Impure Intentions
"Haa... hah..."
I catch my ragged breath and strain to recall my memories. But nothing comes to mind. Or rather, my head is such a tangled mess that it's impossible.
"What the...?"
My muscles, my skin, my blood—every drop feels alien, as if none of it belongs to me. It's as unfamiliar as the landscape stretching out before my eyes.
"Haa, haa..."
Despite that, I force my feet to move. Squelch.
"!"
Something sticky grabs at my steps. Blood. Cooled, blackened, viscous blood clings unpleasantly to my feet—no, my entire body.
"What?"
A question bubbles up through the murk in my mind.
...Unpleasant? Why do I find blood unpleasant?
'This is the blood of a sacrifice.'
Even in this dizzying chaos, my instincts as a demon remain sharp. Negative emotions are the source of my power. They intensify during rituals where something is offered as sacrifice. So I should welcome being drenched in blood like this.
"Urk!"
But it goes beyond unpleasant—it's downright nauseating, enough to make me dry-heave. Amid the confusion, the hybrid demon staggers.
I barely grab the wall and scan my surroundings.
'...This isn't home.'
Every direction looks like a fortress built of steel. Strange, intricate machines are attached to the walls here and there—things I've never seen back home.
The hybrid demon flinches as the thought lingers.
'...Home?'
I didn't immediately think of my homeland. Two words drift through my muddled mind: Demon Realm and Arcana Continent.
Ugh, my head feels like it's splitting open.
The moment I clutch my head in agony, a voice echoes.
"I don't hate sacrifices."
"...?"
The woman's voice is high and sticky. Captivating enough to sharpen my senses in an instant. No—it's more than alluring; it's bewitching.
But something's off. Emerging from the darkness is no woman, but a man.
"They're disgusting. I politely decline human blood, even if offered."
"...!"
A complex machine clinging to the steel wall—a CCTV. On the recording screen appears a demon.
Its appearance alone could inspire terror, straight out of every media depiction of demons.
Yet the hybrid demon swallows hard.
'...Beautiful.'
In that moment, anyone gazing upon that demon—regardless of their looks—would be entranced. Even another demon is no exception.
The demon speaks.
"Now you must be like me, Queen of Mongrels."
Queen of Mongrels.
"Urk!"
Those words jolt my foggy memories into motion.
Mongrel. That's what the Seven Great Evils of the Arcana Continent call demons from the Demon Realm, looking down on us.
And queen... referring to me, the sole female among the demon kings...
The hybrid demon recalls her past.
"Gre Mory...!"
Ranked 56th. Salmon-colored hair. Radiant skin. A demon king who could seduce even humans.
'Yes, I am Gre Mory.'
The realization hits, and her past flashes before her like a montage.
At the same time, she recognizes the demon before her.
"Lust, you bastard!!"
"You remember my name? I'll take that as a compliment."
"A compliment? To this body, to Gre Mory...?"
Gre Mory is a reigning queen. She should find compliments unwelcome, even humiliating.
Yet her body won't obey. The insult feels as sweet as a lover's whisper.
'Damn it...!'
It was all because of him.
Gre Mory hadn't been greedy. There was the black dark dragon, the empire's counterattack—the Arcana Continent was in turmoil. Above all, hadn't she witnessed even the heavenly demonic eye trembling in fear?
She'd sworn to stay out of sight. She'd even reused a human lord she'd toyed with for fun as a disguise, turning her Tearful Demon King's Castle into an ordinary human fortress.
What she wanted was a long, slender life as queen—not one where she overreached and got hunted.
But all her plans went awry.
"You dare deceive me?"
Lust. One of the Great Evils. Corrupted by the Sin of Lust.
Grind!
She wants to tear the bastard in front of her to shreds.
'I can do it.'
She still doesn't know why the blood disgusts her, but she can feel her body has grown stronger from the sacrifice.
Yet she can't.
"Want to kill me? If you could, you'd have fought desperately when I dragged you into the rift. But you didn't, did you? That blissful expression when I grabbed your hair... it's still fresh in my mind..."
"Shut up! Shut your mouth!"
"No, the one who needs to shut up is you."
Listen meekly to such humiliation?
The moment Gre Mory raises her nails, Lust continues.
"I saved you, Queen."
"...What?"
"It means every demon king except you and the Ten Thrones is dead. What else?"
Ten Thrones.
Excluding her foolish fathers and herself, all demon kings dead?
Unbelievable.
"...Is that true?"
"Of course."
"No way."
The first thought is the last survivor of Akshan. That guy.
The demon hunter who dropped the fourth throne, Gamigin, into hell. With that terrifying combat prowess and cruelty...
He could have hunted down the remaining demon kings.
But.
Gre Mory snaps sharply.
"Was I out that long? Nonsense."
As a demon king herself, she knows well. Demon kings aren't called kings of demons for nothing.
She presses on.
"They'd have hidden or begged to survive."
Even if the demon hunter had the ability, wiping out every demon king in short order would be impossible—even if Akshan revived.
Lust answers as if he'd been waiting.
"Spot on. You weren't out for even a day."
"So you were deceiving me...!"
"But the demon kings weren't hunted—they were devoured by the Omen."
"...Omen? Devoured?"
I can't make sense of it.
But Lust has no intention of explaining kindly.
Gre Mory, the demon king who escaped the Omen. Now it's clear.
