Demon Lord: Erotic Adventure in Another World-Chapter 483: Betrayal and Worry

Alan leaned against his leather chair, gazing at the report from his scouts, but a document left to his side seemed to garner his attention. The movements of Asmodeus and his message made Alan's stomach churn, though he understood the reason it felt like a betrayal of his best friend.

"You're such an idiot, Ryuji." Alan muttered.

He didn't feel anger or rage but worry.

The letter from Asmodeus told him of his plans, and that in case he failed to prepare for the upcoming battle with the women who would return in the next few weeks.

"So you've sent the women carrying your children to their homelands," Alan paused, tapping the desk while reading the message from his brother. "Then you head into the dangerous north with a small army."

Alan's lips twitched in irritation, knowing that Ryuji was always annoying like this.

"But my dear friend..." he paused, while signing the last of his documents that piled up higher than his goblet. "I won't act like you think!"

Although humans struggled with the cold weather in the demon empire, Alan spent the past month preparing them for the final battle. They didn't train to fight special demons or enemies, but to endure extreme temperatures and situations.

"Forgive me Akari, your husband needs to go an save that idiot."

Alan stood from his chair, a smile on his face despite his grumbling and moody tone, and he then nodded as if confirming his thoughts.

"Kathryn!" he called out.

The door opened, and a woman wearing knight armour barged inside, sword in hand, her ethereal silver hair flowing down her back, and dark green eyes glimmering from the morning light.

Her beauty was enough to capture the attention of most men, and even Alan felt his heart skip a beat as the gorgeous knight entered the room and placed her hand across her chest.

"My lord," she said, head bowed in silence.

"You wished to rejoin with my Niece, did you not?" Alan asked, leaning forward with a smile.

Kathryn looked up, surprised, but then nodded. "Yes, I miss her very much."

Alan chuckled and tapped his finger against the table.

He understood that letting her lead the troops north would avoid ruining Ryuji's plan to fight the brunt of the demon armies, while the human kingdoms remained strong enough to repel the mainland's attack. "I can't belive he's grown to think of things like this." Alan commented.

"Lord?" Kathryn questioned.

"Nothing," he said, then raised his eyebrows. "However, I must have you know that even with the two thousand knights, you might not survive," he paused before watching her reaction—nothing. Her gleaming eyes remained focused. "Well, if you really wish to meet the princess then prepare to depart tomorrow at dawn."

"Thank you, Lord."

"Why are you calling me lord, when you only ever served Liana?" Alan asked.

"Because," she started, head bowed, and a fist against her chest plate. "You accepted my request to transfer and, played went along with my selfish request."

"Haa..." Alan signed, shaking his head at this strange woman. He once held a crush on her, but after learning the reason she took distance with his niece, he couldn't help but feel jealous. "So, do you think you can serve her and not succumb to his charms again?"

That's right... because she learned of her master's feelings and knew she also harboured affection towards the arrogant little boy. So she requested a transfer and used a favour he owed her to take part in a play.

But once Akari appeared... that play ended. "Akari found it so amusing when she learned the truth."

"I won't make my princess sad again." Kathryn said.

"Good, then good luck," Alan said, waving her off. He watched as Kathryn gave him one last salute and left. "But, she is probably much different and stronger than you remember. Don't be too shocked."

Alan's lips curled into a bitter smile, thinking about Ryuji, and the way he could probably fight him, but now... instead of Ryuji being the one who lost when serious,

"It would be me losing now..." He whispered while Kathryn tilted her head.

"Can I leave, Lord?"

"Do whatever you want," Alan replied, waving his hand as he leaned back.

In the dark office, which didn't let the morning light through as Alan rocked on his chair, creaking with each bounce. He wanted to fight with Ryuji, but their promise came back to haunt him.

"Will the mainland really attack the continent like he said... I should contact my brother."

***

Meanwhile, in the cold north, Asmodeus and his army finally reached their goal... in the distance, a grand castle fortress built into the mountains faced them. But to reach that fortress, the land filled with demons, turning snow dark with their bodies... an army of demons blocked their passage.

The cold no longer bit—it carved.

