“... Do you like the new body we prepared for your descent, my Lord?”

The elegant-looking Elder, no, Supreme Strategist, spoke again, his voice cutting through the silence as he received no response from Delilah. Despite his polite tone, there was an unmistakable chill in his gaze as he looked at her. She knew what those gazes meant—

—they were suspicious of her. If they discovered the ritual had failed, her life, intended as a vessel, would be in grave danger.

Just as Delilah was about to speak, the Demon Lord standing beside her tilted his head and spoke.

[Well, well, well. To think the Demonic Elders have collapsed to such an alarming degree in my divine absence. How dare this court present such manners to me? If not for my soul-like form, this arrogant bastard would have been beheaded instantly.]

Such manners? Delilah remarked, inwardly

[Indeed… if they had to resort to a forbidden spell, I can only imagine how far the demon realm has fallen.]

Do you mean the ritual? Delilah asked.

[Yes.]

Pondering the Demon Lord’s words, Delilah remained silent a bit longer. The Supreme Strategist’s voice, now strangely unsettling, reached her ears again.

“... Are you perhaps displeased with the vessel?”

Finally, Delilah responded, but her answer was quite different from the question. “Unbelievable.”

“Excuse me?” The sudden, icy remark from Delilah widened the Supreme Strategist’s eyes in shock. “What are you saying all of a sudden?”

“To think that the Demonic Elders have not only fallen to using a forbidden spell but also have such atrocious manners. Do you consider this behavior respectful to me?” Delilah’s voice dripped with disdain and anger.

Stunned by the abrupt change in attitude, the Supreme Strategist hesitated only briefly before dropping to the ground in prostration, his voice rising.

“O hail the Demon Lords! All Demons bow before you! Supreme Strategist Gnornthail Maggdra greets the Tenth Demon Lord!”

“Greetings to the Tenth Demon Lord!”

At the Supreme Strategist’s declaration, the other Elders prostrated themselves on the ground in absolute devotion. Silence pervaded the dungeon as Delilah’s cold gaze weighed over everyone. 

From the corner where she sat, the Demon Lord couldn’t help but be amazed by what he just witnessed. His amused voice rang out.

[Haha, this is amusing. I’ve taken a liking to you even more. But…] His eyes became irritable and icy. [Are you mimicking me right now?]

Not exactly… Delilah inwardly responded. Contrary to her answer, she did make use of his reaction and words.

[Hm... I see. You mean to say there’s no reason to keep you alive if they find out the descent failed. Clever. Very clever.]

You catch on fast, Delilah nodded inwardly.

Clapping elegantly in amusement, the Demon Lord’s satisfied smile spread as “Cute and Clever” hung in the air. Seeing this, Delilah felt a surge of regret but knew she must continue the act to survive, even if it was for a bit longer.

“Pathetic. You dare call me a demon lord when I descended into a female human vessel. If it wasn’t for my recent vessel, I would have beheaded you all on the spot!” Delilah said coldly and dismissively.

[Well done, you even made it sound more intimidating.] The Demon Lord said, amused.

Unable to hear the Demon Lord’s words, the Supreme Strategist spoke devotedly, “My apologies, demoness, I fear the ritual might have failed…”

“Enough! How long do you plan to detain me in this place?” Delilah continued, her voice laced with authority.

“Forgive me!” The Supreme Strategist nervously apologized and quickly tilted his head, commanding, “Release the sacred one from her bindings immediately! Hurry!”

“Yes, yes!”

At the Supreme Strategist’s command, the other Elders hurriedly rushed to free Delilah from her shackles. 

Meanwhile, the Demon Lord, now standing in the corner with his arms behind his back as elegantly as always, watched Delilah, the ten-year-old girl with a lisping voice, crimson eyes, and unkempt raven-black hair, with a curious smile.

— — — — —

Having transported Delilah secretly to the nearest antique residence among a cluster of aligned buildings on the southern side of the Demon realm, the Supreme Strategist spoke.

