Evan POV

  Okay Evan, deep breaths.

  One thing at a time. Breathe in… don’t flip anything.

  ...yet.

  Evan: “Alright, Aisha, how much money do you have on hand right now?”

  Aisha: “Uhh… 32 gold coins and some silvers.”

  Walter: “Wait, what?! How do you have that much!?”

  Aisha: “The king gave me like 20 for... being me, I guess? Then I looted the Eye of Cthulhu and found more in a chest. What about you, Evan?”

  Evan: “I have 86 gold coins. And some silvers too.”

  Aisha: “Damn! How!?”

  Evan: “Because I do shit, Aisha. I wake up in the morning and do shit. Unlike your royal highness of the Afternoon Nap.”

  Walter: “Okay, okay—so between you two that’s enough, right? Just pool the money and bring me back!”

  Evan: “Not exactly. I still need money to support my family. Fifty gold is all I can spare.”

  Aisha: “So 32 plus 50… That’s 82 gold. We’re only missing approximately 20 gold coins!”

  Walter: “Great! So what’s the fastest way to earn 20 gold?”

  Evan: “Selling stuff, finding chests, killing bosses.”

  Aisha: “The Eye of Cthulhu is easy and drops tons of loot. We just need to kill four of them, right?”

  Evan: “Yeah… but we’d need about 20 lenses, and a Demon Altar or Crimson Altar. And finding one of those right now? Not exactly a walk in the park.”

  Aisha: “Good point. So selling stuff it is?”

  Evan: “Yep. Health potions go for 50 silver each here. That’s a decent start.”

  Aisha: “Wait, what?! Why are they that expensive!?”

  Evan: “Because they don’t know how to make them.”

  Aisha: “Ohhh...”

  Evan: “So, Aisha, I’m putting you in charge of the sales department. Go forth and hawk those potions.”

  Aisha: “Ugh, fine…”

  Evan: “Also—do you know where Lucy, Oswald, or Daisy are?”

  If I want to find out where they’re keeping the cultist prince, Daisy is my best bet.

  Aisha: “Yeah, they’re all here in the castle. But... the air around them was super tense, so I didn’t wanna get involved.”

  Alright! At least I won’t have to waste time playing hide-and-seek around the entire kingdom.

  Evan: “Alright, I’m heading over.”

  Aisha: “Cool, I’ll tell Chara you’re coming. I need to go out and gather materials for the potions.”

  Evan: “You seriously don’t have any bottles, slimes, or mushrooms lying around? Actually, never mind. I already know.”

  Aisha: “Teehee~”

  Evan: “Walter, stick with her. Make sure she doesn’t wander off and ‘accidentally’ find a nap spot.”

  Walter: “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  With that settled, I made my way toward the towering castle gates.

  According to Aisha, the King and Queen were still in shambles after finding out their darling son was elbow-deep in cultist nonsense. If I could talk with Daisy, I might get a chance to squeeze some info out of Mr. Fox-Mask himself—maybe even indulge in a little casual interrogation. Plus, Lucy and Oswald were in the castle too. If I could get all my chess pieces aligned, we’d finally be playing the game again.

  Everything was finally falling back into place.

  As I reached the castle gates, Chara was already there, standing prim and proper with Aisha beside her.

  Aisha turned to Chara. “Alright, I’m off. Oh—and treat Evan’s orders like you would mine.”

  Chara gave a respectful nod. “Understood.”

  Aisha turned to me with a smirk. “Don’t slack off.”

  “Hey, That’s my line.”

  “Teehee~ See ya!”

  And off she ran, probably skipping into a side quest. I sighed and turned to Chara.

  “I need to meet with Lucy and Oswald.”

  Chara nodded and guided me inside. The castle was as unnecessarily majestic as ever.

  Within a minute, we were standing in front of a guestroom door that apparently belonged to my two star students. Or maybe it was just a guest room, but I’d let them have their moment.

  I knocked once, then opened the door—and just like I expected, two surprised faces snapped toward me.

  “Oh hey, Shishou’s here!” Oswald exclaimed, nearly knocking over a lamp.

  “Wha—Why didn’t anyone tell us!?” Lucy added, scrambling to fix her hair.

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  I grinned and strolled in like I owned the place.

  We sat down, and I gave them a quick pep talk for the tournament tomorrow—words of wisdom, subtle threats, the usual teacher-stuff. Then I taught them two spells I'd been meaning to share: Thorn Ivy and Homing Lanterns.

