Episode 10. When Bitter Ends, Sweet Comes (6)
What the Skeleton King discovered were three glass bottles.
Of course, what surprised him wasn't the containers but their contents.
'Well, they all look like dried jerky.'
The bottles held what could be called dried demon specimens—a desiccated hand, a shriveled heart, and a withered tail.
Their common trait? Each was tightly bound with cross-shaped cords. As if that weren't enough, seven additional seals adorned the firmly corked openings.
The Skeleton King instantly recognized them.
'Those are demon corpses.'
Not mere preserved snacks... but sealed demons.
Typically, priests incinerated demon remains completely. Only specimens with particular value were preserved this way for practical use—creatures commonly called .
'Hmm, each has a high-grade magic core. Rare finds.'
Yet regardless of grade, they remained dead demons.
While clergy usually ignored such things, they held unexpected utility for priests.
'Perfect bait.'
Priests dispatched across the continent for rituals or exterminations often used these seals when pursued. Unleashing them as bait proved brutally effective.
'They flock like maggots to carrion.'
Demons slaughtered kin to devour magic cores and flesh alike. Given the choice between human meat and a fellow demon's magic, they always chose the latter. Higher-ranked demons were walking magic reservoirs—muscle, bone, and all.
The Skeleton King knew this better than any, having survived centuries in that cannibalistic hierarchy.
Some priests exploited this trait to lure demons...
Then slaughter them en masse—
'Ugh, remembering this irks me. Those damned priests hunting like beaters.'
Treating people like dogs...
The memory resurfaced—even a Saintess once waving him like a bone before hounds, making his nonexistent blood boil.
He was a skeleton, but dignity remained!
What did they take the Demon King for? If they must wave something, at least use top-tier bait!
Still, demon corpses served as reliable emergency funds. Nations and core hunters coveted valuable magic nuclei.
'Yet carrying these wasn't common.'
Only demon-hunting priests typically bore them.
So why would a Bishop possess such treasures?
For a prelate who shouldn't travel far, only one explanation existed:
'Either ulterior motives... or roads so dangerous even Bishops need protection.'
Simple logic.
People arm themselves only when safety fails.
The Skeleton King smirked, grasping the situation.
'No wonder that Bishop's been oddly defiant toward the Emperor.'
That inexplicably overbearing attitude—even threatening about crown prince succession?
Unthinkable without papal authority. Only possible if the Church's influence had ballooned... likely from increased demon incursions.
'Whatever occurred in my absence...'
The clergy's anti-demon power seemed to have grown continent-wide.
Historically, favorable circumstances breed power.
'The Saintess reaching that pinnacle? A golden goose indeed.'
But that wasn't his immediate concern.
The important thing was the demon corpses before him.
As his lipless mouth curved—
Smoothly,
Deliberately,
His golden rattle "slipped" across the bag.
Clink!
The golden object's fall instantly drew all attention.
"My! Such a precious item!"
Priests scrambled to retrieve the rattle.
"Weight-treated, but still heavy..."
Light when held, it became a leaden mass when dropped.
When even the Bishop's attention shifted toward the commotion—
The smirking Skeleton King cast his spell.
Crack!
A mere 0.1-second distraction sufficed.
Pop!
The glass bottle inside the bag exploded.
The temple descended into chaos.
"Kyaaak!"
Black smoke engulfed the hall as the seal broke, releasing its captive demon.
An unearthly wail tore through minds:
—Grooooaah!
The amorphous shadow coalesced into a horned demon—only skeletal limbs visible beneath its hooded cloak.
Frozen priests and paladins stared in disbelief.
"Shadow Lich!"
"A high-tier demon?!"
Panicked holy spells erupted. The Emperor drew his sword, shielding the crown prince.
All furious eyes turned to the Bishop.
"Releasing demons in the temple! Have you gone mad?!"
Royal knights reacted fiercest, all decorum forgotten.
"Bishop Martha Verit! Explain this outrage!"
"Daring to target His Majesty and the Prince?!"
But the Bishop gaped at the shattered bottle containing a mummified hand.
'Impossible!'
A Cardinal's own seal broken? Hadn't this demon been slain?
The Skeleton King chuckled inwardly.
'Dead, yes—but demons are tenacious.'
'Should've crushed the core.'
However perfectly executed the killing, intact cores allowed resurrection chances—living fossils awaiting revival.
Normally impossible... unless facing someone extraordinary.
'Regret revealing these before me.'
The Skeleton King—Undying Monarch of Demons.
Had he failed to revive one foolish subordinate, how could he claim his title?
'Since you crave demon slaying... enjoy.'
Intentional or not, unleashing demons in the royal temple meant unavoidable consequences.
As predicted:
"Bishop Verit! What have you done?!"
Royal knights formed defensive arrays. Azure light shaped into eagle wings enveloped the royals.
Thud!
The struggling knights glared.
"Have you lost all reason? Consorting with high demons! What schemes does the Church plot?!"
The Bishop's neck veins bulged.
"Slander! The totem revived itself!"
"Self-revival? Nonsense!"
"A dead demon can't—"
"Check yourself!"
As the Bishop peered into the bag, his eyebrows shot up.
'Demonic aura?'
Undeniably—a demon's magic residue.
His murderous gaze found the Skeleton King.
'That brat!'
Suspecting earlier spellwork, now this?
'Must deliver him to the Papacy!'
Interrogators, papal knights—all would extract the truth.
'I'll disembowel and burn this arrogant demon spawn!'
As he lunged for the skeleton's throat—
—Grooooaah!
The enraged demon's cry shook the temple. Black magic lashed outward.
Cough!
The Skeleton King's jawbone stretched in silent laughter within the priest's arms.
Serves you right!
Though new to him, this 5th or 6th-tier demon proved useful. Creating such a totem required high-tier clergy—harder than outright destruction.
Its immediate fury suggested deep grudges against priests...
—Kill the Saintess! Kill her!
...What?
The demon's roar contorted the Skeleton King's face.
'Wait, kill who?'
Their eyes met.
The demon's hood flared with crimson light.
—Kill the Saintess! Free our captured King!
It lunged—straight for him.
'Damn! Why's aggro on me?!'
"Your Highness!"
Royal knights charged as the priest fled opposite.
"He targets the Saintess!"
"Treacherous Skeleton King! You ordered her assassination!"
Bullshit! I need to become the Saintess and take this nation!
Suicidal much? I don't even touch kids!
His browbone furrowed.
Some fool must've spread fake orders in his name.
Not his underlings—they'd never misuse his authority.
—Kill the Saintess! Save our King!
The demon reached for him.
The Skeleton King sighed.
Fool. Can't even pick proper targets.
His eye sockets flared crimson—
Not magic, but raw demonic pressure through gaze.
A hierarchy challenge.
The demon froze mid-strike.
—?!
Its entire form shuddered.
