Deep into the night, within the Demon King’s palace.

Dorothy sat by the bedside, gently stroking the sleeping face of her two-year-old child. A trace of tears glistened at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

Her whispered apology carried her thoughts far back in time.

…

Over twenty years ago, she had been an exemplary youth on a planet called Blue Star. A sudden accident transported her to this world of Heroes and Demon Kings, where she was reborn as a baby girl.

Her name was Dorothy Christine. Raised in an orphanage, she blossomed at fifteen with breathtaking beauty.

Her silvery hair flowed like liquid moonlight. Golden eyes, clear as a mountain lake, held an air of noble grace. She resembled nothing so much as a pure white lily in full bloom.

When interacting with others, a gentle smile always graced her exquisite features—warm as spring sunshine, utterly captivating.

Like many transmigrated protagonists, she possessed not just beauty, but extraordinary talent for cultivation.

At eighteen, she earned the recognition of the Holy Sword Megaphis. She became the strongest Hero, bearing the title: Silver Blossom Sword Maiden.

A Hero’s duty was to slay the Demon King. At the world’s plea, she formed a Hero’s party. They crushed everything in their path, storming deep into Demon territory until they stood before the legendary Demon King herself.

Dorothy had expected smooth sailing. Reality struck her like a slap.

“Drop your sword,” the Demon King commanded, lifting a red-haired girl by her slender neck. A cruel smile played on her lips. Behind her, the other two Heroes of Dorothy’s party lay unconscious on the ground, gravely wounded.

“No… don’t listen… she’s lying…” The red-haired girl choked out the words before the Demon King’s fingers tightened. Her face twisted in pain, silencing her.

Dorothy stared blankly. Her Holy Sword clattered to the floor.

She had lost.

Surprisingly, the Demon King kept her word. She released Dorothy’s teammates but imprisoned Dorothy herself.

Chains bound Dorothy’s limbs to a pristine white bed. A black blindfold covered her eyes. Fear spread like wildfire in her chest.

What fate awaited a captured Hero was no mystery.

*Clack… clack… clack…*

High heels echoed in the empty room, growing louder. Dorothy instinctively shrank back, but the cold chains jingled sharply, restricting her movement.

The footsteps stopped beside her. Her breath hitched with tension.

The blindfold was ripped away. Light stabbed Dorothy’s eyes. Blinking rapidly, she saw her visitor.

Demon Queen Sophia.

Clad in an elegant black gown, Sophia revealed a graceful neck and delicate collarbones. The fabric shimmered like liquid shadow, complementing her slender, pale thighs.

Her beauty was bewitching—a siren tempting mortals to ruin. Those crimson eyes held lethal allure, capable of making anyone fall headlong.

But Dorothy knew: anyone reaching for this rose would bleed out, meeting their end.

Recognizing Sophia, Dorothy turned her face away, silent.

She closed her eyes, refusing to witness the humiliation to come.

Yet the Demon King’s hand stroking her cheek still made her body tremble. Despair flooded her heart.

*Just pretend it’s a dog bite. Just a dog bite…*

As she repeated this mantra, Sophia’s voice cut through the silence.

“Dorothy… will you be my Queen?”

“…What?”

“Marry me.”

“Hah. Don’t waste your breath. I’m a Hero. I’d never wed a filthy, treacherous demon!” Dorothy spat the words coldly.

Fear and confusion warred within her, but she’d never yield to Sophia.

She was humanity’s strongest Hero. How could she marry her mortal enemy?

“A Hero?” Sophia didn’t seem angered. She merely murmured the words, then placed a soft palm on Dorothy’s forehead.

“What—what are you doing?!” Dorothy panicked as demonic energy seeped into her skin. Sophia’s lips curved into a soothing smile.

“Don’t be afraid, Dorothy. I’m only erasing some… troublesome memories you shouldn’t have.”

…

Five years later. A stormy night in the Demon King’s chambers.

Rain hammered against the floor-to-ceiling window, blurring the outside world. Dorothy, in a white dress, pressed her palm against the glass. Her warm breath fogged the pane.

