Extra: If the One Who Transformed Back Then Was the Hero (Continued)

In that instant, the blue-gray soul sank into the body like mist into cold water.

The Hero pressed her lips, rubbed her eyes, and woke like a swimmer rising through dark waves.

Then she realized she was cradled against Pandora’s chest, like a lost bird held to a storm-warm cloak.

Hero: ...

Pandora stared into those pale-blue eyes, and he blinked like a cat facing sudden sun.

Joy surged like a spring flood, and he forgot his lines on the wind.

So he tugged a smile into place. “Yo, Hero, be a good girl and become my slave.”

“The hell—what a pervert!!” she snapped, anger popping like oil on fire.

She spun on a heel and slapped him like a whip.

Smack!

Phew! Utter humiliation, like mud on a crown! That damned Hero still slapped me at a time like that—infuriating!” Pandora covered the print on his cheek and glared at the gathered demon generals like a winter storm.

Beside him, a high Fiend with a broken horn like a snapped branch gave a helpless smile, stepped forward, and said, “Your Majesty, since the Hero’s subdued, breaking her in is only time, isn’t it?”

“That’s true.” Pandora rubbed his brow like smudging soot and said to the general before him, “Then, Angelo, got a method?”

Angelo bowed with formal grace, like a blade lowered to its sheath.

He hadn’t fallen yet; he was tall and handsome, androgynous by Demon standards but cut in a masculine mold like carved granite.

He thought a beat, then smiled. “How about this. Seize what the Hero holds dear, chain her to your orders, then plant the Demon Race’s slave sigil on her, and erode her mind step by step. How’s that?”

“Good! That’s you, all right.” Pandora praised him like thunder rolling away. “But... I haven’t inscribed a slave sigil in ages. Strategist, do you still recall the method?”

“Well... allow me to research it.” Angelo rubbed his chin like polishing stone, hesitated a beat, then spoke slowly.

Pandora pinched his brows, sighed with regret like wind through reeds. “Alas. I thought I’d conquer the Hero tonight. Turns out I must wait.”

Sensing the Demonic Lord’s sour mood, the generals dropped to one knee in unison. The crisp thud rolled like thunder, and the demon hall shivered.

Pandora set a hand on the armrest and propped his head like a statue at dusk. “All, though we captured the Hero, the Demon Race lost this battle. Return and reflect. Rally at once. Adjust morale. When ready, we strike again.”

“Our King will prevail!” The demons raised both hands like a forest of spears and shouted from the gut.

Pandora waved a hand like brushing ash, dismissing them, then rubbed his head, weary as a lantern at dawn.

Angelo’s eyes flicked like quicksilver, and a wicked smile bloomed. “Demonic Lord, actually, I’ve got another way.”

“Mm? Let’s hear it.” Pandora turned his head like a wolf catching a scent.

Angelo, all mystery, pulled a stack of small booklets from behind him. “Ahem. Demonic Lord, I gathered these during raids into human lands.”

“Huh??? I didn’t know you had this kind of hobby, Angelo,” Pandora said, like a fox catching feathers in his den.

“Ahem, ahem. Your Majesty, I’m seeking sparks for civilization’s fire. You can’t phrase it like that,” he said, grinning like a thief under moonlight.

“...You clutch a pile of dirty books and dress it up so grand. Hard work, Angelo. You’re truly my good vassal,” he said, dry as sand.

“Ahem. Many thanks for the praise, Your Majesty,” Angelo said with a bow like a reed.

“Damn it! I wasn’t praising you! Can you have a shred of shame?” Pandora snapped, words like pebbles flung at a pond.

“Ahem. Anyway... anyway, look here, Your Majesty,” Angelo said, pointing like a conductor in a storm.

“...Oh! What did I just see!” Pandora’s eyes flared like torches.

“Yeah. You didn’t expect it, right? Humans have so many ideas and games it’s hard to say aloud,” Angelo said, voice like velvet mischief.

