The Demon King’s Desired Hell
"Kyaak!"
"Everyone, run!"
"Hide!"
The grotesque monsters charging across the battlefield had drained every last shred of courage from the soldiers and mages alike. Panic gripped the ranks as they turned and fled in every direction.
"Fly!"
"Fly!"
Any mage above three circles immediately cast the levitation spell and soared into the open sky. Knights, proud warriors who felt deep shame at the thought of deserting their post, stayed rooted in place. But the majority of mages—selfish to the core—chose safety over honor. When danger loomed, they simply took to the air alone and left the rest to die.
Yet the wall itself had become a slaughterhouse the moment six- and seven-circle high mages joined the escape.
Soldiers and knights alike scattered in every direction, but the monsters raced forward without any trace of fear or hesitation, black smoke billowing from every pore of their bodies. Somehow, they still knew exactly which way to go.
"Uwaaaah! It burns!"
Knights and soldiers who touched the dark smoke began to collapse one by one. Moments later they rose again as members of the Dark Army.
"Such terrifying monsters exist?"
"How in the world could anyone even manufacture something like this?"
Up in the sky, the mages’ natural curiosity burned hotter than any fear. They watched in stunned silence as knights turned into Dark Knights, mages became Black Mages, and ordinary civilians were twisted into the Dark Army without explanation.
"What kind of technique could possibly convert someone’s own inner energy into nothing but darkness?"
They could not fathom it. No matter how hard they thought, the answer refused to appear. The only logical conclusion was that the dark smoke itself was the culprit. Their curiosity, once a harmless habit of mages, now consumed them entirely.
But staying here was impossible. Tens of thousands of undead were already pouring over the wall, and if every single civilian became part of the Dark Army, no one would survive.
Curiosity could wait. The mages had decided to destroy the monster right here.
"Mysterious Blast! Arcane Burst!"
"Lightning Spear!"
"Fireball!"
"Explosion!"
"Flame Cannon!"
The combined barrage of magic slammed into the grotesque creature. Arcane Burst, the signature seven-circle spell, struck hardest. The monster let out a pained howl… then detonated in a thunderous explosion.
"What…?"
"No way!"
Kwaaang!
Black smoke exploded outward in every direction. The mages frantically threw up shields and defensive spells to protect themselves. But then the horde of undead beneath the wall began to swarm again.
"Uwaah!"
Large undead hurled entire legions of the small fry at the shields. Even low-level mages staggered as the impact rattled their defenses.
They were not the only ones in the crosshairs.
"Fireball!"
"Curse Explosion!!!"
"Prepare yourselves! Curse Explosion!!!"
Former colleagues who had fallen to the smoke were now Black Mages. Their attacks were far more devastating than ordinary magic, and they hurled Curse Explosion—a five-circle black spell—straight at the floating mages’ shields.
"Kyaaah!"
"Uwaaaah!"
Even the highest-tier mages cracked. All but the six- and seven-circle veterans began vomiting blood and screaming. Those who touched the smoke convulsed and transformed into Black Mages just like their former friends.
"W-we have to run!"
Even the seven-circle mage saw the horror unfolding below and made his choice. Safety first. The families of the soldiers inside the fortress were none of his concern. Besides, he was unmarried.
But the smoke had already reached the wall.
"Trying to run away and save only yourself? How cowardly!"
Sword Masters who had been touched by the smoke became Dark Knights. They launched themselves into the air, blades blazing with Oral Blade, and assaulted the seven-circle mage.
"No!"
The mage’s ultimate defense was Prismatic Barrier, an upgraded seven-circle wall made of seven overlapping shields. It not only blocked attacks but also reflected damage back at the enemy. It was the pinnacle of defensive magic.
But five Sword Masters were charging at once.
Kwaaang!
"Kyaaaaah!"
The barrier shattered in an instant. The mage tried to flee, but the Sword Masters’ coordinated barrage of Oral Blade was faster than his escape spell.
"Wind! Wind!"
