A Demonic Covenant Reforged in the Ashes

Semi-Planar Prison

“Cough… cough cough…” When Ira awoke once more, he immediately began coughing, as if a burning pain—searing deep within his soul—had spread through his chest and throat. The spot along his back where he had activated the First Wing Pillar was suffering in the same way.

This was the price for forcefully using a Chancellor’s power, ignoring the depletion of his rune conduit—much like a spellcaster overdrawing their internal mana and succumbing to collapse.

“Cough cough… cough cough cough…” Amidst his continuous hacking, Ira glanced around at his dim surroundings. He found himself in a gloomy cell; steel bars and an overlying door separated the cell from the corridor beyond, with other cells lining the opposite side.

In his memory, he had completely expended his final Wing in a desperate bid—the kind of power that should have been enough to keep his pursuers at bay. With his last ounce of strength, he had plunged himself into a raging river. By all accounts, he should have drifted all the way to the elven kingdom.

But the prison around him signified that he had not truly escaped…

“Surely they didn’t really lock me up in a prison?”

“Izabella! You’re not planning to ride that tutor’s damned mount, are you?!”

Ira called out in exasperation. He had sensed the empire’s upheaval and had been preparing to make his escape, yet… had he really failed to get away? If a civil war were to break out next, he might win—but that would only mean a disastrous turn of events… He had no desire to be draped in a yellow robe.

“Lord Ira~ I’m entrusting my daughter to you henceforth! Train her into your little plush toy!”

He could still faintly recall the former king giving him that strange message—thumbs raised, baring his teeth in a grin akin to the old ad slogan “Smile with Yida!” Truly, a king who left an indelible impression…

“Could it be that Yusef had foreseen this day? I only hope I don’t end up as the princess’s plush toy…” Ira mused helplessly as his gaze drifted to the shackles on his wrist. With one look, his expression changed—any trace of resignation or wistful recollection vanished.

For these were the shackles of the Anti-Magic Stone.

As its name suggests, the Anti-Magic Stone is a special material that, upon contact, strips away a spellcaster’s or any magic-based profession’s ability to access mana. It is the bane of all arcane practitioners. Although a Chancellor’s power also relies on mana and could be easily misunderstood as susceptible to the stone’s effects, due to the unique source of that mana, they actually remain unaffected. The empire was undoubtedly well aware of this fact.

Lost in thought, Ira reached up to touch his neck. As he had feared… the feedback from the world runes confirmed—it had restored only 3/5 of his power. Since the world runes on a Chancellor’s conduit naturally regenerate 1/5 per day, it meant…

Ira had been unconscious for three days.

…

While Ira was still pondering which faction might have built this prison, he thought he heard something and turned his gaze toward a certain direction along the corridor outside his cell.

“Clank… clank…” On that side, the sound of clashing armor echoed—it sounded like a pair of heavily armored knights were approaching. Could they be here for me?

With that realization, Ira prepared for battle. He quietly triggered his ability—the Triggered Effect—uttering the familiar incantation: “The First…” However, his words faltered. Not because someone had done something, but because… in the chase, he had entirely depleted his Wings.

If it were the Wing Expansion command, the wings would simply wear away gradually. But if it was Wing Shatter, then all stored wing power would be obliterated instantly. The devastating power had come at an utterly disproportionate cost—a very low efficiency and extremely high wear.

“Clank… clank…” Under Ira’s intense gaze, two suits of armor appeared before his cell. Notably, these two sets of armor lacked helmets—and what should have been the organs hidden beneath them. Instead, in place of a head, there hovered a small cluster of blue flames.

The eerie blue light illuminated the otherwise gloomy cell, but it did nothing to ease the inherent foreboding; rather, it rendered the scene even more surreal.

“Ah, Dullahan…” Ira murmured. In that instant, he realized exactly where he was…

He had nearly guessed before: there was no doubt he now found himself in demon territory. Had he been captured by demons after drifting downstream? But he couldn’t tell which city he was in. Given the presence of such high-ranking demons, he was either at the front lines of conflict or deep within the belly of the demon king’s domain… He hoped it was the former.

“Clank… clank…” Amid the sound of colliding armor and Ira’s unwavering stare, the two headless knights stationed outside his cell offered no words of communication. Instead, they simultaneously cleared the corridor, as if awaiting the arrival of someone.

Ira had indeed slain headless knights before, and their mana was ideal material for forging the Second and Fourth Wing Pillars… But right now, Ira was clearly no match for them.

As Ira was lost in thought, sounds of running reached his ears from the far end of the corridor. Following the footsteps came the rapid clicking of high heels.

“Demon King, please don’t take unnecessary risks!” An anxious female voice—reminiscent of a seasoned professional—rang out, as she hurriedly urged, “We haven’t yet confirmed if they’ve lost their ability to fight! Demon King, sir?!”

Demon King?

Ira froze. At that moment, he realized exactly where such an imposing and psychologically oppressive prison would be located. Combined with the title “Demon King,” it was unmistakable…

He was in the Demon King’s Castle · Semi-Planar Prison. Because it wasn’t situated in the main material plane, escaping from here would be exceedingly difficult.

For Ira, this was far from good news.

“… Demon King…?”

Across the iron bars, staring back at him was a young girl who looked barely ten years old. She had dark red, blood-like scales on her back forming wing-like structures, and atop her head sat a pair of red horns.

Trailing behind her was a female demon exuding authority—a succubus clad in high heels and black stockings, complete with her characteristic tail and horns. Her appearance left no doubt about her race. This was the Demon King.

And undoubtedly, the so-called Demon King before Ira was none other than this long-haired, black, straight-haired loli dragon maiden.

This was an even graver reality, for…

Ira had long relied on and prized his First Wing Pillar. The source of his mana came from the former Demon King of the Crimson Dragon that he had slain. And the young Demon King before him was likely that very creature’s… daughter?

Ira felt a pang of guilt as he contemplated how to kill the Demon King before him and seize her mana to replenish his depleted Wing reserves.