I expected screams. Torture chambers. Blood on the walls.
That's what humans said demons were like.
But the Demon King's court wasn't chaos. It was silent. Too silent.
The floor was black stone polished smooth, like glass. Pillars twisted up into shadows, not carved, grown, like bone. Demons stood in rows.
Tall.
Silent.
Watching. Not growling beasts, soldiers. Priests. Nobles.
And I was the only human.
The Demon King sat on a throne made of obsidian and ribs. He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
I felt him looking through me.
Like he could see every thought I'd ever had. Every lie I'd told myself to stay strong. Every hope I buried the day they left me behind.
Then came the voice. Not loud. Not deep. It echoed inside my skull like dripping water.
"You are a strategist?"
I swallowed. My voice felt small.
"Yes".
"You were betrayed".
I didn't answer. He already knew.
"You wish revenge".
I met his gaze. Black eyes. Endless. Cold.
"I want justice".
He laughed. Not with sound, with shadow. It rippled through the room. The demons didn't move. But I felt it, their fear.
Even they were afraid of him.
He stood. The flames around the throne parted.
"Then earn it".
The days that followed weren't kind. I was not trusted. Not yet.
They tested me. Traps in the halls. Poison in the food. Demons pretending to be servants, challengers, allies.
I passed each one. Not because I was strong. Because I was smart.
That's the thing nobles never understood.
A sword cuts once.
A mind? It cuts forever.
I learned the demon tongue in two weeks. Studied their wars, their ranks, their divided tribes.
Demons weren't united.
They were barely holding together. The king ruled by fear, yes, but also by respect. A rare kind of power.
And slowly, he started calling on me.
At first, it was small things. Supply caravans. Outpost defenses.
Then war tables.
I stood at the edge, surrounded by generals with horns, wings, tails. They called me "the human" like it was an insult.
Until I showed them how to win three battles without lifting a blade.
Suddenly, "the human" became "Strategist Ayaka".
One night, he summoned me alone.
The throne room was empty, except for fire and silence.
The Demon King stood at the map table, staring down.
"Why did they leave you?"
That question hurt more than I expected.
I clenched my hands. Looked away.
"Because I didn't belong. Not to them. Not really."
He didn't nod. Didn't speak.
Just pointed at the map.
"Then belong here. Make them regret it."
I didn't sleep that night.
His words echoed in my mind.
Belong here.
Could I?
I was human. They were monsters.
But when I looked back... What did the humans gave me?
Pity?
Pain?
A knife in the back?
And what did demons gave me?
A choice.
Even if it came wrapped in fire and blood, it was still a choice.
That was the night I made my first move.
I asked to speak with the demon lords, one by one.
Not as a prisoner. Not as a girl. As a strategist.
Some refused. Some laughed. Some tested me with riddles or spells.
I answered each one.
With reason.
With vision.
With truth.
"You are not like other humans", one said, fangs glinting.
"I'm not", I replied. "I'm better."
And they believed me.
Weeks passed. Then months.
The army changed.
Faster. Smarter. Sharper.
And my mark, the one they carved into my heart, burned less each day. Not because it weakened. Because I no longer wanted to disobey.
Not yet.
I would serve the Demon King.
I would lead his armies.
I would learn everything.
And when the time was right, when all the pieces were in place, I would return to the human lands.
Not for peace.
But for justice.
My justice.