Ren’s chest heaved as he—she?—tried to steady herself.
The cool air of the chamber brushed against her skin, sending an unfamiliar shiver through a body that was definitely not hers.
The weight of the horns, the length of her hair, the sheer wrongness of it all made her want to scream again.
Before she could spiral any further, strong arms wrapped around her.
“Alright, up you go,” a voice muttered.
Ren barely had time to react before she was lifted effortlessly off the ground.
She let out an undignified squeak as she was carried across the room, her face instinctively burying itself in the crook of the demon girl’s shoulder.
The girl didn’t seem fazed.
She moved with ease, like carrying someone was second nature, and a moment later, Ren was gently placed onto the bed.
Ren wanted to protest.
But the other demon girl—who was still standing there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot—finally spoke up.
“Uh… so, you okay now?”
Ren turned toward her, unsure how to answer.
Her throat still felt raw from yelling, and honestly, no, she was not okay.
But what was the point in saying that?
Silence stretched between them before she sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Okay, so, first things first—do you have a name?”
Ren opened her mouth, then hesitated.
She did, didn’t she?
She could feel it at the edge of her mind, something familiar in a sea of confusion.
“Ren,” she finally said.
“I think… my name is Ren.”
The girl crossed her arms and tilted her head.
“Huh. Doesn’t sound very unique.”
Ren scowled.
“Sorry, I didn’t exactly have a say in it.”
The girl smirked.
“Relax, I’m just messing with you.”
She nodded and straightened up, then placed a hand over her chest.
“My name is Ozamas. Your attendant and bodyguard, at your service.”
Ren stared.
“Attendant… and bodyguard?”
Ozamas gave her a small, almost sheepish smile.
“Assigned by who?”
Ozamas hesitated, then shrugged.
“The Demon King. Sort of. It’s… complicated. But I’ll explain everything.”
“Yes. My job is to protect and guide you.”
Ren rubbed her temples, careful not to hit the horns.
“Alright, so… what the hell is going on? Where am I?”
Ozamas tilted her head.
“You don’t remember anything?”
“No. Last thing I remember, I was… definitely not here, and definitely not a girl!”
Ozamas raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, but why’s that a problem?”
Ren groaned.
“Because I was a guy! I had a—”
She gestured vaguely at her lower half, then at her chest.
“And now I have these! And everything feels… wrong!”
Ozamas squinted at her.
“But you’re alive, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you can still walk, talk, and think, right?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“So what’s the big deal?”
Ren threw up her hands.
“I don’t know how to be a girl! I’ve never been one before!”
Ozamas crossed her arms.
“It’s not that different, really. Just… less upper body strength and more balance. You’ll get used to it.”
Ren gave her an exasperated look.
“That’s not how that works!”
Ozamas shrugged.
“I mean, I don’t see the issue. If I woke up as a guy, I’d just move on with my life.”
“That’s easy for you to say!”
“Is it?” She smirked.
“Of all the things you could be worried about, this is what’s bothering you?”
“There’s plenty that’s bothering me- But this is just the-”
Ozamas covered her face with one hand, trying to hold down her laugh.
“Okay, okay! I get it!”
Ren held up her hands in surrender.
Ozamas chuckled.
“See? Not all bad.”
Ren slumped forward, burying her face in her hands.
The whole conversation was ridiculous, but deep down, she knew Ozamas had a point.
What was the alternative?
Sit here and cry about it forever?
No. She had to deal with it.
With a deep breath, she pulled her hands away and stared at them—slender, delicate, not the hands she remembered.
The weight of her hair was a constant reminder that this was real.
She closed her eyes.
‘Alright. New plan. I am now a demon girl. I am now a demon girl…. I am… Ok. OK. This sucks, but I need to focus on getting home. That means figuring out what’s going on and dealing with whatever insanity this world throws at me and finding a way back.’
Her stomach grumbled.
‘And probably food. Eventually.’
Ozamas watched her in amusement.
“So, are we done with the identity crisis for now?”
Ren let out a long, suffering sigh.
“For now.”
“Great! Because we have important things to discuss.”
Ozamas stood up and gestured toward a small table in the corner.
Resting on top was a thick, ancient-looking tome, bound in deep crimson leather.
The edges of the pages shimmered faintly, and the cover was embossed with symbols Ren couldn’t understand.
“This,” Ozamas said dramatically, “is the Demon King’s final instructions before his disappearance.”
Ren frowned.
“Wait. Disappearance?”
Ozamas nodded.
“Yes. He just… vanished. No one knows where he went, but before he did, he put you in that jar you were in when you first woke up. At least, the body that you currently call yours—and he left that book. I suppose it’s meant to help guide you through whatever it is you are meant to do.”
