The Demon King and the Witch-Queen

—This tale goes back more than a hundred years.

At that time, the continent was in a state of warring factions.

The year after humans and demons clashed, humans would fight humans, or demons would fight demons—it was such a tumultuous era.

Yet even in such times, there was a land unchanged from the present.

The "Witchlands".

Even back then, that land stood between human and demon territories, ruled by a single queen.

Her name was Sherah, the "Witch Queen".

 

 

One day.

A certain demon came to seek an audience with Sherah.

The Twin-Horn Clan. A clan that ruled a rather small territory within the demon lands.

"Gales. What business do you have with me today?"

"Your Majesty. Today, my clan's heir has been decided, and I wished to present him to you."

Sherah never involved herself in territorial disputes between humans and demons.

However, she was capricious, and offending her could invite unexpected calamity.

For that reason, the demons near the "Witchlands" never failed to pay their respects to Sherah.

Gales Grond, chieftain of the Twin-Horn Clan, faced Sherah in the Queen's Chamber.

He beckoned toward the entrance, calling forth his prized son.

"… Oh?"

What Sherah beheld was an unusual sight indeed.

A giant standing over 200 su tall. His skin was a lurid purple, covered by a simple tunic.

His body was powerfully muscled, his limbs thick as logs. His eyes were bloodshot white, his hair cropped short and black. On either side of his head grew the twisted, spiraling horns characteristic of the Twin-Horn Clan.

Standing before Sherah, the difference between them was like adult and child.

After all, Sherah's height barely reached 140 su, appearing to all the world like a young girl.

Her small frame was draped in black gossamer thin as angel's wings, her light brown skin visible through the fabric.

She let her long black hair hang unbound, lounging upon her throne while directing her provocative, crimson slitted eyes downward.

"How old are you?"

"I turn fourteen this year."

"Quite impressive. Remarkable indeed."

At only thirteen, he already possessed a physique surpassing his father's.

Sherah appraised him with an evaluating gaze and asked.

"What is your name?"

"Galdel Grond."

He answered with complete composure.

Galdel Grond—the man who would later be called the Demon King.

"Galdel, is it. Very well, I shall remember it—Gales, this one will surely achieve greatness someday. Just a feeling of mine."

"Most gracious words. Truly an oracle from the Witch Queen herself."

Gales spoke humbly, but this was no mere flattery.

It was rare for Sherah to take a liking to anyone. In bad cases, it wasn't unusual for her to simply forget them entirely.

"If you wish, I could grant you a reward. Unfortunately, this country has little worth giving."

"Ha ha ha, surely you jest."

Sherah spoke playfully.

Of course, the only things of value in the "Witchlands" were plants useful for brewing. And those were useless to most demons anyway.

At that moment, Galdel, who had remained silent, spoke up.

"Lady Sherah."

"Yes, what is it?"

"There is something I would like to receive."

"Oh?"

Sherah rested her cheek on her hand atop the armrest.

Gales wore a puzzled expression but made no move to stop his son.

When Sherah narrowed her eyes invitingly, Galdel spoke.

"I wish to take you as my bride."

In that instant, Gales's world froze.

Sherah's smile deepened, her gaze growing ever sharper—her eyes held no mirth.

"Begone, boy—you're a hundred years too early. If you wish to make me yours, be prepared to offer me the entire continent."

"Y-you fool of a son!! Apologize to the Witch Queen at once—"

"Understood. I will come for you someday without fail."

Gales scrambled to make his son bow his head.

But Galdel paid him no heed, nodding with complete seriousness at Sherah's words before departing the Queen's Chamber.

The "Witch Queen" Sherah and the future "Demon King" Galdel—this was the beginning of their long entwined fates.

   

The incident occurred within just a few years.

"T-terrible news, Lady Sherah!!"

"What is all this commotion?"

The Queen's Chamber.

Sherah had her feet up on the throne's armrest, reading a book while lying down.

A witch came rushing in.

"W-well… it's war. War has broken out nearby."

"Calm yourself. There's no fool who would dare attack this country."

