Demon King City: The Vacant Throne and the Seven False Kings

He knew all too well the terror of Demon King Nilgala.

The human farm where he had worked was destroyed and burned to the ground with the village where he had lived. It wasn’t until everything was over that he realized he had lost both his job and his home.

With no other options, the werewolf Kadar Donwick headed to the city in search of work.

There was no other path for him. He knew he was no longer living in a time when a business like a human farm could succeed, especially with Demon King Nilgala, who promoted harmony between humans and demons, actively eliminating strongholds of resistance, like the village where Kadar had lived.

Demon King Nilgala was also known as the Absolute Demon King, the most fearsome and ruthless ruler in history. All demons had to choose between submission or death.

Naturally, Kadar chose to submit.

I was getting sick of my shady business, which was pretty much like slave trafficking anyway.

About seven or eight years before, he had headed for the city built by the Demon King. Nilga Tide, or Demon King City, stood as a special zone where humans and demons coexisted, symbolizing the end of the long battle between the two races and the beginning of peace.

To Kadar, it had seemed the city was brimming with opportunities for glory.

I'll definitely make it happen. I'm going to become someone important.

Starting from the bottom was fine with Kadar. Locally, he was somewhat of a known figure, working as a bodyguard at a human farm. As a werewolf, blessed with remarkable strength and undefeated in magical combat, Kadar was confident he could climb the ranks in Demon King City.

Looking back, he couldn't help but despise his own naivety.

What a fool I've been.

There he was, in an alley of Demon King City, slammed violently up against a wall. Kadar had hit it so hard that he was practically embedded in it, having shattered the wall upon impact.

I'm going to die.

Amidst the shock, Kadar was painfully aware of his predicament. His entire body ached with a dull pain, his bones broken. Even the regenerative powers of his werewolf magic were unable to heal him further, as his internal magical energy was severely depleted.

Why was this happening to him? The answer was painfully obvious. He was weak. There were others far more powerful than him. And above all, he had betrayed his organization.

Hey, there's something I don't understand. Enlighten me, Kadar . . .

His voice was heavy with melancholy. A man in a white suit, a demon, looked down at him. A small red horn on the right side of his forehead marked him as a vampire. Kadar recognized him as Heriniro, his superior and mentor within the organization.

Why did you act so recklessly? I thought you had more sense.

Whispering the question, Heriniro took a step closer, then another, because he knew that slow steps would cause fear.

Why did you try to let the merchandise escape? Why betray me? Do you despise me that much? Do you know how much pressure I face from above? And furthermore . . .

Mid-sentence, Heriniro snapped his fingers.

Didn't you think about the consequences?

As he spoke, Kadar felt a sharp pain in his thigh. Something had pierced him. A scream burst from his throat as the pain overwhelmed him.

Agh!

It was magic. Any demon could recognize the sensation of magical energy distorting the world. Heriniro had cast some sort of spell. In that moment, that was all Kadar could understand. Instinctively grabbing his throbbing leg, he saw a crystalline object protruding from his thigh, shaped like a red arrow.

This was a Non-Autonomous Offensive Curse Bot—a piece of common magic. Yet, generating it with such speed, and while speaking, was proof of Heriniro's extensive combat experience.

Not 'agh', Kadar . . . That doesn't answer my question, does it?

Heriniro peered into Kadar's face with a gloomy look in his eyes.

Don't think you'll get off with just being thrown into the labyrinth. You're prepared for that, right?

The labyrinth he mentioned was the fortress of Demon King Nilgala, sprawling beneath this City.

It was so vast that no one had a complete understanding of it, especially now that the ruler was absent. Being forced to search for treasure in the labyrinth and bring it back was known as being sent to the labyrinth or descending into the labyrinth.

Those who plunged into the labyrinth were commonly called explorers. As far as punishments for demons went, it was one of the most severe, just short of death.

Speak up. You were prepared for all of this, right? How could you disgrace me like this? Was it a mistake to look after a fool like you?

That's not . . .

He instinctively began to apologize, but he clenched his jaw, his fangs fully grown, managing to hold back his words.

That's not it . . . The mistake is yours, isn't it . . . brother . . .

Oh?

Human trafficking is against the law. In this Demon King City, treating humans as merchandise is . . .

Kadar avoided Heriniro's gaze as he spoke.

It's something the Demon King himself wouldn't permit . . . There's a law that says not to harm civilians, isn't there?

