MORE THAN JUST STRENGTH

PLACE : SOMEWHERE IN THE DEMON REALM

In the dim, eerie hall of the ancient castle, shrouded in shadows and melancholy, the demon lord sat enthroned. His foreboding silhouette was barely visible; only the glint of a silver glass, which he held loosely, hinted at his indulgence in the dark liquor it contained.

Out of the darkness, a figure stepped into the scant light—a demon girl named Seraphina, whose approach was both graceful and fraught with tension. She knelt before the throne, her posture a mix of reverence and apprehension.

"Seraphina, have you located it?" the demon lord's voice boomed, resonating off the stone walls with a commanding and fearsome timbre.

"My lord, forgive me! We have yet to recover the sword," Seraphina stammered, her voice quivering with the dread of her master's displeasure.

At her words, the demon lord rose from his throne, his movements swift and filled with an ominous grace. As he stepped forward, the shadows fell away to reveal his striking features: stark white hair contrasted against pitch-black eyes, sharp and penetrating. Bluish-black tattoos, reminiscent of arcane symbols, traced from his forehead down to his cheeks, enhancing the demonic horns that framed his face, adding to his devilish allure.

<Status >

<Name > Noir

<Title > 5th Demon King

<Strength > 820k. <Agility > ???

<Endurance > 520k. <Mana > 980k

Skills : ????

In a sudden gesture of anger, he hurled the glass he was holding; Despite being made of silver, it shattered against the stone floor, the sound echoing ominously throughout the vast hall.

"It has been over four months! Where in the depths of hell is that accursed sword?" he bellowed, his voice thick with fury, making it clear that failure was not an option, and the consequences of continued disappointment could be dire.

Seraphina was just so scared that, her body didn't even moved,As Seraphina remained paralyzed with fear, the air in the room shifted abruptly with the arrival of the new figure.

"I know where that sword is!"

His entrance was as dramatic as his appearance. Standing at the threshold, the man's presence filled the room with an almost tangible energy. His red eyes, shimmering with golden and silver flecks, seemed to capture the dim light, casting an otherworldly glow that accentuated his eerie beauty. His hair, the color of a smoldering fire, flowed around his face and shoulders, framing his sharp features.

He stood tall, his stature rivaling that of the notorious 5th demon king, Noir. His attire, unconventional and scant, hinted at his flamboyant nature, showcasing an expanse of pale, sculpted skin that contrasted starkly with the dark tones of the room. Each movement he made was calculated, betraying a confidence and cleverness that commanded the room.

The demon king's eyes lit up with a mixture of intrigue and malice as he recognized the newcomer. A slow, sinister smile spread across his face, distorting his features into a more demonic visage.

"Do you really know where that sword is, Xulgorath?" he inquired, his tone smooth yet carrying an undercurrent of danger, reflecting the perilous dance of knowledge and power about to unfold between them.

<Status >

<Name > Xulgorath

<Title > 6th Demon King

<Strength Skills> ???

Xulgorath inclined his head gracefully, not out of fear but as a strategic display of deference to sway Noir to his side. "I do indeed know where the sword lies, but retrieving it will not be straightforward," he said, his voice smooth and persuasive.

Noir, intrigued and impatient, pressed him, "Explain why."

"The sword is currently possessed by 'Him'—the ruler of the Kingdom of Mystveil. This king is no ordinary monarch; he's a hero of this age, a man in the prime of his power. Wresting the Gravity Sword from him is an impossibility unless he succumbs to old age," Xulgorath explained, his eyes holding a glint of respect for the distant king.

"And what would you have us do then?" Noir demanded, his interest piqued yet laced with skepticism.

Xulgorath's lips curled into a slight, knowing smile as he laid out the dynamics of their kind. "The first and second demon kings are engrossed in their delusions of co-existence with humans and other races, wasting their formidable powers. The third has vanished into obscurity After-'that incident,' remaining neutral in conflict. As for Nirvana, the fourth, her caprices guide her actions, rendering her unreliable she Only does whatever that entertains her. And the newly awakened seventh—well, she's her father's daughter, the first demon king, unlikely to oppose her lineage."

He then leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, proposing a daring alliance. "That leaves just the two of us, Noir. What do you say we join forces and conquer the six kingdoms one by one? Together, we can redraw the boundaries of power in this world."

Noir considered Xulgorath's offer, the wheels of ambition beginning to turn in his mind. This alliance could indeed be the lever he needed to elevate his own legacy beyond the shadows of the throne.

Noir exhaled deeply, the weight of decision evident in his demeanor. "What choice do I truly have? Very well, I agree. Now, tell me, Xulgorath, which kingdom shall we strike first? Almeida? Darwitz?"

Xulgorath's eyes gleamed with a calculating light, a grin creeping across his features as he contemplated their first target. "Before we set our sights on any major kingdom, we must amass an unparalleled force, the largest army this realm has ever seen," he declared, his voice imbued with dark ambition. "Our initial conquest will be against the most vulnerable—"

He paused, letting the suspense build, before revealing their target with a sinister satisfaction. "The Kingdom of Gwarga. The weakest kingdom".

