Ethan has never claimed to be a great adventurer.
Sure, he carried a sword. It was chipped in three places, and the handle smelled faintly of mold, but it was technically a sword. And yes, he'd once been hired by a village to chase off a pack of wolves — though "chased off" meant he screamed so loudly that the wolves themselves decided he wasn't worth the trouble.
So, no, Ethan was not even the type to stride into dungeons with heroic confidence. He was the type to wander into one by accident because he misread a road sign. Which, as fate would have it, is exactly what landed him in the ruins of an ancient demon temple on that fateful night.
The temple was silent, lit only by cracks of moonlight through its broken ceiling. The walls were carved with runes that pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of something still alive after centuries of sleep.
"Creepy," Ethan muttered, stepping over a cracked mosaic of some demon goddess devouring a knight. "Ten out of ten, definitely cursed. Which means I should turn around, go home, and—"
His boot snagged on a loose stone. He stumbled, flailed, and crashed directly into the center of the floor.
A ring of ancient symbols ignited beneath him.
"Oh. Oh no."
The circle blazed with crimson fire, lines of light racing outward like veins. Ethan scrambled to his feet, patting out sparks that caught on his sleeve. He spun in place, searching for an exit, but the magic was already humming, crackling, filling the chamber with oppressive heat.
"This is fine," he whispered, voice shaking. "This is just one of those normal, everyday… summoning circles. Which usually summon… demons. Haha. Great."
The fire shot upward in a pillar of scarlet light, swallowing him whole. His scream echoed with the collapsing temple stones until everything blinked out.
---
When Ethan's vision cleared, he was not standing on cracked stone anymore. He was standing on polished obsidian tile, smooth and gleaming under warm lanterns. The air smelled faintly of roses and… something sweeter, darker.
And then he realized he was not standing at all.
He was kneeling.
Because he had just materialized inside what was unmistakably a vast bathing pool, steam curling lazily off the water's surface.
And sitting across from him, reclining against the dark marble edge, was the most beautiful — and terrifying — woman he had ever seen.
Her hair spilled down her shoulders like midnight silk. Her horns, curved elegantly back from her temples, glistened faintly with droplets of water. Her crimson eyes regarded him with a mixture of icy disdain and startled curiosity.
The Demon Queen.
He had seen tapestries, woodcuts, exaggerated propaganda posters in human taverns. But nothing did justice to the sheer presence of her — regal, radiant, a being carved from equal parts power and allure.
Also, she was naked.
Ethan's brain short-circuited. He slapped his hands over his eyes, squeaking out, "S-sorry! Wrong room! Wrong spell! I'll just, uh, unsummon myself and—"
The sound of water shifting made him peek through his fingers despite himself.
The Demon Queen had risen from the pool, water sliding down her flawless skin in rivulets. She moved with the grace of a predator, each step toward him echoing softly against the chamber walls.
"Interesting," she said, voice like velvet laced with venom. "A mortal… summoned here? No incantation. No offering. No permission."
Her eyes narrowed. "Do you have a death wish?"
"Yes!" Ethan blurted, still covering his face. "No! Maybe? Look, I didn't mean to intrude. I was just exploring, and then there was this glowing circle, and it wasn't labeled properly, and—"
"Silence."
The word hit him like a hammer. His body froze against his will, trembling. She was closer now, close enough that he felt her presence press against him like heat from a forge.
"And yet," she continued softly, "you dare cover your eyes before me? Do you find me… repulsive?"
That question was a trap. He knew it was a trap. But his panic-addled brain reacted before logic could intervene.
"You're gorgeous!" he yelped. "I've never seen anyone so—so terrifyingly, beautifully perfect in my life!"
The words rang through the chamber. Silence followed.
Ethan winced. That sounded less like a desperate plea for mercy and more like… a confession.
Slowly, he lowered his hands from his face.
The Demon Queen was staring at him, her lips parted, her crimson eyes widened ever so slightly. She wasn't blushing — demons didn't blush, right? — but there was a subtle shift in her aura, like storm clouds hesitating before thunder.
"…Foolish mortal," she murmured, though her voice lacked its former bite. "Flattery will not save your life."
"I wasn't flattering!" Ethan protested. "I mean—I was, but not on purpose. You're—you're seriously out of my league. Like, multiple leagues. Interdimensional leagues. Honestly, I don't even know why I'm still talking right now instead of dying."
The Queen stared at him for another long, unreadable moment. Then, to his utter horror, the corner of her mouth quirked upward.
"Curious," she said.
A snap of her fingers dispelled the paralysis holding his body. Ethan collapsed onto his butt, gasping.
"You will explain yourself," she commanded. "Who you are. How you came to trespass in my sanctum. And why you think you can speak to me so freely without fear."
Ethan's mouth went dry.
"I'm Ethan," he said quickly. "Just Ethan. Adventurer, kind of. Bad with swords, worse with maps. And as for the rest, I really, really didn't mean to come here. It was an accident. Total accident. And if you want me gone, I'll go, just—just please don't fry me into human jerky."
The Demon Queen tilted her head, studying him. "An accident," she echoed. "Yet you spoke words that no man has dared utter to me in centuries."
Ethan blinked. "What, that you're beautiful?"
Her gaze sharpened.
"Careful," she warned. "Your tongue wields dangerous weapons."
Ethan threw his hands up. "I swear, my tongue is completely unarmed!"
For the briefest instant, silence reigned again. Then, against all odds, a soft laugh slipped past her lips.
The sound was low, melodic, utterly disarming. Ethan's jaw dropped. Had he just—made the Demon Queen laugh?
Impossible.
But there she stood, covering her mouth with delicate fingers, eyes glimmering with something almost human.
"…Intriguing," she whispered at last, her smile vanishing as quickly as it came. "You are no ordinary mortal."
"Correction," Ethan said weakly, "I'm the most ordinary mortal you could possibly meet."
"We shall see."
Before he could protest, a dozen armored guards burst into the chamber, spears leveled, wings unfurling with menacing speed. Their eyes went wide at the sight of Ethan, a drenched mortal kneeling before their naked Queen.
One guard snarled. "Your Majesty! Shall we kill him?"
Ethan threw up his hands again. "Yes please—wait, no! No killing! Option two, I'll take option two!"
The Queen raised her hand. The guards froze instantly.
"…Take him to the dungeons," she ordered. Her eyes lingered on Ethan, thoughtful. "I will decide his fate personally."
As rough hands seized Ethan's arms and dragged him toward the door, he couldn't help blurting one last line — the kind of line only an idiot at the brink of death would say.
"For the record," he called back, "if this is my last day alive, I'm still glad I got to see you smile."
The guards yanked him out of the chamber before he could see her reaction.
But for the first time in centuries, the Demon Queen's cheeks warmed with something dangerously close to a blush.