The demons are the enemies of humanity.
This was an unquestionable truth, a fundamental fact ingrained in her since childhood.
There was never a reason to doubt it.
In reality, demons had brought immense suffering to countless humans.
Irushil was no exception—by their hands, she had lost her precious family… her mentor.
However.
The scene before the Hero Irushil’s eyes at this very moment contradicted everything she had believed in for her entire life.
“No… No… This can’t be. This is impossible…”
With a trembling voice, she rejected the sight before her.
The sight of her mentor, who had become a demon.
It was impossible.
How could it be?
Not just anyone, but her mentor.
The woman believed to be dead.
Had become the Demon King, the enemy of all humankind?
Overwhelmed by shock, Irushil desperately denied reality.
And in response, the Demon King.
No, her mother.
Summoned a serpent wreathed in blood-red flames, a power that only the Great Witch Mari could wield.
With a voice that was both calm and hauntingly familiar, she spoke.
“Don’t deny it so stubbornly. If anyone should be able to recognize me, it’s you. My daughter… you must know.”
“No! This can’t be true!!!”
Irushil screamed in utter denial.
She collapsed onto the ground, tears pouring from her eyes.
Mari stood in silence, watching her with a complicated expression.
For now, she held back the demons gathering around them.
“Hah… hah… hah…”
Judah gasped for breath, his breathing ragged.
With a dagger embedded in her knee, she grimaced in pain.
Watching her suffering, Demon General Flantsu let out a cold, mocking laugh.
“That was amusing. More than I expected.”
Holding her black blade aloft, she prepared to end it.
One swing of that ominous, mana-infused weapon, and her life would be over in an instant—it was all too easy to predict.
‘Is this… really how it ends? Am I… going to die so meaninglessly?’
Her dream had been within reach.
Just one more step, and she would have achieved her life’s goal—becoming the Master of the Magic Tower.
But now, that dream lay shattered.
All that remained was despair, wearing the name of death.
There was no means of escape left.
No mana to resist with.
And yet.
‘No… I can’t… I can’t die like this… No matter what, I have to survive…’
If she died, everything would be over.
Especially with her goal so close, Judah refused to accept such an end.
Then what was the way out?
The chances were slim, but there was only one option left.
So Judah.
As the Demon General closed in to claim her life.
Bowed her head.
“I… I surrender!”
“…What?”
“I surrender! I don’t care if you make me a prisoner or a slave—just please… please, spare my life!”
The Demon General’s voice remained icy as she questioned her.
“And why would I bother doing that?”
Desperation filled Judah’s voice as she cried out.
“I—despite my current state, I am the next designated Master of the Magic Tower! I hold significant influence within it, and I know the inner workings of the Empire inside and out! If you let me live, I will dedicate all of it to you—no, to the demons!”
The Demon General groveled, begging desperately for mercy.
Flantsu found the sight utterly pathetic—so much so that she felt an urge to cut this wretch down in an instant.
However.
‘Wait… If this one is the next designated Master of the Magic Tower, then perhaps…?’
A thought crossed her mind, and a faint smile curled at her lips.
Lowering her sword, she spoke in a quiet voice.
“Fine. I shall grant you mercy.”
“Ah!…”
For a moment, Judah’s face lit up with relief.
Watching her rejoice, utterly oblivious, Flantsu silently sneered.
‘Perhaps… this one might prove to be a useful card. A way to clean up this unstable situation once and for all…?’
*
“This… This can’t be happening. This is a dream… Just a dream…”
“…Haa…”
“Tch…”
General Barus mumbled in a daze.
Bound and forced to kneel on the ground, he was surrounded by others who had also been captured not far away.
Among them, the members of the Hero’s party watched him with expressions of sheer contempt.
“What a disgrace… When the Hero warned him over and over again, he refused to listen. And now he’s sitting there, denying reality?”
“No kidding. If someone like him was considered a great general, then it’s no wonder the Empire is falling apart.”
At Cecilia’s remark, the rest of the Hero’s party chimed in, each throwing in their own words of scorn.
They felt no sympathy for the man who had doomed everything with his arrogance, now reduced to a delusional wreck muttering nonsense.
Meanwhile.
Unlike her companions, who mocked the broken general.
One person remained silent.
Hero Irushil.
