Ch. 7
Chapter 7. The “Demon Lord” Who Wants to Make Friends After Reincarnation!
While Yan was telling Giselle the story of the Knight, not the Demon Lord.
In this world—
The true Demon Lord, at this very moment, sat with her delicate, beautiful face expressionless, gazing out at the sky beyond her palace.
Beneath her pale-gold hair shimmered a pair of ice-blue eyes, pure and clear like snow.
Her skin was as fair as fresh-fallen frost, her limbs slender, her figure in perfect proportion—like that of an angel sculpted by the heavens.
This girl, radiating overwhelming charm, was none other than the being people called the Demon Lord—the very "terrifying Demon Lord" who, in the tales sung by bards, was always slain in a desperate reversal by some pitiful excuse for a hero.
Of course—
Those stories were all lies.
In this world, there never existed any hero capable of defeating the Demon Lord.
The so-called "heroes" were nothing more than fabricated, imagined characters.
‘I am…’
The Demon Lord sat holding a fruit, as red and glossy as an apple from Earth, cupped gently between her hands. Her clear, expressive blue eyes stared blankly at it.
‘So lonely…’
The word drifted through her mind like a sigh.
Just moments ago, a maid outside the palace had tripped. The basket she carried spilled, scattering fruit everywhere.
The Demon Lord had stepped forward to help pick them up—but in return, the maid recoiled from her in fear.
She remembered how, no matter what she said, the maid had refused to even raise her head. Instead, the girl had knelt trembling on the ground, face pressed into the floor, shivering.
Not skilled at expressing emotions, the Demon Lord had only spoken in her usual flat tone: "You don't need to be so formal with me. Raise your head."
But her words only made the maid shrink back even further, more terrified than before.
Now, the girl sat with her knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them, chin resting lightly atop. Her icy blue eyes remained fixed, dazed, on the vivid red fruit in her hands.
She didn't understand—why was everyone so afraid of her?
And so she remembered.
From the moment of her birth, she possessed magic so immense it could distort reality itself.
Those around her had called her the "Perfect One," a "Child of the Divine."
Anything she spoke aloud would inevitably come to pass—her words strong enough to interfere with the very laws of the world.
It was the greatest blessing the heavens had ever bestowed upon her—and also the heaviest curse.
The world had "indulged" her with too much power. That love became poison, leaving wounds that could never heal.
Once her extraordinary talent was discovered, her father, the Duke, dedicated everything to cultivating her.
From childhood onward, she studied only magic—endless training, endless lessons.
Her father permitted her no other life.
And so, it continued until she turned sixteen, when her coming-of-age ceremony arrived.
That year, a mighty being from the Abyss cast its eye upon this world—upon the fertile lands of her homeland.
She was pushed to the front lines, forced to battle the dreaded "Demon God Pillars," said to descend from the Abyss itself.
In that war, she crushed all opposition with overwhelming might. It was only natural that she won the final victory.
But without realizing it, the people had given her a new, dreadful title— "The Demon Lord."
And from that day on, she was feared by all.
"Just like this—"
"It's exactly like the monsters in those stories."
The girl stared blankly at the "red" fruit in her hands, muttering faintly, without much interest.
The vivid color of the fruit was something she had never once seen in her own life.
And for the very first time, on that delicate, expressionless face appeared a faint trace of expectation.
How she wished—
To possess a brilliance as vivid as this.
If she ate it, would her life become as bright as the fruit itself?
Such simple, innocent, fantastical thoughts flickered across the girl's mind.
If those people, who so feared her power, were to witness this scene...The very same people who claimed she could never show a shred of human emotion—The same ones who branded her with names like "Cold and Ruthless Demon Lord," and "God-Slaying Weapon."
Those bishops of the Church, those so-called sages of the Kingdom—just imagine what kind of looks would be on their faces right now!
... The "Demon Lord" carefully lifted the fruit, as red as an apple, in her hands.
That vivid "red," brimming with life, was like the forbidden fruit that once tempted Adam and Eve.
She took a small bite. Sweet juice mingled with tender flesh spread across her tongue.
But nothing else changed.
Even after finishing the entire fruit, the girl once again fell into confusion.
She—
Was truly, utterly "lonely."
Ever since she had been given the title of Demon Lord, even her only family—her father, the Duke who had raised and trained her since childhood—no longer dared to appear before her.
He, too, feared the terrifying power that defied all logic and reason.
He no longer had the confidence to control her.
And it had been a very long time since the girl had last seen her father visit this palace.
After spacing out alone for a while, the "Demon Lord" finally stood up again, wandering aimlessly through the halls.
The little strand of hair atop her head drooped lifelessly.
‘I really... want to make friends.’
Though she bore the exalted title of Demon Lord, the girl's heart held a wish unknown to anyone—so plain, so ordinary.
Yet this ordinary wish, which any common human could fulfill with ease, was one she could never realize.
Sometimes she even wondered—was she really "human"?
Born as the "strongest," she was feared even by the gods above for her power.
A being like her... had never been normal from the very start.
She has been this way since the moment of her birth—
......
The "Demon Lord" began to step out of her own palace, into the outside world.
Using magic to conceal her presence, she wandered through the city streets.
The girl looked on with a trace of envy at the children chasing one another, laughing and playing in the roads.
When her gaze shifted, she caught sight of a child being praised by his mother, who gently patted his head. At that moment, a faint ripple of emotion crossed her face.
Scenes like these, so warm and beautiful, stirred again and again at the solitude in her heart.
For the girl who had been born as the "strongest," she had never once experienced feelings called "friendship" or "family."
And as for "love"—such a thing she dared not even dream of.
"?"
Suddenly, as she passed by a small alley—
The Demon Lord's delicate, flawless face froze.
She saw a mother, cradling her baby as she chatted and laughed with other women.
That glow of happiness radiating from the mother, that gentle, tender expression, and the soft gaze she constantly turned toward the infant in her arms—left the Demon Lord transfixed.
The little cowlick on her head suddenly stood upright, her eyes lighting up.
'... That's right.' The girl's eyes, bright with excitement and longing, locked onto the baby in that mother's embrace.
A daring thought was born in her heart.
'Such a simple method... and I never once thought of it.'
In her eyes flickered a glimmer of pure, angelic anticipation.
'All I need is to begin again.'
'Yes... just start over!'
For the first time, her lips curved into a smile—radiant, pure, beautiful, like that of an angel.
'If I am reborn as a new life... then I can finally make friends.'
'The wishes I could never fulfill in this life—I'll bring them into the next, and live them out to the fullest!'
Talking with friends, studying together, laughing, and playing joyfully.
Just like those children she had seen before, she could chase and tumble and giggle with companions.
She could even experience, once more, that "family warmth" she had never known in this life.
Such fulfilling days awaited her!
——Light!
The Demon Lord's figure suddenly appeared in the middle of the city, causing cries of shock, panic, and confusion to ripple through the crowd.
But the girl no longer cared for any of that.
Her body began to radiate a dazzling brilliance—white-hot, shining as beautifully as the light of a star.