Princess Lala squeezes a hoarse voice out through her frozen, trembling throat, “Why do you say that while smiling?”
“Because I’m kind.”
Lies! Lies! He lies!
He offers his hand to her like a proper gentleman. His palm faces down, perfectly covering her face from above. Sharp, pointed claws curve out from his fingertips.
“Come, take my hand. Become the bride of this great Daemon King. That’s what is best for you.”
“N-No! I’m…going home!”
His batwings close around her. They close in on the tiny body that trembles with rage, sorrow, and regret.
“It’s futile to fight against me, Lala Lilia. No one is coming to rescue you.”
“…!”
Nobody is coming to rescue me. Nobody is left. Father, Mother…Captain Rob…
A dark-black, cold lump buries inside her tiny chest. It’s the first time since Princess was born that she has ever tasted despair.
KA-BOOOOOOM!
A thundering explosion smashes the walls into a thousand pieces. Gold and white chalky fragments of its fancy remains are violently blown away, burning and steaming in the searing heat. The splinters pelt down like flaming hail on the batwings ensnaring Princess.
“HOT! HOOOOT!” The Daemon King screams as the scorching hot fragments burn his blue flesh and cut deeply into his wings. He faints in agonizing pain. Still, he doesn’t release her.
“Who is the Daemon King?” A well-mannered voice booms, “is that what you’ve arbitrarily started calling yourself?”
Not a second later another grumbled out, “A ‘self-proclaimed’ Daemon King, huh? What a joke.”
Razor-sharp scales glitter brilliant ruby against the sun. Valiant wings slice through the blue sky. Wisps of white smoke rise from his snout and mouth, remnants of the fireball he spat at the wall. Landing on all four claws on the balcony, Dragon glares at the self-proclaimed Daemon King.
“To begin with, Daemons have never had a king. As a species, they are obstinately set on preserving their individual principles and positions of power.”
Standing on the dragon’s back is a man completely covered in black: from his black hat resting on his black hair, his black clothes ending in black gloves, to his cloak, which is also black. The only whites are those of the outer canthus of his eyes and the seven old winter stars decorating his shield. They form the shape of the hunter racing through the night sky.
“Everyone hates persistent men, self-proclaimed Daemon King.”
They blew open the doors of the locked birdcage, and now outside winds howl through the room. They’ve blown away the sickeningly sweet, poisonous air. It’s only now Princess realizes this room stands at the highest floor of an absurdly tall tower.
“Thorn Knight Gideon!”
“Yo, Princess. You unhurt?”
“I’m oka—AAH!”
A hand shoots out and wrenches her wrist backwards. Though his batwings are now smoldering bloody wounds, his curly golden hair is in frizzling tatters, and blue blood gushes from his broken horns, the self-proclaimed Daemon King still refuses to relent.
“Let go! Lemme go!” Princess struggles with all her might in a wild frenzy. Flailing her tiny arms, she desperately stomps with her slender legs.
“I won’t let you escape. Stay here, Lala Lilia. Former Princess of a destroyed kingdom. It’s what’s best for you.”
Suddenly, Princess stands still. Daemon King smirks, thinking he’s won.
“…Release me.” The sun illuminates her piercing verdure eyes. She doesn’t back down. She doesn’t falter in fear. Instead, she locks those eyes on the blue man. “Reverfeat isn’t ruined as long as I live.”
Everything in the burning room freezes—Dragon, Princess, and the self-proclaimed Daemon King.
Not letting this opportune chance escape, the knight makes his move.
“BEGONE!”
He kicks off the dragon’s back, soaring high into the air. He lands on the self-proclaimed Daemon King’s burnt back. Driving his momentum and the weight of his body, sword, shield, and chainmail into his feet, he strikes the enemy’s back with a violent dropkick!
“GRUAH!” Suffering a direct blow, the self-proclaimed Daemon King loses his grip as he’s sent flying head over heels, turning somersaults on the ground before crashing into the wall. His agonized shriek sounds like the last cries of a dying frog, a dying cicada. “My WIIING! It’s…BROKEN!” One of his already crispy wings limply dangles from the joint.
The knight stares down at his defeated enemy and resolutely declares, “Keep yer grubby hands off our princess!”
“Damn you. Damn you, human trash! You’ve gone too far!”
The Daemon stumbles to his feet. His mouth suddenly snaps open and rips his flesh back to his ears, exposing jagged fangs. His refined, gentlemanly features disappear as if they never were.
“Whoa, now that’s a looker for you.” Knight Gideon blocks the path with his shield, utterly unafraid, as he stands protectively before the little redheaded princess. “Let me guess, this is what you really are?”
“SHUT U—huh?” Flames interrupt him, slamming a fireball into his gut. The self-proclaimed Daemon King goes flying. He crashes into the ground and heaves blood. “DAMN YOU ALL! What the hell is this—”
“It is me.”
Dragon’s breath finds its mark. An extremely thin, but extraordinarily hot flame shoots right through the blue man, slamming him against the wall in the process.
“Ooh, way to ventilate the room,” Gideon remarks, “Now I can breathe better.”
The destroyed pillows and blankets scattered burning feathers into the air, which softly flutter around the room like fireflies. The crystal vase, mother-of-pearl table, candied fruits, and the dainty, cutesy pink dress made for whoever was held captive in the birdcage are all smashed and torn to smithereens.
“…We did it,” Princess mutters. She clenches her fists and stomps her feet defiantly.
“Ah! Aah! Aaaaah! What’re you gonna do to make this up to me?! You put a hole in my wings!”
Dragon shoots a steamy breath at the bawling Daemon King to finish him off. Though it contains little flame, it’s scorching nonetheless. Glaring down at the collapsed Daemon, Dragon sternly warns, “Do not go near my little lady. This will be the only warning I grant thee.”
This time, the blue-skinned, golden-haired horned man falls completely silent. Princess throws her arms wide and dashes over.
“Mister!” she calls excitedly.
“Uh, that’s a bit much…though I am an old man.”
She passes right by the bashful knight, leaps onto the dragon, and hugs him tight.
“Oh, you meant him…”
She’s smiling. Princess is smiling. The deep creases that’d made their home in her forehead are gone. Joy glimmering in her eyes, she flashes her awfully large front tooth as her whole mouth gives way to her smile. Her freckles stand out even more now that she’s regained a healthy complexion.
Dragon snorts away a few smoldering feathers.
“Well, that works too,” Knight mutters.
Seeing her dimpled cheeks, the knight inwardly agrees, At least this curly-blond, horned-head bastard has eyes for beauty.