Terror of the Hero's Advance
Ever since hearing the news that the terrifying hero had set out, I hadn't been able to get a proper night's sleep. What would the old Lobelia have done? Would she have scoffed at those puny humans, snapped her fingers to wipe them all out, and slept soundly? Or...
"Master?"
"Huh?"
"Is the meal not to your liking?"
The magic beast had been grilled like a steak, but without any sauce, it just felt like chewing on plain meat. The meat itself had no flavor worth savoring, making me wonder if it was my taste buds at fault. In any case, my mind kept wandering to that hero, leaving me spacing out more and more. That was the real problem.
I snapped out of it and gulped down the water beside me.
"No, Kudbeka. I'm fine."
I gently set down the glass and let out a deep sigh. Eating alone with someone else nearby didn't feel right. If he were a dog, I'd have thought separate meals were natural. Maybe it was our different upbringings, but I couldn't accept this casual atmosphere as normal.
Above all, this body felt burdensome. Even without moving much, not bathing left me sticky and uncomfortable. Sooner or later, I'd have to look at it with my own eyes.
Whatever. I set down my fork to end the tasteless meal and carefully wiped my mouth with a napkin. Then, glancing cautiously at Kudbeka behind me, I spoke up.
"Kudbeka."
"Yes, Master."
He responded sharply, as if he'd been waiting for my call.
"I want to take a bath. Where do I go?"
"I'll show you."
After finishing my meal, I followed him not toward the tall stairs to my room, but up a series of short, closely spaced ones nearby. The layout wasn't exactly efficient, but if it was built for show rather than function, that made sense.
Glancing around as I trailed behind him, we soon arrived at the bathhouse. The massive door differed from my room's, and inside was a place to leave clothes. Why was a private bath this spacious? I couldn't fathom it.
"Could you fetch some clothes from outside?"
"Right away."
Once I'd sent Kudbeka out, I carefully stripped off my clothes one by one. As each layer fell away, my body revealed itself in stark detail. Snow-white skin. Enormous breasts. And perky nipples standing at attention.
This was my body now—unbelievable, but what choice did I have? I had to accept it. Swallowing a surge of curses, I clamped my hand over my mouth and sighed deeply. I tossed the rest of my clothes into the basket ahead and stepped forward.
Splash, splash. My feet met the damp floor. In the center loomed a massive tub filled with steaming hot water, always at the ready.
"Whoa."
A genuine gasp escaped me. I approached, splashed some water on myself a few times, then slipped into the tub. It was just for me, so who cared. Sinking into the delightful heat, my eyes kept drifting to those huge breasts. They were my body, but I couldn't ignore them—it was driving me mad.
Back in Korea, I'd have killed for this. But now that it was mine? No excitement, just awkward hassle. Still, curiosity overrode everything. Before I knew it, my hands were on my breasts.
Soft yet springy—the texture was unparalleled.
"Mm."
But it wasn't as fun as I'd thought. Just kneading dough, really. Touch or don't; it made no difference. Who knew if this was even good.
I pulled my hands away with a heavy sigh—when the door suddenly creaked open.
Kudbeka with the clothes? I turned toward the door, only to see him already inside the bathhouse.
"...K-Kudbeka?!"
"Yes?"
I shrank down in panic, calling his name. He stared back with a blank voice.
"W-Why'd you come in?"
"To wash your body, of course. Isn't that obvious?"
"What?"
What the hell? Lobelia, explain yourself.
"You ordered me to wash you every day."
His tone brimmed with consideration, but right now, it wasn't welcome.
"Not today. I'll ask next time."
I tried to sound gentle, but he showed no sign of leaving.
"You said you felt lonely, Master. I can't disobey that order."
"Eek."
Wasn't that a stretch? I'd heard medieval slaves were treated like objects, nudity no big deal—but rumor or fact, who knew. For Lobelia to live like that? It left me baffled.
As I racked my brain, Kudbeka approached cautiously. He'd removed his shoes but kept his suit on. I wanted to snap at him for entering a bath like that, but I had no interest in ogling a naked man, so I stayed silent.
"Wait—can you tell me what that order was exactly?"
This wasn't my body, it was Lobelia's, but baring myself to a man still felt off. A public bath with strangers as total unknowns? Fine. But daily washes from my attendant? That crossed into weird territory.
