The First Heavenly King’s Tactical Adjustment

Sovenia strode towards the Demon Queen’s Hall. Her knee-high boots crunched distinctly on the charred ground. Her fishtail braid swayed gently with each step, and her blue hair ribbon danced in the wind.

Navigating the twisted forest proved remarkably smooth. She effortlessly wove through the gnarled trees, a place humans would deem exceedingly perilous.

‘That head will be mine, and the Demon Queen’s life will be mine too. As for that foolish dog—’ The throbbing pain in her backside brought Wawalde to Sovenia’s mind. ‘He had better still be alive, because I intend to make him kneel and properly savor the taste of the First Heavenly King’s retribution.’

The more she spoke, the more invigorated she became, pumping herself up with a surge of high spirits. She felt an unshakeable conviction that nothing in her path could possibly impede her.

Yet, as she reached the edge of the twisted woods and peered towards the Demon Queen’s Hall from behind a tree trunk, the smile on her face froze.

The entrance to the Demon Queen’s Hall was swarming with demons.

Armored figures, blade-wielders, warhammer-bearers, and monstrous beast-riders — demons of every description surged from all directions. They choked the palace entrance like an ant colony, jostling and vying to push their way inside. The air itself thrummed with roars, the clang of metal, and the snarls of demon beasts, a chaos as thick and turbulent as boiling stew.

Sovenia’s eyes widened as she recognized several familiar faces: former leaders from her own legion, now each commanding their subordinates, all intent on forcing their way into the Hall to claim a share of the spoils.

She pressed a hand to her forehead. She should have realized sooner that, even setting aside any talk of ‘throne succession,’ such a massive gathering of demons held an immense allure for their kind.

Such a congregation invariably promised battle, and for demons, conflict was the ultimate path to strength; defeating and slaying foes empowered them. Moreover, a gathering of this magnitude was highly likely to draw the attention of the Four Gods.

“Damn it.”

Sovenia remained rooted to the spot, observing the teeming horde and then glancing down at her own slender physique.

Charge in? That would be suicide.

Disguise herself as a demon? No, she *was* a demon already. To simply walk in, however… that would also be suicide. With her diminutive stature, some demon was bound to challenge and test her, initiating a ‘What are you looking at? What about it?’ kind of fight.

How was that any different from a direct charge?

The Sovenia who had been so spirited moments ago now found herself in a sudden predicament.

Ten minutes later.

****

Inside the Demon Queen’s Hall.

In a storage room, a pot lid hanging on the wall swung open, revealing a secret passage no larger than a dog hole.

Sovenia crawled out of the secret passage.

Behind her, the passage was narrow and damp, its walls covered in glowing blue moss that emitted a putrid odor. Her elegant long sleeves were now smudged with dust, and a few withered leaves clung to her fishtail braid.

Crouching by the passage entrance, she brushed the dust from her clothes, her expression grim as her gaze swept the surroundings. Thankfully, no omniscient observer was present to witness the esteemed First Heavenly King resorting to a dog-hole secret passage.

As the formidable Blade of the Demon Race, Nightmare of the Elves, and Butcher of Humanity, one occasionally needed to make highly tactical and flexible adjustments. After all, strategic adaptability was the true mark of a powerful individual.

She rose, tidied her fishtail braid, and took a deep breath, ensuring no one was present for the moment.

“Yes, this is called a tactical adjustment.”

She looked up, gazing ahead.

The interior corridor of the Demon Queen’s Hall stretched into the distance. Broken chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, and the floor was strewn with rubble and bloodstains. Most of the wall torches had extinguished, with only a few sparse flames still flickering, casting dancing shadows.

A massive explosion echoed from afar, shaking the entire palace. Several stones detached from the ceiling and crashed to the ground.

Sovenia’s body stiffened, and she instinctively pressed herself against the wall.

Following the explosion came an enraged roar, deafening and seemingly emanating from the depths of hell itself. It was the Demon Queen’s cry.

“She can still unleash attacks of this magnitude?” Sovenia frowned, a wave of unease washing over her. ‘She was clearly caught in my Scorch Wave and should be severely wounded, shouldn’t she?’

The ferocity of this battle far exceeded her expectations.

For some reason, she recalled Wawalde’s current state: only five Holy Slashes remaining, his clone usable only once, and injuries still plaguing his body.

In that foolish dog’s condition, how could he possibly involve himself in a battle of this caliber?

She paused, Wawalde’s face — half-burned — appearing in her mind. She then remembered the last time they had rested and shared a meal.

It had been a commonplace room, where she had cooked a meal for Wawalde. At the time, she had been contemplating poisoning him three days hence, and had casually remarked, “May your very last meal before death be prepared by my hand.”

Yet, the foolish, inexperienced dog had been deeply moved, his inner thoughts revealing a sense of startled gratitude. She still remembered Wawalde looking up at her and speaking a single sentence:

“In such a dark, cruel, and despairing place, meeting Miss Sovenia was my fortune.”

She suddenly realized.

