The Awakening of Jimi the Cruel

Jimi the Cruel, the Demon Queen’s foremost Heavenly King, opened his eyes.

His gaze settled upon a pristine white ceiling, where a single line of blood-red Chinese characters proclaimed: “If you see this, your resurrection was successful.”

What… had happened?

Jimi the Cruel’s mind felt like an unfathomable void, and for a moment, he forgot who he was.

‘Right, resurrection… why was I resurrected… Oh, I wrote these words. Who am I? Jimi the Cruel? The nightmare of humanity? These aren’t demon characters… I… I remember now, I’m a transmigrator from Earth… but who exactly?’

His past memories had blurred into an indistinct muddle.

He lowered his gaze, continuing to read.

The blood-red Chinese characters stated: “Your resurrection means your assassination attempt on the Demon Queen failed…”

What?

“After resurrection, you must kill the Demon Queen. Otherwise, she can use the two enslavement rules embedded in your soul by the World Book to torment you anew. You know how she tortures traitors.”

Tortures traitors!

These four words seared themselves into his mind like a red-hot brand.

The memory of the Demon Queen forcing him to witness the entire process of a traitor’s torment now overwhelmed him.

The Demon Queen had summoned a group of Goblins, telling them:

“If you collectively connect with him, you can seize his power.”

With shrill cries, the Goblins swarmed the suspended traitor, engaging in the ‘ultimate humiliation.’ They exerted themselves with zealous fervor, truly believing they could snatch his power and escape their miserable destinies.

The spectacle was utterly repulsive, depraved, and drenched in gore. Even the other Heavenly Kings, let alone Jimi the Cruel, found it unbearable.

Yet, throughout the entire ordeal, the Demon Queen sat in a high-backed chair, chin resting on one hand, a smile gracing her lips as if appreciating a work of art.

Gradually, the ‘traitor’ perished.

The Demon Queen then commanded the Goblins to devour him, to absorb his strength.

She turned her head, her gaze lingering on Jimi the Cruel, assessing him from head to toe, her tongue slowly tracing her lips as she mused, “How wonderful it would be if you were the one being punished. You’d surely last a long, long time.”

“Ugh!”

A violent spasm seized Jimi the Cruel’s stomach. He bolted upright from the bed, twisting aside to retch violently, but nothing came up save for bitter bile searing his throat.

‘No, I can’t be like this. I can’t show weakness.’

Jimi the Cruel suppressed the urge to vomit, attempting to push himself up and say, “Your Majesty—”

But his arm suddenly gave way, and he crashed heavily to the floor. The impact jolted him fully awake.

‘That was just a memory, not reality. It happened a very, very long time ago.’

However, she would use the same methods against me, a traitor, or perhaps even worse…

This thought, a venomous serpent, coiled around Jimi the Cruel’s heart, tightening its grip relentlessly. He rolled onto his back, once more looking up at the ceiling.

The blood-red Chinese characters on the ceiling contained one final paragraph:

“Remember, if conditions permit, try to retrieve your original head. Power is hidden within it. Absorb that power and find a way to kill the Demon Queen. If the situation is dire, commit suicide early. A sacrificial dagger is on the bedside; suicide will be painless.

“If ‘Bird’s Claw,’ that malicious wish-granting machine, truly can fulfill resurrection wishes, then these words won’t have been written in vain. But remember, there will certainly be a price. Be mentally prepared.

“Finally, if you recover your memories, you will know the riddle to incinerate these words.”

Jimi the Cruel gripped the edge of the bed and stood up from the floor, feeling profoundly weak, yet a large portion of his memories had returned. He looked up and declared:

“Annihilate.”

The blood characters instantly ignited, transforming into countless specks of ash that drifted down, landing on the bedside—where a gleaming sacrificial dagger was plunged into the stone bed, its blade deeply embedded.

Jimi the Cruel reached for the sacrificial dagger.

His fair hand barely grasped the stout hilt of the dagger. The skin on the back of his hand was delicate, his five fingers slender, and his nails neatly trimmed and rounded.

‘Wait, something’s not right?’

Jimi the Cruel blinked, staring at his hand. He remembered his hands as massive, capable of crushing an adult’s skull with ease, yet now they couldn’t even fully grip the dagger’s hilt?

He brought the back of his hand closer to his eyes, examining it.

The skin was delicate, fair with a rosy tint, and faint blue veins showed beneath the surface.

He froze, his gaze moving upwards to see a slender, smooth forearm, ivory-hued, encased in a loose, sheer puff sleeve embroidered with golden patterns—altogether effeminate.

Jimi the Cruel was stunned: “What? Where’s my scale blessing? Where are my invulnerable scales?”

Yet, what escaped his lips was a clear, melodious female voice.

The once deep, hoarse voice that had struck terror into the hearts of his enemies was utterly gone. This new voice, he feared, would only incite a different kind of ‘interest’ in his foes.

A jolt ran through Jimi the Cruel. She lowered her gaze.

She saw a slight rise and fall in her chest; her once mighty pectoral muscles, capable of tearing through clothing, were gone. A leather corset cinched a slender waist, and a small green skirt covered half of her thighs.

Full, rosy thighs, so fair that blue veins were visible, extended from beneath the skirt, leading to rounded knees. Her calves disappeared into wide, knee-high boots with ruffled cuffs, making her legs appear even more slender.

She touched her face, encountering a pair of long ears, then immediately reached down between her legs. The sensation at her fingertips left her mind utterly blank. The familiar structure was gone, replaced by a warm, soft… form.

He, no, it should be she.

Even Jimi the Cruel, who had endured ten thousand battles, a thousand murders, and a hundred near-deaths, found her mind utterly stunned for a long moment.

‘How did I turn into an elven beauty? Wait, my power?’

