Demon King

CH- 08: Game Of Wits.

 Mary nodded in agreement, affirming, 'It is his life, and he should have the freedom to choose.'

Caught in a cycle of misuse by those around him, he questioned his purpose. His trust was shattered in the wake of betrayal. Mary, intimately familiar with these emotions, harbored a profound self-loathing for potentially contributing to such despair. She recoiled at the thought of becoming another factor driving a vulnerable individual toward the brink of despair.

"Never again." She vowed to herself. "From this moment onward, I am determined to save him, even if it means risking everything, and to guide him in discovering his journey." She added with a bit of hesitation.

— — — — — — —

"Women!" Ric sighs. "What does she consider herself to be, deciding for me? I am the one who gets to choose my path. What's wrong with embracing death?" Ric turns around to an empty room. No one to argue back with him. Yet he continued.

"Not too long ago, I wielded that power to rule the world. Have they all forgotten? Perhaps my face has faded from their memory. I did rarely raided their feeble settlements." He tried to remember, but every species had the same face and amongst the scum, he had a hard time distinguishing the humans.

"That can be changed," Ric remembers various ways to instill fear, a devious smile creeping onto his face. "But first I need a stronger body than whatever this thing is."

Ric scans his body, unable to guess which species it belonged to while wishing his real body was in one piece. Even a fraction of his previous body should be better than this pathetic lump of flesh.

He remembered seeing muscles with no protective layers of skin, a slender frame, and later bandages covering the whole body.

Was he a [Mummie] now?

They are strong enough beings, so he approved and moved on to pressing matters.

"Dragging that minister's head here should be terrorizing enough to remind these pathetic fools about the great demon king."

The problems circle back, reaching the first point again.

"Fucking leave me already." Ric forces his aura to expand, increasing the radius, hoping it will dissipate that way. All of his problems revolved around one problem. He had to fucking get rid of this light.

— — — — — — —

As days passed, the residents of [Hope] continued to journey farther from the townhouse. After fifty meters, they halted and established their camp for the first night. Yet, in the dead of night, Ric mastered the art of channeling the energy, directing it toward them once more, and employing them as transient vessels to contain his aura.

Mary cooperated by disrupting Ric's plan and organizing the group into smaller units. She deployed surveillance teams around these units, assigned with the duty of detecting even the slightest deviations. Aware of Ric's healing abilities, Mary instructed them to observe their wounds; any sign of healing would indicate Ric's aura had reached them, prompting a relocation to evade detection.

Thanks to the soldiers' efforts, the citizens of [Hope] were consistently afflicted with enough wounds to maintain the illusion, ensuring there was never a shortage of injuries to monitor.

This deadly game between Mary and Ric unfolded in secrecy, unbeknownst to the others. Despite the intensity of their conflict, Mary remained tight-lipped, understanding the importance of discretion—especially after learning about the enigmatic vanishing of the [Chambers'] family.

This is why 'Sir Reynold' chose the alias "Ric" to preserve the illusion, and Mary contributed by circulating rumors that the child was a manifestation of her invincible shield. This elaborate strategy aimed to shield his true identity and skills from scrutiny, ensuring that questions about his origin and abilities would remain veiled both in the present and future.

The leaders would now hesitate before attempting to target or bribe him. Though somewhat self-serving, this was Mary's only viable course of action at present.

[Spirit projections] of a weapon were inherently linked to their master. This ensured that they had to pass through her before reaching him. This arrangement allowed her to function as the shield everyone perceived her to be, enabling her to fulfill her promise until her last breath.

The rumors proved effective, with Mary simply nodding along to the outlandish speculations of her children. However, once everything settled, she knew she would need to enlist the aid of the finest therapists and ensure they attended many sessions. Something troubling was at play, and it needed to be addressed.

"Wild imagination, or the initial descent into madness?" Mary pondered, uncertain of the answer.

[Spirit weapons] held legendary status among the dragons. Mary acknowledged the risk of invoking their ire by invoking their name, yet time was not on her side. Only the most exceptional treasures can obscure the numerous plot holes in the story.

Spiritual beasts are believed to manifest as projections within spiritual weapons. These weapons harness the souls of formidable beasts, imbuing them with greater strength, resilience, and the capability to unleash havoc by projecting the beasts. As spectral entities, they are impervious to death and can inflict extensive damage over a wide area before requiring respite.

The deceased kings and queens pilfered select weapons from the dragon's hoard, employing them to craft spirit weapons. Recognizing that conventional arms couldn't breach the defenses of dragon scales or vanquish undead zombies, they resorted to these extraordinary artifacts for their unparalleled capabilities.

Numerous weapons were pilfered and repurposed during the conflict, leading to rumors of sudden, savage beasts materializing out of thin air, tearing through enemy lines, and vanishing without a trace. Such occurrences partly explain why the Kennel folk enjoy the freedom to wander our territories unchecked.

Over time, the tales continued to grow, such as the swift transformation, where a mere nod from Mary convinced the residents of [Hope] that she was the mother of an eleven-year-old son. Of course, her lie was a true myth as neither the invincible shield nor Ric was anything close to a spirit weapon or projection.

Unfounded rumors often grow into enduring myths, and this legend afforded Mary additional time to care for Ric—her tool Spirit—her son.

Before embarking on the journey of nurturing her son, Mary had to confront and defeat him first. Remarkably, the demon discerned Mary's intentions with no visual cues or help.

He is going to be known as a spirit projection of an invincible shield, after all, and chaos was always his domain.

Without healing the wounds, Ric pumped the lookouts with more stamina. Only when Mary woke up to find the laziest people amongst her children, chatting all night without a wink of sleep, did she deduce Ric's latest move.

Next, Ric transformed his domain skill into minuscule wisps of mana, hitching rides on the wind. Mary countered this by crafting basic hand fans and positioning herself upwind while sleeping.

In retaliation, Ric examined the wind patterns encircling the town and maneuvered strategically to catch Mary off guard. As an added benefit, the altered wind currents with his energy-rich healing mana brought wild animals closer, allowing her children to feast on succulent meat for the first time in their lives.

Mary grappled with conflicting emotions, uncertain whether she was training or reprimanding Ric. She couldn't help but feel remorseful for withholding the meal from him, as she had forbidden anyone from feeding her son until now.

Witnessing this merciless side of Mary left everyone in shock, but she knew she had to deplete Ric's energy somehow. Until then, he would persistently reject the healing aura, preventing his wounds from closing, but once he reached a state of exhaustion, his body would inevitably succumb to sleep, allowing it to prioritize healing.

Debbie served as Mary's secret weapon, enabling her to navigate the delicate balance between ruthlessness and compassion. Ric's excessive energy boosts raised suspicions among the guards, who began to question the energized citizens of Hope. Furthermore, he ingeniously exploited them as markers to track down the others.

Debbie's role as the least active ensures her energy reserves remain full. If not for her occasional clumsy missteps, she would hardly sustain any petty wounds. Also, her persistent nagging, attitude, and overall persona serve as an additional bonus, capable of exhausting anyone in her vicinity.

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