Barungenia.

The demons there were in a frenzy of activity.

“Hey, you and you! Be careful not to break that wall!”

“Who stole my hammer?!”

“Move faster, come on!”

Goblin laborers were hard at work expanding the fortress. Managing it all was Damon—one of the former Four Generals of the Demon King.

“Why am I the one stuck with this…”

It was already torture enough being subjected to body-modification experiments under the pretext of "enhancement" from Lin and Goltche on a regular basis. Now even the Barungenia construction site had fallen under his responsibility.

“Being immortal sucks…”

A body that couldn’t rest even if it wanted to.

Beatrice had simply said, “You won’t die anyway, so just push yourself a bit.” He hadn’t been able to argue.

She now held real power in the Demon King’s domain. She’d had influence during the previous reign, but never this much authority.

At this point, she couldn’t even be considered on equal footing with the rest of the Four Generals.

“Damon.”

Beatrice appeared at just the right moment. She looked at him—who had been half-heartedly watching the workers—and spoke.

“Why are you supervising so lazily?”

“L-Lazily?!” Damon protested with genuine grievance, “I’ve been working nonstop without even having time to adjust to Barungenia. I was just catching my breath a little.”

“Hmm, I see.” Contrary to his expectation, Beatrice didn’t scold him, “Actually, I came to ask your opinion.”

She threw him a question instead.

“How many generals do you think we should appoint?”

“H-How many?”

“I’m already one but I will step down, so I’m wondering if we should pick just one more or two.”

Come to think of it, it wasn’t ideal to leave the other seats of the Four Generals vacant forever. Damon paused to think, then answered.

“It’s enough.”

“Hm?” Beatrice’s gaze narrowed, “You know, I, alone, have to oversee all of Barungenia? And also commander.”

“W-Well, of course it's tough for a commander to also handle the work of a general, but… to be honest, if you were removed, the prestige of the Four Generals would suffer.”

There was no one as powerful as Beatrice among the remaining generals. If she left the post and only new blood filled the seats, the overall strength of the Four Generals would drop.

“Besides, you know how it is. Without a hierarchy among us, there's always infighting. I think it’s best for you to stay as the ‘eldest’—the one who keeps the others in line.”

“Hmm…”

Beatrice gave a thoughtful look, then nodded.

“You have a point.”

Damon let out a sigh of relief.

“No way I’m taking on more responsibilities.”

If Beatrice stepped down, he might end up supervising the new generals. As one of the weaker members, that would be a nightmare—especially if one of them turned rebellious.

“Anyway, we should still recruit one.”

Beatrice looked around.

Barungenia was undergoing massive reinforcements to support Clay. Troops were being expanded, defenses bolstered.

“My job is to make sure everything is ready before he needs it.”

A soft smile touched her lips as she thought of Clay.

“Let’s send out the recruitment notice.”

♧

The goal was to lure out hidden powerhouses still lingering in the Demon Realm.

Even if demons were inherently aggressive, that didn’t necessarily mean they wandered out on their own. So Beatrice planned to bait them—by announcing the recruitment of a new general of the Demon King.

The growing prestige of the new Demon King had already caught the attention of many. Eventually, one curious, powerful demon took the bait.

This’ll be fun.

She was a dark elf. With pointed ears and an appearance similar to normal elves—yet entirely different in ancestry.

She was pure demon by origin, her skin a dark hue—a defining trait of her kind.

Finally, I’ll get to show them what I can do.

Dark Elf Renya.

Unlike other dark elves who preferred to live in shadows, Renya longed to step into the world.

And for good reason—she was a once-in-a-century prodigy. An expert in stealth and assassination, with a nimble body that held overwhelming strength.

She was a well-rounded combatant. Having never lost a duel in her life, her pride had grown sky-high.

Darkmoon Knights? Yeah, I heard of them…

She knew about the elite knights who served the Demon King.

But she wanted something greater. A seat among the Four Generals.

“Hoo…”

She exhaled, steadying her breath. She now stood in front of Barungenia’s massive wall, where candidates who had passed preliminary trials were gathering.

Finally, the world will know my name.

“This’ll be fun.”

“Kukuku…”

Amidst the strange and eccentric individuals gathering around, one figure caught her eye.

Huh?

White hair and white eyes.

A face that reminded her of a northern witch.

No way… is it?

Rumor had it that the Witch of the North had left Barungenia and returned to her homeland. There should’ve been no reason for her to show up here again.

“It seems everyone has arrived.”