“Dorothy, the new storybook’s here. Won’t you look?” Sophia’s voice came from behind. She sat on the sofa, waving a book. But Dorothy remained lost in the storm outside, unresponsive.

Rain-laden branches bent low. A bird burst through the mist, wings beating toward some unseen horizon.

A flash of silver lightning illuminated not just her face, but the yearning in her eyes.

“Sophia… I want to leave the palace. I want to see the outside world.”

Sophia set the book down and rose. “Not yet, Dorothy. Your illness isn’t cured. We must wait a little longer.”

*Again.*

Dorothy’s brow furrowed slightly.

“How much longer? I’ve waited five years. Why won’t you even let me step outside the palace?”

She remembered only these five years. Since waking, she’d lived here as the Demon Queen—Sophia’s wife.

Sophia claimed she’d suffered a great tragedy five years ago, losing all prior memories. The headaches that plagued her were remnants of that time.

“Soon. Just a little longer, my love. Once you’re healed, we’ll leave together. Anywhere you wish.” Sophia wrapped her arms around Dorothy from behind, whispering against her ear: “Even to human lands.”

“Human lands? You’re the Demon King! How reckless can you be?”

Dorothy bristled at the suggestion, ready to chide her as Queen—but a soft chuckle tickled her ear.

“What’s so funny?”

“You look so adorable when you worry about me.” Sophia pressed her cheek to Dorothy’s, cooing like soothing a child: “Anywhere you wish to go, I’ll follow. To me, being Demon King means nothing compared to you. So please… stop troubling yourself over this?”

“…As you wish.”

The sweet words flushed Dorothy’s cheeks. Breathing in Sophia’s familiar scent, she turned and kissed her cheek. Her worries melted away.

Sophia touched her damp cheek, stunned for a moment. Then she seized Dorothy’s wrist, pushing her onto the bed.

“H-hey! What are you—?”

“Stormy nights are perfect for sleeping~”

The next morning, rain still fell.

Dorothy opened her eyes to an empty bed. Sophia had already left.

Straightening her rumpled nightgown, she stretched and yawned. After changing clothes, she left to visit her and Sophia’s child.

Returning to the chamber, she picked up yesterday’s storybook from the sofa.

Sophia often sent maids with books to ease her loneliness in the palace. These tales were Dorothy’s only window to the outside world.

Flipping through the new book, one title caught her eye: *Chronicles of the Hero*.

Humans challenging the Demon King seemed utterly foolish.

Even she could crush them single-handedly.

Smiling faintly, she traced the intricate black Demonic Mark on her right hand—the symbol of her status as Demon Queen, the source of her power. Sophia had carved it herself, weaving love into every line.

“How utterly arrogant.”

She mocked the Heroes, turning pages until she reached the final one.

***Holy Sword Megaphis***

***Silver Blossom Sword Maiden***

The last page told the tale of the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden, accompanied by illustrations of the Holy Sword and the Hero herself.

***BOOM—!***

Thunder crashed outside. Staring at the portraits, a tidal wave of familiarity crashed over her.

*As if… as if I were her?*

Her head throbbed. She clutched her temples as fragmented memories surged—

Transmigration. Hero. Holy Sword…

Blurry scenes flashed: the orphanage, her vow to become a Hero…

Sweat glistened on her brow. Gasping for air, she scrambled to retrieve the fallen book.

“Sophia… liar…”

She wasn’t the Demon Queen. She was the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden. Humanity’s Hero!

The pain faded. Her true identity returned. Five years of memories with Sophia blurred, twisting into chaos.

…

Pulling herself back to the present, Dorothy gazed at her sleeping child. Tears welled again as she kissed the girl’s forehead.

“I’m sorry…”

Her daughter’s name was Celia. Adorable, with a tiny black butterfly-shaped birthmark behind her neck.

But after tonight, they would part.

These five years were a haunting dream. She couldn’t accept this life. Couldn’t stay for Celia’s sake.

She had to escape. Return to her true home.

One last, lingering look—searing Celia’s sweet face into her heart. Wiping her tears, Dorothy rose from the bedside.

That night, the palace plunged into chaos. The Demon Queen had vanished without a trace.