A deep look of torment clouded her face.
‘Why… Why did things turn out this way?’
Her mentor’s survival had been something she had never expected.
If that had been the only revelation, she would have smiled with nothing but joy.
After all, learning that her mother—whom she thought was dead—was actually alive…
That was something a daughter should rightfully be happy about.
But that survival had come in the worst possible form.
Her mentor… had returned as the Demon King.
The one who was meant to protect humanity.
The Hero’s mentor.
Had become the very thing she had sworn to fight.
This was a reality Irushil did not even want to consider—yet it was enough to throw her heart into complete turmoil.
Was that person truly her mentor?
Her appearance, her voice—everything was exactly the same.
Every instinct within Irushil told her that the woman before her was undeniably Mari, her mentor.
And yet.
Her rational mind, the part of her that was the Hero, screamed that it was nothing more than a Demon King wearing her mentor’s face.
Unable to come to any conclusion, she could only struggle in silent agony.
Her companions, watching from the sidelines, wanted to say something—anything—to her.
But no words came.
They understood all too well.
With how conflicted she already was, no amount of talking would help her now.
Then.
Creak.
The sound of iron bars groaning open.
A sudden noise that sent a chill down their spines.
A group of demons entered the room.
The expressions of the captured humans immediately hardened.
As prisoners, their lives now rested entirely in the demons’ hands.
Depending on the situation, their heads could roll at any moment.
Tension thickened as they nervously watched the demons’ every move.
Then.
“Take her.”
“Y—Your Grace!”
Demons grabbed Irushil by the arms.
As she was pulled away, she spoke in a quiet voice.
“Where… are you taking me?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Though they gave no real answer, she already had a vague idea.
Dragged along by the demons, she was eventually led into a room.
A surprisingly elegant one.
And there, sitting at the grand table in the center.
Was the person who had thrown her mind into complete disarray.
Her mentor.
Mari.
“You’ve done well. You may leave now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The demons bowed to Mari before swiftly exiting the room.
Alone together at last.
An indescribable awkwardness filled the air.
Irushil stood motionless, unable to bring herself to sit.
Then.
“Sit down. How long do you plan to stand there?”
Mari’s voice was calm, yet firm.
Irushil hesitated, discomfort flickering across her face, but she eventually took a seat.
As she did, Mari poured tea into a cup that had been prepared in advance.
Lemon tea.
Mari’s specialty.
And Irushil’s favorite.
A trivial detail—yet in this moment, even something as small as a cup of tea seemed to confirm exactly who the person before her truly was.
Faced with this undeniable familiarity, Irushil could only remain silent.
And as she studied Irushil’s troubled expression, Mari spoke in a quiet voice.
“You don’t look happy. It’s been so long since you last saw your mentor… No, your mother. Are you really that displeased?”
Her tone was casual, almost teasing.
A simple remark—yet to Irushil, it felt like a dagger piercing her heart.
“You are not my mother! My mother is”
“You’re saying the same thing you did back then. When I told you to give up magic and become a warrior instead…”
“…! Kh…”
Memories struck her like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.
Irushil clenched her teeth and fell silent once more.
Seeing this, Mari’s voice took on a more serious tone.
“I understand how you feel. Honestly, if this were a year ago, even I wouldn’t have been able to imagine this situation. But there are some truths you must accept. I am the Demon King now… and at the same time, I am still the very person who was once your mentor. And your mother.”
“…Why…? Why did this happen? How… how could you become this…?”
Her voice trembled as she asked the question.
Yet despite her pain, she still called her mother.
Seeing that, Mari let out a quiet sigh and offered a bitter smile.
“That’s because…”
And so, the story began.
How she had been betrayed by the Empire.
And how she had been saved—by the Demon King.
The past year.
How she had earned merit.
How a twist of fate had led her to follow the will of the Great Demon King.
And how she had ultimately risen to the throne of the Demon King.
After finishing her story, Mari looked at Irushil.
Her expression was more conflicted than before.
Gently, Mari extended her hand toward her.
“And so… my daughter. I want you to stand by my side. Let us join hands—as mother and daughter—and take revenge on those filthy humans.”
A request filled with sincere fury.
And an even deeper longing.
Looking at the Demon King’s outstretched hand, Irushil hesitated for a moment.
And then.
She made her decision.