Chapter Twelve: The Demon Race Grand Army

“You Demon Race planned this well.” Eli sat by the Abyss’s mouth, chewing a half apple like a crescent moon, and pointed at the ranks rolling inside like a dark tide.

“Tch, like I need your praise. Look who I am.” Edlyn straightened, pride unfurling like a crimson banner in the wind.

Eli laughed and scooped her up. “Alright, alright, Demonic Lord. I know you’re the fiercest mountain in the storm.”

Edlyn tilted her head, bit Eli’s apple, and frowned like pinched willow leaves. “If only we could march now. That’d be sweet as ripe fruit.”

“Maybe not. Your Demon Race isn’t a single steel slab right now.” Eli’s voice was calm as a shaded pool. “If you march now, the current could go sideways.”

“But the other races are just living their own quiet seasons.” Edlyn shot him a disdainful look like a cold blade catching sunlight. “The Elf Race still drowns in their lofty bloodline like swans in a mirror-lake. The dwarves don’t even have a real army.”

“Oh ho, little one, you know quite a bit.” Eli smiled, and tapped her small nose like touching a dewdrop on stone.

Edlyn flicked his hand away, then pulled down the arm holding the apple, and took another savage bite like a fox stealing winter fruit. “I rewound time to find you. Of course I know a lot.”

“Oh? Then when did you absorb the core of the cosmic explosion?” His tone was light, like wind over grass.

“At… at the moment Edlyn was born.” Edlyn pouted, gloom thick as a rain cloud.

“Oh-ho.” Eli chuckled, offered the apple again, and she bit like a tiny wolf with something to prove.

“If only I’d sent a few more scouts back then.” Edlyn sighed, breath thin as fog over a river.

“You humans look strong as mountain ranges,” she added, eyes sharp as icicles, “but you kept fighting yourselves over trifles. You’re clever, so you struggle to share a single helm.”

Eli couldn’t help himself. He dipped down and nipped the Demonic Lord’s cheek like a mischievous butterfly.

Edlyn just wiped her face with one hand, then went on, voice steady as midnight bells. “The Celestial Realm hasn’t sensed us. The beastfolk still get scorned like mud on silk. The prettier beastwomen and the sturdier beastmen are sold off like cattle, dragged as slaves.”

“Goblins don’t even know other races exist, more shut-in than the Elf Race, burrowed like moles. The Seafolk? Mostly low-wisdom blockheads, bobbing like driftwood.” She curled her lip, disdain sharp as salt.

“With your coalition such a soggy mess, how could you block my Demon Race’s grand army?” Edlyn’s laugh was a crack of flint. “Even if you formed a coalition then, it’d be a rabble, a gust of loose leaves.”

“That’s not quite fair.” Eli’s hands kneaded her back like steady waves easing a cliff. “Your Demon Race wasn’t a single wall either. Your Sovereign bloodline hadn’t truly awakened. Against other high-tier fiends, your bloodline suppression barely cast a shadow. Much less lead a Demon Race expeditionary corps.”

“Tch. You just don’t get it.” Edlyn’s gaze burned like a brazier at night. “Faced with the greater cause, those brutes would kneel to me without a second breath.”

“Don’t kid yourself.” Her pride rose like a thunderhead. “We Demon Race were born as a super race to oppose the Celestial God and Her envoys. Our foes weren’t your kind of featherweight.”

“Even if you joined the allied army, the demons you fought were just our small detachment—like scouts rippling ahead of the main flood.” She smiled, sly as a cat in candlelight. “If not for the Angels striking, our iron cavalry would’ve netted you all, one sweep, unified the world.”

“You’ve got your own Divine Envoy Special Unit. You know it.” Her tone snapped like a whip. “To divine envoys, other forces are useless refuse on the ground, worthless and foul. In frontal battle, it’s mostly our Demon Race units taking the field like hawks over sparrows.”

“Think about your odds back then.” Edlyn tilted her head, eyes gleaming like stars behind a veil. “Out of a hundred battles, if you win ten, that’s luck riding the wind. Fifty-fifty with us? Only if all our demon generals drop like frostbitten leaves.”

Eli arched a brow, his arms tightened like a ring of iron. Edlyn wriggled like a caught fish and found she couldn’t move. She went small with a guilty smile. “W-what are you doing?”

“Hey.” Eli smirked, eyes glinting like night rivers. “Your little mouth’s getting sharper by the day. I learned a trick elsewhere. Might use it on you often.”

“Eh? What trick?” Edlyn frowned, gaze thorny as briars, unhappy at her partner.

Eli lowered his head and kissed that tempting mouth, like tasting summer honey. He held it until the stars slowed, then parted, cradling the dazed, petite Demonic Lord against his chest. “See? I’m serious.”

“Y-you’re awful.” Edlyn bit down on her words, cheeks apple-red, voice soft as silk.

“Tsk. Ai-chan.” Eli’s lips twitched, throat worked like swallowing warm wine.

“Y-you—what are you after now?” Edlyn eyed him warily, like a cat watching a coiled snake.

