The next day.
The "King" said goodbye to his wife and went to meet the other leaders.
"Remember to come back early," the "Queen" reminded.
"I know," he smiled. "I will, this time for sure."
"You said it."
"Of course."
They exchanged a farewell kiss before the "King" set off.
He strode along the uneven road, footsteps echoing. People followed from a distance, their eyes sharp and hostile, as if ready to devour him.
"Damn king, what are you doing back here?" someone snarled.
The "King" stopped, turning calmly toward the voice.
Their eyes met — and the man who spoke fell back in fear, shaken by the king's lifeless gaze, as cold and hollow as a corpse.
"What the hell are you...? Are you one of them?"
"If I were," the "King" replied coldly, "would you still be alive to ask?"
"Then what are you...? You're not the king we once knew."
"That's right! Our king wore majesty like armor — you're just a broken wreck!" another shouted.
"Is that so?" the "King" said flatly. "So why tell me that now?"
The crowd bristled.
"You—"
"Calm down," the "King" warned, voice turning sharper. "Cool your head before speaking, or you'll regret it."
"You think that scares us?"
One man stepped forward, furious. Without hesitation, the "King" summoned his sword and pointed it at him.
"If you want to test me, you'll be the first. Sounds fun."
The man recoiled in fear. The others stepped back too.
"Would've been easier if you all did that from the start," the "King" muttered, dismissing his sword and walking on.
"You and your family will pay for this!" someone shouted after him.
A sudden whoosh of air split the tension.
Then—screams.
"What's going on?" That man was surprised.
"Look at your body," another stammered.
The man who had shouted looked down and saw blood trickling from a gash across his stomach. He looked up — the "King" stood ahead, back turned, blade now dripping red.
"You... damn it..." he collapsed in a growing pool of blood.
Someone approached and confirmed it — the man was dead. The crowd stared in terrified silence.
"I'm not joking," the "King" said coldly, then continued forward.
After a short distance, he was stopped — by a little girl.
It was the same girl he had once saved.
Despite the bloodied sword in his hand, she ran up to him with a bright smile.
"Here, for you," she said, holding out a small gift.
It was a crudely made amulet.
"You're not afraid of me?" the "King" bent down, his voice softening.
"Everyone else is," she admitted. "But you saved me... so I don't think you're bad."
"But I just killed a man."
"I know... but that happens a lot here."
"You must've had a rough childhood," the "King" murmured, gently patting her head.
"Please take this."
"I will."
He slowly reached out and accepted the amulet.
"It's really beautiful," he said with a smile.
"You're lying. Even I think it's ugly."
"Maybe so. But I meant what's inside, not the outside."
"What do you mean, sir?"
"You'll understand one day."
The "King" stood up.
"I have to go now."
"Okay. Bye, sir!"
The girl waved as he walked away.
"I hope I'll see you again, my hero."
Her words caught him off guard.
Hero... not bad, he thought. At least I can try to live up to that, for her.
He waved back, acknowledging her words.
Eventually, he arrived at the ruins that once were the palace of the Underground King — now just a hollow echo of its former splendor.
He climbed the crumbling stairs.
The entrance door was missing, clearly smashed apart.
"At least it's still a door."
He stepped inside, the darkness swallowing him whole.
Like one of those haunted houses... except real, he thought.
As he moved through the pitch-black halls, a faint light appeared at the end of the corridor.
He followed it.
The smell hit him first — thick with alcohol. He covered his nose and entered the room.
The leaders were sprawled out, dead drunk.
"I... really don't know what to say," the "King" muttered, exasperated.
Despite his reluctance, he snapped his fingers, sending a sharp wave of sound through the chamber.
The leaders jolted awake in panic.
"An earthquake? Are we under attack—" one blurted out, then promptly vomited.
"Ugh, what a wake-up call," the Elf King groaned.
"There's no such thing as alarm clocks anymore," the Dwarf King replied, dazed.
"What was that sound?"
Then they noticed him.
The "King" stood, arms crossed, staring at them with a helpless expression.
"I can't believe you were once leaders of a kingdom," he said dryly.
"You're no better — you abandoned your own kingdom ," the Dwarf King snapped.
"At least I'm not drunk in my own ruin."
"Then why are you here now?"
"To laugh at you."
"We'll take it. Now tell us what you really want."
"I've found a way to save the world."
Skepticism filled the air.
"We've heard that one too many times," the Dwarf King grumbled.
"Fine. Then I've found a way to make you listen."
"Hah. Seems you've grown up a bit," the Dwarf King sneered. "So, how?"
The "King" pulled out a book and held it up.
"A book? That's it?"
"Don't judge by appearances," the "King" said seriously. "Even I don't fully believe what's inside."
"Let me see." The Dwarf King snatched it, flipping through the pages. His eyes widened as he read faster and faster.
"What is this...? Is this real?"
The others gathered, peering over his shoulder.
"With this, we could defeat the Star Eaters."
"Look at that magic..."
"Wait — here!" someone pointed to a picture. "An army confronting the Star Eaters."
"What are those creatures?" another asked.
"It says they're demons — guardians of suffering," someone read aloud.
"They look like corrupted angels... I've never seen anything like them," the Elf King murmured.
"This isn't from our world, is it?" the Dwarf King asked, eyeing the "King."
"No," he replied simply — and that was enough to stun the room.
"Then where did you get this?"
"I'll explain. Whether you believe me is your choice."
He recounted his encounter with the stranger.
The room fell into uneasy silence.
"Why tell us now?"
"There wasn't time before."
"Alright... fair enough," the Dwarf King conceded. "But are you hiding anything else?"
"What, you want me to confess your secrets too?" the "King" smirked.
"That's enough."
"Good. Let's get back to the book."
According to its pages, creating such an army would cost countless human lives.
The leaders went silent. The price was too steep — and they knew too little about these demons to take that risk.
"So... what now?" someone asked.
"We've been repeating that line forever. Maybe we should drop it."
"Wait...let me think—"
"Let's skip ahead."
They turned back to the book, hunting for alternatives. None were clear.
As they pored over the text, the "King" sighed, turning to leave.
"Hey, where are you going?"
"Home. I promised my wife," he said without looking back.
"What about the book? The plan?"
"I found the book. The stranger never said it was my job to save the world."
His calm, mature tone startled them. He didn't seem like the same man they once knew.
"Well then... goodbye."
He left them frozen in place.
Outside, he crossed paths with the Mermaid Queen. She looked brighter, more composed.
"Looks like you've moved past the worst," he said gently.
"Thank you," she replied. "I've suffered... but I've grown stronger."
"I'm glad to hear that. I'm sorry for what happened with the Deep Sea King."
"You don't need to apologize. That's the past — let it rest."
"If only I had your optimism."
"Didn't I tell you before? Come to me when you're tired. That offer still stands."
"Then I'll accept it someday. But for now... my family's waiting."
"See you later."
He smiled and walked away.
She watched him leave.
"Yes, we'll meet again soon," she whispered — but her smile twisted, now filled with madness and calculation.
"Now then," the Mermaid Queen sang quietly, "let's go meet the others. My suitable tributes."
She hummed broken lyrics, stepping into the light with a blade in her hand.
The moment had come.
And perhaps, the most optimistic person of all... was the craziest.
The lives of the leaders were drawing to an end.