Blood Wedding (2)
Two hours later, Roin shuffled into the central hall of the royal palace. She was clad head to toe in heavy plate armor, a massive sword strapped to her waist.
"A demon realm raid? That's way too dangerous, little sis. Try not to go if you can help it."
"You're such a worrywart! What's there to fear with the Pink Dragon Knights going along? Demon realm subjugation! That's my sister for you! If you're gonna fight, go big!"
Int and Estial trailed behind her, bickering away. Roin wore Estial's favorite armor, the Berserker Plate, which changed form based on the user's rage—an invincible set said to be without equal. It consisted of a helmet shaped like a snarling black wolf and chest armor to match. Dark energy billowed from the shoulders, as if the armor might leap into battle on its own at any moment.
At her waist hung True Moon, the sword Int had specially procured for her. Sharp enough to slice the moon itself, yet light enough for Roin's strength to wield with ease. A chilling aura, like the cold breath of reapers, seeped from the blade's tip, dripping along the hilt without a guard.
"This armor Bro gave me looks just like the one from Berserk. Isn't that a copyright violation?"
"That sword you gave her is straight out of Bleach! Plagiarism!"
"Don't you know parody? Figures a dummy like you wouldn't."
"You probably don't even know what homage means!"
"Ooh, big word! You're just too lazy to make up new fantasy settings, so you stole it!"
"Watch your mouth! Or I'll smack you upside the head!"
"Whoa! That line's straight from Berserk! Total copyright violation!"
Roin grinned watching her two brothers squabble. She decided to think of it positively. It was all just brotherly love, right? Picking out cool stuff for their little sister.
Though, in the end, they both violated copyright anyway.
"Alright, everyone close your eyes. Red Sun."
A man with drowsy eyes donned a mart uniform. He was Slos, the travel guide. He gathered the full attention of the Pink Dragon Knights and began counting down.
"Three, two, one—go!"
He pulled a top from his pocket and spun it.
Thwack!
Spinnnnn...
The top hit the floor and kept spinning. It didn't topple. It spun on and on. And on.
Shhhhhhh...
Staring at the top, the surroundings slowly warped. The ground rose up, becoming walls, then ceiling...
<...And so the Pink Dragon Knights arrived in the demon realm>
"Huh? That's it? Just this one line for the scene transition?"
Roin looked around in confusion, but this was definitely the demon realm. The ground was jagged spikes of rock, scorching hot and belching sulfurous gas. Bubbling lava flowed in spots, and distant screams of agony echoed from afar.
"Wait, when did we even get here!?"
Roin protested, but none of the Pink Dragon Knights cared about such details. Slos, now sporting red horns on his head, flipped open his travel guidebook.
"Welcome to the demon realm 3-night, 4-day tour. I'm your guide demon, Slos. Everyone got their teleport visas? Passports out for checking."
"Feels like we're actually on vacation."
"Depending on how you act, I can be a demon... or an angel."
"Nah, you'll be a demon no matter what."
"No chit-chat! You're the sorriest tourists I've ever seen!"
"Hey, rude! And those lines sound familiar..."
"Local TV vibes! Loudest correct answer gets 100 points! Highest score wins free time tonight!"
"Wooooaaah!"
Suddenly, the entire Pink Dragon Knights roared at the top of their lungs. Roin barely plugged her ears in time, or her eardrums would've burst. Slos nodded in satisfaction, blood trickling from his ears.
"Alright, let's move. Keep an eye on the person behind you—no stragglers."
Slos led the Pink Dragon Knights across the burning wasteland. After a few minutes, the vast plain ended, and something massive loomed in the distance.
A castle. Crudely hewn from dark red rock, yet immense and sturdy.
Slos led them inside.
"This is the castle of the great demon Baron, ranked 12th overall in the demon realm. Keep quiet, everyone."
"Why are we here?" Roin asked.
Slos replied stiffly. "The Baron here is relatively lenient with humans. You can buy souvenirs."
"Ooh, souvenirs! Sounds fun. Not the time, but still."
Roin followed excitedly. When else would she visit the demon realm? Only if she won a mart raffle. Time to make it worth it.
Inside the castle, red paths and buildings stretched endlessly. Inhabitants were all hulking brutes or terrifying demons. Slos led them into a grim red building.
"This is the souvenir shop. Even here, the gift industry for humans is booming these days. A total blue ocean."
Slos opened the door.
Splat!
Blood sprayed out. A demon's severed head rolled across the floor.
"Too expensive! Discount it!"
"I'll discount your lifespan anytime!"
The owner and customer swung axes at each other. Failed hagglers' limbs littered the shelves.
"Blue ocean? More like red ocean..."
"Death's common here. It's even a local specialty. Gehahaha! Love the slaughter! Ah, wish human-demon exchanges ramped up!"
"...Yeah, humans won't buy this."
Roin peeked around. Bizarre items everywhere: dried hands, necklaces of teeth, eyeballs swimming in jars...
Diablo approached with something—a helmet made from a human skull.
"Heh! Check this! Cool headgear, right?"
"That's not headgear; that's someone's actual head."
The Pink Dragon Knights (minus Roin) ogled the exotic wares.
"Snap out of it! Remember why we're here!?"
Roin stepped toward Cliche, mouth agape. Then—thud—she bumped into someone.
"Ah, sorry."
Roin bowed to the hulking man. She missed Slos paling beside her.
"Huh?"
The giant scowled. Purple skin, ten blue eyes, mouth torn to his ears with thousands of razor teeth. The castle lord himself—Great Demon Baron Nesher, ranked 12th in the Myriad Demon War!
Nesher adjusted his suit, all ten eyes gleaming.
"My clothes are wrinkled."
"Sorry. I'll compensate you."