The merchandise Heriniro had referred to were humans, used for organ or blood trafficking.

It's not right, brother. Selling off a drugged human child to settle a debt . . . hehe. That's just plain wrong. If the Demon King were to return, you would be in trouble . . .

As he laughed brazenly, he suddenly felt a sharp blow to his stomach. It wasn't a spell, just a straightforward kick.

The Demon King isn't coming back.

Heriniro laughed scornfully, his words quick and mocking.

He's been gone for five years. What honor are you talking about? Do you think honor pays the bills? Huh?

Kadar couldn't respond. The Demon King was indeed gone. He had established this zone of coexistence with humans, Demon King City, and then vanished five years ago. Rumors even circulated that he was dead.

I thought you were smarter, but clearly, I was mistaken . . .

His voice became even colder.

This is your fault, Kadar.

What?

The human child you tried to help escape. He was killed because of you.

There was a tone of superiority in his voice. Kadar opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words.

I understand that the living fetch a higher price. But sometimes, making an example is necessary.

Heriniro's voice carried a note of pride in his ruthless actions.

It's not like there aren't buyers for corpses. I managed to sell it to the undead. It was just a kid's corpse, so I was severely lowballed on the price. Had I sold it to alchemists, I might've gotten even more—

He didn't listen to the rest, nor did he need to.

Gathering his remaining strength, Kadar quickly cast a healing spell. His injuries began to heal almost instantly, with the pain in his thighs diminishing thanks to the Virtual Spirit Medicine Protocol. The pain numbed, and his wounds rapidly healed. He was able to move again.

And then, he lunged at Heriniro.

Aargh!

His target was the neck. He aimed to seize it and rip it off—there was no other way. His fangs and claws were coated with a matrix of armor-binding magic. This spell, which Kadar had mastered, could tear apart an iron plate.

You underestimated me. You got too close, Heriniro . . . !

At this distance, there was no way Heriniro could match the explosive power of a werewolf.

Grabbing Heriniro's shoulder, he sank his fangs into his neck—it was surprisingly easy. But the next moment, Kadar didn't taste Heriniro's blood.

Severe pain.

What a pathetic misunderstanding. I'm sick of dealing with your kind.

He felt his mouth filling with blood. His supposedly reinforced fangs were shattered.

Then, the impact came. He had been hit somewhere—his head? Before he realized it, he found himself lying on the ground, looking up at Heriniro like a defeated corpse.

Did you think you could make a name for yourself in this city with just your local brawling reputation?

Heriniro tilted his head.

Blood dripped from his neck, solidified in mid-air, and morphed into something resembling a stem with thorns. It was likely a type of Offensive Boundary Filter, a defensive spell unique to his kind.

Vampires could generate spells inside their blood. Kadar knew this, yet he hadn't anticipated that it could shatter his fangs and claws, nor had he imagined the vast gap in their magical energy. In the world of demons, the strength of one's magic was directly proportional to one's rank.

You're not going to survive. But before that . . .

Heriniro's fingers caught Kadar's ear. His wolf ear.

You should return the favor you owe, an ear for an ear.

Kadar heard the sound, not with his eardrums but with his brain, or so he thought. He realized he was screaming with enough force to make his lungs rattle. His ear had been brutally torn off.

Oh, nice scream. You understand well how to pay your dues in Demon King City, don't you?

Heriniro tossed the ear away.

I have to show what happens to those who defy me. Shout out loud enough for the main street to hear. Should I go for your claws next? Those ridiculous ones that ripped my suit—

Suddenly, Heriniro's words were cut off. Something wasn't right. Kadar turned his head. Heriniro was looking to the side. Was there someone in the alley leading to the main street?

A stooped man. Wearing a gray coat, walking very slowly.

Heading towards them.

Stop right there. Who are you?

It felt like the wind blew. The clouds moved, and the moonlight illuminated the man's face.

Hey . . . don't tell me you're a human, are you?

There was a note of contempt in Heriniro's voice. It was easy to tell humans and demons apart. Demons had horns somewhere on their bodies—those without were humans. There were even discriminatory terms like hornless monkeys.

Because they had horns, they could use magical energy to cast spells. Without them, they were no different from mere wild beasts that could speak. That was the demon's understanding.

Disappear now, human, or I'll kill you.

Well . . . I've been listening, and you know, it's not good to lie.

The man in the gray coat replied.

You said he could scream all he wants, but your men have been blocking the main street. They're there to warn you if someone dangerous approaches, right?

