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The Kingdom of Gieoral.
Freya rode a unicorn, a serene smile on her face, the picture of a holy maiden.
"I wonder what the new companion will be like. I'm actually looking forward to it."
Her eyes sparkled, but deep in their depths a malicious current stirred.
"This journey is so dull," she murmured. "Why isn't there any fun?"
She hugged one arm with the other, a flash of cruelty flickering across her face before she smoothed it away.
No. I must restrain myself. I am the first princess of Gieoral, a symbol of sanctity. I can't let this side of me show. Damn that new hero. You'd better be useful. Otherwise...
Her mouth curled into a smile, then she froze.
"What is this…?"
She reached out and took a sheet of black parchment. Strange, dizzying characters covered it from edge to edge.
"Sign a contract, pray to a demon, and you shall be answered."
Freya cradled the parchment, whispering to herself. "Interesting. A script that belongs to no nation. And yet I can read it." She gave a little wave of her hand. "Seems these demons are improving."
The kingdom's knights behind her halted at her signal and began to make preparations. A luxurious tent was erected in short order.
Freya stepped inside, clutching the demonic contract. Excitement glittered in her eyes. The timing of this demon's appearance was perfect. She was almost at the point of losing control of the urge to break things.
With a faint smile, she placed her name on the contract. "Come forth, demon. Delight me."
No sooner had the words left her lips than the tent filled with a dazzling light. A dark-red, obscure magic circle glowed on the ground.
Footsteps sounded. Out of the circle came Edgar: black hair, black eyes, the bearing of an ancient noble.
"Oh my, quite handsome," Freya cooed, touching her cheek. Her gaze went dark and deep, a dangerous smile forming. "Looks like you're my contractor."
Edgar turned and his attention was first caught by pale pink hair flowing softly. That delicate, holy face was smooth as white jade. Tall and ample, even her lavish clothing seemed to have been tailored to leave room to admire the sinful curves beneath. Looking down, her waist was slender without an ounce of fat. White thigh-high stockings hugged legs of perfect proportion.
Pure. Sacred. Beautiful. Elegant. Every flattering word seemed to fit the girl.
"This is the place I've been summoned to…" Edgar thought. Overall, the world seemed highly capable. Its baseline was clearly high. Take Freya alone—she probably outclassed ordinary high-ranking demons. How strong the top-tier forces of this world were, he couldn't say. But compared to Akatomo's world, this one seemed much better suited for a familiar to level up by slaying monsters.
There were likely many beings here worthy of becoming a familiar. Like the princess before him.
"Contractor," Edgar said, amused. "What's your wish?"
"Simple," Freya's eyes flashed and an icy smile curved her lips. "I want you. Be my toy."
"Don't worry, I'll try not to break you."
Edgar laughed and shook his head. "That won't do. Looks like the deal's off."
She truly was a sadistic princess. Still, he had experience dealing with people like her.
"Refusing?" Freya's smile remained sweet but her mind had already warped.
"What a useless demon," she said, smiling. "In that case, I'll handle things myself."
A faint buzzing filled the air. At her words, a pale-blue magic circle rose from the ground.
Several chains of ice whipped through the air, closing in on Edgar.
But just as they were about to fall, a surge of tangible magic burst from his body.
Crack! Crack!
Countless fractures spread across the chains before they exploded into glittering shards.
"Tch. That little trick? You think something like that can deal with me? Don't you think you're underestimating me a bit?"
Edgar stepped forward with a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"But since you dared attack me, have you thought about what price you'll be paying?"
"My, my… looks like you're not some run-of-the-mill demon," Freya said with a dazzling smile, though her expression stayed calm.
After all, she was the Hero of Magic. Outside, the kingdom's knightly order stood guard. Against just one demon? Hardly worth worrying about.
But in the very next heartbeat, her expression changed.
Edgar's figure—she didn't even know when—had already appeared right in front of her.
A fist loomed large in her eyes, expanding like a rushing storm.
"When—?"
A flicker of horror shot through Freya's gaze. The sacred staff, Vánargand, blazed with brilliant light, a shield of pure magic condensing in the air.
Boom!
Edgar's fist came down.
The raw force exploded outward, smashing through the barrier in a single strike.
Freya's features twisted as a scream tore from her throat. Her body went flying, completely out of control, tearing through the tent wall and leaving a gaping hole before crashing into the ranks of the knightly order outside.
Edgar drew back his fist, his eyes glinting.
"The staff of Vánargand… its power is probably on par with some divine relics."
That punch just now—he had deliberately held back. His goal had been to knock Freya out of the fight, not kill her outright.
Even so, her magic shield had already dampened some of the impact.
Off in the distance, the knights of the kingdom were left stunned.
The clash of armor rang out as swords were hastily drawn in unison.
"Kh—khhh!"
Freya coughed violently, glaring in shock and fury at the figure emerging calmly from the tent.
With a sweep of her hand, she barked, "Knights of the kingdom, hear my command! Kill that demon!"
"Yes, my lady!"
With a thunderous roar, the knights launched into their charge.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The earth shook beneath their march.
These were no ordinary soldiers. To be entrusted with protecting the princess herself meant they were the elite of the elite.
Within seconds, they were nearly upon Edgar.
But—
He simply took a single step forward.
Whummm.
A wave of unseen frost surged outward.
The charging knights froze mid-stride as an icy chill pierced to the very core of their souls. In an instant, thick layers of frost swallowed their legs.
Crack! Crack!
The ice spread and shattered violently.
One after another, the knights were consumed, their bodies crystallizing before crashing to the ground as lifeless ice statues.
Thud!
Freya, hand still raised mid-command, swallowed hard, her throat dry.
The elite knights she'd brought with her—wiped out in the blink of an eye.
Even seeing it happen with her own eyes, her mind refused to accept it. Blank disbelief filled her thoughts.
"Now then… looks like it's just the two of us."
Edgar began walking toward her, each step pounding in her chest like a drumbeat.
"You… with power like this… are you one of the Demon King's generals?"
Freya sucked in a sharp breath, regaining her composure as she raised the sacred staff high.
"But don't forget—I am the Hero of Magic."
"Even the Demon King himself is destined to fall before me."
The staff of Vánargand erupted in blinding radiance, so bright it shook the very heavens and stirred the winds of the earth.
"..."
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