"No need. Human blood irons wrinkles best."
Nesher extended a scythe-like hand toward Roin.
"No questions—just your blood will do."
"Kyaaak!"
No time to scream. Clack! Someone grabbed his wrist.
Nesher's ten eyes narrowed. A pink-haired boy stood between him and Roin.
"Nesher Baron?"
"...Who're you?"
"Cliche. Don't we know each other?"
"First time seeing you. That flashy pink hair's unforgettable."
"Nah, we've met. You live in a ravine or something?"
"What? This is my home—my castle."
"You look familiar... Feels like catching you gives a nice buff."
"...?"
Both tilted their heads.
"Insolent human... Planning to hold my wrist forever?"
Nesher's face darkened. Slos blanched further. Nesher was a top demon—strong enough for 12th in the brutal Myriad Demon War, where 10,000 fought. One snarl, and thousands of kilometers drowned in blood. Absolute here.
"Ah... Like a candle burning itself to light the way... Mother loved me. Closing my eyes, I see her face. Everyone, go home and tell your mothers you love them."
Slos closed his eyes, reciting his last words. Offending Nesher meant death for all.
......
But...?
Crunch!
Sweat beaded on Nesher's forehead. Veins bulged like ropes on his wrist.
Crunch! Crunch!
Sweat soaked the floor. Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
Yet Cliche's grip held firm, no matter how Nesher yanked.
"Damn, hand's slippery."
Nesher wiped his pushing hand on his clothes.
"Hiyah!"
Another pull—his feet just skidded.
"Cursed slippery floor."
He kicked off his shoes, planted bare feet on the rough ground, and heaved.
Meanwhile...
"......"
Cliche stared blankly.
"Grrrrr......"
Nesher braced both arms on Cliche's chest, yanked with pillar-wrapped hands. Still, Cliche didn't budge.
"Raaaaagh!"
Nesher's mana exploded! Full power, beyond even Myriad Demon War frenzy.
Crack—crack—snap! Boom!
A grand pillar crumbled in his grip.
"......"
Cliche unmoved. Nesher's wrist unchanged—now bruised blue. The breaking sounds? His own bones.
"Kuh!"
Desperate, Nesher resorted to the forbidden ultimate technique. Taboo even for demons. Never attempted, unthinkable horror.
"Hoo..."
He closed all ten eyes, deep breath. Bubbling from deep swamp depths rumbled in his throat—slow, eerie.
"Ah, my bad. Mind letting go?"
It was 'sorry'.
A few hours later, Nesher sat chummily with the Pink Dragon Knights, sipping oolong tea. Surprisingly affable, he'd bonded quick.
"Ah, just wanted a drop of Roin's blood? That's all?"
"Sheesh, Cliche. I'm not that evil~ Kill tourists in my castle? Ruins the ratings. Human reviews are scary these days."
Nesher was the mood maker. Fierce looks, but teddy-bear personality.
"So, back at the last Myriad Demon War in LA, I took 12th. See this trophy? The winner was..."
His ramble flowed until Cliche raised a hand.
"But as castle lord, why're you in a souvenir shop?"
"Demon princess's wedding in a few days. Gift shopping."
The Knights' eyes widened.
"Princess... Sseubuljang~~ Unicef-chan~~?"
"Beep! Unicef called Great Demon King 'Dad.' Ergo, princess."
"Heh! But... marriage? That showy ritual tying vows?"
Nesher nodded.
"Yep. Great Demon King's daughter Unicef's tying the knot. You here for it?"
"......"
Silence. Cliche tilted his head.
"Marriage is good, right? Shouldn't we bless it?"
"Sseu... bul... just... play... dumb... wedding... cash... gone~~"
"Beep! Attendance: 50k gold. Or 30k. Not close, so 30k."
"Heh! No money in, money out everywhere. Hate others' happiness—everyone couples up but me."
Roin shot up.
"No! Video-Unicef didn't wanna return! Gloomy lately—she wants out of this wedding!"
Cliche pondered, chin-stroked.
"Roin's got a point. Let's meet Unicef first."
Decision: Head to Great Demon King's castle.
Nesher worried. "You lost? Labyrinthine—humans lost years inside."
Cliche tugged AlphaGo's ear.
"Great Demon King Castle."
"Beep! Left in 500m. Many speed bumps."
AlphaGo's eyes flashed.
The Great Demon King's castle wasn't bleak. Modern interior, easy entry. Stylish molding, sash windows, manicured garden. Elegant classical music enveloped it softly.
"Kyaa~~ How much... per... pyeong...?"
"Heh. Real estate said about 200 million gold per pyeong."
"Beep! Volume calc. Roughly 500k pyeong."
Roin nearly fainted in the courtyard. Pricier than prime Midland capital land.
"Sell this land, buy whole Rok Kingdom."
Even if Unicef stayed, who'd argue?
Meanwhile, Diablo eyed weapon piles: spears, swords, crossbows, maces, axes, saws, scythes, whips. Oil, gunpowder, poison stacked nearby.
"Heh! Pre-wedding house like a warzone? Not prep—war."
Nesher chuckled. "Demon weddings always end in brawls at start, middle, end. Under 10 dead? Boring. Princess's? At least 10k for prestige."
Helpful guide, demonic thoughts.
Finally, Nesher halted at a courtyard annex.
"This is as far for me. Good luck beyond."
Cliche waved bye. Now solo.
"Princess's quarters, huh."
Nesher's help got them here smooth. Ate two guards? Normal for visitors, anyway. Glad no issues.
Creeeak...
Cliche eased open the annex door. Bridal waiting room: white, ornate decor. Odd for demon realm, but whatever.
Center: large mirror, vanity. Someone in wedding dress sat, head bowed.
Unicef.