Kidnapped Princess C4

Chapter 4

The startled nobles whispered among themselves.
It was the appearance of the Demon King himself—the one who bore the title of King, ruler of all demons.

“Y-you mean… the sovereign of the Demon Realm…!”

The sound of someone swallowing dryly echoed through the hall.

“D-don’t lie! Why would the Demon King come here alone?”

Some nobles refused to believe what they saw before them, clinging to denial. Words, after all, are cheap. When they spoke in skeptical tones, I simply nodded calmly.

“Then I shall prove it.”

My quiet voice rolled through the room. I raised a hand and twirled my finger through the air, gathering magia at my fingertips. There was no magia in the human realm, so I had to use the power within me—but that was a trivial matter.

Thick, violet smoke—no illusion, but true, solid power—coiled around my hand, pulsing with energy. The heavy pressure of it filled the room. The nobles stumbled, unable to straighten their backs, their faces turning pale, then ghastly blue.

The swirling magia stirred the air, scattering the war documents that had been laid neatly upon the table.

“S-stop!”

Perhaps suffocating under the weight of it, the king cried out. I clenched my fist, dispersing the magia at once, and then smiled, lips curling upward.

“Now, do you believe that I am the Demon King? If not, I can engrave the truth directly onto your bodies.”

My eyes flashed as I spoke, and all of them nodded frantically, terror written across their faces. Fear was still acknowledgment, after all.

“I suppose I should explain why I’ve come. I’ve been living rather quietly, but when intruders stepped onto my doorstep, I thought I’d come and see the faces of those responsible.”

The nobles flinched at that. The intruders stood exposed before their victim.

“I hear it was because of some prophecy—that my descendant would rule the world—that you saw fit to sully my land with your muddy feet. Truly, I was at a loss for words.”

I shook my head slowly. But for the humans, between a divine prophecy and the word of the Demon King, there was only one they would ever trust.

“Lies! God knows all! Did you think He would be blind to your desire to rule the world?”

The image of that smug god crossed my mind. I wanted to curse Him to His face for making my life miserable with such a foolish prophecy.

“That’s what I’d like to ask you. You’re the ones who panicked, who lashed out in fear that I would take your precious world. I didn’t even know a prophecy existed.”

Elvin had told me, of course—but that was beside the point.

“Since I never saw it, I had no way of knowing. And even then, perhaps it’s you who misinterpreted it. It said my child would rule the world, did it not? Everything else is nothing more than your baseless conjecture.”

“You dare claim we twisted the words of God?! The prophecy was real!”

“That, I know. I’ve seen it myself.”

Through the crystal orb, I had read the prophecy inscribed upon the golden slab. It was indeed genuine. Someone who could read the divine tongue had confirmed that the humans’ translation was accurate.

That damned god had truly spoken those words.

The room erupted in murmurs again, not questioning my interpretation, but wondering instead—how I had seen the prophecy in the first place.

“The prophecy is safeguarded within the church… How could you have seen it?”

Ah, were they wary of me now? Too late for that. Did they really think I could infiltrate their royal palace but not their church? It would be trickier, yes, but far from impossible.

“Easily,” I said simply.

The air grew heavy once more. I watched their trembling eyes and continued,

“Shall I confirm whether the prophecy I saw matches yours?”

They stared at me, frozen, their mouths sealed shut. I shrugged.

“I have no intention of going to war. A prophecy is merely a prophecy. So withdraw your troops.”

“You speak of peace, yet three hundred years ago you invaded our realm!”

“That was the former Demon King—not me. And wasn’t that catastrophe of your own making? Tell me, who would forgive the murderers of their child? It was your kind who provoked the dragon’s wrath. He became corrupted, a Demon King, because of you.”

My tone was firm, unyielding—each word hammered into their skulls like the truth it was.

And to think, I had been summoned to clean up their mess.

I lifted my head and looked down at them, letting a sharp, mocking laugh escape. The weight of my killing intent filled the room, and sweat began to drip from their faces.

“Ha. You really don’t know, do you?”

I had expected at least a flicker of guilt—but no, the humans only stared back with blank, incredulous expressions, as if I were speaking nonsense.

Had they already forgotten what happened three hundred years ago? Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still recall every moment of that wretched ordeal.

A noble jabbed a finger at me, shouting self-righteously, as if his words alone could reshape truth.

