Chapter 109

Chapter 109: The Demon King's Castle (4)

The Demon King's daughter had been showered with expectations from the demon tribe since birth.

She was born carrying unprecedented, colossal mana. The entire demon race unanimously declared her the greatest talent in their history.

But that talent was limited to mana alone.

The heavens had given her boundless mana but not the vessel to hold it.

Born as a walking hospital with every ailment imaginable, the girl was as fragile as a human—let alone a demon. A body that weak couldn't possibly contain such immense mana.

As she aged, her mana grew—and the weaker her body became. Unlike the mana, her body couldn't keep pace.

Eventually, the thin glass cup began to crack under the weight of an ocean.

By all rights, it should have shattered long ago, but the Demon King had scoured every corner of the universe for remedies, allowing her to hold on.

Even so, none of it addressed the fundamental problem—just delayed the glass's breaking point.

The Demon King's daughter lived with every disease known and unknown, and everyone believed she suffered from some mysterious chronic condition.

A sickly princess, afflicted by an illness without name or cause.

The girl's crimson eyes captured me. Her look seemed to ask: who are you, and why have you followed the Demon King into my room?

The Demon King introduced me on her behalf.

"Persia, a doctor has come to help you. You'll feel better soon."

At her father's words, Persia beamed.

"Really? How wonderful. Doctor, can I truly be cured?"

"Of course."

"Oh, thank you so much."

Persia's innocent delight drew a warm smile from the Demon King.

Looking at that scene, who could call him a lord of terror? The Demon King before me was simply a father.

"I don't want to take any more of Father's busy time. I'll speak with the doctor alone."

"...Very well. Remember to activate the defense magic if anything happens."

"I will."

The Demon King looked reluctant to leave but eventually pulled himself away from Persia.

From an angle where Persia couldn't see, the paternal warmth vanished instantly—replaced by the same murderous expression I'd seen below. He whispered to me.

"If your words prove false, you will pay dearly. And should you have any improper ideas—abandon them now. The defense magic on Persia is beyond the likes of you."

"Rest assured. I will show improvement in your daughter."

"You had better."

The Demon King bid Persia one more farewell and left.

With just the two of us in the room, Persia let out a sigh.

"He's done something unnecessary again."

Her eyes changed.

The innocent princess from moments ago had vanished without a trace.

Where she'd sat primly on the bed in front of her father, Persia now kicked off the covers and sprawled out.

The mask of the sweet, gentle daughter was tossed aside, and she faced me with her bare personality.

WHOOSH—!

Hostility.

Persia radiated unmistakable hostility, her face twisted with deep revulsion.

Too weak to pose any real threat, but the animosity was clear.

"I've seen plenty of con-artist bastards like you. Father is usually sharp, but when it comes to me he becomes a fool—so he dragged you in without any real vetting. It'll mean nothing anyway, so stop wasting my time and get lost."

Alone with me, Persia spared nothing—crude language and verbal abuse flowed freely.

If the Demon King had heard this, his jaw would've hit the floor.

That was the truth.

The Demon King believed his daughter was a sweet, innocent girl—but this was her real personality.

The demon tribe as a species tended toward rough temperaments, so this wasn't abnormal.

Persia in particular, having grown up under the constant stress of her illness, had developed an especially twisted disposition.

But she wanted to show her father only her best side, so she wore the mask of a pure-hearted princess and acted the part.

Every vassal in the castle—save the Demon King—knew her true nature, but no one was foolish enough to mention it in front of him. And so the Demon King alone remained ignorant.

Persia sneered, declaring my failure a foregone conclusion.

"The greatest physicians from across the universe couldn't even identify my condition. You think you'll be any different?"

Since Persia had dropped formalities first, I matched her register.

"Yeah. I probably can't find it either. I'm not even a doctor."

"...Huh?"

Her effortless surrender left Persia blank-faced.

She'd never imagined anyone would back down without even examining her.

Persia's expression soured as she snapped.

"Are you messing with me? Then why did you come?! You told Father you could fix me!"

"I can't find a disease that doesn't exist."

"...What?"

Persia stared blankly and asked again.

I repeated the truth.

"You're not sick."

Persia stood frozen for roughly three seconds before bursting into derisive laughter.

Constant headaches, muscle pain so severe she couldn't leave bed from the slightest movement—telling someone like her she wasn't sick was beyond absurd.

She snorted dismissively.

She hadn't even considered the possibility that I was telling the truth. In her mind, I was either a lunatic or a fraud.

"Yep, great, heard you loud and clear. Now kindly get the hell out!"

Persia flashed a saccharine smile and began casting.

A simple activation of pre-prepared magic—a defense spell personally crafted by the Demon King.

Its function: to expel intruders.

In other words, she had zero intention of continuing this conversation.