His voice was somehow sleepy, as if he was yawning while talking.

So, you're just a big talker who's actually too scared to let anyone on the main street hear.

Who the hell are you?

Heriniro was clearly irritated, which was understandable. Kadar could see why.

In Demon King City, being disrespected was a fatal flaw. If insulted, one had to clear that shame. Otherwise, they would be the ones getting squeezed. That was the norm among demons.

Humans poking their noses where they don't belong. Are you a knight or something?

That's right. I'm a knight, for what it's worth.

Such a position existed in Demon Lord City, part of the human side's organization for maintaining order. A button engraved with the organization's emblem, a lion with three stars, adorned the collar of his gray coat.

Nilga Tide Dispatch Knights Bureau, Section 4, Acting Chief. Just so you know . . .

Don't care, it's all a hassle. If you're just patrolling, then scram already.

Heriniro made a shooing gesture as if swatting away an insect.

You probably don’t even have an execution order. Listen, I'm from the Scarlet. Rank seventeen, Heriniro Gusupasu. Make a move and you'll be in a world of trouble—

There you go again . . . using your organization's name as a scare tactic.

You—

If I wanted to avoid trouble, I wouldn't be here. This alley—your men were watching it. All six of them.

You . . . the guys outside . . .

It seemed Heriniro finally began to question something he should have asked at the beginning.

What did you do to them?

Let's just say they had an accident. Or would you rather they were taken out by a random mugger . . .

Was this man serious? Kadar saw the man before him as an ungraspable monster. Heriniro's complexion shifted, the horns on his forehead gleamed, and blood dripped from his fingertips.

You trying to start a fight with us—the Scarlet? Have you lost your mind?

Hmm . . . I wonder . . . what do you think?

With a cryptic smile, the man in gray pulled something from inside his coat.

It seemed to be nothing more than a disk the size of a palm; primitive-looking with a hole in the middle, reminiscent of an ancient throwing weapon from the east.

A spirit weapon? No way! It's one of those tiny self-defense items . . . !

Kadar recognized the item.

A spirit weapon. Utilized by humans. It encapsulated liquefied spirits to mimic magic through calculation. A tool for those without horns.

Don't you dare underestimate me, you hornless monkey!

I'm not underestimating you. I've seen your work, Heriniro Gusupasu. Your specialty seems to be Non-Autonomous Offensive Curse Bots.

As Heriniro snapped his fingers, the man in gray tossed the disk.

It seemed like a careless throw, yet the disk sliced through the air, vibrating as it traveled. If processed by spirit creatures, it emitted a dry, cracking sound—a phenomenon caused by the spiritual discharge.

This is hopeless.

Kadar was overcome by despair.

Spirit weapons created by humans generally could not surpass demon magic. The magical energy density between humans and demons was vastly different. In a one-on-one, demons almost always won.

Die.

As he snapped his fingers, blood gushed from Heriniro's wrist, frothing in the air and morphing into countless arrows. Simultaneously, some of the blood formed a protective shield around him. A dual computation of a Curse Bot and a Boundary Filter.

The weak magic of humans couldn't stop a Curse Bot or penetrate the Boundary Filter. The man in gray would be pierced like a pin-cushion and die. Confident in this outcome, Kadar frowned, and Heriniro smiled—but while still smiling, Heriniro collapsed to his knees.

Gah, kuh—

Heriniro made a strange noise. His side was split open, blood pouring out.

What had happened? All Kadar had seen was countless red arrowheads in the air shattering instantly. Not only that, but the shield was broken, and Heriniro was struck down.

But how?

Ah, agh!

Heriniro screamed as he tried to hold his abdomen.

Gah! Giiiiiiiiii!

Blood continued to flow from his stomach. It transformed into something resembling thorns before explosively expanding. Countless thorny blades tore through Heriniro's own flesh and innards.

Such a heart-wrenching scream. It's painful to hear . . . But isn't this what you advocated for? The way disputes are resolved in Demon King City, your way of doing things . . .

There might have been some truth to his words. The man in gray cast a somewhat compassionate look downward.

If you're attempting to use magic to heal, you might want to rethink that. It won't be effective, and it'll only amplify your suffering.

The disk made its way back into the hand of the man in gray. It fluttered like a small bird or a butterfly.

Had the man in gray employed an Autonomous Curse Tracker, a kind of magic known as a familiar spirit?

Was there truly a way to annihilate demon-spawned magic? And Heriniro's wound that refused to heal—what was going on with that?