  Thorn Ivy was a nice, earth-element immobilizer—great for pinning someone down and making them regret life choices. And Homing Lanterns? Oh, that one's a triple-shot spell that launches tiny lanterns which follow enemies around and explode. Not much in terms of raw damage, but they’ll stagger anything that breathes.

  They didn’t even act surprised this time. Just casually learned them like it was another Tuesday.

  There was a time they’d ask me how I pulled this off, and I’d just tell them:

  “Because I’m the Hero of Skill.”

  Classic.

  I wished them both good luck, got a proud thumbs-up from Oswald, and a determined nod from Lucy.

  Just in case, I decided to ask Lucy and Oswald about the current situation between the King and Queen.

  “Honestly?” Oswald began, looking unsure. “It’s... pretty terrible.”

  “Yeah,” Lucy added, “they’ve been locked up in their quarters for a while. I mean, finding out your own son is part of a cult? That’s gotta wreck you.”

  I nodded slowly. Can’t really blame them. But now that I think about it, that might also explain how the cultists got such good equipment. Royal connections? Sketchy suppliers? Yeah, makes sense.

  Anyway, I left the two to keep training—or goofing off, whatever it is kids do—and asked Chara if she could bring me to Daisy.

  She stiffened immediately.

  “I would kindly ask, sir,” Chara said, with that signature polite bite of a maid’s voice, “to not refer to Her Majesty in such a casual manner.”

  Ohhh. That’s what this was about.

  “She asked me to call her that,” I replied with a shrug.

  Chara didn’t look happy about it, but at least she didn’t argue further. With a soft sigh, she turned around and began leading the way.

  And there we were again. Facing another one of those unnecessarily extravagant, golden-rimmed castle doors. This one practically had “Do Not Disturb Unless You’re Holding Royal Tea” engraved on it.

  Chara knocked gently, and a quiet, timid voice called out.

  “W-Who is it?” Daisy.

  Didn’t need three guesses to know it was her.

  “Your Majesty,” Chara replied, her tone sharpening. “It is I, Chara. A maid currently assigned to Miss Aisha’s service. I’ve brought her friend Evan. He wishes to speak with you.”

  Wow. Now that was what they call... uh... what’s the word...?

  Right, formal! Man, I was this close to shouting “Yo Daisy, you up?” Glad I didn’t. No point making enemies with the castle staff.

  A few seconds passed before the door clicked open. Daisy stood there wearing a soft, light-pink frilly one-piece that matched her hair perfectly. She looked surprisingly calm, like nothing was wrong at all—despite everyone saying she was a wreck right now.

  “Evan, please come in.” Her voice was gentle.

  “Thanks,” I nodded, then turned to Chara. “Would you mind giving us some time? Private matters.”

  Chara gave Daisy a glance. Daisy nodded silently.

  “As you wish,” Chara said, then bowed and took her leave.

  The door clicked shut behind me. Yup, definitely closed by Chara. Probably with some judgmental glare, too.

  “So, what brings you here?” Daisy asked, her expression troubled.

  “I honestly expected you to be grieving right now,” I said as I sat down across from her.

  She let out a soft, weary sigh.

  “Even if I wanted to, I can’t. Not that much. It’s devastating to Father and Mother’s name, sure… but personally, I didn’t really have much of a connection with him.”

  “Uh huh… so,” I leaned in just a little, “can I tortu— I mean, interrogate him?”

  She blinked. “Huh?”

  “Believe me when I say I can make people spill the beans like their life depends on it.”

  “No, wait—! I can’t allow that! This is a national sec—” she cut herself off mid-sentence, eyes narrowing when she realized what she just said.

  And I smiled. Oh, that was way too easy.

  “Not much of a national secret when I was the one who captured him. You did see me, right?” I said, giving her a cheeky look.

  Daisy folded her arms, clearly weighing the morality of throwing her brother to the wolves—or in this case, to me. If only she knew I am a demon.

  Well, a daemon. With an a. Totally different branding.

  {Author Note: Daemon. Like "Silver Daemon." Not your average back-alley soul collector.}

  “Come on,” I added, pressing my advantage, “I saved your kingdom. You still haven’t repaid me for that.”

  “I-I would’ve sent gifts,” she huffed, “but you always reject them!”

  “Because ‘gifts’ is just code for ‘how can I trap Evan into living here forever and becoming my royal errand boy.’”

  “That's not—!” She paused as she looked away. “…Okay, maybe a little…”

  I leaned back, arms crossed. “Look, I’m doing this for everyone’s sake. It’s not like I’m going to kill him.”

