Story Reader / Affection / Vera: Geiravor / Story
The fate between the hero and Demon Lord was predetermined from the start.
As the hero's first battle after leaving the village, the Demon Lord is meant to be nothing more than an experience farm, not even worthy of being called an "obstacle."
Embraced by the softness of the feather bed, the hero drifts into deep slumber while the system in their mind tirelessly reviews the script's progression:
Hero, storms the Demon Lord's castle, ends up imprisoned.
To kill the Demon Lord, first gain affection, and trust.
—Indeed, the hero isn't born invincible. At their first destination after leaving the village, armed with only a sword, the hero truly suffered defeat at the Demon Lord's hands and was imprisoned in the garden of thorns.
Though the hero's gift may allow them to dispel all dark curses, their fragile human body remains no match for the sharp-thorned brambles and towering castle walls.
In this dire situation, conventional tactics would no longer suffice to defeat the Demon Lord, so the hero quickly devised a new approach.
The system "takes a deep breath":
—As the script dictates, the hero observes carefully and discovers a <color=#ff4e4eff><b>curse</b></color> that can restrain the Demon Lord.
—After gaining the Demon Lord's trust, the hero boldly summoned the curse during a grand castle ball, causing it to devour the Demon Lord.
—The story concludes with a finale of fighting fire with fire, bringing great satisfaction to all.
The hero nearly shouts out in their sleep, then immediately hears the crisp sound of birdsong.
The hero awakens from deep slumber as the soft morning light and delicate first snowflakes filter through the window together.
A system prompt appears perfectly timed before their eyes.
"Main Mission Objective Updated: Continue to Raise [Demon Lord Vera]'s Affection - Progress: [Accepted] Demon Lord Affection: -10 Final Objective: Demon Lord Affection 100 Countdown: 40 Hours"
Staring at the affection value on the system interface—a number far from the target goal—you frantically search your memory for any relevant knowledge on the subject.
I want to see our hero first thing when I wake up tomorrow.
I won't be pleased if all you're going to do is run your mouth.
The first rays of dawn have just begun to peek over the horizon.
There's still some time before Vera sees you.
Before then, according to common relationship-building strategies from various scripts and games,
You should first prepare a suitable gift for her.
But as a confined "prisoner," how could you possibly prepare anything?
Your eyes sweep across the sparse furnishings of the room, then drift toward the window. Outside, a garden of brilliant red roses blooms, strikingly vivid against the falling snow.
Muffled arguments from outside the door interrupt your planning.
You idiot! Are you trying to weasel out of this small task?! You're always calling me "bro," but the moment something needs doing, you turn into a complete coward!
The decision's final. I'll guard the suspicious human in the attic, and you'll clean up the rose garden.
I-I have to w-work in the g-garden... while b-bro just... s-sits here...
How dare you talk back to me? I'll show you just how fearsome your bro can be!
B-bro... Aaaah... S-stop h-hitting me!
The two guards—one who was doing the hitting and one who was taking the beating—stop their scuffle. Upon seeing the hero, they immediately draw their weapons with wary expressions.
By the Demon Lord's order, you are forbidden to leave this room even a single step!
What help could you possibly offer?
N-no way. What if y-you try to e-escape... R-right, b-bro?
Techno steps closer, pointing his weapon menacingly.
I'm warning you, don't try to escape.
...What could she possibly blame us for?
The hero suddenly points a finger at the stuttering guard, Howitzer.
I'm c-completely loyal to my l-lord! I never s-spread any rumors!
I-I... Bro! Help me out!
Howitzer anxiously looks toward his colleague for help, while the hero suddenly whips around to point at Technor.
What am I guilty of?!
Huh?! What assumptions have I made? And what exactly did I do wrong?
The hero suddenly backs away several steps, then leaps onto the wide-open window. Snowflakes swirl in with the cold wind, causing the hero's body to sway precariously.
Hey! Get down from there! What are you doing?!
