The Perfect Form of Love
The Demon King answered the hero’s words in a voice of deliberate calm. “We have one request.”
“What is it? Speak.”
In her mind, the things Belzebeuty had once told her rose up automatically. To seduce the man before her exactly as he desired, and through that seduction, make this formidable person’s body and heart completely hers. Though the method of shaking a man’s heart for the sake of gain did not sit well with her at all, the reluctance still lingered in her chest and gave her a faint hesitation.
Yet having witnessed the hero’s immense value through everything that had come before, the Demon King understood clearly that she must achieve this objective without fail. Steeling herself, she prepared to grant whatever the hero wanted.
The hero looked at her with a voice heavy with sincerity. However…
“Your Majesty the Demon King, could you swear upon the River Jordan that from this moment forward you will answer every question of mine with nothing but the truth?”
“…A question?”
It was a request quite different from what she had expected. Instead of the expressions of affection she had anticipated, he was asking her to speak the truth while invoking the name of the River Jordan—an oath that one would not lie. The Demon King felt a deep wave of doubt, yet she nodded all the same.
“If that is what you desire… We shall do so.”
Having already declared she would grant his wish, she could hardly refuse now no matter what he asked. In effect, the Demon King had promised the hero she would not lie.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Then… this humble one dares to ask.”
With those words the hero looked straight into both of her eyes. From the moment he had mentioned the River Jordan, an unshakeable resolve had radiated from him, and the Demon King began to feel a slight tension take hold.
Facing her, the hero asked in a voice filled with both gravity and earnest longing.
“Your Majesty… how do you truly feel about this humble one who stands before you—about me, the one named Elan Savior?”
“!...”
An utterly unexpected question, one that shook the very depths of her heart. For a single instant the Demon King’s expression froze solid as she hesitated over how to answer.
Having sworn upon the River Jordan, she could not lie. That the hero would pose such a question while invoking so solemn an oath was difficult to comprehend at first glance. Yet in that moment the Demon King understood exactly what lay hidden inside the hero’s heart.
‘For him to ask Us this here and now… it means the wounds he received from the hero party have not yet healed.’
Once a person has been hurt in their heart, they cannot help but feel fear at trusting someone again. In that light, the Demon King realized the hero was afraid even to accept goodwill from her. The fear of being abandoned once more. The worry that the tender sprout of trust growing inside him might be trampled again. It was the same reflex as an abused dog flinching when a hand is raised in front of it.
Feeling another surge of pity at that truth, the Demon King looked at the hero’s pitiful state—unable to accept even pure kindness—and once more felt a wave of compassion. At the same time, his demeanor reminded her of her own past self. Carefully, she chose the words she would speak.
Though national interest was certainly part of it, the empathy she felt for this pitiable man was genuine. If she could offer him words of comfort with that sincerity, it would not violate the oath of the River Jordan. So, as though gently embracing a frightened child who had grown anxious about receiving love, the Demon King spoke to the hero before her in a voice warm with tenderness.
“We are not certain whether Our expression is correct… but if We were to describe it.”
As she spoke, the Demon King felt her own cheeks begin to flush without her permission. Experiencing an emotion she seemed to have felt somewhere long ago, she looked at the hero standing before her and said,
“We suppose… you could be called a precious person.”
*
The Demon King holding my hand right in front of my eyes. The moment I saw her like that, my heart was seized by a thick, instinctive desire.
She was more beautiful than any woman I had ever seen. If I only wished it, I could truly possess her right now. I could steal her lips, ravish her body, and pour all the carnal lust writhing inside me into her.
That had been the deal between us, and having perfectly fulfilled the terms, I possessed every right to demand it. Yet… a critical realization in that instant pulled me out of my excitement and restored a measure of calm.
It was the trembling I felt at my fingertips. The Demon King’s hand was shaking ever so slightly, as if she held some reservation. Though she was trying her utmost to suppress it, the hesitation inside could not be completely hidden.
‘Is she… averse? The Demon King… to this situation right now?’
At first glance it might have been nothing more than a light tremor born of simple tension. But the moment I sensed that reluctance from her, I knew I had to confirm one thing without fail: how she truly saw me, and what her real feelings were as she held my hand.
‘Until now the Demon King has seemed to show me affection on the surface… but is that her true heart?’
A man and woman meet, come to know each other, and build their hearts together. They experience all sorts of things along the way, sometimes face hardship, yet they overcome it, hold each other’s hands, confirm their love, and in the end become one family and live happily ever after.
Pure love. The ordinary, clean love that people of the world imagine. A form of love as simple and transparent as water—common in a sense, yet for that very reason something worth yearning for and pursuing. The perfect shape of love, and the kind of love I ultimately wanted to have.
Yet at this moment a sudden doubt rose inside me: could the love I was trying to build right now truly be called pure love?
I was certain that my feelings for the Demon King were sincere. The affection I felt for her even now was crystal clear. The desire to do anything for her, to see her, to share love with her—those emotions were undoubtedly love.
Nevertheless, separate from my own heart, I felt the need to clarify one fact: what her true feelings were as she stood before me, and how she was truly accepting the current situation.
‘Perhaps the Demon King dislikes me but is forcing herself to do this out of a monarch’s sense of duty?’
I understood my own strategic value better than anyone. Against such value, even if she felt rejection in her heart she would have no choice but to accept it. As a result, I had begun to wonder whether she was simply enduring something she hated because of the contract.
‘No matter the contract… I cannot force a woman to do something she dislikes just to satisfy my own greed.’
This was the act of sharing affection between man and woman. If it proceeded without any love, it would be no different from rape. Therefore, to obtain an honest answer from the Demon King before me, I had asked a question carrying the weight of this world’s most binding oath—the River Jordan—to learn the extent of her favor toward me.
And in response, the Demon King had blushed faintly and given me an answer that seemed to ease the anxiety in my heart.
“A precious person.”
*
Even as she spoke the words herself, the answer somehow made her feel a touch of embarrassment. The Demon King tasted the heat rising in her face for a moment, struggled to suppress it, and spoke to the hero before her.
“Th… then is that question all you desired? Of course, posing a question bound by the River Jordan to Us could be considered quite significant, yet it is still far from sufficient repayment for your achievements.”
No matter what, she could not let the hero who had delivered a victory that would echo through history be satisfied with a single answer. Regaining her composure once more, the Demon King addressed the hero in front of her.
“Now, speak quickly of what you desire. If it is something We can grant, We shall grant you anything.”
Her voice carried the dignity of a sovereign. At those words the hero’s face flushed slightly and he began to show signs of hesitation. Then, a moment later, the words that finally left the hero’s mouth after he seemed to have made up his mind were—
“Your Majesty… could you start as my lover?”
“!...”