Chapter 17 – Desire Frozen in Ice
Night in Royal Whitefort was deep and heavy, as if the city itself were trying to sleep under the weight of darkness. But inside the Honeyed Pear brothel, silence never truly existed. Soft footsteps echoed along the corridors, muffled laughter and breathy sighs drifted from distant rooms, and somewhere a drunken patron attempted to sing — with very little success.
It was around two in the morning when the madam stopped in front of the most popular girl's door and knocked three firm times.
The girl was already waiting inside, half sitting, half reclining on the bed, as if she were simply expecting another late‑night visitor.
The madam entered with a wide smile, leaning casually against the doorframe.
"Popular as ever, my girl," she said with satisfaction. "This time it's a woman who came for you, and she asked for you specifically. I hope you can entertain women just as well as men. You are becoming the new star of the Honeyed Pear, after all."
The girl ran a teasing hand along her thigh.
"Don't worry. With me, anyone can satisfy their desires — man or woman."
The madam laughed.
"If you keep this up, I'll have to smuggle you into the royal castle every night. You'd make a fortune there. Especially if you managed to seduce a high‑ranking noble."
"If I get into the castle," the girl shrugged, "I'll sleep in the king's bed."
The madam's expression darkened.
"Don't dream about that anymore. You didn't hear it from me, but… I learned that the King died in Greenwood during the Royal Hunt."
The girl sat up in shock.
"You don't say… that's terrible. Who killed him?"
"Demons attacked them," the madam replied, lowering her voice. "Apparently one of the Demon Generals — the one the two heroes eventually defeated. But our King died a heroic death."
"So the Demon General is dead too," the girl murmured, as if some strange thought crossed her mind. "How interesting."
"Don't speak of this to anyone," the madam warned. "We could get into trouble."
"My lips are sealed," the girl promised.
The madam left, the door closing softly behind her. The room fell into half‑darkness, lit only by a single flickering candle on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the walls.
Moments later, new footsteps approached. A hooded woman slipped inside, silent as if she had stepped out of the darkness itself. She closed the door carefully behind her, then walked slowly toward the naked courtesan waiting on the bed.
The air around her suddenly turned cold.
From beneath the hood, a single icy blue demonic eye glowed — cold, merciless, and hungry. The woman's bloodlust surged so violently she could no longer restrain the Ice Demon living within her.
It was Anita.
The female Wolf Knight.
The Demon Hunter.
The woman whose sword had tasted the blood of countless demons.
The Succubus — who moments earlier had been smiling seductively — now tensed, as if her instincts screamed that something was terribly wrong.
Anita drew her sword slowly, threateningly.
"My blade has never itched this much," she hissed. "I can't wait to drive it into you."
The Succubus's eyes widened.
"Those eyes… you're a demon. But not a fire demon. Who are you? Did you come for information?"
Anita didn't answer. The blade slid free with a cold metallic ring.
The demon raised her hands nervously.
"Wait! The password! The fire burns because—"
"What fire?" Anita cut her off. "I am ice."
The Succubus's face drained of color. Now she was certain: something was very, very wrong. There were no Ice Demons on the Demon Island. So who was this woman?
"You're not from the Demon Island…" she whispered.
"No, I'm not," Anita replied coldly.
"You want information?" the demon gasped. "The human king is dead. Wildfire is dead too."
"I know," Anita said. "I was there."
The demon tried to bargain desperately.
"You ice demons hate fire demons, don't you? But I serve the Succubus Princess, Quelenna. Let's form an alliance! You won't regret it!"
A slow, bloodthirsty smile curved Anita's lips.
"I can't hold myself back any longer… I wonder how many points I'll get for your head."
The room grew even colder, as if the walls themselves froze in anticipation of the slaughter to come.
Anita drew the Demon Hunter Sword in a single, fluid motion. The blade sliced through the brothel's dim light with a cold metallic ring, and she would have struck immediately if the succubus hadn't reacted with lightning speed. The demon's arms elongated, her skin cracking as ten long, black claw‑blades burst forth, meeting Anita's sword with a shower of sparks.
The room instantly turned into a battlefield.
Curtains tore from their rods as if ripped down by invisible hands. Pillow feathers exploded into the air, drifting around them like a grotesque snowfall. Candles toppled over — some flames died, others flared wildly in the draft.
Even the neighboring rooms heard the commotion, but no one suspected a thing. The guests simply smirked at the wall:
"Someone's really enjoying themselves in there."
The succubus attacked with her full strength. Her claws lashed out like ten whips, each strike carving sharp black arcs through the air. Anita stepped back, then surged forward again, the Demon Hunter Sword flashing with cold light at every movement. The blade struck the demon's claws with such force that the walls themselves seemed to tremble.
The demon screamed when one of her claw‑blades snapped. The black shard hit the floor and crumbled to dust. Anita didn't give her a moment to recover — another strike, and another claw shattered, then another. The succubus staggered backward, growing more desperate with each step, while the icy, bloodthirsty glow of the Ice Demon burned in Anita's eyes.
Finally, the demon took a deep, vicious slash to her right side. Frost instantly formed around the wound, as if the cold were freezing her from the inside out.
"No… no!" the demon gasped, panic rising in her voice. "This can't be happening!"
She understood now — she was at a disadvantage. The Demon Hunter Sword had devoured not only fire demon souls, but the soul of a clan leader as well. All that power now surged through Anita's hands.
