The Demon Lord’s Grand Plan

“Why are you still running around at a time like this! Aren’t you worried about the chaos!” Village Chief Roan stood at the entrance of Green Village, herding a group of villagers who intended to flee back into their homes. “At a time like this, you should stay safely at home. Are those places outside truly safer than our village?”

“But, Village Chief… the Elven Defense Line has been breached by monsters, and Paimon Fortress is constantly seeing the emergence of things akin to the living dead…” The villager, already with packed bags, wore a face etched with hesitation. “If we don’t leave now, will we even be able to later?”

Indeed, a few days prior, news had arrived from outside the village: the Elven Defense Line had been overrun by monsters from Loran Forest.

The Minotaurs and Cat Demons, two distinct monstrous races, had united, breaching the defensive fortifications and slaughtering hundreds of soldiers in quick succession. In just one night, the Elven Defense Line fell, and its highest commander, Bel, vanished without a trace. The surviving humans evacuated to Paimon Fortress.

Initially, these survivors believed they would find a moment’s reprieve, but something far more terrifying occurred. The bodies of those who had succumbed to the illness began to mutate, transforming into rabid living dead, attacking ferociously upon catching the scent of the living.

Humans targeted by them rarely met a good end; they were either devoured alive or torn into gruesome pieces.

Green Village was, comparatively, a fortunate settlement, situated a fair distance from Paimon Fortress. The moment Village Chief Roan received news of the epidemic in Paimon Fortress, he immediately made the decision to seal off Green Village, forbidding both entry and exit.

No entry into the village. No visiting others’ homes. Outsiders are strictly forbidden.

For the sake of your lives, swear before the gods: no visiting relatives, no seeing friends, no dropping by.

No sneaking into the village, or your head will be smashed in!

Similar slogans were endlessly chanted by Village Chief Roan, from dawn till dusk, over and over again. The entire village had been thoroughly brainwashed, with everyone able to recite these rules backwards.

“What’s there to be afraid of! Paimon Fortress is still standing. Even if those monsters breached the defense line, do you think they can conquer Paimon Fortress? Do you think Lord Smith and his men are just sitting around, doing nothing?” Roan’s spittle landed squarely on the villager’s face. “Besides, where would you even go right now? Wouldn’t you have to come back eventually? Are you abandoning your farmland, your house, your crops? If you leave, who knows if you’ll be sick when you return? Which brave soul would dare let you back into the village?”

“But…”

“’But’ my foot!” Roan exasperatedly patted his own head. He pointed at the man, his frustration palpable, as if scolding a piece of metal that refused to be forged. “I’ve never seen you this timid before!”

The villager hung his head, a bitter expression on his face, yet still hesitated to return to his home.

Roan sighed, his tone softening. “Don’t worry, I am the Village Chief. I will consider the safety of the entire village. I will receive news immediately, and if anything happens, I will proactively organize the villagers for evacuation. Alright?”

The villager’s eyes lit up. He excitedly clasped Roan’s hand. “Thank you, Village Chief! Thank you, Village Chief!”

He then darted back into his house, slamming the door shut behind him.

This was the seventh villager Village Chief Roan had dealt with. He rubbed his aching back, then resumed patrolling the village entrance.

Freya and Roland had just finished shearing wool and were passing by. Seeing the scene, the little Demon Lord couldn’t help but let out a scoffing expression. She nudged Roland in the ribs, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Look at you humans, only thinking of running away when disaster strikes. Such is the inherent depravity of humans~”

Roland found it rather amusing. He looked into her eyes, retorting playfully, “Didn’t someone, upon seeing the Holy Sword’s power, cling to my leg begging for their life? And now you have the nerve to mock humans? Tell me, are all you demons truly so thick-skinned?”

Freya’s face darkened. Her lips twitched as she spat out a furious retort through gritted teeth. “Well, you’re even thicker-skinned! You’ve seen my true form, yet you shamelessly drank my saliva before! Aren’t you disgusted with yourself?!”

“Oh, come on, you practically threw yourself at me,” Roland said with a helpless shrug. “If I had refused, wouldn’t you have been even more embarrassed?”

“Just shut up!” Freya, realizing she couldn’t win an argument against this scoundrel, ended the debate with a touch of exasperation. Suddenly, a cold wind blew past, making her shiver and complain, “These wretched clothes of yours offer no warmth at all! I’m freezing to death!”