"Wind!"
Countless Black Mages hurled Wind magic at the disintegrating barrier. The moment it collapsed, the Sword Masters finished the job, slamming the mage into the black smoke.
"Kyyyyeeeeeh!"
The seven-circle mage felt his inner mana being forcibly overwritten by demonic energy. The change was not expulsion—it was complete conversion. His own power was being remade into something far darker and far stronger.
'This… this is at least ten circles or higher…'
Only a ten-circle or higher spell could rewrite the very nature of one’s inner energy. And that was exactly what had happened. The black magic that now coursed through his veins had turned him into a slave of the Demon King with zero resistance.
"Kuuu…"
Minutes later, the same fate claimed him. The few soldiers who had not yet fallen on the wall also joined the Dark Army, their eyes glowing with demonic energy.
The Demon King desires to turn the Intermediate World into a hell where parents kill their children, children kill their parents, sons rape their mothers, and fathers rape their daughters.
That was part of the speech the Demon King had delivered to the demon lords five days earlier, before descending into the Intermediate World.
To carry out that prophecy, the twenty-thousand-strong human army—now all members of the Dark Army—began marching toward the second wall, joining forces with the remaining thirty thousand undead.
This was the civilian district where the soldiers’ families lived.
***
Jane was fifteen years old and the daughter of a soldier stationed here. Her father had once been a farmer, but the national policy reclassified him as a soldier. As a result, the family had been transferred to this fortress village. At first they had felt out of place, but they quickly adapted and were now living as part of the larger civilian community inside the stronghold.
When the undead horde arrived and battle broke out, the villagers inside the fortress received the news.
Everyone prayed desperately to Astraia, begging the goddess to protect their fathers, sons, husbands, brothers, and younger brothers so they could return home safe.
By the time the fighting had lasted for a while, the twenty-thousand-strong human army—now part of the Dark Army—entered the village. The civilians, who had initially felt relieved, suddenly looked confused as the knights ordered them to gather without exception. Because this was the frontline, the civilians had no choice but to obey.
Jane held her mother’s hand and watched from the edge of the crowd.
Her mother, Karen, was an undeniable beauty. Jane had inherited the same striking features and knew she looked just as beautiful.
"Ah, Dad’s here."
Jane spotted her father among the soldiers and waved happily. Her father smiled back the moment their eyes met.
At that moment, Jane had no idea what horror was about to unfold.
After thirty minutes of waiting, the knight finally spoke.
"From now on, all women gather on the right side, and all men gather on the left!"
The villagers, who had undergone this exact drill many times before, formed their lines without hesitation. This was the frontline; they had long since learned to follow any order instantly in case of evacuation or self-defense. Children had been taught the same rules.
Most of the men here were soldiers, so the crowd was overwhelmingly female.
The knights then issued a second directive.
"Girls whose fathers serve as soldiers—move further right. Women whose husbands serve as soldiers—move to the back. Women whose children serve as soldiers—move forward."
At first the women looked confused, but they obeyed without question. Jane had to separate from her mother.
Karen moved to the back, and Jane followed the order, moving right.
Once the groups were separated, the knight declared:
"From now on, the virgin-opening ceremony for the daughters of soldiers will begin. It is a great honor that the daughters’ own fathers will perform the ritual. Mothers, please watch with pious hearts, thanking the great Demon King and all the demon lords he serves."
At first there was silence, then a wave of murmurs. The declaration had caused chaos. Many women could not accept what they were hearing.
"Kyahaaaak!"
"Daddy! Why?! Don’t do this!"
"No! Daddy!"
The cries that followed were those of the daughters. Among them was Jane’s own.
Just moments ago her father had been waving and smiling. Now he was lifting her skirt and trying to rip off her panties. Jane screamed and struggled desperately, but he slapped her cheek hard. The sting made her head snap to the side as she cried out, "Aaaah!"
The true nature of the Demon King—the hell he wanted to create in the Intermediate World—had begun to unfold right before her eyes.