Nonsense! (N-nonsense!)
The hero clings to the window ledge, waving politely.
Swoosh—
The hero spreads their arms wide and falls backward from the window.
Grab the human! (G-grab the human!)
WAAAAAHHH—
Now, three suspicious figures creep stealthily through the castle corridor.
The oppressive atmosphere stems not only from the dim building itself, but also from the vigilant eyes watching closely from both sides.
...Fine, we'll do it your way for now, but you must not let the Demon Lord find out! Otherwise we're all done for!
You scheming human...
Even after temporarily "winning" this round, the feeling of being escorted as a captive remains uncomfortable.
<i>Fortunately... the garden that appears before you softens the atmosphere just in time.</i>
<i>The castle in the morning light bears no trace of yesterday's gloomy first impression. Remarkably, red roses bloom in full glory beneath the falling snow.</i>
<i>The hero gently brushes snow from the petals, trims away withered leaves, and carefully cups the frozen flowers in their hands.</i>
<i>After some time, the flower in hand regains its vitality under the nurturing warmth, and the hero plucks it from the bush.</i>
Stop this pointless nonsense and hurry up. Tear out all these roses and trample them—not a single one should remain. Like this, understand?
As the guards speak, they violently tear roses from the garden beds and crush them underfoot.
The once-blooming rose garden transforms into ruins within moments under the guards' violent rampage.
Stop asking so many questions and watch your mouth! If you don't hurry up and work, she'll take your head right off!
After a moment's thought, the hero carefully tucks the rose inside their clothing.
H-hey, are you trying to get yourself killed? If you keep that flower... the D-Demon Lord will be fur—mmph!
Shh! Hurry up and finish the work, then take the human to the Demon Lord. Don't say anything else.
If the human wants to die so badly, that's not our problem.
From the guards' scattered remarks, the hero gazes at the ruined rose garden as a faint suspicion begins to form.
Ah... My Lord! (Ah, M-My L-Lord!)
Before you could inquire further, the guards' faces display that familiar look of panic as they bow toward someone behind you.
Without turning around, you know that their "Demon Lord" now stands right behind them.
Turning around, you are met with Vera's cold, expressionless face.
You seem eager to find out what punishment awaits those who break the rules.
Remember what I said—the prisoner is not to take a single step outside that room without my orders.
Upon hearing the hero's words, the Demon Lord raises an eyebrow with slight interest.
What little trick are you trying to pull now?
...Is this your so-called "gift"?
But the moment she sees the rose, the Demon Lord's expression darkens once more.
She closes in instantly, and before you can make out what she is doing, a cold, hard object presses against your neck.
Without looking, you know it is a sharp dagger—the blade slowly glides across your skin, bringing a faint sensation of pain.
You dare to give me something like this... Was it truly unintentional?
Did my subordinates not tell you what "roses" mean to me?
She whispers into the hero's ear while slowly crushing the rose beneath her toe.
In yesterday's prison, the "Demon Lord" who looked exactly like Vera seemed to have whispered something, but there was no time to make it out then.
Might as well... double check now.
The hero maintains their tense posture, lifting the rose slightly higher—just like that time beneath the ruins, when they, burning with fever, clutched a handful of fiery red hair.
...!
The Demon Lord's expression freezes for a moment.
After a moment of silence, the cold, imposing pressure against your neck eases—she lowers her blade.
...You're still too confident about your situation. Next time, you won't be so lucky.
The blade barely grazes the human's hand—snip! Vera cuts the rose from the hero's grasp, pinching it delicately between her fingertips.
She gently brushes the flower against her cheek, seemingly contemplating how to deal with the person before her.
Get back to your cell. I don't want to see you again.
After tossing out that cold command, she dismisses the entire charade and walks away.
ZZZZT!
Do not address my lord by name!
As the hero attempts to follow, guards block the way with their weapons while the system issues another warning their mind.