“Lies! Do you think we don’t see through you? You covet our fertile lands! But we will not allow it! We will destroy every last one of you demons, and ensure no child is ever born under that cursed prophecy!”

For a moment, I was speechless. Then I smiled—sweetly, even—but the vein throbbing on my forehead betrayed me.

“…You refuse to believe me, I see. Very well. If it would ease your doubts, I can make a contract.”

I extended my hand in good faith. A demon’s contract is one of souls—a sacred, binding vow of non-aggression. To break it is to invite annihilation.

Surely that was enough to prove my sincerity. Surely, I thought, their stance might soften. I gestured encouragingly for them to take my hand.

But I had made a mistake. Their suspicion only deepened, their hostility grew sharper.

If I had overlooked anything, it was the sheer magnitude of human greed—and their inability to trust anyone but themselves.

The king, the nobles, and the knights exchanged tense glances.

“They say one will arise to rule the world. Who can guarantee the Demon King will honor his word?”

I sighed softly. I had hoped to dispel their delusions, but before I could open my mouth again, the doors burst open with a loud crash. All heads turned.

“Father!”

“Oh—our Hero!”

A group of knights poured into the chamber, escorting a small boy. The king’s face lit up as he called the child Hero.

“What? Hero?”

I looked down at the little boy toddling forward, no older than eight, holding what looked like a toy sword. But that sword—it was painfully familiar.

Shorter now, duller, almost comically small, yet unmistakable. It was the very holy sword I once wielded to seal Halstel.

The sacred energy it radiated made my skin prickle with discomfort. After sealing Halstel, I’d tossed it aside without a second glance—so the humans must have picked it up.

For a demon, wielding a holy sword was perilous. True, I’d used it to wound Halstel fatally, but it could just as easily have destroyed me.

I remembered cutting my finger on it once while cleaning the blade—the wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. That sword was holy indeed.

I had left it impaled near Halstel’s body, thinking God would retrieve it himself. And yet… it now rested in human hands.

Does it change shape based on its wielder? I mused. To the untrained eye, it looked like nothing more than a child’s toy.

While I pondered this, the situation escalated quickly.

“The Hero has come! Now we’re saved! Strike down the evil one!”

The king’s face shone with reverence as he gazed upon the boy, who then raised his tiny sword toward me.

I frowned.

Wait… the Hero and the Demon King?

Please, don’t tell me this is turning into that cliché.

“Of course, Father! Face me, wicked fiend!”

“…”

And with that, the “Hero” swung his sword. His stance was clumsy, unbalanced—he could barely lift the blade, let alone wield it properly. The weapon wobbled in his hands, and he stumbled forward under its weight.

To believe that such a flimsy swing could harm me was laughable. Elvin would have burst out laughing on the spot.

But what was truly pathetic wasn’t the struggling child—it was the adults behind him. They cheered and clapped, shouting, “Well done, Hero!” as if this were a playground game.

What a disgrace. I vowed never to become such a fool.

“Hey, that’s dangerous.”

What kind of idiot lets a child swing a sword around like that? What if he hurt someone innocent?

I caught him by the scruff of the neck with one hand, lifting him off the ground. The boy kicked and thrashed, glaring at me.

“L-let go, you vile creature!”

He flailed wildly, the sword slipping from his weak grip—and as it spun, the blade nicked my cheek.

“Ah…”

Normally, any wound would heal instantly, but as expected of a holy sword—the cut didn’t close, and the blood kept trickling. It stung, faintly.

Elvin’s going to be furious, I thought absently.

The sight of me holding the “Hero” finally jolted the onlookers into action.

“H-he’s got the Hero! Save him! The Demon is trying to kill him!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

At the king’s command, the knights charged as one to rescue the child—the prince, apparently.

Are humans as stupid as demons now?

They’d stood by earlier, letting the boy fight alone, but now that he was caught, they attacked in droves. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Normally, they’d swarm the enemy first to protect the child. That’s what they were good at, wasn’t it?

If it were me, I’d never let that self-righteous king walk away unscathed.

Well, not that I wanted war—if they’d just agree to a peace treaty, I’d gladly let them go.

“Die!”

The knights shouted the kind of lines fit for nameless extras as they swung their swords at me.

My patience was wearing thin. I had given them chances, made no hostile moves, even offered a contract—and yet they branded me a villain and tried to kill me.

The “Hero” was just a child, but if he had truly mastered that sword, things might have turned out far more dangerous.