Kidnapped Princess C17

Chapter 17

Dylan’s eyebrow twitched sharply, his expression tightening with irritation. He had never liked when I acted too casual before him. Whenever he got displeased, his face would harden like granite—some things really never changed.

“I can’t begin to guess what’s going on in your head. Have you completely lost your mind, Doh Suhyeon?”

From his point of view, it wasn’t an unreasonable question.

“I’m perfectly sane,” I replied with a shrug.

Before Dylan could retort, Elvin flared up beside me, his voice full of outrage.

“Dylan! It’s true we once fought side by side with His Majesty, but how dare you address him by name? And to call him insane! Mind your tongue!”

…I never “fought side by side” with them the way he made it sound. What he probably meant was those nights we camped out together while fending off rampaging demons.

Dylan, of course, didn’t even flinch.

“You’re still coddling him, Elvin. No wonder he acts so recklessly.”

“The Demon King’s will is the will of all demons! Are you defying our lord?”

“I never agreed to this madness. How could you let a mere human stand beside the Demon King as his consort?”

The two of them clashed with enough force to shake the room—hardly unusual for them.

I sighed and stepped in. “All right, calm down. I was furious when I heard the humans declared war, so yes, I said I’d take the princess as my bride out of spite. But in the end, I’ll let her decide for herself. Unless…” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re still sore that I turned down your proposal?”

Dylan’s glare sharpened instantly. So he was remembering that incident.

And what could I say? I had no intention of having a child with him—it had been too sudden, too absurd. He’d have chased me across realms if I’d agreed.

“Do I look that petty to you?”

“…Of course not.”

But he still wasn’t smiling.

“Listen,” I began, “the humans won’t take back their declaration of war. So I figured I might as well follow the prophecy—‘the child of the Demon King will rule the world.’ Only problem? I don’t have a wife. So I thought, why not make the princess my bride? But when I found her, she was living alone in a collapsing palace. I couldn’t just leave her there… And she’s adorable, honestly. You’d like her.”

“You’re as glib as ever,” Dylan said coldly. “Unlike your lackey here, I’m not so easily swayed. The Demon King choosing a human as his consort—do you have any idea what comes after that?”

He was right, of course. The backlash from the nobles and the Elder Council would be enormous.

“Well, one of the Elders most respected by the nobility is standing right in front of me,” I said with a grin.

His gaze grew even sharper.

“Oh, come on. Do me a favor.”

Dylan, now head of his noble house and a leading voice in the Elder Council, held considerable influence. If he sided with me, persuading the rest would be much easier.

“You think the Council listens to me simply because I open my mouth?” he asked dryly.

“Of course not. The Council’s always been the real problem, hasn’t it?”

He didn’t argue. We both knew it was true. The Council was made up of the oldest, most conservative demons—those who resisted any change, no matter how logical. Even if I forced an issue through by decree, they’d find a way to stall it.

The Demon Realm wasn’t so different from the human one. Even kings had to deal with stubborn subordinates—ours just happened to be called Elders instead of ministers.

“Don’t worry,” I said confidently. “I’ve got a plan. Even those old fossils won’t be able to resist.”

“Oh? And what brilliant idea is that?”

“I understand the Council’s concern. A human consort—yes, it’s shocking. But Luminas isn’t just any human. You’ll see once you meet her—she’s extraordinary.”

“In what way?” he asked skeptically.

“Her divine power. It’s immense. I think she even has talent for magic.”

“That makes it worse,” Dylan snapped. “They’ll brand her a danger to the realm and demand she be eliminated.”

“Not if we reframe it,” I said smoothly. “Think of it as an investment for the future. You and I both know the real reason demons avoid humans.”

“Because of those damn priests.”

Exactly. Demons were vulnerable to divine energy. While ordinary humans were no threat, priests were another matter—and gods, in their whimsical “love for all life,” freely bestowed their blessings upon them.

And among those blessed, one stood out: Apellius, the hero.

It was because of him that the demons first retreated into the Black Lands. His light had the power to annihilate us entirely.

“We need countermeasures,” I continued. “Sure, we can handle normal priests, but now a hero has appeared again. He doesn’t seem as strong as Apellius, but we can’t be careless.”

“Exactly why you shouldn’t bring divine power into your castle,” Dylan said sharply. “You’re keeping an enemy weapon at your side.”

“Not necessarily. The humans craft relics that detect or repel demonic energy using divine blessings. Why can’t we do the reverse?”

He raised an eyebrow, silent. I pressed on.

“Using Luminas’s divine power, we could create artifacts that block or neutralize holy energy. It would make conquering the human realm much easier. Besides, returning her to the humans would be far more dangerous. Lilith said it herself—her power is on par with Apellius.”

That caught his attention. Even Dylan, composed as ever, fell silent at the name.

“Another like Apellius…” he muttered.

“Exactly. We’re already at war. If we send Luminas back, she’ll become their greatest weapon. But here, under my protection? She’s no threat. She adores me!”

I couldn’t resist puffing my chest a little. Dylan grimaced, but the fact that he didn’t immediately object meant I’d struck a chord.

“Tempting, isn’t it?” I said with a smirk. “Think about it—‘the child of the Demon King shall rule the world.’ That’s the prophecy. If she bears my heir, one blessed by both divine and demonic power, imagine the potential. Even the gods would envy us.”

“You,” Dylan said flatly, “never cared about territorial conquest before.”

“That’s true,” I admitted. “But they came to us. And really, can we live like this forever?”

“There’s nothing wrong with our world,” he countered.

“Nothing wrong?” I scoffed. “First, we have practically no nature left!”

The Demon Realm was vast, yes—but barren. There was a reason it was called the Black Lands.

“The ground bubbles with toxic gas. The air itself poisons. Every living thing here—animal, plant, even insects—mutated into monsters just to survive! Children can’t even go outside!”

That was why I’d once prayed to the gods—to at least let life exist here. But the land only grew darker and more hostile with every passing century.

It had gotten worse ever since I sealed Halstel underground. The dragon’s decaying corpse poisoned the soil, spreading its rage like a curse.

And food… food was always an issue. Demons didn’t eat as regularly as humans, but we still needed sustenance.

For a hundred years during my travels, I’d lived off monster meat—tough, bitter, sometimes venomous.

And vegetables? Forget it. Plants that survived here were either toxic, carnivorous, or both. I’d nearly been eaten alive more than once.

Only after I became Demon King and started adopting human agricultural methods did things improve at all.

Human civilization had its merits.

Even now, the meat and vegetables on my table came from secret imports from the human realm. More and more demons were developing a taste for “foreign delicacies.” If that continued, sunlight and fertile land would become essential.

“We need human territory,” I said firmly. “You might hate the sun, but some of us actually like it.”

Dylan gave a long, exasperated sigh. “You’re acting like you rescued a lost cub. This isn’t the same.”

He wasn’t wrong—I’d never been one for expansionism before.

“I know,” I said. “But when someone needs help, I help them. You know me.”

“…You’ve always been like this,” he muttered.

Indeed, it wasn’t just Luminas. I’d taken in elves, beastfolk, and other refugees over the centuries—any who’d fled human persecution.

At first, demons resisted. Old grudges ran deep. But over time, coexistence had taken root. Shared hatred of humanity made unity easier.

“…Fine,” Dylan said at last. “I’ll handle the Elders.”

“Knew I could count on you.” I grinned.

He sighed again, already regretting it.

“One more thing.”

“There’s more?”