The Useless Prince Is A Gangster
Chapter 70. The Demon Lord

Chapter 70: 70. The Demon Lord

Far from human lands, across vast oceans, lay the Demon Realm—a sprawling continent where demons lived in peace, their cities and villages thriving like any human nation.

At the capital stood a grand castle.

Inside, a beautiful demon woman, Fenrath, raced through marble hallways, her crimson skin shimmering, golden horns curling back, her emerald eyes wide with panic. Her striking beauty turned heads, but her urgency was unmistakable. She burst into an elegant office, shouting, "Majesty, emergency!"

The office was large, a massive desk buried under stacks of documents. Fenrath scanned the room, finding no one. "your majesty?" she called, voice trembling.

A low, sleepy voice groaned from behind the desk. "What is it, Fenrath?"

Fenrath hurried around, gasping.

There, sprawled on the floor, was Queen Saevril Nocthmyn, ruler of the Demon Realm. Her long hair shimmered between midnight blue and silver, catching the light, her amethyst eyes half-open, pale moonlight skin glowing faintly.

She looked more like a goddess than a demon lord, but her lazy slump screamed hangover. Fenrath knelt, helping her up. "Queen, what happened?"

Saevril sighed, slumping into her chair, rubbing her temples. "Nothing. Too much wine at last night’s banquet. Head’s killing me." She squinted at Fenrath. "Why’re you running in here like the world’s on fire?"

Fenrath’s face paled realising why she’s here, her words stumbling, voice shaking. "My Queen... our 7th Commander, Valtharion... he’s dead."

Saevril froze, her hand dropping, amethyst eyes sharpening. "Say that again," she said, voice low, dangerous.

Fenrath swallowed, trembling. "We can’t sense Lord Valtharion’s life force. He’s... confirmed dead."

The Queen shot to her feet, towering over Fenrath, her presence overwhelming. "Don’t play games, Fenrath. Where is he? He can’t be dead!" Her voice cracked, disbelief warring with dread.

Fenrath’s eyes dropped, her voice small. "He was bored... accepted a random summoning to the human continent. He’s been missing since. Humans... must’ve killed him."

"Human?" A sharp male voice cut in. Both women turned to the office couch, where a tall, lean demon lounged, his white hair stark against his dark suit, golden eyes glinting with mischief.

Lyzrick, Commander of Greed, younger brother of demon lord, smirked, one leg crossed over the other.

Saevril’s eyes narrowed, irritation flaring. "Lyzrick, how many times have I told you to knock?"

Lyzrick ignored her, leaning forward, grin widening. "Valtharion’s really dead? Killed by humans?" His chuckle grew into a full, mocking laugh, echoing in the room. "That prideful idiot, crushed by mortals? Oh, I wanted to break his smug face myself!"

He was suddenly airborne, yelping as Saevril’s hand gripped his collar, lifting her brother like a ragdoll. Her face was a storm of frustration, amethyst eyes blazing. "We lost our 7th Commander, Lyzrick, and we don’t even know why. You’re laughing in my office?"

She hurled him across the room, Lyzrick crashing into a bookshelf, books tumbling. Saevril turned to Fenrath, voice sharp. "Call a meeting. Now. We need to discuss this.....and find Pride’s next successor, fast.

Fenrath hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. "Your Majesty... Pride’s power... it didn’t return."

Saevril’s breath caught, her eyes widening. Lyzrick, dusting himself off, froze mid-step. "What do you mean, didn’t return?" he asked, his smirk gone. "The sin’s power goes back to the vessel when the wielder dies, right?"

Queen Saevril stood rigid, but her face was a filled of urgency. "We have an emergency," she muttered, voice sharp. "Call all the commanders—now. We take back what’s ours, what our god gave us. I’ll reclaim Pride myself."

Fenrath nodded, scrambling to obey, while Lyzrick, still dusting off his suit, watched silently, his golden eyes narrowing.

In the Academy Forest

The forest entrance buzzed with chaos—students scattered across the ground, some lying injured, healers rushing with glowing hands, others sitting silent, eyes hollow, haunted by the deaths of friends. The air smelled of blood, and fear, the trauma of the cage horrors etched into every face.

Under a tree, Kareth, Olyraa, Rowan, and Varkras sits, their clothes torn but bodies unharmed, thanks to their guide, Leonhardt. They stared at the dirt, faces tight with worry, Leonhardt still not returned after crossing path with that demon.

Olyraa’s voice was soft, trembling. "I hope Senior comes back safe."

Kareth forced a nod, his jaw tight. "He will. No doubt."

Varkras scoffed, his voice low, bitter. "You sure? That demon wasn’t normal. No way he’s alive after that."

Rowan’s hand shot out, grabbing Varkras’s collar, eyes blazing. "Don’t you dare say that," he growled, voice shaking with fury. Before Varkras could snap back, Velmira’s shout cut through—"Senior Rin!"

They spun, hearts leaping. Volkhardt emerged from the forest, his silver hair glinting, face calm but grim, carrying Rin’s limp, battered body in his arms. Her violet hair was matted with blood, her bruised frame barely stirring. Velmira sprinted to them, her face paling as she saw Rin’s condition.

The four students rushed over, fear choking them.

Volkhardt’s voice was urgent. "Stretcher—now." Staff members scrambled, laying a stretcher before him. He placed Rin down gently, her shallow breaths barely visible.

Velmira knelt, checking Rin’s pulse, her hands trembling. Olyraa’s voice cracked. "How is she?"

"She’s in worst," Velmira said, voice tight. "She needs the infirmary—fast."

Volkhardt nodded. "Take her. Move." The staff lifted the stretcher, rushing toward the academy building, Velmira trailing close, her face set with determination.

Another shout rang out from behind. "Bring the stretcher—hurry!"

The group turned, eyes widening in shock. Professors Vaelem, Gidon, and Isolde coming from the forest’s edge, their faces grim. Floating in a golden glow from Vaelem’s staff was Leonhardt, his body a bloody, broken mess, soaked red, unconscious.

The students froze, horror and hope colliding, their voices silent as the stretcher was rushed to him.

Two Days Later, Academy Dorm Room

Erin sat at a small table in her dorm, a chessboard spread before her. She held a queen piece, her lips curled in a sly smile.

"The queen got her strength back," she murmured, placing the queen, "saving the bishop."

She set down the bishop piece.

"They guided the king." The king piece followed.

"And the king saved the knight." She placed the knight, her grin widening.

She leaned back, eyes gleaming. "The pieces are lining up nice," she said, her eyes shifting to the opponent’s side of the board. Her smile turned sharp as she picked up a white mask, the one taken from the attackers in the forest.

"Now, let’s meet the other king," she whispered, twirling the mask, its empty eyes staring back.

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