Chapter 3: The Girl Who Seeks the Demon King

The blood-red sky was as clear as flawless carnelian.

A gentle breeze drifted through the air, occasionally carrying faint, broken screams.

This was the heart of the Demon Realm.

Under the crimson heavens, the silver-gray Demon King’s Palace stood out starkly.

After a thousand years of silence, its sealed gates were finally opened just a few days ago.

But the Demon King, who once resided within, was nowhere to be found.

Just days earlier, when the top-tier powerhouses of the Demon Realm pushed open those ancient doors prepared to welcome back the king who once cut through the Celestial Realm with nothing but a sword they were met with a chilling discovery.

The royal chambers were empty.

There was no trace of the Demon King, only a bare bedroom and a jet-black longsword stuffed under the table leg, being used as a makeshift prop.

The king who should have awoken was gone, vanished for reasons unknown.

The news sent waves of panic through all who heard it.

Some of the strongest beings in existence, who could easily crush an entire human empire, nearly tore the Demon Realm apart searching for answers.

It wasn’t until the leader of the fallen angels, Lucifia, reported sensing the Demon King’s presence somewhere on the continent, that the rampaging calmed.

And now that they knew—for whatever mysterious reason—the Demon King had descended upon the continent of Trand, the priority was clear:

Find him. No matter what it takes.

***

A petite vampire princess lounged on a crimson throne, legs crossed.

Her bare little feet swung gently in the air.

Matching that rhythm was the swaying of the cup in her hand, filled with a red liquid.

With the Demon King absent from the Demon Realm, only the members of his exclusive maid unit were allowed to reside in the palace.

Lina took a small sip from her cup, then extended her dainty tongue to lick the red droplets from the corner of her lips.

In front of her stood a black-haired, black-eyed girl with a curvaceous figure.

The girl stood respectfully, hands at her sides, expressionless and silent.

“Firin, you’ve heard the news, haven’t you?” Lina finally spoke.

“Yes, Lady Lina,” Firin replied with a slight bow.

“The passage between the Demon Realm and the continent is still only partially open…”

Lina’s face showed a trace of disappointment.

“Anyone above the Legendary tier can’t pass through the gate right now.”

She gave a small, annoyed kick with her foot, but then sighed in resignation.

“I was going to go find the Demon King myself… but looks like I can’t. I’ve discussed it with the old geezers, and considering your strength and the fact that you’re part of the Demon King’s maid corps, you’re the best candidate for this mission.”

“Understood,” Firin said curtly.

But beneath her lowered head, in the depths of her usually emotionless black eyes, a flicker of excitement—and even joy—flashed for the briefest moment.

“You understand how important this task is, don’t you?” Lina continued, not noticing Firin’s subtle reaction.

“But I believe in you, Firin. You must find the Demon King and bring him back as soon as possible, okay~?”

Lina’s tone turned unusually serious for once.

Her gaze wandered slightly, filled with nervousness, anticipation, and the delicate stirrings of a girl’s hidden feelings.

“I wonder… what kind of person the Demon King really is?”

Resting her chin on her hand, Lina muttered softly to herself.

“Wait! Hold on…”

Just as Firin was about to turn and leave to begin preparations for her journey to the continent of Trande, Lina suddenly called out to her again.

Firin turned her head, her expression puzzled.

In front of her, Lina’s cheeks were faintly red.

She clenched her small fists, hesitated for a moment, then walked quickly up to Firin, trying her best to straighten her small back.

With clear nervousness, she asked, “So? Did I grow just a little taller?”

Firin’s cold, frosty expression shifted ever so slightly.

The corner of her mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

She lowered her head and remained silent.

145.66 cm—among demons, this was a highly taboo number.

It represented the exact height, in millimeters, of the young vampire princess standing before her—Lina, the head maid of the current Demon King’s personal maid team.

Mentioning this number casually would surely lead to a miserable, miserable death… even worse was mentioning it and forgetting one or two of the sixes.

The last time someone made that mistake, it was a drunk fallen angel who slipped up and left off two of them.

Now the grass over his grave is three feet high…

At this moment, Firin looked at the girl standing in front of her.

With years of experience, she could tell at a glance: Princess Lina was still precisely 145.66 cm tall—not even 0.01 cm taller.

In this kind of situation, nothing you say will make her happy.

The best course of action is absolute silence.

Firin knew this very well.

No matter how much Lina prodded her, she kept her lips tightly sealed, refusing to say a single word.

Sure enough, after a long pause, Lina puffed out her cheeks in dissatisfaction and gave Firin a light kick before turning around and storming back to her room to sulk.

Firin finally let out a silent sigh of relief.

Only then did she turn and leave to begin her preparations for the journey to Trande.

“The Demon King…” In Firin’s eyes, a subtle and complex emotion flickered.

There was anticipation.

Fear.

Confusion.

Uncertainty.

And deep within it all, buried at the very bottom—an unstoppable, reckless madness.

The Demon King might be her best, perhaps even her only chance.

No matter how difficult the path ahead, no matter what she would have to face, she had already come this far.

There was no turning back now.

Firin would never choose to give up.

***

[The next day, somewhere in a remote and forgotten corner of the Trande continent…]

A tall, cool-eyed girl quietly descended.