Sherah rose reluctantly and looked down at the witch. Long black hair like seaweed. Her name was Nero, if she recalled correctly.

She barely kept track of the people living in the "Witchlands". If they asked for help, she would lend a hand, but otherwise she left them be.

She didn't even consider herself responsible for them. To her, it was as if strangers had simply taken up residence in her garden without her noticing.

"—So, who started it this time?"

"The Twin-Horn Clan. Chieftain Gales has passed away."

"… Oh?"

Gales of the Twin-Horn Clan. She remembered him well, including his son.

He had been an unpleasant young man, but she had thought he might grow into someone with backbone. That was how Sherah remembered him.

"So he's passed on… Then the next chieftain would be Galdel. Is this war to avenge him?"

"No, actually…"

"It's not?"

Sherah tilted her head, somewhat surprised.

The witch nodded and hesitantly revealed the truth.

"Actually… it was Galdel who killed Gales."

"… What?"

"After killing Gales, Galdel took the position of chieftain. He slaughtered all subordinates who refused to follow him, and in that momentum, declared war on the surrounding clans. It seems he intends to bring the entire region under his control."

"… Hmm."

Sherah snorted softly—so he's gotten ahead of himself.

Galdel's martial prowess was surely considerable, but how far would it get him? At the very least, he had already mastered his own clan.

"… Lady Sherah, what should we do…?"

"Same as always. Leave them be."

"I-is that alright?"

"It's fine, it's fine. It won't affect this land anyway."

"… W-well, if that's the case, I'm relieved…"

Was it vanity to think that one of Galdel's objectives was probably Sherah herself?

'Be prepared to offer me the entire continent'—could he have taken those words seriously?

Conquering the entire continent would be extraordinarily difficult, even if a demon devoted their entire life to it.

Viewed that way, his hasty actions made sense.

Conclusion: in any case, there was absolutely no possibility of harm coming to the "Witchlands".

"So that's how it is. Could you inform the others—um, Nero, was it?"

"It's Nerin."

"Nerin, then."

Sherah nodded and said airily, "Very well, I'm counting on you, Nerin."

The witch—Nerin—turned away with a somewhat anxious look and left the Queen's Chamber.

"… Well, well."

Would it end as a fleeting flower blooming out of season?

Or would it bear some fruit?

Sherah intended to watch from afar with her usual long view—at least, that's what she thought at the time.

   

To put it simply, Galdel Grond was the real thing.

He possessed the true capacity of a "Demon King".

Galdel led his own clan—the Twin-Horn Clan—and invaded the territories of other clans one after another.

He crushed his enemies in the blink of an eye and succeeded in pacifying the surrounding region in just a few years.

Galdel, who had been nothing more than a clan chieftain, now commanded more than ten clans under his banner.

"What do you think, Sherah?"

"—What do you mean, 'what do I think?'"

Approximately five years since they first met.

Galdel, who had once been a nobody, came to the Queen's Chamber with power and achievements worthy of being called a king.

"This is my strength. Something my father, my grandfather, and all my ancestors could never achieve. Yet I accomplished it. Before long, my forces will sweep across the continent."

"—I won't deny it."

Sherah glanced at Galdel's figure.

Indeed, his appearance had become even more monstrous than before.

His height easily exceeded 250 su. The lurid purple skin, proud twin horns, and bloodshot white eyes remained unchanged.

His skin was covered by light armor that did nothing to hide his powerful muscles. On his back he wore a magnificent black cloak, and a jet-black beard now adorned his chin.

There was no trace of the youth he had once been—he was now a magnificent, imposing demon.

"Then, Sherah, submit to my banner. You know that would be the prudent choice. I will not disappoint you."

"I'm afraid I must decline."

"Why?"

Galdel asked without changing his expression.

Why wouldn't Sherah agree? He seemed genuinely unable to understand.

"I despise being ordered about by others. I cannot stand having what I do and how I do it decided for me. I go where I please, do what I please, sleep when I please, and wake when I please. That is the life I enjoy—in other words, my life as it is now."

"I won't constantly nag you with orders."

"If there truly were no restrictions, then there would be no reason for you to come here, would there?"

