Julius sat inside a temporary command tent with Prince Farid of Naizman and King Thorpel III of the fairies.
Farid had bandages wrapped from his forehead down across one eye, and Julius bore deep cuts on his arm and thigh.
Even with healing magic, wounds this numerous and deep took time to fully mend.
But unlike the other two, King Thorpel—who hadn't participated in battle—was completely unscathed.
"Such a shame things had to turn out this way,"
the fairy king said lightly, as if it were someone else's problem.
Julius offered a thin smile.
They were planning to launch an assault anyway—this just saved them the trouble.
In fact, they should be grateful to have such a convenient excuse.
There's no turning back now.
Naizman and Muria will be crushed while we're at it…
He stopped himself just before those words slipped out.
"A shame, is it? Then why bring it on yourselves?"
he said with a scoff.
King Thorpel shrugged.
"Because Sibareth broke its promise first."
"A few hours of delayed reply doesn't justify invading with an army—
though I suppose I should call it my mistake for not expecting it,"
Julius said dryly.
Prince Farid, who had remained silent until now, snapped.
"We endured more than enough. If we'd waited, how long would it have taken to get a response from Sibareth? A month? Two? You people have no sense of urgency."
"I regret the trouble we've caused you,"
Julius said slowly.
"But I assure you, there was no ill intention behind it. We didn't realize the refugee issue had grown so severe..."
"Didn't realize? We sent envoy after envoy, countless letters—we demanded reparations multiple times!"
Farid's voice rose with frustration.
King Thorpel rested his chin on one hand and watched the two men spar.
"Yes, but we weren't stalling to avoid payment. His Majesty King Minophon has been ill, and with other internal matters…"
Julius trailed off.
Thorpel glanced sideways at Julius, recalling the girl's situation.
But Julius, keeping his expression carefully neutral, didn't so much as glance in his direction.
Thorpel chuckled inwardly.
As if I don't know what's going on in your palace.
That unruly little wench has stirred up a hornet's nest—
even killing the Grand Vizier, no less.
I knew she was something special. I must find a way to bear her child...
"Very well then,"
Prince Farid cut in.
"Let us tell you what we want."
Thorpel's musings were interrupted.
"Go ahead, I'm listening,"
Julius replied, calm as ever.
Outwardly, at least. In truth, his body and mind were both in tatters. After days of nonstop battle, he was exhausted and bleeding.
But Farid was no different. And Julius had no intention of showing weakness—
not with Sibareth's dignity at stake.
"Given how often your side has broken faith, we've made some adjustments to the terms. First, Sibareth shall pay a reparation of one million denarions.
Second, to ensure lasting peace between our nations—"
Farid paused for dramatic effect.
Julius lifted his sharp nose and glared at him.
"To ensure…?"
"A royal marriage alliance."
Julius's brow twitched.
"What did you say? A marriage alliance?"
"Indeed. The details can be negotiated later, but here's our proposal:
You, Grand Duke Julius, are still unwed. We will offer one of our princesses as your bride. In addition, any of your queen candidates shall be matched with one of our unmarried princes."
Julius said nothing.
So this is how they want to play it.
He'd expected as much. A proposal crafted entirely to Naizman's benefit.
The Naizman royal family possessed no innate mana. They wanted to marry into Sibareth's bloodline to produce magical heirs.
The audacity.
Julius had to fight to keep his expression from twisting in disgust.
"And if I refuse?"
He asked coolly. Farid's smile was faint.
"Then it's war without ceasefire. You know the stakes."
"Understood. Now then, shall we hear what the Fairy King has to say?"
Thorpel smiled sweetly.
"Our dear prince here is quite the ambitious one. But as you know, we fairies have no interest in material wealth. 500,000 denarions will suffice."
"You call that 'no interest in wealth'?"
Julius shot him a glare. Thorpel widened his eyes, feigning innocence.
"Grand Duke, that sum is merely to restore the land your refugees have trampled. A modest expense, wouldn't you say?"
"Sounds like we'll need receipts for every leaf of grass. So is that all you're asking for?"