“Then why the hell are you lugging ten kilos of smutty weeklies? You got a death wish?” Pandora barked, like a hawk dive-bombing a hare.

“Ahem, calm your fury, Your Majesty. This makes the Hero problem easy... and we don’t need a slave sigil. I know other sigils.” Angelo eyed Pandora with a wolfish grin like teeth in shadow.

Pandora’s face darkened like gathering rain. He wondered if his top general had a screw loose, like a cart missing a pin.

He kept producing this kind of filth, and shame never touched him, like water off slate.

Pandora stared at that crooked smile, then lashed out with a kick like a thunderbolt. Angelo sailed, books scattered like leaves; Pandora scooped them up and said coolly, “These, I confiscate.”

“Aaaah! Demonic Lord! Don’t! That’s my stash! I finally get to research reproduction! You can’t do this!” he cried, voice ragged like a crow at dawn.

“Scram!” Pandora snarled, kicking the words like a ball down a street.

Pandora shot him a scornful look like frost, then carried the books back to his chamber.

Angelo leaned on the door, face ashen like old paper.

When Pandora truly went far, he sprang up like a spring, straightened his clothes, and whistled his way off like a carefree wind.

You kidding me!

He was the Demon Race’s first general, Angelo, commanding tens of thousands like a tide, second only to the Demonic Lord.

His little stash would be only that little? As if, like a glacier’s tip.

Ha↑ ha↓ ha→ ha↓

Of course it was as much as a human kingdom’s treasury, piled like gold grain.

What the Demonic Lord seized? Just a splash, like rain off a roof—pfft.

Pandora, face odd as moonlight on water, burned the book he’d finished. He held his forehead, and only after a long breath recovered. “This... truly beyond my expectations. So effective, huh.”

“I’ll test it on the Hero tonight!” Pandora clenched his fists like iron and spoke with bright excitement.

“Where is this?” Eli lifted her head a little like a tired flower. She remembered slapping that guy, then blacking out like a falling curtain.

She looked around like a cornered deer and found her hands bound to a cross.

She blinked, fog still clinging like morning mist to her thoughts.

“Awake?” The stone wall before her split open like a stone flower, and a familiar figure walked in, slow as dusk.

“You... you!” Eli clenched her teeth like a blade and glared at him.

“You look in decent color, Miss Hero.” Pandora smiled, stepped up, and tipped Eli’s chin like lifting a lily.

“What’s going on?” Eli bit down and lowered her head like a storm cloud.

Pandora released her chin. “I’m having you fulfill your duty, Miss Hero,” he said, voice cool as shaded water.

“Du...ty?” Eli stared, confusion drifting like smoke.

Pandora smiled like a knife. “Forgot my curse? For generations, you’ll be my faithful servant.”

“In your dreams! Let me out!” Eli roared through gritted teeth like fire through bars.

“Seems you still don’t grasp your situation. No helping it. I’ll have to train you.” Pandora smiled, snapped his fingers, and long black tentacles uncoiled from the ground like vines, winding around Eli.

“Just in time, the Demon Race turned in some human books. Plenty of training methods inside, like thorns in a hedge.”

“You... you!” Eli stared in fury like lightning caged.

“Mm. You need a name. Let’s call you Yiyi.” Pandora gave a cold laugh, drew a collar from his storage like pulling night from a pocket, wrote Yiyi on it, pressed Eli’s head, and fastened it.

“Mmph!” Yiyi struggled like a hooked fish, trying to fling the thing from her neck.

Pandora shook his head like a slow bell and unfastened the other chains on Yiyi.

Deprived of support, Yiyi fell into Pandora’s arms like rain into a river.

Pandora lifted her, set a palm on her brow, and fed a pale violet power into Yiyi’s mind like smoke into glass. Yiyi’s eyes widened, and she thrashed.