After passing through the gates and reaching the inner courtyard of Barungenia Castle, a demon woman—who introduced herself as the chief handmaiden—flipped through a stack of documents and spoke.

“Only two of you will be allowed inside the castle today.”

It meant Beatrice would personally observe only the final match between the top two.

“Please follow me.”

Led by the chief handmaiden, the group descended into a vast underground arena. Bones were scattered everywhere—ominous, but no one flinched.

“Guess some of us are gonna die, huh~?”

A lizard-like beastkin demon flicked his tongue with a smirk. The others seemed to agree but showed no fear.

“No way it’ll be me.”

“The Four Generals seat is mine.”

Everyone wore confident expressions. Renya should’ve been the same. She was sure of her power.

Yet her face remained tense.

What the hell is with that woman…?

The white-haired woman standing off to the side, chuckling behind a hand, gave Renya a strange, uneasy feeling. She didn’t know what it was—but it was definitely ominous.

“Now then, I’ll announce the match-ups.”

The chief handmaiden informed everyone of their pairings. As she spoke, spectators began to arrive near the arena.

“A new general… this should be interesting.”

General Geshkafor, massive and armored to match sat himself in the front row.

Another figure dragged himself in behind him.

“Do I really have to supervise this too…”

General Damon. Unlike Geshkafor, he looked like a limp sheet of paper, but his strength was hidden beneath his frail exterior.

“Hm?”

While everyone’s eyes lit with anticipation, Geshkafor turned to glance in a direction—then his eyes widened.

“H-Huh?”

He looked shocked, then quickly turned his head, pretending not to notice.

What the…?

Renya couldn’t help but be curious.

What did he just see?

She turned to follow his line of sight, but found nothing unusual.

Wait…

No—there was one thing.

That white-haired woman.

She was the only one who stood out. Renya swallowed dryly.

No way…

Surely not someone that would make a Four General like Geshkafor flinch.

“Let the tournament begin!”

Before she could chase the thought further, the handmaiden signaled the start of the trials.

Those vying for the new general’s seat clashed fiercely.

The shockwaves shook the underground hall, despite everyone wearing artifact restraints that limited their magia output. They had to rely on martial skill, physical prowess, and raw instinct.

Huff… huff…

In the end, Renya was one of the last two standing.

And the other…

“You’re strong.”

It was the white-haired woman.

She smiled as Renya emerged from her battle.

Already done...?

The arena had been split in two so matches could run simultaneously. It wasn’t structured to favor anyone. Yet—

How…?

Renya was confident no one here outclassed her. But even with her abilities, the restraint of magia had made her fight far more exhausting than usual.

And yet, this woman was smiling. As if her match had been effortless.

“What’s your name?” Renya asked.

The woman pondered for a moment.

“Well, should I tell you? You’re just going home soon anyway.”

A clear provocation. Renya’s lip curled.

“Going home soon, huh?”

She let out a short laugh.

“You’re pretty full of yourself.”

“No reason not to be.”

The woman shrugged.

“Not that I’m going to explain why.”

As Renya instinctively clenched her fist, a powerful voice interrupted.

“Oh my, only two left?”

The pressure that washed over them was immense. Renya turned toward the source and saw a towering dragonoid with horns on her head.

Beatrice.

The head of Barungenia. The Demon King’s right hand. The closest being to power in the Demon Realm.

“…Huh?”

Renya momentarily forgot the insult she’d just taken. But what she heard next caught her completely off guard.

“What are you doing here?”

Beatrice spoke like she already knew the white-haired woman.

Renya turned—and saw.

The person Beatrice was addressing.

“The recruitment notice went out, didn’t it?”

The woman replied nonchalantly.

“I was just getting ready to return. Figured the Four Generals seat wasn’t a bad fit.”

“Didn’t Clay already tell you where someone like the Witch of the North truly belongs?”

The Witch of the North.

The words from Beatrice turned Renya pale.

That woman… is the Witch of the North?

A walking calamity.

Even with all her pride, Renya would never want to face someone like her.

She had already wiped out the northern Demon Realm once before.

And now she was standing here—smiling.

“Whatever goal Clay had in sending me away—I've fulfilled it.”

The woman said something Renya couldn’t understand, then turned her gaze.

“So now, I just need to go through the steps to return to his side.”

As Renya swallowed hard, the Witch of the North—Selimia—smiled sweetly while freezing the floor beneath her.

Cold, and burning with fervor.

(End of Chapter)

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