You . . . ?!

Heriniro tried to retaliate. With trembling fingers, he scooped up his own flowing blood to cast a spell. This time, it took the form of a spear. He gripped it and flung it at the man in gray—only to be struck in the face just before it could land a hit.

A nail shot by the man in gray shattered Heriniro's nose and slammed the back of his head into the wall behind him.

Gah—

A choked off cry. Heriniro's eyes rolled back in his head.

My apologies, Heriniro.

The man in gray again shot the disk from his hand with a flick of his wrist, at a speed too quick to follow.

As the sound of an electrical discharge filled the air, Heriniro's head, along with his horns, shattered. He emitted a faint groan as he collapsed. Blood splattered across the floor.

Then there was silence. The only thing visible was the man in gray's exhaled white breaths.

He then turned to face Kadar.

Now, on to you.

Approaching, Kadar heard the sound of footsteps squelching in a pool of blood.

What will you do? You're badly injured, but do you want to be saved?

It's hopeless. I've no magical energy left for healing . . .

That's quite bad. But what if there was a way?

The man in gray bent down, peering into Kadar's face. His expression was sleepy and, somehow, disinterested.

What'll it be? If you truly want to be saved, I can help.

What is he on about?

Kadar felt anger rising within him.

It's impossible . . . Who are you, some kind of doctor?

No, but there's a way.

Are you serious . . . ? Can I really be saved . . .

Of course, I'm serious. If you promise me something in return.

A promise . . . What kind of promise? What if I . . . lied, broke that promise?

There would be no honor in that. Somehow, I don't think you'd do such a thing.

When he spoke of honor, his eyes weren't smiling at all. They were brutally cold and serious. Kadar felt he might have seen eyes like that before. No, it couldn't be. This man was human, nothing like His Majesty the Demon King. Or so he thought.

Make a promise, Kadar Donwick. In exchange for saving you, your life will be mine.

Who are you . . . ? What are you thinking? Doing something this reckless, are you insane?

Me? Well, to put it simply—

The man in gray laughed. It was a terribly ominous laugh.

I'm someone who will become a Demon King someday.

What is he on about?

The thought again flashed through Kadar's mind.

It felt like a dream.

A dream from childhood, from the days living in the alleys filled with the smell of mold, mud, and blood. The crumbling streets of Coffin Alley. Back then, death from hunger was a constant threat. Not many good memories.

To think back on such times.

I was completely asleep. Deep sleep.

Kido Marlow pressed his brow and yawned. His rust-colored scarf was coming undone. All of this was due to the lack of sleep these past few days—and this strange vehicle's effect.

A landship, huh?

A human invention that became practical just about half a year ago. Perhaps it could be described as a small ship that sailed on land without sails, more like a carriage without horses and wheels. The landship's engine compartment housed purified liquid spirit, allowing it to glide across the surface.

Kido thought it a peaceful era's vessel.

It was only because humans and demons had signed a peace treaty that such a ship could be built. It could even be said to be a technology born from the exchange between humans and demons. Not many individuals owned one yet, and this landship in particular, was owned by the Dispatch Knights Bureau for patrolling the city. But mass production might not have been too far off in the future.

To Kido, the ride in this landship was too comfortable. There was hardly any vibration in the rear seat, which was why he ended up falling asleep.

Uh, Sir . . . Sir Kido?

A voice could be heard, gradually forcing Kido into consciousness as the noise of his surroundings hit his ears.

Sir! We've arrived!

The voice came from the driver's seat.

Hey, come on, seriously. Please wake up.

At that moment, Kido finally opened his eyes to see a young man looking back at him. Red hair, dressed in a flashy, studded jacket. His nickname was Bucket.

Technically, Bucket was once a proper member of Section 4 of the Dispatch Knights Bureau until repeated mistakes and poor conduct led to his demotion, eventually earning him such a nickname.

Can you hear me, sir?

I can hear you. Please, lower your voice a bit, Bucket . . .

Kido yawned again, leaned back, and readjusted his rust-colored scarf.

By the way . . . are we there yet?

What do you mean? We've been here for a while! I've been trying to wake you up forever.

Listening to the noisy man's voice, Kido looked outside the window.

A giant, metallic train station stood in front of the vehicle—the central station of Demon King City, Nilga Tide.

