episode_0103

The fall of the empire had a profound impact on the Holy Kingdom as well. The onslaught of the Demon King’s army, surging from all directions except the sea, was impossible to fully repel despite the desperate efforts of the Hero and the Swordmaster.

The Holy Kingdom—humanity’s last bastion. When Arina set foot on that land, she encountered a peculiar fate.

A striking figure with golden hair and crimson eyes. A beautiful young man, wary of her, drew his sword.

From his perspective, it was a disaster. Having barely escaped his fallen kingdom, he now found himself face-to-face with none other than the Demon Queen herself.

But the Demon Queen, whom he expected to attack mercilessly, only stared at him with a dumbfounded expression, her eyes wide.

“The Demon King…?”

Arina muttered unconsciously before quickly shaking her head.

For a moment, she had mistaken him—but she soon realized he was someone else.

The demonic energy flowing through her, inherited from her husband, was absent in this man.

Though he later revealed his true form, when she first met him and surrendered herself, the Demon King had looked exactly like this.

“The Demon King? What are you talking about all of a sudden—?”

“Ah, no… Who are you?”

“Ian Felix. No—my family has already fallen because of you, so I’m just Ian, an adventurer now.”

Beside the young man who gave his name was a woman who appeared to be his lover.

He pointed his sword as if ready to strike at any moment and whispered in a voice low enough only for his beloved to hear.

“Millen. Run.”

“What are you saying? Half the Holy Kingdom is already occupied—there’s nowhere left to run. Here, we either kill this woman or die. There’s no other choice.”

Even as the two exchanged words, resigned to death, Arina struggled to make sense of her own confusion.

“You… What’s your relationship with the Demon King?”

“Hah, ridiculous. The Demon Queen is asking me about my relationship with the Demon King? Do I look like his friend or something?”

Judging by his reaction, the man seemed to know nothing about the Demon King.

But if that was the case—why had her husband taken that form when they first met? Did he know this man?

“I suppose I should check.”

Vines erupted from the ground, coiling around the young man’s body.

“Ghk—!”

“Ian!”

The man groaned under the crushing force of the vines.

Unable to stand by, the woman lunged at Arina with a dagger, only to be swiftly bound in the same manner.

Struggling against the vines tightening around his neck, the young man gasped out:

“Please… let her go.”

“You’d sacrifice yourself for your lover?”

“Yes. Do whatever you want to me—just let Millen go.”

“Ian, what are you saying?! I won’t let that happen! If we die, we die together! If you die, I’ll follow you!”

“Hmm…”

The sight of lovers willing to throw away their lives for each other struck Arina as beautiful.

It was the image of a family she had once dreamed of—and ultimately abandoned.

Perhaps because of that, Arina released them.

“Hey. I… wanted to be like you.”

The man, rubbing his sore neck with a puzzled expression, asked:

“Like me?”

“Yeah. Someone who could love and be loved. A man who’d give his life for his lover.”

The man named Ian resembled the idealized version of herself that Arina had once envisioned.

Though far weaker in strength, he possessed something far more important—

A lover who truly cherished him.

“A man? So you really are…”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a famous story among adventurers. The mysterious mage Arina—a legendary figure whose very existence was uncertain, an unparalleled talent but an extreme secretist. The rumors suddenly stopped one day, and I always wondered why. It was around the time news broke that Riel Frost had been captured, wasn’t it?”

“…You’re quite sharp, aren’t you?”

Demon Queen Arina, adventurer Arina, and Riel Frost—

He had instantly pieced together that they were all the same person.

At this point, were there any other humans who knew this much?

“Not really. I just looked into it because I figured someone like you, who scours unclaimed dungeons, might show up in our territory one day.”

Though he played it off as coincidence, there was no doubt he was a capable man.

“Well, fine. I’ll let you both go.”

She was still curious why her husband had taken this man’s form—but in the end, it didn’t matter.

She was already his possession, and that fact would never change.

Arina handed them talismans.

“Wear these around your necks, and the Demon King’s army won’t attack you. One each is enough.”

“Then why are you giving us four?”

The woman eyed the unexplained kindness with suspicion. In response, Arina offered congratulations.

“For the child in your womb. Twins.”

As she handed the talisman over, Arina paused, bending her wrist slightly before asking:

“Do you love your husband?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because Ian pulled me out of the mud. He taught me—a thief who lived my whole life stealing—how to live like a human being without taking from others.”

How enviable. If I’d had someone like that, the world wouldn’t have turned out like this.

Pushing aside the familiar pang of loneliness, Arina turned to leave.

She had an old acquaintance to reunite with—someone who could have been that person for her.

Saint Marika.

“Nngh… Ugh…”

Marika opened her eyes.

To her, it felt like a single night—but in reality, nearly three years had passed.

Her friend’s self-destructive attack, fueled by demonic energy. After exhausting her strength, her friend had been captured, and Marika had lost consciousness.

“You’re awake?”

“Yeah. Riel.”

As expected, the one who greeted her upon waking was her childhood friend.

Of course. If not for the one who put her to sleep, she would never have regained consciousness.

And that meant one thing—her comrades had lost.

“What happened while I was asleep? The others… Did you kill them?”

“I haven’t met Yuria yet, but Leona and Erwin are alive. Though I made sure they’d wish they were dead.”

“I see.”

Even hearing about the suffering inflicted on her friends and comrades, Marika’s reaction was detached.

She had expected this the moment her childhood friend stood before her.

With her mind clear now, she understood—

What they had done.

How absurd their thinking had been.

Turning our childhood friend into a woman and making her a pack mule’s plaything so we could all live happily together? That wasn’t normal.

“I’m sorry.”

“Apologies after being captured don’t hold much weight.”

“I mean it.”