"… Mm."

Binding others. Placing them under his control. Forming contracts.

For Galdel, this was always natural, something he never consciously thought about.

Sherah curled the corner of her lips slightly and spoke with a provocative gaze.

"Besides, you've already taken wives, haven't you?"

"You knew?"

"You've married two clan women and still want more?"

"What's wrong with two becoming three?"

"You rascal…"

He truly had the temperament of a king.

For better or worse.

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't have said such suggestive things either. If you were that serious about it, then I must give you a serious answer too—I refuse. Is there anything else you wish to say?"

At this point, the reason Galdel had started this war was clear.

The era of chaos ignited for Sherah's sake had now spread across the entire demon territory.

Eventually, it wouldn't just be Galdel.

Others with the capacity to become Demon King would emerge.

When that happened, Galdel would no longer have reason to fixate on Sherah alone. The situation would demand his attention elsewhere.

"… If you insist, then so be it. I shall withdraw quietly for now."

Galdel said obediently and left the Queen's Chamber.

The magical power he emanated was considerable, but it most likely didn't match Sherah's. Galdel himself surely understood the gap in their abilities.

"Good grief… Well, he'll have his hands full from here on. I suppose I could at least cheer him on."

Looking back at what had started it all, Galdel had essentially plunged into the maelstrom of war because of Sherah.

She had no intention of taking responsibility, but she could at least offer encouragement. Her relationship with Galdel had already been settled.

Once she was just a spectator, there was no era more entertaining than this.

At this moment, Sherah was making a terrible mistake.

—Galdel had not given up on Sherah at all.

   

As time marched on, the competing factions steadily consolidated.

Just as Galdel had made his name in the western demon territory, powerful demons had built great forces in the east and north as well.

The clash of the three great powers.

Whoever conquered this war would bear the title of "Demon King", ruler of the entire demon territory.

At this pivotal moment in history, the "Witch Queen" Sherah was, of course, content to watch from on high.

It wasn't that she was playing favorites. She had no intention of supporting anyone, regardless of who won.

The reason was simple.

If Sherah intervened, whichever side she supported would inevitably win.

If the new Demon King and Sherah cooperated, his throne would become unshakeable.

That would be far too boring.

Making her already too-long life tedious was, for Sherah, tantamount to slow suicide.

And so, interested or not—

While listening to the situation reports the witches dutifully brought her, Sherah spent her days idly reading books.

"T-terrible news, Lady Sherah!!"

Then one day.

While Sherah was lying with her head resting on the throne's armrest, a witch came rushing into the Queen's Chamber.

Black hair as bushy as a ball of yarn.

"What's all this commotion?"

It felt like this had happened before.

Sherah experienced a slight sense of deja vu as she raised her head and looked over.

"This is no time for 'what'! It's finally been decided—who will become the Demon King!!"

"… Oh? That was sudden."

She had heard it had become a three-way stalemate—

Sherah curled her lips in amusement and asked.

"What, did someone reap the benefits while the others fought?"

"No, that's not what happened. Seeing that the western Galdel was too powerful, the northern Belis and the eastern Argomori formed a joint front—but Galdel crushed them head-on, and all their forces have submitted to him."

"Is that so? … He's finally done it."

The details were unclear, but the information the witches had provided had never been wrong.

In any case, she would inevitably learn the particulars soon enough.

Demon King Galdel Grond's triumph. It would surely be proclaimed far and wide. Tales of heroism she never asked for would reach her ears before long, of that there was no doubt.

"What a spectacular victory. No one will be able to challenge him after that."

"There was some minor resistance… but it's surely been suppressed by now. Along with the governance of each clan."

"Indeed."

Galdel's methods of rule were fundamentally sound.

—Divide and conquer.

He ranked the clans based on their performance in battle and treated them accordingly. Lower-ranked clans worked desperately to earn Galdel's approval and wouldn't hesitate to undermine other clans.

As a result, no one would turn against Galdel.

It was certainly authoritarian, but on the whole it could be considered competent governance.

"Lady Sherah, what will you do? I heard you and Lord Galdel are old acquaintances."