Even with blood-warmed cloaks and protective enchantments laced into every soldier's armour, the wind chilled their thick skin. It howled across the jagged peaks like a starving beast, raking through the army's formation with invisible claws.

Asmodeus stood at the forward ridge of a frozen valley, his cloak fluttering violently behind him, the frost clinging to his boots like chain mail.

Before them, blanketed in an eternal snowfall, high upon a mountain's curved spine, rose the pale spires of Zar'Kaleth.

It was not black like Vel'Ashera, nor did it gleam with obsidian flame. This fortress was a thing of white silence, a towering cathedral of stillness and death. And buried beneath layer after layer of thick snow, the stone walls were frostbitten and regal. No banners hung. No fires burned.

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And yet it breathed.

Ice climbed its walls like veins. Frost pulsed along its outer towers, creating soft puffs of snow that drifted downward, falling eternally, as if the very sky refused to forget who ruled here.

"It's beautiful," Asmodea murmured beside him, the wind brushing through her crimson hair. "And completely wrong."

"It wasn't like this in the records," Vinea said, her arms folded, one boot tapping hard-packed ice. "There were gates. Ramps. A lower fortress."

"They're gone," Levia said. "Or buried."

"Not buried," Lumina whispered, her eight eyes shimmering. She crouched, placing her palm on the snow-covered ridge. "This place... grows."

Asmodeus remained silent.

He could feel it—beneath his boots, through the soles of his armour.

The mountain wasn't just cold. It was awake.

Zar'Kaleth hadn't started this way.

It had become something else. Taller and wider. Bled into the mountainside like ice reclaiming a grave. Spires that didn't exist in the original plans now clawed at the sky. Bridges arched like ribs across hidden chasms. And not a sound came from within.

Asmodeus couldn't hear the jingle of bells, the churning of horns... only snow and the silence of a tomb. He narrowed his eyes. "The land isn't reacting to our presence. It's warning us."

Then a scream sounded. It was short, human and close.

The officers turned as one, weapons half-drawn—but it was only a single man: One of the scouts sent ahead minutes ago.

He stumbled into view at the crest of the path, eyes wide, face locked in a rictus of terror. He opened his mouth—perhaps to shout something.

But no words came.

Only ice.

It spread from his lips, over his cheeks, crawling like living frost. His body froze in real time, encased in translucent blue, hands half-raised in warning.

By the time Levia reached him, he was a perfect statue.

His mouth open, as if to shout, his eyes bulging to show his shock and confusion. The poor man was now breathless and gone.

Levia's hand trembled slightly at her side, but she said nothing.

"Was it a spell?" Vinea asked.

"No," Asmodeus answered, crouching beside the frozen corpse. "The wind. The frost. It's infused with her power."

He stood and pointed down the slope.

There, just at the edge of the valley, the snow was no longer white.

It had turned translucent, almost glasslike, veins of unnatural blue snaking through it like lightning frozen in time. The ice shimmered beneath the surface, reflecting faint images that moved when they shouldn't.

Asmodeus stepped back from the ridge.

"Establish camp here. Burn the outer perimeter. No one passes into the lower valley until I've tested the snow."

Lumina was already weaving silk barriers.

Levia called the demon knights and started preparing frost-resistant armour of resistance. Vinea gave orders to secure the ridge and set wooden pikes along the pass.

Asmodea cracked her knuckles, a vine of red blooming down one arm like a lazy snake. "She wants to play with snow? Let's see how well she handles fire."

Asmodeus turned toward the castle again.

This land almost felt beautiful if it wasn't for the legion of demons below, monsters twisted by her constantly unstable flow of frigid magic.

Zar'Kaleth lingered in the distance, trapped in silence, icy spires looming in the storm, too tall for the human eye to count. There were no lights in the windows. No sign of life.

Only snow.

Endless, perfect snow.

"Then let her kingdom freeze," he muttered. "I'll still bury her in it."

Asmodeus touched his chest, narrowing his eyes into a frown. The bitter taste on the wind reminded him of the sigil, which throbbed with each step closer that he came to the castle.

A sense of dread grew just gazing upon the deformed fortress.

The hot throbbing sigil reminded him of the dangers that they would face, and that the more time passed, Asmodeus could feel her strength growing each day.

"There isn't enough time..."