Without another word, the man turned away.
Panic surged through her.
"P-please!" she cried desperately.
"Save us… I freed you. That was our deal!"
He stopped.
Slowly, he looked back at her.
"Should I?" he asked lightly, smiling.
Her breath caught.
"Y-you said you would help us!"
she pleaded, her voice breaking.
The man's expression went blank.
"When did I say that?"
The world collapsed around her.
"Please… please… please…"
she sobbed, tears striking the blood-stained floor.
He watched her quietly.
Then he spoke.
"Do not worry," he said calmly.
"I always repay what I am given."
The princess's strength finally gave out.
Blood pooled beneath her as her consciousness began to fade.
Through blurred vision, she saw the man walking away—
unhurried, unconcerned, already gone from her world.
Darkness swallowed her.
—
Inside the palace, chaos reigned.
Knights rushed toward the basement after sensing the overwhelming aura.
When they arrived, they froze.
The princess lay unconscious on the cold stone floor,
blood staining the ground around her.
"Princess!"
The king ran forward, lifting her into his arms, his hands trembling.
"Healers—now! Hurry!"
As the healers worked desperately, the king looked up.
His gaze fell upon the chamber.
The barrier was gone.
The chains were shattered, reduced to dust.
Horror drained the color from his face.
His voice dropped to a whisper, heavy with fear and regret.
"Oh… my daughter…"
He swallowed.
"What have you done?"
The king carried the princess in his arms through the quiet halls, each step heavy with dread.
When they reached her bedroom, the queen was already there.
Her eyes widened at the sight—her daughter, limp and pale, cradled in the arms of the man she had loved for decades.
"My daughter… my daughter!" the queen cried, rushing forward, tears streaming down her face. "What happened to her?"
She looked up at the king.
For the first time in her life, she saw him like this.
Not the bright, cheerful man she had married.
Not the wise and confident ruler who had faced countless crises.
This was a man broken by fear, guilt, and despair—lost, devastated, and utterly human.
The king laid the princess gently on her bed, his hands trembling.
He bent close, whispering over and over,
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
The queen wrapped her arms around him, tears streaming down her face.
"It's okay," she murmured, holding him tight.
"But you… you're not alone in this."
For a moment, they clung to each other, finding a fragile warmth amidst the despair.
Then the king straightened, gathering the last scraps of courage he had left.
His voice, steady but heavy, cut through the chamber.
"Prepare the knights," he ordered.
"Even if there's no hope, we fight.
And those who wish to flee… do it now.
No one will blame you."
The message spread quickly.
Knights, ministers, and servants felt the weight of inevitability.
Some ran, eyes wide with terror.
Some stayed, faces pale, fear etched into every line.
Outside, the demons—frozen in disbelief at the sudden storm of power—stirred again.
Unease twisted their minds.
The world itself seemed to shiver.
Something had been freed.
Something that should never have been.
Outside the palace, the world had descended into chaos.
Swords clashed.
Screams tore through the air—children wailing for lost parents, husbands calling for wives who would never answer, grandparents sobbing over grandchildren ripped away.
Soldiers cried out in agony as their ranks fell apart.
Demons roared, their fury echoing over the flames.
Walls crumbled.
Houses burned, the heat scorching the streets.
Blood ran like rivers, staining the ground in a sickening torrent.
Amidst it all, atop the highest tower of the palace, the sealed man sat.
Calm. Relaxed. Watching the world burn like a painting of chaos.
The destruction spread before him, and a small, almost imperceptible smile curved his lips.
He did not move to stop it.
He did not intervene.
He simply observed.