"Old acquaintances… not quite that much. Well, I do know him."

That child who was once small—not that he was ever particularly small.

In any case, a young man who had been nothing more than a chieftain's son had now unified the demon territory.

She couldn't help feeling somewhat moved.

"Let's see. Perhaps I'll send him a congratulatory letter."

"Is that all?"

"That should be plenty. Do you know how many years it's been since I last sent a letter?"

"… T-true enough. I've never even heard of Lady Sherah sending a letter… This is quite the occasion…!"

"Make up your mind whether you're surprised or mocking me… um, Nerin, was it?"

"It's Nero."

"Nero, then."

She nodded, feeling another strange sense of deja vu.

Now then, where did I put that stationery—just as Sherah was about to stand up.

"… Lady Sherah, is something the matter?"

Sherah didn't answer the witch's voice, instead instinctively looking down at the castle town from the window.

And just as she thought.

—The sound of marching boots she'd heard was no illusion.

"Nero, things might get a bit noisy. Go hide somewhere—"

"—Pardon the intrusion."

Before Sherah could finish, the doors to the Queen's Chamber were thrown open.

There, of course, stood he—the twin-horned, white-eyed Demon King.

With numerous demons at his side, he strode boldly into the Queen's Chamber.

"L-Lord Galdel…!?"

"No."

The witch blurted out in confusion.

The succubus standing beside Galdel corrected her.

"Who do you think this is? You will address him as 'Your Majesty the Demon King.'"

"So you've returned, Galdel."

Sherah completely ignored the succubus's words.

Even the haughty succubus was left speechless.

"It has been a while, Sherah."

"Indeed it has. So, what brings you here today—have you come to greet me on your ascension as Demon King?"

She said it knowing full well that couldn't be the case.

Galdel must have mountains of things to do right now. Greetings could come later.

And yet, he had deliberately visited the "Witchlands"—with his subordinates in tow.

This action could only mean one thing.

"Need I say it? I have come to take you."

Not 'come for you'—nothing so gentle as that.

Having become Demon King, Galdel intended to use his power to claim Sherah.

"You? … Do you really think you can match me?"

"Hmph. Let us put it to the test."

Sherah slowly turned to face Galdel and drew the vermilion spear that had been fastened behind her waist.

Galdel assumed no stance, simply thrusting his right arm out toward Sherah.

"Your Majesty! You needn't trouble yourself with such a little girl—we shall—"

"Stand back. You lot wouldn't even be worth discussing."

"… Y-Your Majesty…!!"

His retainers were stunned by Galdel's words.

But they couldn't disobey the Demon King's command. They quickly parted to either side, putting distance between themselves and Galdel.

"Come, Sherah. Show me your power."

"… Hmph."

Sherah snorted softly and drew a deep breath.

In an instant, she stepped forward and wound up.

"—Strike!!"

It was like a red meteor.

The crimson trajectory launched from her palm shot through the air, reaching the Demon King faster than sound itself.

—BOOM!!!

Like an explosion, the sound rang out as the vermilion spear struck Galdel's right arm dead-on.

"… Guh, oh…!!"

Galdel tried to catch it—his effort was utterly futile.

His right arm was blown clean off from the shoulder. Purple flesh, skin and sinew, and blood sprayed across the room.

"Hii…!!"

The Demon King's retainers recoiled in horror, eyes wide.

The vermilion spear continued without losing momentum, tracing an impossibly sharp arc back to Sherah's palm.

She caught it with a snap and readied it again.

"Your Majesty!!"

"Your injury…!"

"It's… not regenerating!?"

They voiced their shock one after another.

But Galdel merely waved his left arm lightly, repeating only, "Stand back."

Pressing lightly against his blown-off shoulder, he fixed his gaze on Sherah.

"Sherah."

"What is it? If that cooled your head, I might hear you out."

"You're holding back."

Galdel's words cut sharp. Sherah snorted and spun the spear in her hand.

He was right.

"Th-that was… holding back…?"

The Demon King's retainers found it hard to believe.

But Galdel declared with certainty.