She immediately raised a hand and whispered, “Annihilate.”

Nothing happened.

The demonic power that had once flowed through her like rivers and mountains was utterly gone, as were the numerous blessings bestowed by the four Demon Gods. Not even a shadow remained.

Now, she was merely an ordinary elven beauty.

“No!”

She cried out, rushing towards the room’s only full-length mirror. The mirror reflected the image of a silver-haired elven beauty.

Her silver hair cascaded to her waist, her long ears resembled freshly unfurled willow leaves, and her round, golden eyes, like those of a deer, framed a face that no man could easily forget.

She was beautiful, yes, but…

She looked at the blood-red plate armor prepped on the nearby armor stand. It was thick and massive; a single leg piece was wider than her waist, and it was draped with a terrifying skull cloak.

It could protect one from magic and blades, but her current self, with these delicate arms and long legs, couldn’t possibly wear it.

Still harboring a sliver of hope, she reached out and tried to lift a plate armor leg. The heavy leg piece pulled her hand down with such force that she couldn’t lift it at all.

Such a frail female body possessed no strength. Without strength, she couldn’t retrieve her head, and thus couldn’t recover her power. ‘No, I must return to my male body, but to do so, I must find my head…’

‘It’s over.’

The thought of falling into the Demon Queen’s hands, now reduced to an elven beauty, meant she would undoubtedly suffer ten times the agony of the ultimate humiliation.

She looked at the sacrificial dagger in her hand; its blade was sharp enough to easily cleave through ribs and a heart.

‘Perhaps it’s best to end this journey to another world forever. Damn this fate, damn this “Bird’s Claw”! I won’t play your games anymore.’

She reversed her grip on the dagger, aiming it at her chest. Just as the tip of the blade touched her rising bosom,

She flung the dagger with force, and it plunged entirely into the stone bed.

“No, there’s still hope. You want me to give up? Not a chance.”

No sooner had the words left her lips,

The stone door of the secret chamber abruptly swung open, revealing two towering demon warriors, each wielding a dripping battle-axe.

Their six eyes met, and both sides froze.

The two newcomers, with their four eyes, scrutinized the former Heavenly King Jimi, smiles spreading across their faces.

“Where’s Heavenly King Jimi? Not here?”

“Heavenly King Jimi, the traitor to the Demon Queen, certainly knows how to enjoy himself, keeping such a beautiful elven lover.”

She glared coldly at the two of them, then lunged towards the sacrificial dagger she had just thrown.

The Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior hurled a flying axe: “Thud!”

The axe blade embedded itself in the stone bed. Had she not reacted swiftly, the flying axe would have severed her hand.

She twisted her head, looking at the two demon warriors, her gaze settling on the dog collars around their necks. She remembered she once had a dog collar around her own neck, personally placed by the Demon Queen.

“Look at her cold, arrogant face, haha! Elf, you’ll be begging for mercy soon.”

“We’ll both have our way with her first. Once we’re tired, she’ll be useless, so we’ll just sacrifice her.”

“She doesn’t seem scared at all.”

“She probably doesn’t understand what we’re saying.”

The Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior strode forward, reaching for her chest: “She’ll understand soon enough.”

She remained still, then barked in the demon tongue, “Dogs! Kneel!”

The dog collars around their necks glowed. With two resounding thuds, both demon warriors’ knees buckled, and they collapsed to the ground, hands bracing themselves.

The demon warrior behind them cried out, “Impossible! How can you command us like our master, Heavenly King Jimi?”

“Only he could…” The Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior in front trembled, exclaiming, “Could it be that you are Heavenly King Jimi, resurrected as a long-legged elf?”

‘Why do those who believe in the Blue Bird Demon God always try to be so clever?’

She clenched her fist, and the dog collar around the Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior’s neck tightened, digging into his throat, making him unable to breathe.

“I am Heavenly King Jimi’s personal maidservant,” she said, releasing her grip. The Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior gasped for air. “Tell me the outcome of the battle in the throne room.”

The two demon warriors dared not delay, speaking one after another. After about ten minutes, she finally understood the situation.

Heavenly King Jimi’s assassination move, “Annihilate,” had caused structural damage to the Demon Queen’s palace, melting half of the spacious throne room’s walls.

Both the Hero and the Demon Queen had vanished.

Without the Demon Queen, the demons in the Demon Queen’s palace had descended into a free-for-all, vying to determine who was worthy of becoming a Demon Queen candidate.

“Find Heavenly King Jimi’s head and bring it here,” she commanded. “You know how to find it.”

The Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior said, “But our combined strength is probably insufficient, my master.”

‘They are testing how strong I am now.’

Without another word, she clenched her fist again, and the Blue Bird-Headed Demon Warrior once more struggled to breathe.

“My orders must be obeyed!”

“Yes!”

The two demon warriors stood up and immediately turned to leave, not even bothering to close the door.

She watched their figures vanish beyond the doorway, letting out a slight sigh of relief.

‘These two are my trump cards.’

Her power was sealed within her head and would not leak out for some time, making it difficult for other demons to detect. If all went well, these two ‘dogs’ could find her head early.

She would then have a chance to deal with the Demon Queen. However, the most urgent matter now was to escape this elven body, which was useless except for its beauty, and return to her male form.

Should something go wrong, and the head remain unrecovered, its power might eventually leak out, making it difficult for her to reabsorb, potentially trapping her in this frail body for eternity.

The thought of possibly never returning to her two-meter-tall, strong male body made her anxious.

Suddenly, exclamations echoed from outside the door:

“Who!”

“Ah!”

“Pfft!”

A blue bird head rolled through the doorway, still wearing the dog collar under her control.

Her face paled, and she cursed in her native tongue: “Damn this fate!”

…Was the trial period for these two ‘dogs’ really that short?