Vera ignores the hero's call completely, her fiery red silhouette quickly vanishing into the snowy landscape.
What seemed like a failed attempt suddenly gives way to contemplation as a system notification appears.
"Main Mission Objective Updated: Continue to Raise [Demon Lord Vera]'s Affection - Progress: [Accepted] Demon Lord Affection: -10 Final Objective: Demon Lord Affection 100 Countdown: 40 Hours"
Main Mission Objective Updated: Continue to Raise [Demon Lord Vera]'s AffectionProgress: [In Progress]Demon Lord Affection: 20Final Objective: Demon Lord Affection 100Countdown: 39 Hours
The negative "Affection" value flickers several times before slowly climbing to 20.
Hah, how absurd...
The Demon Lord looks at the rose in her hand—then shifts her gaze to another "glass case" before her.
Within a transparent dark magic barrier, a blood-red rose reflects the faint glow of moonlight.
This is the very rose that bears her fate, marking the countdown for both herself and this castle—that detestable "rose."
...What an eyesore.
Just sitting there, emitting that nauseating fragrance—are you mocking me, you deranged system?
BZZZZZZT—
...Ugh! What's wrong, afraid I won't follow your script?
As if something has pierced her M.I.N.D., the Demon Lord tightly clutches the rose in her hand and turns to thrust open the window.
She stretches out her hand, ready to cast the rose into the howling snowstorm.
The fierce blizzard whips her crimson hair into the air, its brilliant red strands flowing indistinguishably from the rose petals in her hand.
But the Demon Lord's hand slows—she cannot bring herself to let go.
"Red... like fire."
Even with a dagger pressed against their throat, that person would still utter those words, as if purely wanting to offer a flower.
—Yet the probing gleam in their eyes was impossible to ignore.
My little Commandant is trying so hard... Ugh!
She challenges the system's punishment again and again. As pain surges through her M.I.N.D., the hero's words play on repeat.
"The fire is here."
Haha... Hahaha...
She smiles with sudden understanding.
If I keep just this one flower, will it bring the curse one step closer, System?
The system gives no response.
It doesn't matter. Seems you don't even know your own doom approaches.
The Demon Lord suddenly withdraws her hand, turns to face the mirror, and pins the rose given by the hero into her hair.
The vibrant rose blooms amid her red hair, just as the hero said—the petals' hue perfectly complementing her crimson locks.
Very well... A Demon Lord should indeed keep company with cursed objects.
A petal falls from the rose at her temple, descending weightlessly to the ground without making a sound.
And withering alongside it is <color=#Ff4e4eff>"that rose"</color> under the glass dome—it too silently sheds a petal.
The Demon Lord looks down.
<color=#Ff4e4eff>That rose</color> has but a few petals left on its stem, with layers of fallen ones piled beneath.
When the last petal falls, you and everything in this castle will face annihilation.
Will this story continue to follow that cliched script? I don't think so.
She raises her fist and smashes it against the glass dome once more—a gesture she has made countless times since becoming the "Demon Lord."
A thunderous crash and shattering sound ring out as sharp pain spreads across her hand, accompanied by the warm sensation of liquid trickling down.
The glass dome housing the rose remains completely intact, but the small table beside it has been smashed into pieces under her powerful blow.
I hope the story's development won't disappoint me.
She slowly slides her fingertips across her lips, coating them with blood. Soon, she tastes the warm, sweet metallic flavor.
Then, she presses her fingers together and lets out a whistle.
Fweet—
Fweet—
The far-reaching whistle pierces through the winter night and falling snow, reaching the ears of that person in the dungeon.
The hero lies on the damp, cold floor and slowly opens their eyes upon hearing the sound.
A seemingly meaningless whistle has been sent out, but the system shows no reaction.
The Demon Lord smiles as she looks into the mirror—invisible shadows slowly creep toward her.
No need to be so impatient...
When the time comes, I'll properly face that curse.