Pandora smiled. “Now you’ll slowly lose the ability to wield holy aura. Be good and serve me.”

“Also, I studied plenty of your human tricks. I even conjured this toy. Let me give it a proper test,” he said, voice like a velvet rope.

“Ugh... you pervert!” she groaned, voice like a muffled drum.

A month passed like a petal drifting down a river.

“Master, your breakfast.” She stood around one-seventy, beauty glazed with cool light, a maid outfit tailored to a knife’s edge, long legs in black stockings, and neat chestnut hair like silk. This was the Hero after a month.

“Thanks.” Pandora took the breakfast Yiyi offered, set it by the desk like placing a stone on a map, and lifted only the coffee to sip slow.

Yiyi held the tray with both hands, feet pressed together like joined petals, and stood primly by Pandora’s side.

No helping it—this skirt was scandalously short, a blade of cloth over moonlight. One wrong move and she’d flash. It forced her to learn a lady’s walk.

Pandora smiled, set down the cup like a quiet bell, and turned to Yiyi. “Not bad. You’re very qualified now.”

“Thank you for the praise, Master.” The girl dipped her head, a faint blush blooming on her pretty face like dawn.

“Yiyi. Give me less than a week, and I might conquer the world.” Pandora tapped the map on his desk like drumming rain and smiled. “Got anything to say?”

They stood in the palace of Holy Paris, once the greatest human empire, a shell of splendor like a ruined star.

Visibly, Yiyi jolted like a struck string, then trembled all over. Pandora frowned, a sour ache rising like smoke, and he sighed in secret without saying more.

Tears pooled in Yiyi’s eyes like rain in a well. After a long beat, she pressed down grief and pain, forced a smile, and said, “S-sorry. I lost composure, Master. I... have nothing to say.”

“...Do you need to cry that hard? You’re my maid now. Everything about you centers on me, you know,” he said, voice like cold iron.

“I... I know.” Yiyi wiped her tears like salt off glass and pressed her lips.

Seeing her still like this, Pandora sighed like wind through pines, drew Yiyi into his arms, and patted her back gently until her shaking eased like ripples fading.

Pandora’s gaze went deep like a well, as if settling on a decision. He sighed again, touched Yiyi’s cheek, and said, “Yiyi. Will you trust me?”

“Of course I trust Master.” Yiyi sat on Pandora’s lap like a bird on a branch and wiped her tears.

Pandora cradled her head and kissed her forehead like a falling leaf. “I promise you this. If you willingly submit and be my Demon Race queen, I’ll refrain from harming other races’ interests.”

“Really?” Yiyi froze like a candle in still air.

“I’ve no need to lie to you.” Pandora wiped her tears, face still cold as stone, but the unrest inside beat like wings.

“Mn... I... agree,” she said, voice soft as moss.

Many years later, like rings growing in a tree.

“I’m a little excited...” Yiyi sat on a chair, stroked her rounded belly like a warm moon, and smiled.

Pandora walked over slowly like a tide, smiling. “How’s the child? Did anything hurt you?”

“No. I’m not that fragile yet,” Yiyi said with a smile like soft rain.

“Then, when shall we tour our lands?” Pandora held Yiyi lightly like cradling fireflies and spoke gently.

“Don’t rush. At least wait till the child is born,” she said, voice like a fan’s breeze.

“I can’t wait to show off my queen to them,” Pandora said with a smile like sunlight on steel.

The Demon Race governed well, doing little beyond taxes, like a quiet mill-wheel; yet inside, they still forged weapons, preparing to assault the Celestial Realm like storm clouds gathering.

Yiyi knew all this, but her scales now tipped toward Pandora like a leaf toward the sun.

“...So you’d really do this to me,” Eli said helplessly, looking at Edlyn like a cat at spilled milk.

Edlyn coughed twice and laughed. “Hey, hey. I can’t wait to see you in a maid outfit~” she said, eyes gleaming like stars.