slowly convinced their victims to surrender their bodies, wills, and even their souls.
Unless, of course, the demon was not interested in seduction.
Some demons preferred something else.
They preferred killing.
They preferred suffering.
They preferred watching the terror in their victims' eyes before devouring them.
"But don't worry," the demon continued. "I am not going to do it."
Maria could hardly believe her ears.
The demon was not going to kill and eat her?
That was definitely a lie.
Demons lied as naturally as humans breathed. Their promises carried little value, and their words were as hollow as a well without water.
Deep.
Dark.
And utterly empty.
"Well, I was going to," the demon said with a faint chuckle, "but I heard you are a Princess. Are you not?"
The demon placed a hand beneath her chin and gently lifted her head.
Maria stiffened.
Those crimson eyes stared directly into hers, their predatory gaze seeming to peer straight through her soul.
"I-I am..."
The answer escaped her lips before she could stop herself.
The demon's smile widened.
"I, Zelda, have a proposal for you."
His voice remained smooth and pleasant, carrying the same unnatural charm that made every word sound far gentler than it should have.
"Accept, and you shall live."
His fingers lightly traced along her jawline.
"Reject..."
The smile on his face sharpened into something colder, something far more sinister.
"And you shall become my food, just like the rest."
For a brief moment, Maria's eyes drifted toward the corpses scattered across the battlefield.
The severed heads.
The blood-soaked earth.
The lifeless bodies impaled upon stone vines.
The demon's offer was not a negotiation.
It was merely a prettier way of delivering a threat.