Voros, crown prince of the Demonkin Nation, was sitting at his desk in the executive palace office and humming inquisitively at the documents he had in his hand. For Voros, it had been a highly unremarkable day so far: He had woken up, been waited upon by servants, taken his meals, and performed royal duties in place of his father, the king, who was bedridden. While Voros did not yet wear the crown, everyone around him regarded him as the monarch in all but name. Even the documents Voros was reading at that moment were of no particular importance. But ordinary life as he knew it was about to come to an end, courtesy of a single crow who could be found at that very moment perching on the windowsill and cawing for attention.
“Take your leave,” Voros commanded his maids and bodyguards.
“Yes, Your Highness,” his attendants said as one, bowing and exiting the prince’s office.
The crow on the windowsill wasn’t a wild bird but a magic item able to record audio and used to deliver messages to the designated contact. This was the method Voros usually employed to communicate new assignments to the Masters allied to his nation whenever he didn’t have the time to meet them face-to-face. The maid and the prince’s bodyguards didn’t find it at all weird that they had to leave Voros alone with a talking crow, since exchanges like these had happened many times before. In fact, they were extra obedient when it came time to leave the room, since they risked being beheaded if they overheard something extra sensitive from the crow. As such, nobody wanted to be the last to leave the office.
Voros walked over to the windowsill with the kind of gait that suggested this was business as usual. Are we finally rid of that Wicked Witch’s minion who’s been menacing our troops? It took longer than I would’ve liked. I suppose I should get started on the preparations to take over Diablo’s fiefdom, pending the completion of Doc’s second assignment. Honestly, I can hardly keep up with all this extra workload.
Voros sighed, resigned as he was to the burdens of being the de facto king. In his mind, he was about to receive a routine message from Goh, then he would have to wait some more for Doc to complete the job of assassinating Diablo with his horde of brainwashed soldiers. But the prince wasn’t prepared for what he was about to hear from the crow’s open beak.
“It’s me,” came the voice of Goh, ringing out from the bird. “I was able to get rid of that warrior chick ya mentioned, but I ran into a problem afterward. The witch sent another minion who pounded my ass into the dirt, no two ways about it. Her powers are way too insane, and I don’t see how I’m s’posed to beat her. Plus, seein’ what happened to me, I don’t think Doc’s makin’ it back in one piece this time either.”
For his part, Voros had been thrown for a loop and he found himself struggling to comprehend what had just been reported. Voros was forced to endure the disrespectful behavior of the Masters whenever he engaged with them, but he had let all the insults slide since every single one of the five Masters held the power to eradicate the entire Demonkin Nation army and lay waste to the kingdom if they were ever minded to. Viewed in that light, Goh’s message didn’t make an ounce of sense, leaving Voros deeply confused.
“I had to go into hidin’ to lick my wounds and regroup, so that I can kill that dumb little short stack the next time I see her,” Goh continued. “And if I’m being perfectly honest, even talking to ya like this risks blowin’ my cover, but I did it anyway, since we go back a long way and you’ve been good to me. You’re welcome, by the way. I’ll end this with a warning: Ya better hightail it outta that nation of yours and lie low too. Since you messed with the witch, I’d say it’s a safe bet the Demonkin Nation’s next on her hit list. If ya like breathin’ oxygen, ya better take my advice seriously. Entirely up to you, of course, but don’t expect me to come and bail ya out later.”
Once the sound recording had ended, the magic crow turned back into its original form: an egg. The full gravity of the situation finally hit Voros, and he slumped to one knee with one hand clamped to the windowsill to steady himself while he pressed the other over his mouth. He looked paler than a hospital patient on the verge of death, and beads of sweat traced the contours of his face.
“This cannot be!” Voros wailed. “How could our most powerful Master lose to one of the witch’s minions? Is he trying to deceive me? No, there’s no good reason why he would! Has he switched sides and gone to work for that infernal witch? What could she possibly have to offer him? Money? Women? Status? Glory? No, I just can’t see it! It’s simply unthinkable for him to double-cross us...”
As for Doc, the Wicked Witch of the Tower championed Absolute Autonomy for Humans, so there was absolutely no way he would have purposely switched sides, since it would effectively put an end to his ghastly human experimentation.
“But then that would mean that everything Goh just said was true...” Voros lamented. “That witch has vanquished both Goh and Doc?”
Gira hadn’t been seen either since he had shown up to duel a party of adventurers in league with the tower witch. Added to the previous disappearances of Miki and Daigo, this meant there was no longer anyone left in the Demonkin Nation with the power to resist the witch. Like Goh had said, the witch’s next move was likely to cross the border and attack the demons where they lived. When all was said and done, the Demonkin Nation could well end up being treated as a colony, much like the Elven Queendom.
“As crown prince, I can’t allow my nation to bend the knee to some rotten inferior, Wicked Witch or no!” Voros snapped. “That would be completely unacceptable!”
He slammed his fist into the floor in his fury, the mere thought of his proud nation being under the influence of the Wicked Witch of the Tower making his blood boil to such an extent, he could quite easily have ruptured every vein in his body, if such a cause of death were actually possible.
“I won’t allow it...” he breathed. “I will not allow that to happen to my nation!”
Voros’s pride as a member of the demon race would never tolerate such a humiliation, so he made his mind up on the spot to unleash the final card he had up his sleeve.
“I must protect the Demonkin Nation...” he rasped. “I must revive C!”
Now fully committed to this course of action, Voros rose to his feet and made his way to his desired destination, but instead of going immediately to the bottommost floor of the palace where C was hidden away, he instead went to the treasury to retrieve a national heirloom: the Martyr’s Pendant. This particular magic item was guaranteed to protect the wearer from any sort of attack, no matter how devastating, but it was a single-use item that would disintegrate shortly after being activated.
“What I’m about to do is unprecedented in our nation’s history,” Voros whispered to himself. “If I am to protect my nation, I cannot afford to let anything happen to me.”
✦ ✦ ✦
After rationalizing his decision, Voros put the Martyr’s Pendant on and made his way to the palace basement.