“I beg your forgiveness, my lord. We had to test you in case the ritual had failed, even though it meant committing a grave sin.”

“Hm…”

To the Elder’s understandable excuses, Delilah, who kept an indifferent demeanor, nodded despite feeling like she was standing on a shaking cliff. One wrong word and she could not only die but also get eaten. Knowing little about the situation or the people around her, Delilah decided that continuing to act displeased yet rational was the safest course of action.

“... Leave me be. I wish to speak to no one for now.” She gestured with her delicate hand.

“I understand.” Respecting and acknowledging the absolute authority of the Demoness, the Supreme Strategist departed without further suspicion. As he was about to exit through the heavy wooden door, he suddenly turned back to Delilah.

“Ah, if you permit, perhaps I should leave some attendants nearby in case you need anything.”

“No need,” she flatly refused. “I have matters to settle on my own. Leave.”

“Very well, my lord. I’ll station a few guards two meters outside. Call if you need anything.”

So persistent, Delilah inwardly pondered before answering, “Do so.”

“Understood. Then I’ll take my leave—” Bowing one last time in absolute devotion, the three-horned demon exited. As the sound of his and the others’ footsteps faded, Delilah exhaled in relief. The tension that had coiled around her heart temporarily eased as she turned to the well-made and cozy bed. She was sweating buckets.

There, the Demon Lord, who had been beside her, now lounged comfortably, looming over her.

[Are you done with your business?]

Is this ‘really’ the Demon Lord? Still aghast and confused by his recent behaviors, Delilah mused. The legendary monster who defeated all the knights and monsters alike. It is said he could tremble the earth and heaven with a single punch. He even re-established the Demons, who had been degraded to monsters in the demonic realm, and brought forth a peace truce. Even if briefly?

“Are you ‘really’ the Demon Lord?” Delilah asked.

[Of course. Why would I lie to you?]

“You mean to say you’re the Demon Lord who ruled the Demon realm one thousand years ago?” Delilah raised her head.

[So a thousand years have passed since I died? And a lot of my advisors have long since died.] He contemplated his past, continuing, [I’m unsure of the exact time, but the blood-soaked history of the three realms belongs to me. There might have been other Demon Lords with better accomplishments than I, but…]

The arrogance in his sinister smile spoke volumes about his self-assurance. If he really is the Demon Lord, she needs to utilize him to survive here. However, the problem is figuring out how to get his cooperation.

As Delilah contemplated, the Demon Lord, now floating with his legs crossed, spoke up.

[By the way, how long will you continue to speak so rudely to me? If you’re at least my descendant, you should show proper respect.]

Ah, right. Delilah was so focused on survival she forgot that this Demon Lord, despite creating a peace pact between the three realms, was one of the strictest ancestors of these damned demons.

“I understand, my lord. I apologize for my rudeness,” she said more sincerely.

[Phew…] Sighing and rolling his eyes, the Demon Lord still felt her sincerity despite her carefree tone.

“That aside,” another unexpected response left her mouth, “your attitude needs work, Demon Lord.”

[Hmm…? What did you say, brat?]

“Calm down, calm down,” she urged as his face wrinkled with rage. “Hear me out.”

[Tsk…] He turned his head to the side, clicking his tongue.

Sighing, Delilah continued, “Your precious descendants kidnapped me, fed me all kinds of demons, made me drink all kinds of blood, and implanted flesh and organs into my body, nearly killing me over four years. And you talk about respect? You think being a high-ranking ghost makes you above everything?”

The gradually turning fierceness in Delilah’s face made the Demon Lord look down sheepishly.

[Fair point, but does it matter how you speak to me…?]

“Tch,” she scoffed at his unadmitted behavior. “At this point, all I see is an extremely old man nagging over such a petty thing as respect. And for that matter, respect is reciprocal.”

[Reciprocal, you say? Sadly, such things don't exist in the Demon realm. Only the strong need to be respected while the weak…]

“What? You really are an old man—”

[Hey, don’t call me old man! I’m a very young Demon Lord!]

