The first thing Furenna perceived upon regaining consciousness was the frigid scent of decay mingled with metal.
The Heroine attempted to move her fingers, only to be met by the heavy drag of cast iron shackles around her wrists and ankles, and the grating screech of chains scraping against the rough stone floor.
The Holy Light’s power and the various robust elemental magics, those once-warm sources of power that had flowed within her,
now lay trapped as if in deep ice, utterly imprisoned and devoured by the dimly flickering violet runes etched upon her manacles.
The final fragments of her memory were of the Demon King Iris’s satisfied and malevolent smile, and…
Timo’s large eyes, brimming with tears, filled with terror and dependence.
To protect this little girl, whom she regarded as a younger sister and who had been harmed by human persecution, Furenna had not hesitated to abandon all resistance when Demon King Iris produced that ominous, shimmering Soul Contract.
She allowed the contract’s power to bind her soul, becoming a captive.
Furenna lifted her head with difficulty, surveying her surroundings.
This was no ordinary prison cell; there were no torture instruments, nor were there any jailers in sight.
The space was abnormally high and vast, its vaulted ceiling swallowed by thick darkness.
The walls curved with a bizarre, almost biological carapace-like texture and pattern, covered in moss that emitted a faint, eerie green glow—the sole source of light here.
In the center of the floor was carved a massive, intricate circular diagram, its lines deeply embedded in the stone, faintly pulsing with disquieting energy that seemed to cut off access to the very elemental sources it utilized.
The air was stagnant, broken only by the rhythmic drip of water from somewhere in the distance, striking against the utter dead silence.
* * * *
The heavy metal door was flung open with a deafening crash, shattering the prison’s stillness.
A murky, reddish light sliced in from outside, outlining the tall, imposing figure of Demon King Iris.
She wore dark armor, a crimson cloak pooling at her feet, her features stern, her gaze sweeping over Furenna like one would appraise an object, devoid of any warmth.
Two silent demon soldiers stepped forward, entering the cell to roughly haul Furenna up, then unceremoniously throw her back to the ground like a caged animal.
Just as Furenna stubbornly tried to rise to her feet, determined not to bow or kneel before demons,
she was immediately forced back down by the demon soldiers, who crossed their magically imbued halberds against her neck.
The young woman was compelled to kneel, her movement restricted under the immense pressure, able only to turn her head slightly.
Struggling to maintain this position, Furenna lifted her gaze, but what met her eyes was not the Demon King alone.
Behind Iris, four figures radiating immense oppressive auras filed in, taking their positions on either side.
First was the Flame Demon Lord Lalanira, her massive frame nearly blocking part of the doorway.
Her dark red skin seemed to have molten lava flowing beneath it, her great horns wreathed in undying flame, her heavy breaths carrying a savage air.
The towering flame demon looked down upon Furenna with contempt, emitting a low, derisive chuckle:
“Heh, the mighty Heroine. After losing her power, she’s just such a fragile little thing. I doubt the Heroine in her current state could withstand even a single slap from me.”
Beside her stood the Vampire Princess Avia, poised elegantly in place.
Her exquisite features and crimson lips highlighted her extraordinary bearing as she gently fanned herself with an ornate feather fan, her tone teasing like a cat playing with a mouse:
“Lalanira, be careful what you say.
This… little thing… is the very Heroine who once sent us scattering in defeat.
Though it is indeed lamentable to see her reduced to such a state.
I wonder if those humans you so desperately protected are currently planning a rescue?”
The third was the Dollmaker Li Ai, her form slender, dressed in intricate gothic attire.
A silver mask covered the upper half of her face, revealing only her finely shaped jaw and pale lips.
She remained silent, the fingertips of her white silk-gloved hands gently pinching and turning, as if manipulating invisible threads, her voice soft and light:
“Perfect skeletal proportions, rare soul resilience…
Your Majesty, if subsequent plans permit, please be sure to entrust her to me.
I shall use the Heroine’s body as a blueprint to craft an unparalleled, perfect doll.”
As for Hastur, the Tentacle Witch shrouded in a yellow robe, she said nothing.
Utterly loyal and following Iris’s lead, she couldn’t be bothered to waste words on Furenna.
Furenna bit her lower lip hard, forcing herself to straighten her spine and endure these gazes filled with malice and scrutiny.
She knew any retort or plea would be meaningless, serving only to embolden these demons.
The only thing she could do was remain silent, guarding the last vestiges of her dignity.
Demon King Iris offered no comment on her subordinates’ discussions.
She raised a hand, her voice flat yet carrying indisputable authority:
“You have all seen for yourselves. Now that it’s been visually confirmed that the Heroine Furenna is imprisoned here as our captive, you may proceed with the propaganda upon your return to boost our clan’s morale.
As for her disposition and future… I have my own plans.”
The Demon King’s gaze fell upon Furenna once more, inscrutable and deep.
“You two, ensure she is guarded strictly.”
The two silent demon soldiers nodded stiffly, once again lifting Furenna to carry her back to her cage.
As Furenna was being escorted past Iris, the Demon King tilted her head slightly,
and in a cold tone audible only to the two of them, left those words in her ear like a sentence of fate:
“Prepare yourself to accept your destiny, Heroine.”
With those words, Iris turned without hesitation and led the Four Heavenly Kings out of the dungeon.
The heavy iron door slammed shut once more, cutting off all light and sound, leaving only the faint green glow to accompany the complete and utter silence.
* * * *
Furenna curled up in a cold corner of the cell, leaning against the wall, barely able to move.
Darkness and solitude washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her.
Iris’s words echoed repeatedly in her mind—”destiny”?
Due to the contract’s terms, immediate execution was impossible.
Was it torture, then? That didn’t seem to fit either.
The words of the Four Heavenly Kings hinted at different intentions:
the Flame Demon’s desire for destruction, the Vampire’s mockery, the Dollmaker’s intention to repurpose…
All of it pointed toward an unknown and dangerous future.
She couldn’t help but think of Timo.
How was that child faring now?
The Demon King had honored the contract, ensuring her safety, but had she returned home safely afterward?
Worry and powerlessness intertwined, tearing at her heart.
But soon, Furenna took a deep breath of the icy air, forcing herself to calm down.
Despair solved nothing. She was the Heroine of Light.
Even with her power sealed, even in this desperate situation, her will could not yield so easily.
She began to carefully sense her prison. The biological, organic texture of the walls, the faint flow of energy from the magic circle on the floor, the subtle sensation of the manacles continuously draining something from her very being…
This was no ordinary dungeon. It was more like a meticulously prepared site, imbued with a specific purpose.
Just what was the Demon King’s “plan”?
The long night stretched on. In the dungeon, only the rhythmic drip of water persisted, like a countdown to Furenna’s unknown path ahead.
Crouched in the shadows, the fear in her jade-green eyes was gradually replaced by a resolute glint.
Whatever destiny awaited her, she had to survive.
For Timo, for humanity, for the Goddess, and to find a single thread of hope.
Furenna would absolutely never yield.