The morning after the Global Intimidation Broadcast, the atmosphere in the Dark Citadel had shifted. Usually, the air was heavy with the scent of ozone and existential dread. Today, it crackled with something far more terrifying: Fanboy Energy.
Valdred walked down the main corridor toward the War Room. He was trying to maintain his usual pace of "menacing stride," but it was difficult when he was being mobbed.
"Lord Valdred!" a Skeleton Soldier shrieked, clutching its own ribcage. "That speech! The way the shadows moved! I have never felt so proud to be undead!"
"Boss! Boss!" A two-headed Ogre lumbered up, holding a crude drawing of Valdred on a piece of slate. "Sign my forehead! Please! Sign both foreheads!"
Valdred pushed past them gently but firmly. "Get back to your posts! Vigilance does not sleep! The humans could attack at any moment!"
"He's so humble!" the Ogre wept, hugging his brother-head. "He doesn't even want the credit for being terrifying!"
Valdred escaped into the War Room and slammed the heavy iron door behind him, leaning against it with a heavy metallic clank. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor, legs splayed.
"Is it over?" he asked the empty room. "Are they gone?"
"They love you," a familiar, teasing voice chirped. "You're like an idol now. Valdred-chan. The Pop Star of Darkness."
Valdred looked up. Elara was sitting on the edge of the central strategy table, swinging her legs. She looked... rough. She was wearing sunglasses indoors, clutching a massive mug of coffee, and her hair was even messier than usual.
"You look terrible," Valdred noted, standing up and brushing off his cape.
"Mana hangover," Elara groaned, taking a sip of coffee. "You hit me with that 'Empress' line yesterday. It was too potent. My system overloaded. I was glowing until 3:00 AM. I couldn't sleep because my own skin was acting like a nightlight."
She lowered her sunglasses to glare at him with bloodshot, violet eyes.
"You have to be careful with the P-word, Boss. Praise is a drug. Overdose is real."
"I was merely following your directorial instructions," Valdred said, walking over to the table. "Though I admit... the results were effective. The Human Kingdoms have gone silent. Our spies report that the border guards are trembling in their boots."
"Good," Elara yawned. "That buys us some quiet time. Maybe I can finally organize the spell scroll archive without—"
The door to the War Room swung open. Lilith marched in. Her heels clicked on the stone floor with the rhythm of impending doom. She wasn't holding a clipboard today. She was holding a letter. A letter sealed with red wax and a golden crest.
The crest of the Holy Kingdom.
"My Lord," Lilith said, her voice tight. "A courier bat just dropped this. It bypassed our wards."
Valdred stiffened. "A declaration of war? Did Leo decide to attack?"
"Worse," Lilith said, handing him the envelope with two fingers as if it were radioactive.
Valdred took the letter. He broke the seal. He unfolded the parchment.
Elara leaned over his shoulder, her chin resting on his pauldron. "Whatcha got? Death threats? Assassination notice?"
Valdred scanned the text. His brow furrowed under his helmet.
"It is... a Cease and Desist order," Valdred said, baffled.
"A what?" Elara blinked.
"It is from the Hero Party's legal department," Valdred read aloud. "To the Demon Lord Valdred. Regarding the unauthorized acquisition of employee 'Elara'. This is a formal notice that said employee is under a Non-Compete Clause for five years. Please return the asset immediately, or face legal action and/or Divine Smite."
Silence filled the room.
"Pfft," Elara snorted. Then she started laughing. "Hahahaha! Oh my god. That is so Leo! He can't beat you in a fight right now, so he's trying to sue you? He's trying to sue the Demon Lord?"
"He refers to you as an 'asset'," Valdred noted, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. The paper in his hands began to smoke as his grip tightened. "Not a person. An asset."
"Yeah, that sounds like him," Elara said, wiping a tear from her eye. "He thinks he owns me. He thinks because he's the 'Chosen One', everyone else is just an NPC in his story."
Valdred crumpled the letter into a ball. Immediately, the paper burst into black flames and disintegrated into ash.