Wawalde might have originally wished to die, to die right here. To him, this Demon Queen’s Hall was a perilous realm of darkness and despair, filled with too many sorrowful memories. It was only because he had met her that he had temporarily found a reason to live, to see her safely out of the Demon Queen’s Hall.

‘Wait, why am I thinking such irrelevant thoughts? And my way of thinking feels odd, completely lacking the demeanor of the First Heavenly King.’

Sovenia rubbed her temples.

“It must be this cursed elven female body influencing me,” she muttered softly. “Making me sentimental, like a weak human.”

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

“Forget it. Looking on the bright side — at least I gave him a reason to live; he should be grateful to me,” she murmured to herself. “And besides, he’d better still be alive, because I haven’t yet had the chance to repay him for his humiliation of the First Heavenly King.”

A distant clamor, sounding like a bustling marketplace, drifted from beyond the door.

Sovenia craned her neck, peering out of the door into the corridor beyond.

Most of the rooms lining the corridor had collapsed, their doorframes askew and walls riddled with cracks.

Not far away, she heard numerous voices. She cautiously avoided the rubble on the floor, striving to make no sound.

She was intimately familiar with the terrain here. As she mentally mapped the main thoroughfares that the throngs of demons might use to flood into the Hall, she simultaneously sought ways to circumvent them.

Fortunately, her stealthy progress remained uneventful.

Another explosion erupted, this time much closer. Sovenia halted, pressed herself against the wall, and held her breath.

After the blast, a piercing shriek followed, sounding like the death throes of some colossal beast.

She frowned, her heartbeat inexplicably quickening.

‘At this intensity, is the Demon Queen truly fighting to the death? And that foolish dog, Wawalde, in such a poor state — Holy Slashes almost depleted, only one clone left, still bearing injuries… can he possibly endure?’

‘It’s not surprising.’

Sovenia bit her lower lip, her fingers tightening around her backpack’s strap.

‘Why do I seem to be worrying about that foolish dog’s survival? What does his life or death have to do with me?’

‘No, wait. I do have a reason to care.’

‘This isn’t ordinary concern; it’s a concern with significant tactical value. After all, outwardly, the foolish dog and I are still allies. This means he’s a valuable asset to exploit in the upcoming “Demon King’s Struggle for Supremacy.”

‘I hope that by the time I reach the “Demon King’s Struggle for Supremacy,” the foolish dog still has some breath left, enough for me to make good use of him.’

‘Yes, exactly. That foolish dog must live. Only by living can he help me reclaim my male body’s head, and only then can I properly teach him a lesson later.’

‘I’ll make Wawalde kneel, then command ten ogres, each wielding a spiked club, to take turns brutally swinging at his idiotic backside.’

‘Then I’ll rip out his heart and read his thoughts, to see how he dared to cause the great First Heavenly King’s downfall.’

‘But now is not the time for such thoughts. I need to reach the battle alive and avoid dying at the hands of my own “demon brethren.”

Sovenia took a deep breath, forcing herself to continue forward, her steps a little quicker than before.

Sovenia crept along the wall, carefully avoiding the rubble underfoot. From the corridor corner ahead, she heard heavy breathing and the grating scrape of metal being dragged.

She stopped, held her breath, and ducked into a partially collapsed doorframe nearby.

Two demons in tattered armor emerged from around the corner, carrying a corpse slung over their shoulders. The body, marked with a dog collar around its neck—the distinctive equipment of the Demon Queen’s guard, ensuring loyalty—had a gaping hole torn through its chest.

The two demons argued as they walked. One suddenly paused, tilting their head to sniff in her direction.

Sovenia remained utterly still.

The demon sniffed twice more, then raised an arm to wipe away the black blood oozing from beneath their nose. “What’s that smell?”

“What the hell are you sniffing at? Hurry up, Skullcrusher’s people are coming!” the other demon urged.

The two demons continued, dragging the corpse, and soon vanished at the end of the corridor. Sovenia waited a few seconds, ensuring her surroundings were silent, before cautiously peering out from behind the doorframe.

She continued forward.

The corridor grew progressively narrower, with more cracks appearing in the ceiling, from which fine stone fragments occasionally fell. Ahead, the sounds of fierce combat erupted once more: clashing metal, enraged roars, and agonizing screams, all blending into a cacophony.

Sovenia quickened her pace, hoping to slip through the area swiftly while the battle raged, with everyone preoccupied by their “promotions.”

She had just reached a crossroads when hurried footsteps, accompanied by heavy breathing, suddenly echoed from the left.

No time to hide.

Sovenia immediately crouched down, shrinking into the shadows of the crossroads’ corner, trying her best to resemble a pile of debris.

A group of demons, seven or eight strong, burst from the left. Their bodies were smeared with blood, and they clutched various weapons. The leader, sporting four horns on their head, even had half a severed arm clamped between their jaws.

They rushed past Sovenia, entirely oblivious to her curled form in the corner.

“Quick! Skullcrusher’s bastards are chasing us!”

“Damn it, I only snatched two heads from him, is this really necessary?!”

“Less talk, run!”