Ren felt her stomach drop.
“What I am meant to do-?”
“Yes- I think it’s something to do with food.”
“You haven’t read it?”
“No, why would I? It’s not there for me to read now, is it?”
“What do you mean though? By something to do with food-“
“Well, you are the designated scholar of agriculture. So I think the book is about how to go on with your duties?”
“Scholar of Agriculture? Duties? What do you mean-“
“Your duty to keep our nation fed.”
“F..Fed…T-Th..e…N…Nation…”
“Yes.”
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
Ren stared at the book, then at Ozamas.
“I’m not qualified for that!”
***
Ren had just about calmed down from the whole waking up in a new body crisis when Ozamas hit her with the next bombshell.
“You are to be the new Scholar of Agriculture,” Ozamas declared with absolute confidence.
Ren blinked.
“The what now?”
“The Scholar of Agriculture,” Ozamas repeated, as if that clarified anything.
“Your duty is to oversee the food production of the entire demon nation, ensuring sustainability
and efficiency in our agricultural sectors while discovering new sources of nourishment to sustain our armies and civilians alike. That’s generally what the responsibilities of the one holding the title entails.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Ren flailed.
“WHY?!”
Ozamas tilted her head, looking almost puzzled at the question.
“Because the Demon King chose you.”
“That’s not an explanation!”
Ren’s voice cracked as she bolted upright on the bed.
“That’s just blind faith in what sounds like a ridiculously bad decision!”
Ozamas crossed her arms.
“The Demon King’s decisions are never bad. If he picked you, it means you’re the best possible choice for the job.”
“Based on what qualifications?!”
Ren gestured wildly at herself.
“I don’t know the first thing about farming! I kill houseplants just by looking at them too hard!”
“Then you must have an instinctual understanding of what not to do,” Ozamas said, nodding sagely.
“That will be invaluable knowledge in preventing agricultural failures.”
Ren felt her soul leaving her body.
“That’s not how that works.”
Ozamas continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Besides, the Demon King always plans several steps ahead. If he brought you here, that means he knew you were the missing piece. You might not see it now, but soon, it will all make sense.”
Ren pointed a trembling finger at her.
“You sound insane.”
“I sound prepared,” Ozamas corrected.
“You, on the other hand, sound like someone who has yet to embrace their destiny.”
“Destiny?!”
Ren’s voice rose an octave.
“My destiny is to go home and take care of my family! I don’t know anything about feeding a nation!”
Ozamas tapped her chin.
“Are you sure? Maybe you knew in your past life.”
“What past life?! I’m Ren! Just Ren! No secret farmer bloodline, no divine knowledge of agriculture—just a very normal, very unqualified Ren who doesn’t want to be here!”
Ozamas waved a hand dismissively.
“Qualifications don’t matter. If the Demon King believed in you, so do I.”
Ren threw her head back and groaned. “This is a cult.”
“This is a kingdom,” Ozamas corrected again.
“And our king is never wrong.”
Ren clutched at her head, trying to process the sheer, unwavering belief radiating from this woman.
“You are terrifying.”
“Thank you,” Ozamas said, smiling.
Ren flopped back onto the bed, defeated.
This was it.
She was going to be forced to single-handedly figure out demon agriculture based on nothing but blind faith and an allegedly all-knowing king who wasn’t even here.
…She was so doomed.
***
“It’s quite amazing that you are already able to move this freely. I thought it would take about a day or two for you to finally regain your motor functions.”
Ozamas said as she examined Ren’s arm.
Ren too came to the realization that the pain that had been inhibiting her movements was now gone.
“I guess the rapid shocking revelations you gave me played some part in the quick recovery.”
Ozamas let go of her arm and nodded.
“Still, you should lay down and rest. We can continue the rest tomorrow.”
Saying that, Ozamas left.
Taking the book with her as she did.
Now back alone, Ren shifted back under the blanket provided and pondered the information that was jabbed into her today.
‘Why did I think any of this would be smooth sailing?’
***
Outside, Ozamas leaned against the door to Ren’s room.
The book is heavy in her hands.
This whole situation was bizarre.
‘A random demon was now supposed to take over as one of the four Scholars? The Demon King had really outdone himself this time.’
Ozamas groaned and leaned back against the wall.
“I should’ve just stayed in the military,” she muttered.
“At least there, my problems were straightforward. Do this. Do that. Follow orders.”
“Now I gotta babysit this mess.”
Ozamas let out a deep sigh and stared up at the ceiling.
“…This is gonna be a nightmare.”