The world did not wait.
By the time dawn broke, banners were already rising beyond the black plains surrounding the Demon King's Tower.
An army.
No—three armies.
Steel glittered under the sun. Holy symbols burned in the air. War drums echoed like heartbeats of fear. From the tower's balcony, the Demon King watched without expression.
"They came fast," the assistant said, standing beside him. "The Holy Empire. The Eastern Alliance. And mercenaries funded by the Merchant Guild."
Elowen leaned over the railing, eyes wide. "Wow… that's a lot of people. Do you think they're here for a festival?"
The assistant closed his eyes.
"They are here to kill us, Princess."
"Oh," she said. "That's rude."
---
Below, a line of priests stepped forward. Their voices echoed, amplified by magic.
"Demon King!" a cardinal shouted. "By decree of the gods, you are ordered to release the princess and surrender yourself for sealing!"
The Demon King didn't move.
The assistant looked at him. "My King?"
"Did they order me?" the Demon King asked.
"Yes."
"Then no."
He raised his hand.
The ground answered.
The first army never reached the tower.
The earth split open, swallowing thousands in seconds. Not violently. Cleanly. Like the ground simply decided they were no longer allowed to exist.
Screams lasted less than a breath.
Elowen covered her mouth. "…Oh."
The priests panicked.
"Activate the barriers!"
Holy light surged forward. Angels descended from the sky, wings blazing.
The Demon King stepped off the balcony.
He didn't fall.
The air hardened beneath his feet as he walked forward, descending slowly.
"Be careful!" Elowen called. "That one looks angry!"
An angel swung a blade of light.
The Demon King caught it with two fingers.
Crack.
The blade shattered.
He flicked his wrist.
The angel disappeared.
The sky went silent.
---
On the ground, commanders shouted desperate orders.
"Mages, fire!"
Spells rained down—fire, ice, lightning, divine punishment.
They stopped mid-air.
Then reversed direction.
The armies watched in horror as their own magic turned back on them.
Elowen frowned. "That's messy. Should I clean it?"
"No," the Demon King said.
The magic detonated.
Smoke covered the battlefield.
When it cleared, only one army remained—the Eastern Kingdom's royal guard.
At their center stood a young general, sword shaking in his hands.
"Princess Elowen!" he shouted. "Please! Come home!"
Elowen leaned forward. "Oh! That's Sir Calren. He taught me how to ride horses."
She waved.
The general's face filled with hope.
The Demon King looked at him.
"You came to take her?"
The general swallowed. "Y-Yes."
The Demon King nodded.
"Good."
The general blinked. "Good?"
"You walked all this way," the Demon King continued calmly. "You deserve to leave."
He snapped his fingers.
A path opened through the battlefield, untouched by destruction.
The general fell to his knees. "Thank you!"
Elowen smiled. "Tell everyone I'm okay! And that the tower has flowers now!"
The general ran.
The remaining armies broke.
They fled without looking back.
---
Back inside the tower, silence returned.
The assistant knelt immediately. "The world will not stop, My King."
"I know," the Demon King replied.
Elowen tugged his sleeve. "You didn't have to let them go."
"I didn't," he said. "I let one go."
She thought about that. "That's… scary."
"Yes."
She smiled anyway.
---
Far away, messengers spread the news.
The Demon King had returned.
The princess was with him.
The tower was alive.
And when the world knocked—
it was answered with refusal.