This group of demons howled past, quickly disappearing into the depths of the corridor. Immediately after, a heavier set of footsteps followed, interspersed with low growls.

Sovenia huddled even tighter.

A massive demon passed before her eyes, at least three meters tall, its body a mass of bulging muscles, its skin dark red, and several broken spears embedded in its back.

It bore so many blessings that Sovenia suspected it would, in the next second, transform into a ‘Chaos Spawn’—a monster with excessive blessings, a failed ascension, left with brute strength or even supernatural abilities, but utterly devoid of a brain.

The hulking muscle demon paused at the crossroads, glancing around, its nostrils flaring as it sniffed the air. Sovenia watched it silently, ready to fight at any moment.

After a few seconds, the demon let out an impatient growl, then turned and pursued the direction the fleeing group had taken.

Sovenia waited until it was far away before slowly rising and continuing. She took a deep breath, proceeding with even greater caution now, pausing every few steps to listen for movement.

The corridor ahead gradually widened, with most of the room doors on either side standing open, revealing scenes of utter devastation inside. Broken furniture, torn curtains, and numerous corpses lay scattered across the floor—all casualties in this grand battle for ‘promotion.’

Sovenia quickened her pace, eager to pass through this area as swiftly as possible.

Just then, a clamor erupted ahead, followed by a large group of demons—twenty or thirty strong—surging out from the corridor.

Sovenia immediately halted.

The demon horde was split into two factions, locked in fierce combat. One faction wore uniform black armor, emblazoned with the Demon Queen’s crest on their chests. The other’s armor was similar, but they wore cloth strips tied around their arms to distinguish friend from foe.

The two sides fought relentlessly, completely blocking the corridor ahead.

Sovenia gritted her teeth, turning to retrace her steps.

But footsteps suddenly echoed from behind her.

She spun around sharply, seeing a group of demons approaching from the direction she had come, a considerable number, at least a dozen. The leader carried a bloody severed head in their hand, conversing with their companions and occasionally letting out a crude laugh.

Sovenia’s heart sank.

Blocked ahead, and now approached from behind.

She scanned her surroundings. Walls flanked both sides, with only a few damaged doors leading into rooms, but most of those rooms had collapsed; hiding in them would only trap her.

The demons behind her drew closer; she could now hear their conversation.

“I hear that old hag, the Demon Queen, is heavily wounded and gasping for breath somewhere.”

“Heh, if I catch her, I’ll twist her head off and use it as a chamber pot.”

Sovenia pressed her lips together, her fingers tightening on her backpack strap.

The battle ahead continued, the sounds of killing deafening. The demons behind her were now less than twenty meters away.

She had no choice but to push forward.

Sovenia lowered her stance, pressing close to the wall as she moved toward the edge of the battle ahead. Her footsteps were light, almost silent, her eyes fixed on the clashing demons as she searched for a gap to slip through.

A black-armored demon was cut down, blood splattering against the wall. Sovenia seized the opportunity, swiftly moving past, her body hugging the wall as she skirted the edge of the fight.

“Hey! You over there!”

A sudden shout came from behind her.

Sovenia did not stop; instead, she quickened her pace.

“Stop! Whose side are you on, you bastard?!”

The voice grew closer. Sovenia gritted her teeth and broke into a full sprint. Footsteps pounded behind her, accompanied by angry curses.

Sovenia dashed into a side passage. Just as she rounded a corner, her long ears caught the sound of disciplined footsteps approaching from the end of the corridor ahead.

It had to be a well-ordered army.

She stopped, looking left and right. There was no escape route, only a row of barracks-style rooms.

Behind her, angry curses grew louder, while ahead, the rhythmic footsteps drew near.

Sovenia had no illusion that her “demon brethren” would wait for her to activate a card. She estimated she had, at most, two or three turns before she was chopped into mincemeat.

Her gaze darted around, desperately searching for a way out.

A black cloak hanging on the wall caught her eye. Its edges were singed, and its back bore the insignia of the legion she once commanded—a blood-red skull.

A flash of inspiration struck Sovenia.

‘Right, I am a demon, and the First Heavenly King at that. It’s just a shame many demons only care about outward appearances. But I only need a small cosmetic adjustment. The demon soldiers will surely understand.’

She quickly snatched the black cloak. It was quite large for her slender elven female body, like draping herself in a bedsheet, but there was no time to care about that.

Donning the blood-skull cloak, Sovenia burst directly from the corner, colliding head-on with a small army composed of demon warriors.

They wore black armor, all draped in black cloaks, about twenty individuals. They walked two abreast, completely blocking the corridor. The one leading them held a banner aloft, emblazoned with the blood-skull emblem.

The banner-wielding demon, who wore no helmet, his bald head adorned with a twisted black horn, looked at Sovenia with blood-red eyes. “An elf?!”

“Salute me, Centurion!” Sovenia adopted her former authoritative demeanor, striding forward and speaking in fluent Demonic. “Listen, you must obey my command.”

The demon holding the banner, his bald head adorned with a twisted black horn, grinned widely. “You little elf brat, you’re looking for death!”