The building was majestic, centered around a pitch-black tower, resembling a fortress with extra fortifications, once the palace of Demon King Nilgala. It was the most robust structure in the chaotic city, safeguarded by the Demon King's magic, befitting its role as the central station.

Trains from both human and demon territories arrived at this station via the continental transverse railway. Even then, a ten-carriage armored train squeezed its massive body into the station, occasionally causing sharp discharges to crackle through the air and mechanical sounds to reverberate against the station's walls.

Kido nodded.

The train is still at the station. I thought we were late . . . but it looks like we're right on time?

No way! We're running over thirty minutes late!

Really, that much?

Glancing at the station's large clock confirmed it. Indeed, it was well past the appointed time of noon—the sun was already high in the sky. Even through the thick clouds covering the demon city, the sunlight was unmistakable.

Oh . . . we're this late . . . Bucket, did we get lost again?

Not a chance! We left the Bureau late to begin with, plus you wouldn't wake up at all!

I couldn't help it, I was sleepy. Haven't really slept since yesterday . . .

That's because you were skipping patrols to go out at night again! I know you, you were at the gambling dens again, weren't you? Next time, take me with you!

That's impossible. You're always broke, Bucket. You spend your salary as soon as you get it.

Ah, well, I ended up hanging out in shops with girls . . . Demon King City is full of cute demon girls, it's such a fresh experience . . . so, how about lending me some money, sir?

Absolutely not. There's no way you can pay me back, Bucket.

That's not true! I just need to land a big catch, right? Like catching a pickpocket or a mugger lurking around, beating them up, and getting a letter of appreciation or something!

If you did that, you'd end up with a pay cut instead of a letter of appreciation . . .

His propensity for violence was one of the reasons he got demoted to the rank of Bucket. His impudence played a part too. Being his senior, Kido was held responsible as well, but he wasn't really in a position to lecture him from a moral high ground.

But please, be sharp today, sir. If you mess up, we'll all get dragged down with you! Especially with the Regular Magic Knight from headquarters coming today—a big-shot elite.

Ah . . . a knight from headquarters, huh?

When Kido and his colleagues mentioned headquarters, they were referring to the Immortal Workshop, a judicial institution.

The Immortal Workshop, a part of the Human Federation's Judicial Department, was named for its role in crafting the Sacred Sword that cornered the Demon King. Though Kido was part of the Dispatch Knights Bureau, a lower-tier staff, he was still a member of that organization.

Therefore, the Regular Magic Knights sent directly from there were true knights, holding ranks much higher than dispatch knights like Kido. Their involvement was linked to a significant recent event in Demon King City—the Regicide Incident.

What was the name of the Regular Magic Knight again?

How can you not remember? It's Taidius—Alsalisa Taidius. You know, the daughter of the Hero, Taidius! She epitomizes a sheltered young lady!

Ah, right, right. No worries. It just slipped my mind for a moment . . .

As he responded sleepily, Kido leaned back comfortably into his seat.

Even though Kido had mentioned it in that way to Bucket, it was clear he hadn't forgotten.

The Hero who had ended the war between humans and demons was Vinkriff Taidius. Ten years previously, he had cut through the demon forces with his Sacred Sword and, after the final battle with the Demon King, he successfully negotiated a peace treaty. Though he had since passed away, his achievements remained legendary.

The arrival of a Regular Magic Knight, claiming descent from him, was enough to make even Kido cautious. How deep was the suspicion within the Imperial Immortal Workshop? Were they really sent just for the investigation of the so-called Regicide Incident?

Kido hoped they weren't here to delve into a secret he couldn’t share with anyone.

But why are we the ones to welcome someone from headquarters? Hey, Bucket, have you heard anything?

Well, it's simply because everyone else is busy. With the major incident, both the first and second knight divisions are operating at full capacity, and the third is covering their daily duties. We're the only ones available! Isn't that terrible?

Feels like we're being subtly told we're not part of the main force.

It's not exactly subtle . . .

Bucket looked incredulous, to which Kido responded with a big yawn.

Well, whatever. Let's go pick up that super elite investigator.

Actually, there seems to be a bit of trouble. The train has made an emergency stop.

This city belonged to the Demon King. Trouble was never far away. Emergency train stoppages would occur once every three days. Yet, of all the days for it to happen, it had to be today.

Looks like there's a riot brewing too. Maybe because the train's stopped? Demons will use any excuse to start a fight . . . it's frightening . . .

Indeed, around the station, demons were glaring at each other, some already resorting to magic in their disputes. It was bound to happen. Each one was trying to weaken their rivals, even if only slightly.