Noir nodded slowly, the gears of war turning in his mind as he visualized their path to dominance. "Kingdom of Gwarga," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like a promise of impending doom. "Then it is decided. Let us begin preparations immediately. Gwarga will be the first to fall under the shadow of our power."

PLACE: CASTLE OF FIRST DEMON KING

In the dimly lit castle, Avion lingered by the window, his gaze fixed on the distant stars, lost in a maze of thought. The silence, a constant companion within the ancient stone walls, was broken by Lilith's approach.

"My Liege!" Her voice, both respectful and urgent, drew him back from his reverie.

Turning, Avion faced Lilith, his expression one of calm inquiry, ready to address whatever concern had prompted her visit.

Lilith, clasping her hands in front of her, reported with a hint of excitement, "That kid, Scarlett, has reached the village and has already begun to make improvements on her very first day."

A smile touched Avion's lips, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. "That's great," he responded, his tone genuine.

Yet, Lilith's expression did not mirror his contentment. Her brow was furrowed with confusion and concern, and she hesitated momentarily before voicing her thoughts. "Why did you train her in return for something as trivial as seeing her in those clothes? And why entrust her with just a small village? You even shared your deepest secrets with her, Your past!. That you've only ever shared with me and Zephyrion. What is it that you see in her?"

Avion's gaze drifted back to the window, his smile fading into a more reflective expression. He took a moment before answering, choosing his words with care.

"Lilith," he began, his voice steady yet filled with an unspoken depth, "sometimes the greatest investments are not in gold or land, but in potential. Scarlett possesses a rare combination of strength and resolve that I find... compelling. It's not about the clothes or the village; those are just tools to motivate and test her. I believe she has the potential to change not just that village but the world around her. And as for my story," he paused, turning to look Lilith directly in the eyes, "sharing it with her was a test of trust, one that I believe will forge a stronger bond in our fight against true enemies."

Lilith listened intently, absorbing every word. While she might not fully understand Avion's methods or his faith in Scarlett, she respected his judgment. After all, in the many years of serving him, she had learned that Avion's decisions, however unconventional, often led to unexpected but successful outcomes.

Avion continued, his tone reflective and tinged with past regrets. "In my prime, I believed I was destined to confront 'him.' Yet, I made a grave error; I always fought alone. As a result, I nearly perished at the hands of the Archangels before I could even challenge 'him.'"

He paused, looking out the window, his gaze distant as if picturing the past. "But when I encountered Scarlett, something about her struck me immediately. She is the one truly destined to face 'him.' That's why I chose to train her."

Avion's voice held a hint of earnestness as he explained the depth of his strategy. "I taught her battleform selection and mental world techniques, though they are mere cheap copy of her true potential. These techniques that I taught aren't her real power; they're simply the tools to set her on her path, a path that will, in time, reveal her true strengths and enable her real Battleform selection and mental world."

He turned back to Lilith, his expression serious yet hopeful. "Unlike me, who isolated himself in battle, she needs allies—faithful companions who will stand by her side. And this process has already begun. Her first ally, the skeleton Cryptus, is just the start."

Lilith nodded, absorbing Avion's intentions and the profound sense of duty he felt towards Scarlett's future. "I respect your decision," she said, her smile one of understanding and acceptance. Her response was not just a formality but a genuine acknowledgment of Avion's foresight and the heavy responsibilities he shouldered, both for his past mistakes and for the future he hoped to secure for Scarlett.

UNKNOWN VILLAGE

As the morning light filtered through the shelter's windows, the peaceful stillness of Scarlett's room was gently disrupted by the arrival of Evadne and a group of female villagers. Their task was simple yet significant—to wake their ruler, a duty they performed with a mix of reverence and routine.

Unbeknownst to them, Scarlett, ever vigilant even in slumber, maintained a heightened awareness typical of someone accustomed to constant threats like monsters. Since villagers are monsters too,The moment the villagers stepped inside, her instincts kicked in. She leapt from her bed, assuming a defensive posture, ready to face any perceived threat.

The room filled with a sudden awkwardness as the villagers caught sight of Scarlett's state of undress. Her nightly habit of shedding her clothes while asleep had left her exposed, her sculpted muscles on display.

The women, despite being monsters themselves and no strangers to the wild, couldn't help but blush at the sight of such defined physicality. Evadne, young and bashful, quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Realizing her lack of attire, Scarlett swiftly cloaked herself in clothes conjured from her spatial magic, easing the tension in the room. Her movements were fluid and practiced, a brief shimmer in the air as her garments wrapped around her, restoring her modesty. She then relaxed her stance, her expression softening as she addressed her flustered visitors with a reassuring smile, acknowledging the morning's unintended startle with a light-hearted ease that helped dissipate any remaining discomfort among the group.

As Scarlett took a closer look at her visitors, she noticed a remarkable transformation in their appearances. The goblin women, who previously bore more monstrous features, now possessed a refined beauty, their skin subtly glowing, their eyes sparkling with an alluring charm that was hard to ignore.

