I Wish the Demon King Were My Daughter-in-Law
The first time I laid eyes on her, I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
Fiery red hair that seemed to burn like living flames. Blood-red eyes that glowed with an intensity no human could possess. And yet, despite all that, she looked at me with an expression so fragile it made my chest ache.
She was on her knees before me, the Demon King herself, defeated and at my mercy. The final battle had ended. The long war between humanity and the demon race was over. I, the hero who had been chosen by the Holy Sword, had finally brought an end to it all.
But as I stood there with my blade raised, ready to deliver the finishing blow, something inside me hesitated.
Why does she look so… lonely?
Her crimson eyes met mine. There was no hatred in them. No resentment. Only a quiet acceptance, as if she had been waiting for this moment for a very long time.
“Do it.”
Her voice was surprisingly soft. Almost gentle.
I tightened my grip on the Holy Sword. This was it. The moment I had trained for my entire life. The moment that would bring peace to the world.
But my arms wouldn’t move.
Instead, I heard myself speaking words I never thought I’d say.
“…I won’t kill you.”
Her eyes widened slightly. For the first time, something like surprise flickered across that majestic face.
“What?”
“I said I won’t kill you.” I lowered my sword. “There’s been enough death. The war is over. Go back to the Demon Realm and live however you want. Just… don’t come back to hurt people again.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, the corners of her lips curved into the faintest smile.
“You’re strange, hero.”
That was the last thing she said before vanishing into a swirl of dark magic. I stood there in the ruined throne room, wondering if I had just made the biggest mistake of my life.
I never expected to see her again.
But life has a funny way of proving you wrong.
Three years later, I returned to my quiet hometown of Elver, ready to live out the rest of my days in peace. The hero’s duty was done. The world didn’t need me anymore. All I wanted was to take care of my mother, tend to our small farm, and maybe finally learn how to bake bread without burning it.
That dream lasted exactly one week.
“Roen, dear! Come meet our new neighbor!”
My mother’s cheerful voice called from the front yard. I wiped the flour from my hands and stepped outside, only to freeze in my tracks.
There she was.
The Demon King.
Standing in our garden like she belonged there, wearing a simple white dress and a bright smile that looked far too innocent for someone who once commanded legions of monsters. Her horns, wings, and tail were nowhere to be seen—hidden by some kind of transformation magic, no doubt. To any normal person, she would look like an exceptionally beautiful human woman with striking red hair.
But I knew better.
“This is Jupiter,” my mother said proudly, completely unaware of the apocalyptic threat standing three feet away from her. “She just moved into the old Miller house down the road. Isn’t she lovely?”
Lovely? Mother, that’s the woman I spared after I stabbed her through the chest with a holy sword. She’s literally the final boss of the entire story.
“It’s nice to meet you,” the Demon King—I mean, Jupiter—said sweetly, offering me her hand. Her blood-red eyes sparkled with unmistakable mischief. “I’ve heard so much about you, hero.”
I stared at her hand like it might bite me.
My mother elbowed me. “Roen! Don’t be rude!”
Swallowing hard, I took her hand. It was warm. Surprisingly soft. And the moment our skin touched, I felt a faint pulse of magic brush against my senses—like a secret shared between just the two of us.
“…Nice to meet you too,” I managed.
She smiled wider. “I hope we can be good neighbors. I’m planning to stay here for a long, long time.”
My mother clapped her hands together in delight. “Oh, that would be wonderful! Actually, I’ve been thinking… it would be so nice if you became my daughter-in-law, Jupiter. What do you think, Roen? Isn’t she perfect?”
“Mother!”
I nearly choked on my own spit.
The Demon King—Jupiter—tilted her head, looking at me with those crimson eyes that seemed to see right through me. Her voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear, sweet and teasing and utterly terrifying.
“Yes, Roen. What do you think?”
I could only stand there, flour still dusting my sleeves, as the woman I had once spared from death smiled at me like a cat that had finally caught the canary it had been chasing for years.
This was going to be a problem.
A very, very big problem.