Yeah, right. For someone who is more than one thousand years old. This ghost is unlike the other high-rank ghosts that lay within her. Briefly musing, the Demon Lord fell silent as Delilah took a seat by the wooden table.

“Hah… now that it’s just the two of us, let’s sort this out. Sit across from me.”

[Alright… I was thinking you would take a warm bath after you were brought here. You keep surprising me more and more.]

Neglecting his words, Delilah responded, “Geez, just sit already. Unless you want me to tell you the tale of how your dear descendants used a forbidden spell and kidnapped innocent people!”

[Ugh…] Reluctantly, the Demon Lord moved to sit across from her, partially displeased by her dominating, overwhelming demeanor abnormal for a ten-year-old. It was as though she were an adult who had lived a full lifetime before.

[You’re so mysterious that I can’t even read your thoughts.]

“Is that so?” She touched her chest in brief, moody contemplation, also wondering what that high-rank entity within her truly was. Silence prevailed in the room as the cool breeze fluttering through the red trees outside the cathedral window brushed against her skin. Her sincerity in her voice made the Demon Lord sigh before he spoke.

[Then, what do you want to talk about? Get to the point and don’t beat around the bush.]

Drowning out the crimson atmosphere beyond the window and the voices of demon soldiers tormenting demon criminals and monsters seemingly caught within the border not so far away from the southern dungeons, Delilah leaned in with sharp eyes.

“What the hell is going on?”

The Demon Lord, half-leaning back, his red-lower lips widened devilishly, a hint of chill in his expression as his mouth slowly opened.

[I will get this straight, so listen carefully…]

— — — — —

Rubbing her increasingly aching forehead, Delilah repeated the answer she had just heard. “So, you’re saying you’re the Demon Lord, and you descended into his body because of some discarded forbidden spell and ritual performed by your dear descendants?”

[Correct.]

The Demon Lord nodded. Delilah continued, “But you failed to possess my body because of the high-rank mysterious spirit already within me. Instead, you marked my soul, so you wouldn't disappear into the mysterious void that sucked your soul a thousand years ago.”

[Precisely so. You nailed it right.]

The Demon Lord chuckled elegantly, adjusting the wrinkles on his dark suit. Was he happy that Delilah understood him, or was he just naturally smug? The ten-year-old girl felt quite awkward. To think that this old gramp, still a legend in all of the Hundred Thousand Continent, is actually the Demon Lord... But there were still a few things that didn’t add up even after their conversation.

“... Something’s off, though.”

[What is it?] the Demon Lord asked.

“You said you died of a mysterious vitality-draining illness, right?”

[Yes. That’s my final physical memory.]

“Physically? Why so?”

[I have told you once before. Due to my overwhelming power, my soul was separated from my body instead of wandering to Hell.]

“To my knowledge, the Demon Lord was slain by betrayal from internal subordinates due to desires for power and influence, leading to internal conflict within the Demon realm,” Delilah countered.

[Where did you hear such trashy rumors?]

“Well… it’s just something I overheard as a drifter and beggar in many alleys and slums I came across.”

Bashing the desk in annoyance, the Demon Lord snapped. [Who dares to spread such nonsense? I died of that illness, not from betrayal.] His fist clenched tightly. [Was it Vanstrilla? Or Basteilla?]

Narrowing her eyes carefreely, as though she didn’t recognize the names he mentioned, Delilah said, “... All in all, you died and your soul separated from your body.”

[Hmph, not all deaths are the same. No one under the heavens could be equal to me. Never mind the internal subordinates of the Demon realm. In the end, only that cruel illness that drained my life force, and demonic energy, and caused internal excessive bleeding could take my life.]

The Demon Lord explained his past diligently.

“Ah… I see.” Delilah sighed. Even in death, he was still pissed about a history and reputation long gone. Well, this isn’t really important right now. After musing, Delilah continued, “And one more thing that doesn’t make sense…”

[What is it?]