"That's a problem."

"What's a problem is the minutes I wasted listening to your bullshit. Now scram."

Persia raised both middle fingers and waggled them cheerfully.

I hadn't expected her to shut me out without even hearing me, but without the insurance I'd prepared, I'd have been helplessly ejected.

"Go, Thanatos. Dispel."

When I issued a command—like something out of a certain monster-catching franchise—to the ghost hovering beside me, it grumbled.

【Tch. Stirring up needless trouble—what are you thinking? My available power is limited.】

"I planned for this. To earn trust, I need to demonstrate that kind of ability."

【Let me be clear—my power cannot cure her. Don't expect help with that.】

"Don't worry. I'll handle that myself. Oh—the other Evil Gods can't do it either?"

【Likely not. To improve her condition, you'd need to extract the soul and transfer it to a new body. But the massive mana in that body would trigger a defensive response. Suppressing the mana's rampage would require power greater than the mana itself—and the power available to us at this point is insufficient.】

Soul transfer—a method befitting transcendent beings, with a characteristically absurd scale.

In any case, the summary was that even Evil Gods couldn't cure Persia.

Perhaps later in the story, when they could wield more power, it'd be different—but in the late-game Demon King's Castle I remembered, the top floor no longer existed.

Meaning Persia's frail body had already reached its limit.

Of course, even if Persia had survived, whether the Evil Gods would've honored their promise was anyone's guess.

In the end, the Demon King had been magnificently swindled.

I couldn't fix Persia's body—but breaking through the Demon King's defense magic was possible.

CRACKLE—mana flashed in the air and fizzled out. As if the defense spell had never existed—a clean counter.

"Wh-what......?"

Persia flailed her arms wildly, but the dispelled magic wasn't coming back.

"Believe me now—at least that I'm not an ordinary person?"

"Destroying Father's magic... that's impossible......"

Persia's eyes rolled wildly. At minimum, she had to accept I wasn't ordinary.

After a pause, Persia slowly spoke.

"So... what did you mean, I'm not sick?"

"Exactly what I said. It's not a disease—it's your constitution."

"My constitution?"

"You have talent. Your innate mana probably exceeds even your father's."

"Hmm, is that so?"

The flattery perked her up—her shoulders lifted smugly.

"But while your mana is blessed, your body is practically cursed. Your frail body can't handle the immense mana."

"...Cursed is a bit harsh."

"It's the truth. Even a low-ranked demon would be sturdier than you."

Comparing her to low-ranked demons clearly stung, but since she couldn't argue, she held her tongue.

"...So what am I supposed to do?"

"Balance the equation. Either raise the body or lower the mana. Correct the imbalance between your body and mana, and your condition will improve."

Without a moment's hesitation, Persia answered.

"So if I exercise hard starting now, I'll get better?"

The option she chose: raise her physical capabilities to match.

An obvious choice.

The greatest talent in demon history—Persia's extraordinary power. Nobody would choose to throw that away.

Working to build the body was the natural path.

But Persia didn't have time.

Her body was already at its limit.

Before the game's late stages began, Persia's clock would run out.

Could she, in that short window, transform a body weaker than an F-rank Awakened into a vessel worthy of her colossal talent?

I didn't know.

Perhaps, if Persia was truly desperate—with enough effort, it was possible.

But in every playthrough, I'd chosen to lower Persia's mana instead.

The option to raise her physical capabilities had failed every time I'd tried. Every attempt ended with her body giving out, and her mana was stripped away to prevent catastrophe.

But now things were different.

I had far more options available this time around—and with those, it could be done.

Not easy, but absolutely worth the challenge.

Community discussions among players had strongly speculated that successfully growing Persia would make her recruitable as an NPC companion.

If Persia became an ally?

No contest. She'd be a Tier 0 NPC companion surpassing even Lee Yeeun.

With the game's late stages potentially arriving early, Persia's addition was all the more tempting.

Her peak might be lower than the Playable Characters', but being close to a complete build meant her growth speed would be far faster.

Raised properly, she could quickly become a linchpin capable of standing against most SSS-rank dungeons.

"Simple exercise alone won't cut it. We'll need more specialized methods."

As I outlined Persia's training regimen step by step, a peculiar light crept into her expression. A massive improvement from the distrust-filled initial reaction.

"...Really, truly—if I follow you, I can get better?"

"I stake my honor on it."

Thanatos, floating beside me, mocked that someone who'd ignored a mighty Evil God's honor and strong-armed a contract had no business invoking "human honor," but I blissfully ignored him.

I intended to keep this promise, which made my case fundamentally different from that black-hearted schemer's.

Finally, Persia nodded.

"Alright. I'll follow you."

Deal struck.

A supremely satisfying outcome.