"Yo, Catling. Been waiting here alone for long?"
The brown-skinned, black-haired man approached. His muscles were rock-solid—neither grotesque nor exaggerated, yet unnaturally dense. His forearms and calves resembled those of a sturdy bull.
A massive stone broadsword was strapped to his broad back. His fur-woven tunic bared one shoulder, revealing a rugged yet clean-cut face beneath wild attire.
Unlike the girl who hid her ID, his name floated plainly above his head: *Knight Arlan*.
Despite that name, he’d chosen the "Barbarian" starter class—a twisted sense of humor, one might say.
Hearing that flippant, slightly raspy voice, Catling—the player known as "Sword Monk"—whipped her head around. Her eyes narrowed the moment she recognized him.
"Woah, scary vibes..." Knight Arlan flinched, sweat beading on his neck as he scratched his head with an awkward grin. "I’m not who you’re waiting for, but no need to glare like you’ll murder me. Though... the forums *are* buzzing. Folks are betting how many times you’ll kill the latecomer. Most votes say ‘beaten to death with a plain weapon’."
He shrugged casually, trying to lighten the mood.
Catling exhaled sharply, turning away with clear impatience. She had no intention of humoring his act.
Arlan sighed, dropping the pretense. His next words were blunt:
"Guess you haven’t heard. That guy? He’s been missing for three days."
"! Wha—..."
Catling’s icy composure cracked. For the first time, shock flashed across her face. Arlan rubbed his neck, voice heavy:
"Last seen by his auntie Li. Weird thing is—he vanished without warning, but his game pod stayed active. They only found it empty yesterday. No clue where he went."
"How could..." Catling whispered, trembling slightly beneath her robe and chainmail. She pulled up the system menu, finger hovering over the logout button—until Arlan stopped her.
"Hold on. I get it. But the police are on it. They’ve checked everywhere he might be. We’re not pros. Best to wait for their report."
Her finger froze mid-air.
"...You’re right." She breathed out slowly, steadying herself. "Thanks for telling me. But you didn’t come just for this. What do you need?"
"Actually," Arlan relaxed visibly, shifting topics smoothly, "I want you for a quest. The Healing Saintess was kidnapped. The Church posted a reward: one holy artifact on loan, the title ‘Honorary Holy Knight,’ and a full set of armor engraved with sacred runes."
"Rumor says a bigshot from the Church infiltrated the Demon King’s Castle for a rescue op. But our trust rank with them’s too low—and without *him*, we can’t ID who it is."
"I took the quest. Need a team. Wanna join?" He grinned, eyes hopeful.
Catling hesitated. Worry for Baitong gnawed at her.
"I need to log off first. Confirm things myself before deciding."
"Also," she added, "I’ve never been to Demon territory. Can’t teleport there."
"No problem. Most of us haven’t either." Arlan waved it off. "We’ll slip into a merchant caravan heading into Demon lands. Three days’ travel to the capital."
"Three days..." Her finger rested on the logout key. "When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning. Gotta round up the others and prep."
"Got it. See you later."
She jabbed the button. Light flared—her body dissolved into particles.
"Later," Arlan called, waving with an easy smile.
***
11 PM. Night draped over the Demon King’s Castle. Ledyah descended into her familiar palace halls.
"Haaah~"
She folded her bone wings wreathed in spiritual flames, exhaling deeply—a wave of homecoming relief washing over her.
"Mmm... worn out from playing."
She stretched, her lithe figure arching. Her muscles ached from the long flight.
After parting with Noah, she and Crenina had tracked a bishop of the Abyssal Church to a border town hideout—and captured him alive.
The Abyssal Church: world’s parasites. Fanatics wielding abyssal power. More vile than soul-devouring demons. Enemies of all life on the continent—even the Demon King prioritized eradicating them.
Their corruption twisted living beings into abominations. No sane mind could tolerate such evil.
A bishop? High-value prey. Second only to the Church’s leaders, wielding grotesque, potent darkness.
Crenina had chased leads on a massive abyssal ritual. This bishop was her breakthrough.
She could beat him—but in his territory, escape was likely. So she’d sought the ultimate backup: the Demon King herself. A bishop *was* worth His attention.
Yet what she’d found upon returning...
"Welcome back, Your Majesty."
Astolfo stood waiting, bowing respectfully to the dust-streaked Demon King. He removed her cloak, helped her change—Ledyah instantly felt refreshed, fatigue melting away.
"Ahhh... bliss." She rolled her shoulders, oblivious to Astolfo’s troubled, awkward expression.
As usual, she headed for her chambers: a hot bath, then bed under her maids’ care.
She’d forgotten entirely who waited inside her castle.
"Hi~! Welcome home, my dear master~!"
The door burst open. Noah sprang out in a black-and-white maid dress, greeting her with a blossom-like smile. "Dinner first? Bath first? Or... *me* first?"