"Lilith," Valdred commanded. "Prepare the legions. We march on the Holy Capital."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Elara jumped off the table and grabbed Valdred's arm. "Down, boy! No marching! You can't start a war over a letter. That's exactly what he wants. He wants to paint you as the aggressor so he can get more funding from the King."
"He insulted you," Valdred growled. "He treats you like property. I will not allow it."
Elara paused. She looked at the giant, armored warlord who was ready to burn down a kingdom because someone sent her a rude letter.
A faint blush dusted her cheeks.
"Aww," she cooed, poking his bicep. "Are you defending my honor, Demon Lord-sama? That's so chivalrous. Are you my Knight in Shining... uh, Black Armor?"
"I am merely protecting my staff!" Valdred argued, looking away.
"Sure, sure," Elara grinned. "But look, we can't fight yet. However..." She snatched the ashes of the letter out of the air. "The letter mentions a 'negotiation meeting' at the neutral border town of Shadow-Port. To discuss the terms of my return."
"I am not returning you," Valdred stated flatly.
"I know," Elara smiled, a dangerous glint returning to her eyes. "But I think we should go. I want to see the look on their faces when I tell them 'No' in person. I want closure. And..."
She stepped closer, looking up at him.
"I want to show off my new boss. I want them to see that I upgraded."
Valdred felt his heart do a strange flip. Upgraded.
"Very well," Valdred sighed. "We shall go to Shadow-Port. Lilith, assemble the Royal Guard."
"No guards," Elara interrupted. "It's a neutral town. If you bring an army, it's an invasion. Just us. Undercover."
"Undercover?" Valdred looked at his seven-foot-tall jagged black armor. "Elara, I am seven feet of jagged black death. I do not 'blend in'."
"Leave that to me," Elara cracked her knuckles. "Operation: Demon Lord Makeover is a go."
Scene: The Royal Quarters – 1 Hour Later
"This is undignified," Valdred muttered.
He was standing in front of a mirror in his private chambers. Elara had banished his armor to a pocket dimension.
The Demon Lord was currently wearing... "Casual Wear."
Specifically, he was wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark slacks, and a long trench coat to hide his physique. He still had his horns, but Elara had cast an illusion spell to make them look like a funky hat.
The problem was his face. Without the helmet, Valdred felt naked. He had sharp features, pale skin, and eyes that glowed red—but Elara had given him a pair of tinted sunglasses to hide the glow.
He looked less like a Dark Lord and more like a suspiciously handsome mafia hitman on his day off.
"You look great!" Elara clapped her hands, circling him. "Very 'mysterious traveler'. The ladies in Shadow-Port are going to go crazy."
"I do not want the ladies to go crazy," Valdred grumbled, adjusting the sunglasses. "I want to remain unnoticed. Why must I wear this?"
"Because if you walk in wearing the Skull-Plate of Agony, people scream," Elara explained patiently. She adjusted his collar, her fingers lingering on the fabric. "Besides... you look human like this. It's kinda weird. I forgot you had a face under there."
"I have always had a face," Valdred said dryly.
"Yeah, but it's a nice face," Elara muttered, almost to herself.
"What?"
"Nothing!" Elara spun around. "Let's go! I'm wearing my new uniform, so I look official. You're my... bodyguard. Let's go with that."
"Bodyguard," Valdred tested the word. It felt like a demotion, but also strangely appropriate.
Scene: Shadow-Port – The Neutral Zone
Shadow-Port was a city built into the twilight zone between the Human Realm and the Demon Realm. It was a place of perpetual sunset, where lanterns glowed orange and purple, and the streets were filled with a mix of species. Elves drank with Dwarves, and Goblins sold sketchy kebabs to humans.
Valdred walked stiffly through the crowded market street, his hand hovering near where his sword usually was (it was currently disguised as a cane).
"Relax," Elara whispered, hooking her arm through his.
Valdred jolted. "What are you doing?"