In such times, it was the humans caught in the middle of demon conflicts who suffered the most.

Any casualties?

Most of the humans have managed to evacuate, but four or five weren't so lucky. All we can do is pray for their souls.

The bodies haven't been collected by undeads, have they?

You can see the remains over there. No one has bothered to pick them up.

Let's leave them then.

Kido spoke without a trace of emotion. The overwhelming power of demons over humans. The humans living in this city had come to terms with this reality and still chose to coexist in this special district alongside demons.

Joint technical advancements and the resulting prosperity, treasures from the labyrinth below that made even a gold mine look insignificant. Opportunities for success that could never be found outside the city were abundant here. That's why, despite the dangers, humans still chose to migrate here.

This is a hassle. We came all this way for nothing.

Kido gave a wry smile.

It's been trouble from the start . . . Where could the investigator be? We need to find them before they get caught up in this mess.

The moment Kido looked out the window of the landship, it happened.

Huh?

He was caught off guard, his mouth agape.

First, there was a flash of light. Silver light streaked across the sky above the station, followed by the bursting sound of spirit weapons.

What was that just now?

Bucket leaned out from the driver's seat, trying to see outside the window.

But Kido didn’t need to look to know. This was evidence of humans using spirit weapons. Demons would use magic directly, without relying on tools. Spirit weapons were employed by humans, who innately couldn't produce magic.

This feels bad.

Kido muttered under his breath.

The air whirled, followed by a rumbling sound. This phenomenon wasn't caused by spirit weapons. A slight headache-like discomfort allowed Kido to discern this was a magical calculation by demons. What the series of events meant was simple. For some reason, humans and demons were fighting.

In the central entrance of the station, shadows faced off against each other. But there was no time to observe carefully. One could feel the tremor of battle already.

Ah. This is bad.

Something was moving underground, creeping like a giant snake, causing the ground to crack open. The damage reaching their location was inevitable and the erosion by magic power was spreading fast.

Kido opened the door of the landship. A strong wind blew, making his rusty-red scarf flutter dramatically.

Bucket, we need to get out of here. Let's go, quickly!

Eh? Oh no, ah!

Suddenly, there was an impact. The sounds of destruction and screams filled the air.

The moment Kido leaped from the landship, he saw it being ensnared by something that resembled a giant snake. It was crushed, and he saw Bucket, unable to escape, fatally injured. His neck was broken, and his upper body flattened.

Furthermore, the landship burst into flames. The power tank, filled with artificial spirits, exploded with great force. I see, Kido thought. This was the chaos that ensued when the artificial spirits in landships went out of control. It might be time to rethink their reputation as safe modes of transportation.

If Kido had been just a moment later, he would have been caught in that explosion. A shiver ran down his spine.

Bucket, I will remember your sacrifice. I'll make sure the cost of repairs is included in the equipment damage report . . .

It was tragic that Bucket hadn't made it out in time, but for him, it was just the way things were.

That magic just now . . . Semi-autonomous, Offensive Material Morphing.

The ship was obliterated by a swelling of earth that took the form of a serpent. It emerged from the ground, breaking the surface, and destroying anything it came into contact with on command. Given its magnitude, this was clearly the work of a demon wielding powerful magic—and a desperate one at that.

No choice, I've got to get moving.

The situation was disheartening, especially since Kido had a hunch about who was responsible. It was a human capable of wielding a spirit weapon—someone with enough power to incite a demon's wrath.

In other words, the Regular Magic Knight he was supposed to meet must have gotten herself into some troublesome situation.

◆

What Kido saw as he rushed towards the station was an even more disheartening sight.

Freeze. Don't move!

A sharp voice echoed.

A young woman—almost a girl—was holding a sword casually in one hand.

It was a spirit weapon. Nowadays, it could be said that all of humanity's weapons had been replaced by spirit weapons. The one she was holding was probably the latest model from Cav & Kaim Co., judging by the blue-white glow of the blade and the emblem of a double-headed ostrich engraved on it.

That's far enough. Put your hands on your head. Don't even think about using magic.

She warned as she slowly descended the station stairs.

The woman had an unusually sharp gaze. Aside from that, she fit the description of a sheltered lady to a tee, as Bucket had said. Her blue uniform seemed out of place, but her silver hair and golden eyes clearly signified the bloodline of the Hero Taidius, who had ended the demon war.

Kido knew her from photos. She was exactly the person he had come to meet.

