Chapter 3: A Demon Lord’s Peculiar Hospitality

Unlike Qiaolun’s preconceptions, the so-called Demon Race had always been, in his mind, creatures with only slightly more intelligence than savage magical beasts.

This notion remained largely unchanged even when he found himself confronting the Demon Lord’s army.

The demi-humans residing in Elterit, the United Kingdom co-founded by elves, demi-humans, and humans, were rumored to possess both orc and human bloodlines.

They tended to favor the latter in appearance and physique.

Consequently, Qiaolun believed the orc species, which belonged to the Demon Race, were indeed quite distinct from humans, being tall and barbaric.

However, upon finally encountering the target of the Hero’s army’s relentless pursuit—the Demon Lord, enthroned in regal splendor, a being whose mere existence instilled fear across all humanity and even made ancient dragons wary…

Not only did her demeanor resemble that of a human girl utterly smitten by a handsome man, but Qiaolun also sensed a peculiar charm emanating from her.

It felt as though, should he relax his guard even slightly, he would fall under her complete sway.

‘I had no idea the current Demon Lord was a succubus!’

And what’s more—

A short-haired girl, clad in a pristine white apron adorned with ruffled trim, brought a fresh set of clothes and stood silently by the window.

“Hero, the Demon Lord wishes to invite you to breakfast.”

Her delicate voice was as timid as her presence.

Qiaolun’s gaze slowly emerged from beneath the covers, revealing a maid, a girl not yet eighteen, dressed in a servant’s uniform.

‘Is she a succubus too? Hmm… where’s her tail? And she doesn’t have black horns.’

“Just leave the clothes here.”

“Eh?” The maid paused, startled by Qiaolun’s words.

“What’s wrong? Do you wish to watch me dress?” Qiaolun asked, his brow furrowed.

“N-no, I wouldn’t dare. I am supposed to help you change; the Demon Lord has instructed us to serve the Hero with the utmost respect.”

“What?!”

Qiaolun instinctively thought he had misheard.

His surprise wasn’t at the Demon Lord’s command, but at the notion of this girl changing his clothes.

“I am a man. How can a girl like you help me dress? Is this also your master’s demand?”

“It is my duty. As the Demon Lord’s personal maid, she instructed me to serve the Hero as I would my master.”

“Ah~ so your supreme Demon Lord needs you to… *help* her with her clothes too?”

“Only me!” The maid, whose face had been shy moments before, now revealed a proud expression.

Among the Demon Race, even the eight exalted Demon Generals were forbidden from serving directly beside the Demon Lord, let alone having the chance to touch her tail!

“Get out!”

Under Qiaolun’s unyielding demeanor, the maid was expelled from the room.

‘Seriously, a Demon Lord who can’t even manage her own daily life? Even if I killed her, I wouldn’t feel any sense of honor.’

As the Demon Lord had granted leave to all non-essential staff in the Demon Lord’s Castle, the vast ancient fortress was temporarily devoid of extra servants, save for those performing daily cleaning duties.

Naturally, the chefs were deemed by Yunajin to hold extremely important positions, no less crucial than her personal maids.

The pervasive magic throughout the Demon Realm meant that most high-ranking demons did not require sustenance to replenish their energy.

However, for Yunajin, the only way to truly suppress her desires was to cultivate a different kind of appetite.

No previous Demon Lord had ever required chefs to prepare their meals, making Yunajin’s generation the first to set such a precedent.

“Vivi, is he awake?” Yunajin asked, leaning across the long dining table, a trolley laden with dishes parked beside her.

“Yes, but the Hero strongly resisted my attempts to help him dress. Was my service inadequate?” Vivi lowered her head, speaking with embarrassment, as if genuinely questioning her own competence.

A peculiar expression flickered across Yunajin’s face.

“Perhaps human customs are simply different,” she remarked casually.

In this world, his name was Qiaolun, and he didn’t seem too difficult to get along with.

Yunajin had initially braced herself for a considerable effort to persuade Qiaolun to stay in the Demon Lord’s Castle temporarily.

To her surprise, he quickly settled into the prepared room, even though she had offered the excuse of “repairing his weapon and postponing their duel until another day.”

Guided by Vivi, Qiaolun traversed long corridors and ascended spiral staircases.

Despite the plush, dark purple carpet that cushioned every step, he couldn’t help but feel a touch of weariness.

“The Demon Lord’s castle is truly immense. Your daily work as servants must be quite arduous.”

Qiaolun noticed several maids, similarly clad in black and white uniforms, standing on stools to clean the high windows.

They were all petite, and upon closer inspection, their heights appeared almost identical.

“Hmm?” Qiaolun discerned the face of one of them.