The demon girls, too, had undergone a change; their skin had lightened from a deep brown to a creamy white, and their once prominent teeth had shrunk, giving their smiles a more delicate, human-like quality.

Moved by curiosity and a touch of playful flirtation, Scarlett approached one of the goblin women. With a dramatic flourish that seemed to conjure a red rose from thin air, she placed it between her teeth. She leaned in close, her hands gently resting on the woman's shoulders, their faces inches apart. Her words were a teasing whisper, "What is such a beautiful creature doing here? I'm engaged, but I wouldn't mind having a concubine."

Despite being a women,The goblin woman's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, a clear sign of her flustered state. The unexpected compliment and Scarlett's charismatic presence had clearly left an impression, stirring feelings within her.

However, the room filled with a ripple of surprise and confusion as the villagers exchanged puzzled looks. The mention of Scarlett's engagement caught them off guard—this was news to them, and it spread whispers of curiosity and wonder throughout the group.

Cryptus, who had been standing a bit apart, overheard the conversation and realized the misunderstanding. He hadn't known about Scarlett's supposed engagement, and it was apparent that this claim was news to everyone else as well.

"Scarlett-sama, are you really engaged?" one of the goblin women had asked, her voice echoing the collective shock.

Scarlett, recognizing the importance of clarity and openness, responded with a serene yet firm tone. "Yep! My wife is a human named Irish."

The word "wife" hung in the air, heavier and more complex than any other part of her declaration. Murmurs swept through the group as they tried to reconcile this news with their traditional views on relationships and leadership.

"Wife?" the surprise was evident in their voices, a chorus of disbelief and curiosity. The notion of a woman being married to another woman, especially in a leader revered for her strength and beauty, challenged their preconceived ideas.

Everyone reacted differently. Some of the women were visibly pleased, their smiles broadening as they whispered among themselves about the romantic notion of their leader in love. For others, the shock was more pronounced, their brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand the dynamics of a same-sex relationship involving their leader.

For Evadne, the news was a double-edged sword. While he was initially saddened by the realization that his dreams of a future with Scarlett were unattainable, there was also a strange sense of relief. Knowing that Scarlett's heart belonged to another woman made her unattainable in a different way, which oddly eased his heartache that he still have a chance.

"But, Scarlett-sama, how does this work with a human? And another woman?" one villager dared to ask, her curiosity overcoming her reservations.

Scarlett smiled, a gesture that softened her imposing presence, making her more relatable to her followers. "Love knows no boundaries—not of race, not of gender. Irish and I met under unusual circumstances, and we found a connection that is rare. She's my partner, my equal, and yes, my wife."

Her explanation, delivered with genuine warmth and confidence, helped to ease the villagers' uncertainties. They looked at each other, their expressions slowly changing from shock to acceptance. The realization that their leader was advocating for a form of love and partnership that transcended traditional norms was inspiring.

Scarlett's attention goes to outside where, As Scarlett surveyed the village, noticing the transformation of its inhabitants, her expression shifted from amusement to bewilderment. The changes were not limited to the women; the men had undergone a similar transformation, their bodies now muscular and refined, their features strikingly handsome. It was as if the entire village had been blessed overnight with vitality and youth.

Elder Semiath (The one who gave Scarlett pair of black stockings saying it's a treasure), who had previously appeared frail and aged, now approached Scarlett with the sprightly step of a much younger man. His hair, once white and thinning, was now a lustrous black, and his skin radiated health. The transformation was so profound that Scarlett could hardly recognize him.

"Scarlett-sama, you woke up?" Semiath greeted her with a warm, genuine smile that seemed to mirror his physical rejuvenation.

Scarlett, still trying to process the dramatic changes, responded with visible astonishment. "Just what is going on here?"

Semiath chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and joy. "It seems that the blessings you gave us have not only enhanced our physical capabilities but also reversed our aging process to some extent. This morning, we all awoke to find ourselves younger, stronger, and more vital than we have been in years."

The villagers, overhearing the conversation, nodded in agreement, their faces alight with happiness and gratitude. They displayed their newfound vigor with broad smiles and lively gestures, clearly enjoying the physical improvements.

Scarlett took a moment to absorb the sight before her, the impact of her actions becoming clear. The transformation of the village was profound, affecting every individual. It wasn't just about physical beauty or strength; there was a newfound sense of hope and vitality that pervaded the atmosphere.

"Your blessing has given us more than just strength," Semiath continued, his voice filled with deep gratitude. "It has given us a second chance at youth, and for that, we are profoundly thankful."

Scarlett, moved by the evident joy and gratitude of the villagers, felt a warmth spread through her heart. The realization that her actions had such a positive impact on the community filled her with a sense of purpose and determination. She smiled, her earlier shock giving way to a sense of responsibility and resolve.

"Well, it seems I have more work to do here than I thought," she said with renewed vigor. "Let's make sure that this new beginning leads to a prosperous future for everyone in the village."

Her declaration was met with cheers and applause from the villagers, who were now more eager than ever to support their new leader in her endeavors to transform their home into a thriving haven.