"Blending in," Elara hissed, squeezing his arm. "Couples hold arms. If we walk five feet apart, we look suspicious. Just act natural."
"Holding your arm is not natural," Valdred whispered back, sweating. "You are... very close."
"Aww, is the Demon Lord nervous about touching a girl?" Elara teased, looking up at him with a smirk. "Don't worry, I won't bite. Unless you want me to~"
"Elara!"
"Shh! Look, street food!"
She dragged him toward a stall selling "Fire-Squid on a Stick."
For the next hour, Valdred was subjected to the torture known as "A Date." Elara dragged him from stall to stall. She made him try spicy tentacles (he choked), she made him try on silly masks (he refused), and she constantly, relentlessly teased him about his stiffness.
"You walk like you have a broomstick up your... armor," Elara laughed, munching on a candy apple.
"I am scanning for threats," Valdred replied, scanning a shady-looking Elf.
"The only threat here is you stepping on someone," Elara said.
They stopped by a railing overlooking the dark ocean. The purple lanterns reflected on the water. It was... peaceful.
Elara leaned against the railing, watching the waves. The teasing smile faded slightly.
"You know," she said softly. "I never got to do this with the Hero party."
Valdred looked at her. "Do what? Eat tentacles?"
"Relax," she said. "Leo didn't allow 'frivolous activities'. Every town we went to, it was: meet the mayor, get the quest, kill the monster, leave. No sightseeing. No festivals. Just work."
She looked at her candy apple.
"He said heroes don't have time for fun. But I think he just didn't want to spend money on us."
Valdred looked at her profile. The magical lanterns illuminated her silver hair. She looked small, but her presence filled his entire vision.
"Leo is a fool," Valdred said quietly.
Elara looked up.
"Rest is essential for efficiency," Valdred continued, reverting to his logistical mode to hide his feelings. "A stressed soldier makes mistakes. Therefore... this 'fun' is a necessary tactical maneuver."
Elara stared at him. Then she burst out laughing.
"Tactical maneuver? You really are a hopeless workaholic, aren't you?" She shook her head, smiling affectionately. "But... thanks, Valdred. For the tactical maneuver."
She leaned her head on his shoulder. Just for a second.
Valdred froze. He stopped breathing. She is touching my shoulder. Voluntarily. Without a threat.
"Well, well, well."
A cold, sneering voice broke the moment.
Elara lifted her head. Valdred turned.
Standing behind them was a tall, slender High Elf wearing the pristine white and gold robes of the Holy Administration. He adjusted his monocle, looking at them with utter disdain.
"I see the rumors were true," the Elf said. "The Fallen Mage Elara. Consorting with ruffians in the slums."
Elara's expression instantly shifted. The warmth vanished. Her eyes went cold and sharp.
"Thalandor," she said. "I see Leo sent his favorite lapdog. Did he not have the guts to come himself?"
"Sir Leo is busy saving the world," Thalandor sniffed. "He does not have time for traitorous runaways. I am here to deliver the terms of your surrender."
He pulled out a scroll.
"You are to return all equipment provided by the party. You are to pay a fine of 50,000 gold pieces for 'Training Expenses'. And you are to publicly apologize for your desertion."
Valdred stepped forward. The air pressure around him dropped. The playful "bodyguard" vibe vanished, replaced by a suffocating aura of dominance.
"And if she refuses?" Valdred asked, his voice low and vibrating with power.
Thalandor glanced at Valdred. He didn't recognize the Demon Lord without the armor. He just saw a tall human in sunglasses.
"Then she will be branded a criminal," Thalandor sneered. "And you, thug, will be arrested for harboring a fugitive. Do you know who we represent? We are the Heroes. We are Justice."
"Justice," Elara laughed coldly. "Is that what you call it? Exploiting your team? Stealing credit? Charging me for the potions I brewed myself?"
"You should be grateful!" Thalandor shouted, losing his composure. "You are nothing without the Hero! You are just a support mage! A battery! Without Sir Leo to direct you, you are useless trash!"