He rubbed his eyes, muttering, “I’m not mistaken, am I?”

“Hero, is something amiss?” Vivi slowed her pace, asking with concern.

“No, I might just be seeing things.”

‘Perhaps it was due to not having eaten properly for a long time, causing hallucinations of a face identical to the maid walking beside him.’

‘I should have just eaten with that guy last night; it would have been a free meal.’

As they descended the final flight of stairs, Vivi halted before a grand door.

“Allow me,” Qiaolun offered, stepping forward.

The colossal black door before them, even taller than the five-meter-tall Minotaur he had defeated yesterday, seemed far too formidable for the small maid to push open alone.

He gripped the wide handle and pulled with all his might.

A grunt escaped him—

His muscles tensed, his face flushed with effort, yet the door remained stubbornly unmoving.

‘What in the world? Is this blasted door truly so heavy?!’

Seeing Qiaolun resort to using both hands, Vivi offered an awkward smile.

“Uh, you have it backward, sir. You need to push it like this.” Vivi extended a hand and effortlessly pushed the door open, gesturing for him to enter.

“Ahem, your Demon Race certainly has peculiar ways of opening doors.”

Qiaolun conveniently forgot his earlier embarrassment.

He strode forward, and before his eyes, a long rectangular table was laden with dishes, all remarkably familiar, reminiscent of his homeland.

“Hero, a simple breakfast surely won’t suffice for you, will it?” Yunajin said, seated at the far end of the long table, generously inviting the famished Qiaolun.

Yet, he had arrived with the unwavering resolve to slay the Demon Lord.

“Hmph, I suppose I am indebted to the Demon Lord, then.” Qiaolun remarked, adjusting his sleeves as he calmly took a seat.

When his gaze next fell upon the opposite side of the table, he noticed the black-haired maid standing beside Yunajin, having appeared there unnoticed.

‘How did she get over there? Why didn’t I notice? Wait, I think I saw a similar figure there when I first entered.’

“Allow me to introduce you. This is Vivi, my exclusive personal attendant, from the Slime race.”

‘A Slime? Those gooey creatures? I remember they have the ability to split and shapeshift. So, I wasn’t seeing things after all.’

‘Perhaps only the one beside the Demon Lord is the true body; all the maids I encountered along the way, including the one who guided me, must have been her clones.’

Qiaolun glanced behind him, and indeed, she had vanished.

Yunajin rested her face in her hands, propped on the table, watching Qiaolun eat.

She seemed utterly content, much like someone observing a long-desired small animal, finally captured, as it happily consumed its meal.

Seemingly aware of her gaze, Qiaolun lifted his eyes.

‘What is she looking at?’

“How is it? How does it taste?” Yunajin asked, a smile playing on her lips.

“Mediocre,” Qiaolun replied indifferently, wiping his mouth.

He wasn’t merely being contrary.

While the dishes presented were indeed folk snacks from Eastern Elterit, their taste diverged significantly from those in Qiaolun’s memory.

“My apologies. After all, these chefs were hired from the Madal Duchy; they haven’t had the opportunity to taste the delicacies of Eastern Elterit themselves.”

Madal City, a free city-state situated in the borderlands between the United Kingdom and the Demon Realm, was reportedly founded by a group of humans and demons who once roamed both territories.

They maintained strict neutrality, willing to establish relations with all races.

“When will my weapon be repaired?”

“It will be ready the day after tomorrow. Are you in such a hurry?”

“That fast?!” Qiaolun’s face betrayed his utter astonishment.

A sword shattered into two by impact would typically require at least a week for even the finest human craftsmen to repair.

“Can you guarantee the quality won’t be compromised?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

“Hehe, rest assured. I even specifically asked them to improve it for you.”

Yunajin chuckled softly.

She hadn’t anticipated that the Hero’s weapon would prove even more fragile than glass beneath her fist, despite her careful control of her strength.

“This is the reward for the Hero who defeated the final boss!”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Qiaolun blinked in confusion.

The unfamiliar words that suddenly spilled from Yunajin’s lips, knowledge from another world, made him mistakenly believe she was speaking some ancient demonic tongue.

“Alright, alright, it seems you’ve recovered your spirits after eating, Qiaolun. How about I give you a tour of this palace? Most people don’t even have the right to enter, you know.”

Seeing Qiaolun’s incomprehension, Yunajin quickly waved her hand and spoke.

“That truly is generous of the Demon Lord… Wait, what did you just call me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Yunajin nodded, ignoring Qiaolun’s displeased expression.

With a single bound, she leaped to his side and gently linked her arm through his.

“Don’t call me Demon Lord. Call me Yunajin.”