I am Alsalisa Taidius, a Regular Magic Knight of the Immortal Workshop.

She introduced herself politely, clearly not to Kido, but to the individual at the bottom of the stairs.

She stopped a few steps short, sword at the ready, pointing its tip at the man.

I have the authority to intervene in criminal acts against humans in this city. Don't make this harder than it has to be.

Her tone was firm, yet the reply was simpler than expected.

What are you even talking about, huh? Don't be so arrogant, you hornless monkey!

A man's voice boomed like an earthquake from the bottom of the stairs—a towering figure. Though his hooded cloak concealed most of his features, the bark-like skin of his face was partially visible.

So this is a treant demon?

This type of demon, with its plant-like body, was generally known for being peaceful. Yet, this one appeared quite agitated at the moment.

That's a prejudiced comment.

Alsalisa's expression remained unchanged. Though traces of youth lingered on her face, her composure was so impeccable it bordered on intimidating.

Mind your language. It could negatively affect your case in court.

What case?

The treant let out a roar, slamming his fist into the ground with enough force to crack it.

Why are you picking a fight with me? What did I supposedly do?

You don't know? You cut in line while getting off the train.

What . . . ?

Furthermore, you shoved an elderly woman aside in the process, causing her to fall. It's fortunate she wasn't hurt, but then you stole her wallet from her purse.

Alsalisa's gaze intensified.

Does that jog your memory? It was a wallet, a gift from her granddaughter, embroidered with the name Captain Posco.

Who's that?

Captain Posco is the mascot of Posco Company, a general goods retailer. It's shaped like a melting penguin. Does this ring any bells?

How should I know? I've already returned the wallet!

The treant snorted, clearly unrepentant.

Well, that figures.

Kido wasn't surprised at his answer.

It must be a demon's handiwork. Many of them didn't see stealing from humans as a crime. Even after the peace treaty between humans and demons, this belief persisted. The strong preying on the weak was considered normal among demons. However, they fiercely defended their own.

You should have returned what you stole in the first place.

Anger was evident in Alsalisa's voice.

You must pay for your crimes, and you might be involved in other offenses. That's why I've stopped the train to conduct an investigation. If you don't cooperate immediately, it could cause more disruptions in the transportation system, which I want to avoid.

What are you thinking?

Devin, the treant, was visibly taken aback.

Why go to such lengths?

Why? It's standard investigative procedure. We need to act quickly to uncover any additional crimes.

You're out of your mind . . .

The treant clicked his tongue, and Kido silently agreed.

No kidding . . . Something's definitely not right here.

Indeed, the knights' investigative protocol demanded the rapid pursuit of additional crimes. Mobile investigation officers, like Kido and the Dispatch Knights, as well as the Regular Magic Knights, had the authority and duty to do so.

But how many knights truly stuck to their principles? Especially here in Nilga Tide, a city rife with demons, where theft was just another part of daily life. Stopping a train for that, given the mountain of paperwork it would entail, didn't seem like something a rational knight would do.

That's all. I'd prefer it if you'd surrender without a fuss.

Like hell I'll let myself be caught by a kid like you.

I'm not a kid. I'm an adult!

Alsalisa puffed out her chest, trying to seem even a bit taller by lifting her heels slightly.

It's true. I have official identification and everything . . . Regardless of how I look, I'm legally an adult.

Her attempt to assert herself came off rather childishly. The treant seemed to find this amusing, chuckling under his breath.

A knight from the Immortal Workshop, huh? They must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel if they're sending out kids now.

There you go again . . . I am not a child! You've just made things a lot worse for yourself.

You just don't get it, do you, you damn kid?

The treant growled, his threat palpable in the air.

Think you can mess with me and not pay the price? I'm Devin of the Vert! Devin of the Hidden Leaf!

His arms and legs stretched out, with small buds forming at the tips—a distinctive trait of a treant, who used pollen to cast their magic.

This was an unmistakable sign that he was ready for combat.

The Vert hasn't been defeated yet. This is all just to raise funds. I'd do anything, from pickpocketing to burglary against humans. It's the only way to survive, trudging through the mire.

The treant, Devin of the Hidden Leaf, stood tall.

Stealing from old ladies isn't the most honorable act, I admit. But no matter how dishonorable, we take pride in humbly and steadily building our way up. That's the pride of the Vert.

This kind of justification is all too familiar around here . . .

Kido felt a headache starting to form.