“You said you couldn’t possess me because of a strange high-ranking spirit within me, so you placed a mark on my soul, right? What happened to the spirit when that mark was imprinted on my soul? Did it go berserk? And why did you mark my soul even though you knew you couldn’t possess me? What’s your goal?”

That was the biggest mystery. What was the goal of the Demon Lord to do such a thing? Not trying to kick out the spirit and her soul? Or could it be that he couldn’t kick out the spirit because it was mysterious? Delilah couldn’t help but be cautious. Plus, the other Demon members didn’t seem to notice or hear him, so he must only be visible to her. But still, this was complicated for a ten-year-old to fully comprehend.

To her question, the Demon Lord, as if waiting for it, crossed his arms with his characteristic evil smile, now floating upside down, away from his seat. He just couldn’t stay still.

[Spirits have different ranks. Possession is beyond me, but the mark I imprinted on your soul was out of desperation to escape the abysmal abyss I was summoned from,] he sighed with relief before continuing, [The other spirit did go berserk briefly, which exhausted most of my lifeforce to some extent…]

At the Demon Lord’s explanation, Delilah asked, “The high-rank spirit could handle that much of your powerful life force?”

[Surprisingly so. At least to some extent. After all, the strength of a spirit varies with its achievements in its lifetimes, whether as a human, demon, monster, or even beast. Though no matter how powerful the spirit within you is, it can’t compare to me, the Demon Lord who bathed all three realms in blood and chaos.]

“...But why couldn’t you possess me then?” Delilah asked sarcastically.

[You brat, are you mocking me? There is a significant difference between being mysterious and being powerful.]

As though Delilah's reaction teased the Demon Lord, he snapped cutely yet elegantly.

A clear difference between being mysterious and being powerful? Huh? These words caught Delilah’s attention. If powerful means killing a lot of people and spiritual and bodily achievement, then mysterious means something entirely different. But still, her eyes narrowed as though jeering at him. Killing lots of people is something for an old gramp to brag about.

“...I see. Are you and the mysterious spirit coexisting in my body?”

[Hell, no. I don’t like a female physique, especially a ten-year-old girl’s.] He sidelong gazed at Delilah, whose face had a sinister smile as though her emotions were bubbling up. [Ahem, we are linked instead since more than two souls can’t stay in one body.]

“I see,” Delilah remarked, her ten-year-old brain grasping the gist of things. “So, what if three souls are in one body? What would happen?”

[Ah, that. I’ll leave it to your imagination.]

“Tsk!” Delilah clicked her tongue dismissively.

[Hahahaha!]

… Look at him, enjoying himself. He is a Demon Lord, after all. Delilah contemplated with a sigh. Of course, she knew what would happen to her body if that occurred. Obliteration! After all, the spirit within her body wasn’t some petty ghost, nor was the Demon Lord.

An unknown yet mysterious spirit, despite renowned crusaders and exorcists and their several days of effort and overwhelming golden holy magic, called her village, was unable to subdue the spirit, leading to Delilah inflicting more chaos in the village due to backlash. This led the village to abandon her and send her away, fearing she would one day destroy the entire village. In other words, it was practically considered an incurable disease, as this high-rank spirit could resurface at any time, and now another high-rank soul, the seemingly unreliable gramp of a Demon Lord, had marked her soul.

“So, you were unable to obliterate the spirit? Seriously?”

[Hmm… The moment I entered your body, I found it merging with your soul as if it were one. So if I tore it apart and obliterated it, you would have died. Though I could have done that, my dear vessel would also be damaged. I was stunned for the second time in my existence. A sensation I hadn’t felt in ages.]

With that, the Demon Lord wore a blissful smile as though he was excited to learn more about this spirit that made him helpless.

Is helplessness something to be excited about? Delilah felt a chill to her bone at that sight, involuntarily swallowing dryly—

—gramp I’m not your plaything.