"You could have killed me just now… Why didn't you?"

"Because it would be tedious."

Sherah said it bluntly.

At those words, the room fell silent as if doused with water.

"What would happen if I killed you now? Would you have us restart the era of war? I have absolutely no intention of taking responsibility for your death. So this is my warning. —Begone, boy. You're a thousand years too early."

"You're saying I'm not even worth killing?"

"Don't misunderstand. Nothing is worth killing."

Killing Galdel would certainly have meaning—enough meaning to stake a claim to the title of Demon King.

But Sherah absolutely did not want to become Demon King. She wanted nothing to do with ruling others or being ruled.

Living freely in her favorite little garden for her long remaining years—that was about all that suited her.

"I understand. As I am now, I cannot defeat you."

Galdel spoke with his characteristic bluntness, then turned away.

"Your Majesty!" his retainers cried out in concern. He paid them no mind, nor did he brush them off.

"But I will not give up, Sherah. One day my hand will reach you. You will certainly become mine. I have all the time in the world for that."

Arrogant, forthright, and endlessly persistent.

No matter how monstrous his appearance, his essence remained unchanged.

Galdel Grond was through and through—for better or worse—a man with the bearing of a king.

Sherah sighed deeply and spoke to his retreating back.

"Persistent men aren't popular, you know."

"That's why I take what I want."

   

Some time after the Demon King left, the army surrounding the ruined castle withdrew as well.

With wounds like those, he surely couldn't push himself for a while.

But once those wounds healed. Or when he regained his confidence.

Or—might the witches be put in danger?

"… L-Lady Sherah…"

"What are you doing playing around there, Nerin?"

"It's Nero."

"Nero, then."

The witch who had been hiding under the long table had completely lost the strength in her legs.

Sherah offered her hand and helped her up.

"Nero, there's something I've just decided."

"… W-what is it? To be honest, my head can't keep up anymore…?"

"I'm thinking of retiring."

"Aren't you already basically retired?"

"Well, yes, that's true."

Sherah nodded slightly.

But for it to be called retirement, her whereabouts were far too widely known.

And so Sherah told the witch of a plan. A plan to hide away in a place unknown to anyone, without telling a soul.

Of course, not immediately. Since the "Witchlands" would be left unattended, she could at least help the witches figure out what to do.

The witch sensed Sherah's resolve and spread the word to all the witches across the land.

Nearly half of them scattered throughout the demon territory, but the remaining half stayed in the "Witchlands".

Even without a ruler, this country was the land they had called home.

—The exact time of her disappearance was never made clear.

The Witch Queen Sherah vanished from the world like mist, coming to be known as the "Legendary Witch Queen Sherah".

In exchange for her existence, she became a figure of legend.

   

The Witch Queen Sherah had become a figure of legend—or so it should have been, but.

"How did it come to this…?"

On a tranquil night bathed in bright moonlight, Sherah grumbled as she climbed the stairs of the ruined castle. The cobblestones greeting their former mistress seemed somehow cold.

The master of this castle had long since ceased to be her.

Though she had so disliked troublesome matters, why had she gotten involved in cleaning up after the Demon King's death?

It must be because there was a sight she wanted to see, even if it meant dealing with trouble.

—'His last woman,' he called me.

Sherah chuckled softly, her throat rumbling with quiet laughter.

It was true that Yoal's passion had moved her at first. But what really drew Sherah in was surely that woman—Almaeira's masterful display of womanhood.

Thanks to Sherah's intervention, the chaos following the Demon King's death had already settled.

The Council of Lords had begun to run smoothly, and the need for Sherah to keep watch was fading.

All was right with the world.

Sherah stopped before the castle lord's bedchamber and peeked inside.

In the room were Yoal and Almaeira.

The two lay snuggled together on the bed. Yoal's hand gently stroked Almaeira's softly rounded belly.

When Yoal pressed his ear to her belly, Almaeira's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

"… Twenty years. All that training was worth it."

This was surely what Sherah had wanted to see.

A faint smile graced her lips as she thought.

—A small reward like this should be acceptable, shouldn't it?