"Of course not. You still need to resolve the matter you left unfinished."
"Unfinished matter?"
"Oh, come now—surely you haven't forgotten how your so-called queen candidate insulted us and fled our land. I let it slide back then because of my... generous nature, but let's not pretend that wasn't a serious diplomatic offense. If we don't resume the process officially, we'll be in an awkward position."
He'll have that child no matter what. And if not the natural way, then by cloning. A human who bathed in the water where a fairy underwent molting? Worth the effort, whatever it takes.
Sensing Thorpel's sinister intentions, Julius's expression twisted.
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand. A future queen should carry herself with dignity, yet a young king with no wife insists on taking over her 'education'? What is your true intent?"
Thorpel recoiled in exaggerated offense.
"How can you say that?! I've told you many times—we are the ones who truly recognize her value. She carries the power of the fairies. We simply want to guide her and conduct further research together."
"And if we refuse this as well? Will the war continue, just the same?"
Thorpel III gave a slight nod of his chin—his answer was clear.
Julius burned with fury. He wanted nothing more than to strike them both down right here. But he had to restrain himself. He had to.
He took a deep breath and spoke as evenly as he could.
"I've heard your demands. Of course, I'll take them into serious consideration, but I alone cannot make that decision—not without the formal coronation. I'll need to consult with the Council of Elders."
He looked at both of them, wearing a carefully constructed look of measured diplomacy.
"May I ask for some time?"
"Of course," Thorpel replied, "but the Elders will need to come here. The Grand Duke may not leave. Your forces remain in place."
Julius nodded.
"Understood. As a token of trust and good faith..."
He drew the dagger he kept tucked in his robes and pressed the blade against the peridot on his forehead. The gem cracked and shattered into fine powder, falling to the ground. Julius then sliced his pinky finger with the same dagger, letting droplets of blood fall onto the soil mixed with the crushed gem.
A bubbling sound emerged from the ground, followed by a faint tremor.
"Where are you taking me?"
Mia asked, trying her best not to look at the "decorations"—the neatly arranged heads lining both sides of the tunnel.
"To the bridal chamber."
Bridal chamber? Oh hell no. This is bad. If only she could still cast a flame spell—but would it even work on the Demon King? She began reciting an incantation in her head.
But something snapped inside her skull—sharp and blinding. Nausea surged up her throat. The demon muttered lazily:
"This is my domain. It's not unlike what humans call 'hell.' Your magic doesn't work here."
That red sky… so it was hell.
And now that her ancient weaponry is gone and her magic is sealed, Mia was, in effect, just a regular human. Is this why Jakiel tried to send her here? So she'd be powerless?
What was it he used to say? That the Demon King isn't like fiends or evil spirits, that he's different? That he doesn't respond to greed, but offers up his treasures only to those who seek them with pure hearts and noble intentions? What a load of carefully packaged nonsense.
That old bastard may be dead, but he was every bit the demon the real one is.
Ugh, screw it—time for another desperate move.
"Uh, excuse me… before the bridal chamber, could I maybe use the restroom real quick?"
"If you're going to lie, at least make it believable. No one needs a restroom in my realm. The atmosphere here reconfigures your body on a molecular level."
"..."
Yeah, okay. That tracks. A Demon King wouldn't play by the same rules as some run-of-the-mill archmage. This is final boss-level territory.
The tunnel of severed heads came to an end. The demon stopped in front of a towering golden door, majestic and ominous. Without pause, he walked through it like there was no door at all.
The door swallowed them like the mouth of a living beast. As they passed through, his steps slowed—and the grip on Mia loosened slightly.
Now's the chance!
She hurled herself out of his arms. A few of the oversized leaves covering her body fluttered off, exposing the wings she'd kept folded until now.
Fly—fly now!
But her body wouldn't respond. It was like her feet were glued to the floor. She thrashed like a helpless rodent caught in a trap.
Then—
The demon's eyes lit up crimson as he looked down at her from above.
He opened his mouth slowly.
"You… are you the Fairy King's girl?"