Snap.
The stone railing under Valdred's hand crumbled into dust.
Elara flinched, not at the insult, but at the sound of stone turning to powder.
Valdred took off his sunglasses.
His red eyes burned with a light that made Thalandor step back in primal fear.
"Useless?" Valdred repeated.
The shadows in the alleyway began to stretch and writhe, reaching toward the Elf.
"You call her useless?" Valdred took a step forward. "She, who reconstructed the Citadel's defensive grid in a day? She, who commands gravity like a plaything? She, whose intellect dwarfs your entire Council?"
"V-Valdred?" Elara whispered, surprised by his intensity.
"You stand there in your borrowed gold," Valdred snarled, looming over the terrifyingly pale Elf, "and you dare to insult my Head Mage?"
Thalandor trembled. "Y-your... who are you?"
"I am the one who knows her worth," Valdred declared. He turned to Elara. He didn't look at the Elf anymore. He looked only at her.
"Elara," Valdred said firmly. "This insect is annoying me. Remove him."
Elara looked at Valdred. She saw the genuine anger in his eyes—anger on her behalf. He wasn't mad about the territory or the law. He was mad that she was being insulted.
A warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with magic.
"Remove him?" Elara asked, a slow, predatory grin forming. "But Boss... I'm feeling a little insecure. He called me trash. My self-esteem is hurt."
She struck a pose, holding her hand out.
"I need you to tell me exactly who I am to you. Am I just an employee? Am I an asset?"
Thalandor looked between them, confused and terrified. "What is happening?"
Valdred didn't hesitate. He grabbed Elara's hand. He pulled her close, his eyes locking onto hers.
"You are not an asset," Valdred declared, his voice ringing through the quiet street. "You are the calamitous storm that guards my throne. You are the only being in this world I respect as an equal. You are my partner, Elara."
Thump.
Elara's heart skipped a beat.
Partner.
Not subordinate. Not servant. Partner.
"Oh," Elara breathed. Her face flushed a deep, brilliant crimson. "Oh, that's... that's a good one. That's a really good one."
Golden light exploded from her body. The purple lanterns shattered. The wind picked up, howling around them.
"Validation Level: Soul-Bonded," she whispered.
She turned to Thalandor. Her eyes were glowing so bright they were white.
"Hey, Elf-boy," she said, her voice distorted by sheer magical power.
Thalandor shrieked. "Wait! I have diplomatic immunity!"
"Diplomatic immunity revoked," Elara said.
She raised one finger.
"Spatial Magic: Begone Thot." (A custom spell).
Space warped around the Elf. A portal opened beneath his feet—not to a dungeon, but to a pig farm in the middle of the Orc lands.
"Tell Leo I said hello!" Elara chirped.
ZOOP.
Thalandor vanished. The scroll fluttered to the ground, burning up in the ambient mana.
Silence returned to Shadow-Port.
Elara stood there, glowing, panting slightly. She slowly turned to Valdred. The light faded, but her blush didn't.
"Partner, huh?" she said, adjusting her glasses to hide her eyes. "You really know how to hit a girl's weak spot, Demon Lord-sama."
Valdred put his sunglasses back on, hiding his own embarrassment. "I... I spoke only the truth."
"Yeah, yeah," Elara punched his arm lightly. It hurt her hand more than him, but she didn't care.
"Let's go home, Boss," she said, grabbing his hand again. This time, she interlaced her fingers with his. "I'm hungry again. And I think you owe me another candy apple."
Valdred looked at their joined hands. He didn't pull away.
"Very well," he said stiffly. "But no tentacles this time."
"Deal."
As they walked back toward the portal gate, watched by confused bystanders, Valdred realized something terrifying.
He wasn't thinking about world domination. He wasn't thinking about the Hero Leo.
He was thinking that her hand fit perfectly in his.
I am in so much trouble, the Demon Lord thought.
And Elara, humming a happy tune beside him, was thinking the exact same thing.