  Not immediately, anyway. Oh no—death would be a mercy.

  She bit her lip in frustration, clearly conflicted.

  “…Alright! Fine!” she snapped. “But I’m staying with you the whole time.”

  “No. You stay here. You’ll just get horrified by normal interrogation methods.”

  She crossed her arms again, this time with a very stubborn look.

  “I’m going too. Or you’re not going at all.”

  …

  Damn it.

  “Fine. Whatever. But if you scream, I’m locking you outside.”

  “Wait! Hold on! What do you mean by that—!”

  Daisy tried to argue, clearly not liking how fast she was being railroaded into letting me do my thing, but right then, we heard a knock at the door.

  “Your Highness. It’s me, Trish.” (Trish)

  Trish, my boi!

  “Ah, come in,” Daisy called out, still distracted.

  The door creaked open, and in stepped Trish in full gleaming silver armor, sans helmet. His face looked as serious as ever. Polished, dignified... classic Trish.

  “Your Highness. I was informed you needed me—wait, Evan?” (Trish)

  “Trish, ma boi!” I said, arms dramatically outstretched like I was welcoming a long-lost brother. “Come give your Papi a little hug.”

  “I’m good.” He said with one of his hand raised to stop me.

  My arms dropped like wet noodles and I stared at the ground, a single imaginary violin playing in the background. So much emotional damage.

  Daisy blinked. “Trish, I didn’t call for you.”

  Trish tilted his head slightly, confused. “I was informed through Chara the maid. Via Wind Letter.”

  Wind Letter. Probably their magical equivalent of DMs.

  “Ohhh, she probably didn’t think I was trustworthy enough to be alone with you and wanted a third party for damage control,” I said. “Dam… She’s good.”

  And by good, I mean she’s got initiative. Which is rare. Most maids I’ve seen are either ‘Yes, milord’ machines or completely oblivious to nuance. Chara, though? She’s proactive. I respect that.

  “Well, Since you’re here…” Daisy said with a shrug, “wanna join us?”

  Trish immediately placed a hand over his heart like a knight in an anime cutscene.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Dammit. I wanted to do this interrogation solo. I already had my menacing one-liners ready.

  Daisy nodded with a satisfied smile and walked out of the room. Trish and I followed behind her, him looking like a bodyguard, me looking like the walking embodiment of “chaos with a plan.”

  One Queen, one knight, and one devilishly charming interrogator. Let’s see how this goes.

  A Few minutes later

  In the depths of the castle… was a flippin’ catacomb. That’s what this place felt like!

  Technically it’s a jail, but holy crap—this thing looked like a budget horror dungeon. Blood was splattered and dried into the stone floor like someone tried using a mop made of anxiety. We were walking down a narrow hallway lined with cells, each one carved directly into the walls. Dim torches flickered along the way, throwing jagged shadows and making everything way more dramatic than it needed to be.

  Some of the cells had… skeletons. And I don’t mean the “hostile mob” type. I mean actual long-dead humans, their bones half-crumpled and covered in dust. You could practically hear the "you shall not pass" echoing off the walls.

  “T-This place has s-some new additions.”

  Daisy's voice wobbled as she led the way, her eyes catching the dark stains near the walls—blood, probably from the cultists we had rounded up. Trish was right beside her, standing tall and completely unfazed, like he walked through catacombs for breakfast. The man’s got nerves of steel.

  Me? I wasn’t scared either. But I couldn’t tell if that was because of my unbreakable will, my Pain Immunity, my Fear Resistance, or just because I have no common sense. Honestly, it’s probably a mix of all three.

  We kept walking until Daisy suddenly stopped and pressed her hand against the cobblestone wall. She started feeling around like she was trying to find the light switch in a blackout.

  Please be a secret wall door. Please be a secret wall door.

  One of the stones—flat and nondescript—sank inward with a soft click. It was a hidden gray switch, disguised perfectly among the rest of the wall. The stone segment slid inward, then shifted sideways with a deep rumble, revealing a hidden passage.

  YES! It is a secret wall door! Secret wall doors are like finding hidden Easter eggs in real life! Probably using active stones and wired mechanisms… I bet those old heroes installed this setup. I mean, they built that Roman-level coliseum too, right?

  ...Wait a second.

  Did they build this whole damn kingdom?

  Daisy looked back at me. “Follow me.”

  ...Just incase you wanna support me...

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