What had Lobelia been thinking to beg for baths out of loneliness? I was living on in her body, but I didn't understand her—so this reaction felt natural.
Panicking, I tried to stop him. He halted, cleared his throat with a ahem, and recited what I—no, Lobelia—had said.
"No matter what happens from now on, wash my body."
"Ah."
No matter what? Even if I lost my memories? Even submerged, cold sweat beaded on my skin.
Silence stretched. Then Kudbeka continued softly.
"Perhaps doing things exactly as before will bring back your memories, Master."
That sealed another escape route. I wanted to refuse outright, but couldn't. Lobelia, whom I'd never met, suddenly felt infuriating. (Though a mirror sufficed—no need to meet.) Still, face-to-face, I'd have words.
"...F-Fine. Just a little, then."
In the end, I accepted. Tense, I watched him. Noticing, he glanced over with a soft smile.
"Seeing you like this, Master... it's truly adorable."
"No... enough."
Why did "cute" trigger such revulsion? Goosebumps prickled my skin like icy needles.
Ugh, I can't get used to this.
Hiding my disgust, I glanced up at the approaching Kudbeka. His height was always imposing. Even against my past self, but from this tiny body? It doubled the intimidation.
"Then... if you would."
If I couldn't escape, might as well enjoy it. He was racking his brain for ways to restore my memories—ignoring his kindness felt wrong. I carefully stood, hands modestly covering my breasts, stepped daintily from the tub, and turned so my crotch stayed hidden.
....
Why was this pose so natural? Chills ran down my spine. Was it just instinct for a woman's body? That made sense, sort of.
Groaning inwardly, I offered my back. His rough, massive hand settled on it with a tap. It stroked a few times, then he spoke.
"I'll scrub your back now."
For some reason, it felt comforting. No discomfort or aversion—just peace. His touch soothed me; I nearly zoned out.
Gasp. Snapping to, I blinked and waited. Leaning forward, breasts barely covered, I saw Kudbeka holding what looked like woven branches.
"...Kudbeka?"
Doubt and dread hit—why those in his hands? I called his name warily.
"Yes, Master."
"What's that?"
"A scrub brush. You haven't bathed in three days while asleep."
That's a scrubber? Those whip-like branches? In this magic-filled medieval-ish world, couldn't they do better?
"W-Wait... Isn't that too harsh for this delicate body?"
I protested nervously. But he smiled, pressed my back gently.
I was no Demon King now—just a magic-less girl. Terrified, my shoulders hunched instinctively. It reminded me of old tales: branches woven for scrubbing.
Swallowing hard, eyes squeezed shut, I trembled taut. His hand lifted—whoosh—smack!
"Hyah?!"
It stung like hell. My frail body couldn't take it; I whined cutely despite myself, clamping my mouth in shame. Naked embarrassment aside, that coquettish scream from my voice? Mortifying.
Why this voice? As shame ebbed, throbbing pain lingered on my back.
Damn. Does this even scrub? Unbelievable.
Gritting through pain and humiliation, I grumbled inwardly, back to him. But another whoosh—pain etched into my brain alone.
"Kyaa!"
Fuck.
"W-Wait..."
"Yes, Master."
I muffled my groan, called him. He stopped, stood straight, gazing impassively. No enjoyment, yet... emotionless?
Glancing back yielded nothing. I turned away.
"T-Too painful. Can we stop?"
"My apologies. I must have misjudged my strength."
Phew. Better that than malice. With his power, he'd kill me wordlessly if he wanted—no resistance possible.
I slid down like a playground slide, submerging. Hot water hit my smarting back—sharp stings drew groans.
"Kuh... You can go now. I'll call if needed."
"Understood."
Watching him leave swiftly left me uneasy. I'd overlooked it, but feeling his strength indirectly? No joke.
Was I alive just because I was the Demon King? The thought chilled me.
A man who could kill me anytime, right beside me—unsettling. Terrifying.
Hearing the hero invade the Demon Realm to kill me had numbed my fingertips in fear. Same sensation now, body in warm water yet cooling.
Lost in grim thoughts, I whispered like self-hypnosis.
"Kudbeka's a loyal servant. I can trust him."
My trembling voice, meant to calm my anxiety, echoed in the bathhouse.