“Why don’t you change into the new one you had before?” Roland looked at her, puzzled. “That outfit, made from magical materials, infused with magic, it could even regulate temperature.”

“Don’t you find it strange!” Freya narrowed her eyes, her disdain undisguised. “Wearing it in the city is one thing, but wearing clothes like that in the village? The entire village would stare at me, you know!”

‘In truth, even without that particular dress, the villagers were already secretly watching you…’

‘Had she not noticed it all this time?’

‘Truly, what an oblivious creature.’

Roland chuckled to himself. “Then you can wear it at home.”

“Well, I suppose that works…” Freya had just finished speaking when she suddenly paused, a flicker of realization crossing her face, sensing something amiss. She frowned. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

By this point, the two had reached their own courtyard gate. Roland didn’t respond directly, merely waving a dismissive hand. “Nothing at all.”

He ignored Freya’s pensive expression, carrying the bag of wool into the storeroom, while Freya, behind him, thoughtfully stroked her chin.

‘If I only wear that dress at home…’

‘And there’s only Old Jenny and this idiotic Hero here…’

‘If I exclude that old woman, Old Jenny…’

‘Wouldn’t that essentially mean—I’d only be wearing it for *him*?’

‘Damn it! This idiotic Hero’s thoughts are becoming increasingly depraved!’

Freya’s face twitched in disgust. However, a moment later, a different thought occurred to her, and she decided it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

‘Hmm… but this also means his guard against me… has lowered quite a bit, hasn’t it?’ Her eyes flickered. She continued to stroke her chin, muttering to herself, ‘It seems his guard against me has relaxed somewhat these past few days. So, if he sleeps like a log again tonight… I’ll go see if I can steal the Holy Sword.’

Ever since the Holy Sword’s true form appeared and gave Freya such a hard time, the reason she hadn’t secretly slipped away was her desire to take the Holy Sword with her. Although she had initially considered simply leaving, each time she recalled her previous state of enduring humiliation, she felt that leaving without taking something would be an utter waste!

And so, the Demon Lord’s ingenious plan was hatched!

Step one: Lower the Hero’s guard through everyday, compliant behavior.

Step two: Confirm the Hero’s daily habits and routine.

Step three: Attempt to retrieve the Holy Sword, which the Hero had plunged into a stone.

Step four: Escape the Hero’s clutches!

Hmph, foolish Hero, what did you think this Demon Lord was enduring all this humiliation for? I sacrificed my energy and time doing all those messy chores for you and your mother, and you even took advantage of me so many times.

But the absolute worst was that you, you idiot, made me wash the dishes *three times* yesterday!

My back nearly broke!!! I absolutely despise washing dishes!

At this thought, she wished she could tear the idiotic Hero’s face to shreds. Glaring indignantly towards where the Holy Sword was kept, she silently firmed her resolve.

Hmph hmph, perfect. There’s hardly anyone in the village at night now. And with such a severe epidemic outside, it’s truly a heaven-sent opportunity!

Holy Sword, wait patiently for me!

****

That night, the moon shone bright, and stars were sparse.

Freya slowly opened her eyes, confirming that the person a body-length away was still soundly asleep.

‘Good, good. Just keep sleeping soundly for me, right until tomorrow’s noon.’

She stealthily rose, feeling the chill in the air. She shivered from the cold, realizing that the temperature had indeed dropped significantly with the arrival of autumn. After a moment of hesitation, she quietly opened the wardrobe and took out the black long dress and jacket.

‘Hmph—it really *can* regulate temperature with magic—’

Freya changed into her new clothes, she thought with deep satisfaction.

“Mmm…”

‘What! Had he woken up?’

Freya’s head snapped around, only to find Roland had merely turned over.

‘Hiss—that scared me to death! Thank goodness.’

She patted her chest, still slightly shaken. Taking light, careful steps, she cautiously exited the room. The moment she stepped out the door, she felt a surge of freedom, her heart swelling with excitement. Her steps unceasing as she headed towards the Monster Forest.

Inside the house, Roland, who had been soundly asleep moments before, opened his eyes. He watched the retreating figure and murmured softly:

“Truly, what an oblivious creature…”