"You really can't stay boxed in, Claudy."
"Can't stay boxed in? What are you talking about?"
"My blood flows in your veins."
"...Wh-what?!"
"Don't you feel the change? Dry-heaving at blood. It's clearly different from a mongrel's ingrained instincts. That's proof enough."
Lust mutters contentedly.
"As expected of Claudy."
Demon Realm demon, Gre Mory. Arcana Continent demon, Lust.
Mixing the blood of two utterly different demons created a hybrid.
The gamble of throwing herself into the rift paid off.
"And I rather like it."
This land is even more two-faced than the Arcana Continent.
Plausible on the surface. But rotting inside.
Above all, high-quality sacrifices called adventurers are easy to obtain.
He can declare it confidently: no better place to execute his plans.
Lust gazes coldly at the sprawled player corpses.
"Gre Mory, from now on, you'd best thrash about desperately."
"Thrash? Me? Why?"
"By now, Claudy... no, the mongrel won't understand. Fine. The last survivor of Akshan is tracking you. Don't waste the blood and life I gave you."
"...!"
Lust turns and vanishes.
'Even reconsidering, it's too much.'
A Claudy family survivor exists. And that Claudy joined Akshan, becoming its last survivor.
"Fate's joke has limits."
Shiver.
Just recalling it fills Lust with dread.
Yes, there was no choice but to take this gamble.
"Time to make a decision."
Otherwise, he'd be hunted soon. Lust knows it.
He discards his pride as a Great Evil, one of the Seven Deadly Sins of Lust.
A path opens.
The hybrid ritual... precisely.
'If I mix blood with an upper demon king.'
The chance to gain power rivaling the one bearing both Claudy and Akshan.
Of course, Gre Mory—the mere test subject—can't know that.
Gre Mory yells at Lust's retreating back.
"You damn bastard! Where the hell is this that I should struggle? If it were Arcana Continent, maybe... but adventurers' world? What the hell am I supposed to do in this wretched dump...!!"
"What else does hybrid mean?"
"?"
"The power you craved, mongrel. My authority."
"!"
Gre Mory's pupils dilate.
It wasn't anger at being called Queen of Mongrels.
Lust's authority. Even she, a demon king, had submitted to it.
It powerfully stimulates primal instincts.
If she could seize that seductive authority...?
Gre Mory murmurs, eyeing her blood-soaked body.
"...Might not be so bad?"
Color finally blooms on her face for the first time.
*
I stand before the mirror, adjusting my attire.
From my perspective as Lee Hoyeol, it's still overly elaborate and sharply creased, but humans are adaptable creatures—I'm getting used to this routine.
Flutter— Finally, I drape Dawn's Jacket over my shoulders and turn.
If asked whether I'm living up to Dawn's name this early in the morning, I couldn't argue.
Already swamped as it is, I've unwittingly shouldered another burden.
'I have to watch over them. Grand Sorcerer escort duty.'
Jessie Haynes and Mary.
Today marks the official start of the Grand Archmage class quest.
I haven't heard the specifics from Jessie yet, but if Mary chose the Zero Mountains as the site, it's definitely no walk in the park.
'Not just any class, but Grand Archmage.'
A league of its own.
Even the demon hunter class quest escalates to unimaginable difficulty in the late stages.
Of course, I'm not tagging along out of worry or nosiness. Absolutely not.
Whoosh—
I slip out of the office and gaze down the Mage Tower's stairs—endless stairs generated in real-time with every step.
Early dawn, so no one's around. Nothing obscures the view to the lowest floor, where the portal comes into sight immediately.
My top priority: that thing. The portal, precisely—modifying it.
● Grasp the origin of the Mage Tower. (Success)
● Track the unknown origin, Omen. (Failure)
● Pioneer a new solution. (In Progress)
Having glimpsed potential in Twilight Magic, it means finding a way to incorporate Twilight into the portal interference process.
'I was hoping to mooch it off someone.'
On my final day in the Arcana Continent, repeating mana exhaustion and recovery, I returned to reality with Mary's aid.
So I thought Mary could easily modify the Mage Tower's portal.
-"Exploration, interference, manifestation... So that's the foundation."
But after a brief chat, it seemed impossible.
To use a simple example, Twilight is primordial magic. More primal, and thus wildly intense—that's Twilight magic and mana.
So I got an estimate.
'Rather than Mary learning modern magic now.'
It'd be far quicker for me to master Twilight magic.
That's why, even amid my duties, I'm heading out at the crack of dawn to learn over her shoulder.
The early morning Mage Tower is silent.
Even Mage Tower mages are human—they need sleep.
Superhuman rather than human, so no need for sleep?
'There's a perfect counterexample to that.'
The cat Tower Master who naps all day long.
Of course, I'm an exception, tormented by the [Blessing of the First World Tree] effect. Sleep deprivation never fazes me; my body always stays in peak condition.
Thanks to that, I don't miss it.
"...!"
Scraaaape—!
The quiet dawn Mage Tower. A suspiciously moving presence.
No peace even at true dawn.
I swallow a sigh in an instant.
As chief, I can't ignore happenings in the Mage Tower.
"I trust you're prepared for the consequences of obstructing procedure from the start."
I move without hesitation.
The lowest floor where the presence stirred. Toward the Mage Tower basement's endless abyss.
Clack—