“I want you.”

“Eh! We just… not long ago.”

“Not long ago isn’t now. Come on, sweetheart.”

“Uwah! Go away!”

…

“Ha… ha…” Edlyn’s breath dragged like wind over a spent field. “You always do this… Don’t you know draining the pond to net fish is bad?”

“Hey, that line should be mine to you.” Eli grinned, then dipped to rub her small nose like a cherry blossom petal. “Ever heard it? There are only exhausted oxen. No field ever gets worn out.”

“Mm… You—rogue.” Edlyn flushed, turned her head away, mood prickly as thistles.

Eli just smiled and hugged the little Demonic Lord. He said nothing further. He guided her to lie on his lap like a kitten on warm stone, and his hands kneaded her soreness like sun easing frost.

“Mm. Since you seem sincere, I’ll forgive you this time.” The little Demonic Lord hummed like a drowsy bird, sinking deeper, voice soft.

“Alright~ Thank you, my queen.” His tone was bright as morning bells.

“Hmph-hmph. Ah, right, that apple was great. Remember to pick more next time.” Edlyn turned, serious as a magistrate, eyes clear as springwater.

“Little foodie.” Eli shook his head with a smile, pinched her cheek like squeezing a peach.

“Do you agree or not?” Edlyn set her face stern, like a tiny general under a tall banner.

“Alright, alright. My queen’s word is law.”

“That’s more like it.” Edlyn turned back, legs swinging like willow catkins, happy as a lark.

“Hiss—Eli, too hard.” A stab of pain flashed across her back like a stray spark. She turned, irritated, glare sharp as a needle.

Eli swallowed, throat tight as a bowstring. “It’s nothing.”

“Hey, hey, look!” Edlyn tugged his sleeve like a child tugging a kite line, pointing ahead. “My Demon Race just stepped out of the Abyss!”

“Mm-hmm. Watching.” His eyes were on the horizon, river-dark.

“Liar! Where’s your hand? We just finished that and you’re at it again!”

“Heh-heh-heh. No, I’m… checking if your development’s normal.”

“I don’t want that, you jerk! Hands off!”

“Oho, your body’s developing nicely.”

“Scram, pervert!”

“Aiyo, we’re an old couple by now. Why the shyness?”

“Back off! Do that again and I’ll hit you!”

“Ah, Demonic Lord, your face is so red.”

“None of your business. You—mm… don’t pinch! Rogue!”

“Let me take a look.”

“Look at your big silly head!”

Eli was about to get his way when Edlyn slammed a headbutt into his forehead like a ram hitting a post.

“Get your head on straight!” Edlyn snarled, voice crackling like dry wood.

“Ah—ow, ow, ow!”

After a while—

“I was wrong, Ai-chan. Truly.” Eli knelt on the grass, face earnest as a monk at dawn.

Edlyn sat on a throne he’d crafted—a twin to the Demon King’s seat—her glance cold as winter glass.

Eli lowered his head, ‘guilt’ hanging on him like a heavy cloak.

“Tell me where you went wrong.”

“I… I went wrong…” Eli paused, mind blank as snow. How was he supposed to answer?

“Hmph! You don’t even know your fault, and you claim you were wrong!” Edlyn turned away, a swift swing like a bird leaving the branch.

“Heh-heh-heh, Ai-chan, look—your Demon Race set out.” Eli rushed the words like tossing pebbles into a pond.

“I already watched once. What’s the fuss?” Edlyn shot him a flat look, cool as a shaded hall.

“Really, I was wrong.” Eli gathered himself, voice steady as a low drum.

“Hmph. From now on, if I don’t permit it, you mustn’t… mustn’t do that.”

“What… which that?” Eli’s mind drifted for a heartbeat, then he blinked, puzzled.

“You dare repeat it!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t say.”

…

“Your Majesty the Demon King.” A fiend with a male-looking face led a unit and blocked Pandora’s path like a stone set in a stream.

Pandora’s patience thinned like paper. She eyed him with frost. “Laiyes, why are you always like this? I told you again and again—securing at least one place to live is vital, like securing fire in winter. If needed, send people in secret, let them slip into each race and set the stage.”

“I didn’t say charge straight at them.” Pandora’s voice was a blade wrapped in silk. “How do you see me? Do you take me for an unwise ruler?”

She pushed him aside, face cold as a glacier’s edge. “Step away.”

“Majesty.” Laiyes’s tone sagged like a wet rope. “Rushing headlong into all the races’ disputes is unwise. We don’t even have a rough measure of their strength. If our spies get exposed, the world’s experts might turn on our Demon Race like hawks on mice.”

“Please think twice.” Laiyes stood straight, earnest as a pillar.

“How bold you are.” Pandora smiled without warmth, like ice catching moonlight. Her gaze pinned him like a spear.

She lifted a hand, and the order fell like thunder. “Send word to the whole army. Move out at once. Advance to the locations the scouts reported. I want to see who dares stop my stride.”

She finished, then shot the male-faced fiend a hard look, sharp as a thrown knife.