The succubus tried to flee. With a single desperate leap, she hurled herself toward the window, claws digging into the frame as she attempted to escape into the night.
But she didn't get far.
Before she could cross the threshold, a fireball slammed into her face. The explosion hurled her backward, her body spinning through the air before crashing straight toward Anita.
The female Wolf Knight didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and drove her sword forward with all her strength.
The blade pierced the demon's back and burst out through her chest, leaving glowing, ice‑blue cracks spreading across her skin. Anita leaned in, pushing the sword deeper. The demon gurgled — then went limp.
Even if the stab hadn't been fatal, the sword's ice element ensured the rest: the succubus's internal organs froze solid in an instant, as if turned to glass.
A moment later, a figure appeared in the window — Fireburp, the dragon girl. The wind tossed her red hair, and her eyes flashed with irritation.
"Weren't we supposed to capture the succubus alive?" she asked, arms crossed.
Anita shrugged, as if it were a minor inconvenience.
"Oops. My sword wanted to stab her so badly I completely forgot."
"Oh, please!" Fireburp snorted. "Your bloodlust could be felt from across the street."
Anita glanced down at the corpse, then nodded with satisfaction.
"Oh look, I got three points for the succubus's head. Nice."
Fireburp waved a hand dismissively.
"Whatever. Wrap her in the blanket and get the body out the window. Hurry. We need to disappear before the city guard notices anything."
"If you want speed, then come help," Anita grumbled. "Did you bring rope?"
"It's on the wagon outside. I'll grab it. You wrap the demon in the blanket."
Anita worked quickly, her movements practiced and efficient. Thanks to the Ice Demon's power, the body was already half‑frozen, making it easier to handle. Fireburp returned with the rope, and together they tied the bundle securely before easing it out the window.
Below, Lazuro — the adventurer — was already waiting on a wagon pulled by a black horse. He simply nodded as the blanket‑wrapped corpse landed in the back.
The three‑person team slipped away into the night without a sound. No one noticed them — the two city guards assigned to patrol the area were currently spending their shift in a nearby alley, thoroughly distracted by Bunny and Cica, the two beast‑girls who ensured the "glorious" guards had no attention left for anything else.
In the southern slums of the city, around the Ironclaw Inn, the night had long since fallen silent. Only the cold dawn wind wandered through the cobblestone streets, and from time to time a stray dog shuffled across the half‑lit alleys. But behind the inn, in the narrow back alley, movement stirred: the demon‑hunting team's wagon slowly rolled into the rear courtyard.
Bloki, the dog beastman, was already waiting for them. Even in the dim light, his drooping ears and ever‑alert eyes were unmistakable. As soon as he spotted the group, he grinned broadly and swung open the back door.
Anita and Lazuro lifted the blanket‑wrapped, rope‑tied bundle off the wagon together. The succubus's corpse was still frozen stiff from the Ice Demon's power, the body moving with the weight and rigidity of a solid block of ice.
Inside the inn, everything was dark except for a few flickering lanterns along the walls. The guests had long gone home; the Ironclaw Inn was closed at this hour — at least to the outside world. Through the back entrance, however, the team slipped in silently and carried their prize down to the cellar.
The succubus who had been spying in the capital was dead.
The mission was complete.
It was time for a well‑earned late‑night drink.
When they came back up from the cellar, Bella, the innkeeper, was already waiting for them. She stood behind the counter with two mugs of beer in hand, greeting them with a tired but satisfied smile.
"Everything go well?" she asked, setting the mugs on the table.
Anita dropped into a chair with a long sigh.
"Yeah. Aside from the fact that I may have redecorated the demon's room at the Honeyed Pear with my sword."
Bella raised an eyebrow.
"No one will be using that room for a while, that's for sure."
Lazuro waved dismissively.
"Oh, please. They'll fix it up in a few days and put a new girl in there."
"Preferably one who isn't a succubus," Bella added dryly.
Anita took a sip of her beer, then clicked her tongue in approval.
"Now this is actually a good beer. Where's it from?"
"Bought five barrels from a nearby village at a friendly price," Bella replied. "I've got mead too. Should I give some to Fireburp?"
Anita's head snapped up.
"Better not. Unless you want her to set something on fire."
Bella laughed.
"I've still got some apple cake left from lunch. Want some?"
"Bring it!" Fireburp chimed in from where she'd been leaning against the counter, listening. "If I hadn't smacked that demon in the face with a fireball, she would've escaped through the window."
"You actually earned your food this time," Anita remarked.
"Hey!" Fireburp protested. "Young Wolf said mascots get free food!"
Lazuro blinked in confusion.
"What's a mascot?"
"No idea," Anita shrugged. "Maybe a freeloading little girl?"
"I'm a dragon!" Fireburp puffed up indignantly.
"Then a freeloading dragon," Anita corrected calmly.
Lazuro laughed.
"This is not how I imagined dragons. With all the terrifying legends about them…"
"Well," Anita said, "she's still just a hatchling."
The man nodded, then his expression turned more serious.
"Thank you for coming to hunt that demon. I heard what a brutal massacre happened at the Royal Hunt."
Anita's face hardened.
"Yeah. One of my childhood friends died there. May every demon rot wherever they stand."
Bella leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"Speaking of demons rotting… there's a rumor about another one."
Anita lifted her mug.
"Then tell us. And pour me another while you're at it."