“……”

Arina couldn’t deny it.

There was no trace of deceit in that face she hadn’t seen in so long.

Her childhood friend’s eyes looked as they had before the world had gone mad.

“You asked what happened while you were asleep? The human world has fallen. There’s still resistance, but it won’t last much longer. I joined the Demon King willingly, became his wife. Now, I lead his armies, slaughtering the resistance. How’s that? Disappointed?”

As expected, Marika’s pupils dilated—she hadn’t anticipated things going this far.

The shocking words, regrettably, were not lies.

The ominous energy swirling within Arina proved it.

So this is how broken we’ve become.

Our relationship.

And you too.

A tear formed in Marika’s eye and fell.

But she quickly steadied herself and spoke.

“I… can’t praise you for that.”

“Why so dull? Isn’t this when you should be yelling at me like before? ‘How could you betray the Goddess and side with the Demon King?’ ‘Killing people is the greatest sin.’”

Arina sneered, reciting the lectures Marika used to give. But instead of anger, Marika only looked sorrowful.

“I don’t have the right. Your sins… began with us.”

“Stop it!”

Arina snapped, shoving Marika down by the shoulders.

Marika met her furious gaze head-on.

“What?”

“This act—pretending to feel guilt, pretending to be normal! That’s not you. You’re the kind of bitch who’d betray a friend of over ten years just to get laid!”

Her nails dug into Marika’s shoulders, making her wince in pain.

“‘My sins began with you, so I don’t have the right’?”

Repeating those words, Arina tore off her coat.

“Then pay the price. Hurt as much as I’ve been hurt!”

“Huh?!”

She ripped apart the clothes of Marika, who still couldn’t move freely.

“Honestly, I couldn’t figure out what kind of pain would hurt you the most.”

How can I make you suffer more?

How can I leave the deepest scars in your heart?

What is the worst pain for you?

She had agonized over it until the moment Marika woke—but found no answer.

To a saint, the most devout of clergy, the body was merely a vessel to serve the Goddess.

Physical or social torment, like what she’d done to the other two, held little meaning.

She needed to defile the mind, the soul—but Marika was an orphan with no family, no one to lean on but herself.

There was no loved one to kill before her eyes to wound her heart.

Her adoptive father, Arkazal, was already dead. And though they’d slept together countless times, Arina wasn’t even sure Marika truly loved the pack mule.

“But now I get it. Trying to hurt you was the wrong approach.”

“What are you—Hngh?!”

Stripped completely naked, Marika was pinned down as Arina bit her nape.

“You’re such a good friend, offering to share my sins. I should repay you, not seek revenge.”

As she spoke, Arina stroked the space between her legs. An icy pillar rose from her touch.

“Riel…? What are you—?”

“You said you loved me, right? I’ll give you what you wanted. Pity this body can only offer a fake now.”

The ice jutting from Arina’s pants perfectly mimicked a man’s phallus.

“Riel… No. This is wrong—Ngh!”

Ignoring her protests, Arina thrust the icy shaft inside, burying it to the hilt in one motion.

“Kyaah?!”

Though similar in size to the pack mule’s, the hard ice forced inside without warning made Marika cry out in pain.

Unfazed, Arina began moving her hips.

Having only ever been on the receiving end, her movements were awkward.

“I love you, Marika.”

A low whisper directly in her ear.

A fantasy come to life—yet Marika felt no joy.

The voice lacked the affection she had dreamed of, leaving only hollow, emotionless words.

“Is this what you wanted? Is this why you betrayed me?”

She spoke coldly, asked indifferently. Are you satisfied now?

In that moment, Marika felt pain—

Not from the ice violating her body, but from the situation itself.

The man she loved, now a woman, violating her with a fake phallus.

The knowledge that she had reduced him to this made tears spill from her eyes.

Regret, guilt, grief—it didn’t matter what it was. It could have been all of them.

Facing her sins felt like being bound by wind, dragged into a suffocating swamp.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Riel…”

“For what? I’m asking if you’re happy now!”

“Aah!”

She rammed the ice deeper.

Though she moved as if in the throes of passion, their bodies and hearts were not connected.

This wasn’t sex—it was nothing at all.

Resentment, hatred, and the faintest trace of affection—

A grotesque, twisted mess of emotions with no meaning, just madness.

“It hurts, Riel…”

“It hurts? I hurt worse! I had to writhe on something much bigger than this just to survive! Do you understand?!”

The agony of erasing herself as a man, of becoming a bitch beneath another.

She had accepted it now—but not at first.

Shortly after becoming the Demon King’s queen, Arina had lived in fear of his nightly visits.

In the throes of pleasure, it was bearable—but once sanity returned, she faced the truth.

I’ve lost my pride. My righteousness. I’ve sold my body like a whore.

The reflection in the mirror was beautiful, but her soul had long since rotted into something hideous.

“Well, Marika? Do you understand now? The heart of someone who’s fallen this far?”

She knew how twisted she’d become. Knew she was insane.

Even now, the rationality still clinging to her forced her to see herself objectively.

But that rationality hadn’t been enough to survive. In the end, she couldn’t endure.

At some point, she had started climbing into her husband’s bed of her own volition.

Now, separated from him, she drowned her reason in blood and vengeance.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… Hic, ugh. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Even with ten mouths, she had no words. So Marika could only repeat the same apology endlessly.

I should have been stronger. Even if my will was manipulated, I should have resisted.

For the man she had loved. For the childhood friend who had loved her.

Filled with regret for what could never be undone, she wept, her lips forming apologies until they were raw.

Though her initial goal—to wound Marika’s heart—had been achieved, neither of them realized it.

In that tiny, barren room with only a bed, a desk, and a few belongings, two women who were no longer themselves cried as their bodies intertwined.