The belief that there was value in living a dishonorable life was prevalent among demons from the countryside. Humans might have grasped this value system, but the way it manifested was overwhelmingly troubling.

Their concept of living dishonorably to survive included committing theft and violence against humans, whom they viewed as weak and fragile. They referred to this as steadily trudging through the mire. The Vert, in particular, regarded this as "humility," a virtue they held in high esteem.

That's why this city is beyond redemption.

The virtues once championed by Demon King Nilgala had been grotesquely twisted. The seven factions loudly proclaimed and embodied this distorted sense of morality.

The boss was killed, and the organization's in disarray. We lost our territory in the drug trade. But we haven't lost our pride!

I can't make sense of what you're saying. Your actions are criminal, and I'm here to uphold the law.

Alsalisa's approach was too inflexible. Kido felt his headache intensify.

This knight from the imperial capital, dispatched to maintain order, seemed oblivious to the city's complex situation and power dynamics. Under these conditions, Devin, a demon, saw only one way forward.

Underestimating demons could be a fatal mistake. Especially in Nilga Tide, the city of the Demon King.

I have both the right and the duty to act. I am a fully certified Regular Magic Knight of the Immortal Workshop—oh, wait.

Alsalisa pulled out what appeared to be a small pouch from her jacket pocket. It featured an embroidery of a penguin in a top hat making a comical face. It seemed to be some kind of mascot. She cleared her throat slightly and put it away.

Excuse me, I misspoke. Here's the correct one.

She held up a notebook instead, embellished with a crest that showed a lion looking up at the starry sky.

Under the treaty between humans and demons, I must ask you to surrender peacefully.

Don't you dare mock me!

As Devin yelled, the buds on his arms and legs bloomed, releasing pollen that filled the air and made the ground shake.

The cobblestone pavement cracked, and the earth heaved upward. Black tendrils snaked out, tearing apart the stairs as they moved towards Alsalisa from every direction. It was immediately obvious that this was the same magic that had demolished the landship Kido had been on earlier.

An Offensive Curse Bot—semi-autonomous and large-scale. Quite the nuisance, aren't they?

Or maybe, a military magic soldier. That someone capable of such feats was reduced to petty crimes was quite revealing.

Now I see why.

It was a consequence of a recent upheaval. The fall of the Vert had left many treant members without a group, causing them to roam without purpose.

That's why he's so defiant.

Nonetheless, Kido started running forward, fully aware that nothing good would come of this. The station's patrons also began to scream, initiating their evacuation. The residents of Demon King City were quick to recognize danger.

You've employed magic.

Alsalisa swung her blade straight down.

In accordance with the public order maintenance statutes, I will now execute your sentence. Quenjin!

A crackling, bursting sound followed, and there was a flash of light.

That was the activation sound of the spirit weapons. The liquid spirit sealed in the blade processed the designated magic. Unlike demonic magic, spirit weapons could only process one magic each and were weaker. But their accessibility to everyone was humanity's strength.

However, the spirit weapon used by Alsalisa was significantly different from any that Kido was familiar with.

It was swift and powerful. Chains of light emerged from the void, released, and scattered in all directions. The attacking black tendrils of earth were all caught by these chains, which stopped them completely just before reaching Alsalisa.

Naturally, Devin was no exception. Entangled in the glowing chains, he lay fallen, his arms restrained.

How dare you . . .

This is the end.

Alsalisa swung her blade horizontally. At that instant, the earthen tendrils tightened and the chains collapsed.

Seriously? That's amazing.

Kido couldn't help but be impressed.

It seemed to be a form of Sealing Protection Protocol. It activated upon contact with other magic or creatures, restraining them. Yet, it was released with speed and strength, easily overpowering a demon's Offensive Curse Bot. Was it due to the blood of a hero, or perhaps a special spirit weapon?

But in the current situation, this posed a problem.

I'm placing you under arrest. You can call a lawyer later.

Don't screw with me . . . damn it!

Devin's body trembled, rendered powerless. Indeed, he posed no threat on his own.

Do you think the Vert would be scared of a human knight?

I see, you're with the Vert. Perfect, start by telling me everything. Your name and address first, then show me your identification.

Don't act so high and mighty . . . !

Still lying on the ground, Devin seethed with anger. Buds began to form all over his body, likely preparing his next spell. Alsalisa raised her sword.

If you resist, I have no choice.

Her blade swung down, readying a more powerful and violent spell.

It was a close call.