DEMON KING'S Love Redemption

Chapter 10: Punishment in the Library

Fine dust danced in the air, caught by a shaft of evening sunlight filtering through the narrow windows of the Aethelgard Grand Library's highest floor. The silence here was heavy, as if the thousands of ancient tomes lining the massive oak shelves were holding their breath, watching the two figures trapped in their shared punishment.

Vann wiped his brow with a rag that had already turned black with grime. Before him, a fifteen-foot shelf overflowing with dusty parchment scrolls loomed like an insurmountable mountain. As the primary "culprit" who had sent Kael flying through an arena wall the day before, Vann was actually lucky he hadn't been tossed straight into the Inquisition's dungeons. However, being tasked with tidying the library's Forbidden Sector—a place untouched for nearly a decade—felt like a far more grueling psychological torture.

Especially because he wasn't alone.

Three aisles to his right, a girl with pale blonde hair tied in a ponytail worked with lethal precision. Freya van Aethelgard. She hadn't uttered a single word since they stepped inside two hours ago. The only sounds were the rhythmic scrape of cloth against wood and the soft click each time she slotted a book into its perfect position.

Vann stole a glance at her from behind a stack of botanical encyclopedias. In the dim light, Freya's profile looked like a marble carving—cold yet fragile. Her blue eyes, usually sharp and piercing, looked tired. Traces of the previous day's tension lingered at the corners of her gaze.

She is beautiful, Vann thought, his heart aching. In his previous life, when Freya had driven a sword through his heart, this was the last face he had seen. Back then, it had been stained with blood and tears. Seeing her now, living and breathing in this awkward peace, stirred a strange impulse in him to say something. Something sweet. Something normal.

Vann cleared his throat, but the sound emerged as a low growl that vibrated through the library's sacred silence.

Freya froze instantly. Her grip tightened on the copy of Basic Light Theory she was holding. She didn't turn around, but her shoulders went rigid with caution. "If you intend to apologize for the incident in the arena, save your breath, Vann. The Disciplinary Board will decide your fate tomorrow."

Vann winced. "It's not that. I just... I feel like it's too quiet in here."

"This is a library, not a back-alley tavern," Freya snapped. She finally turned, fixing Vann with a look that was hard to read. "And considering you're a 'time bomb' capable of leveling this place with a snap of your fingers, I think silence is the best thing we can hope for right now."

Vann set down his rag, trying to muster the friendliest expression a former dark lord could manage. He wanted to compliment her. He wanted to ease the tension between them. In his mind, he composed a poetic sentence about how the afternoon sun perfectly complemented the color of her hair.

"Freya," Vann called out softly, taking a single step forward.

Instinctively, Freya stepped back. A faint blue glow began to flicker at her fingertips—an unconscious defensive reflex. "Don't come any closer. Say what you want from there."

Vann stopped. He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the cold aura that was inadvertently seeping from his pores due to his nerves. In his mind, he was trying to be sincere. To Freya, however, Vann looked like a monster cornering its prey beneath the shadows of the towering bookshelves.

"I just wanted to say..." Vann looked directly into Freya's eyes. Memories of his death flashed by, mingling with his current admiration. "Your face... in this light..."

Vann wanted to follow up with: 'It is so beautiful, like a goddess descended from the heavens.'

But his deep voice, resonant with dark magic, gave the words a far more sinister edge. The sentence that actually left his mouth was:

"That face of yours... I will remember it until the day I die. I will never let your image leave my mind, Freya."

A silence heavier than before fell between them.

Vann realized what he had said a second after the words hung in the air. In his head, it was a declaration of eternal love. To Freya's ears—having just seen Vann crush a light-magic genius with a flick of his wrist—it sounded like a high-level death threat.

Freya's pale face turned translucent. Her pupils trembled violently. She could feel the air pressure around her suddenly grow heavy, as if Vann's words had been a Soul Bind curse sealing her fate.

"You..." Freya's voice caught. "Did you just tell me you're going to hunt me until I'm dead?"

Vann recoiled, his hands waving frantically. "No! I meant you look beautiful! I'm remembering it because you're so—"

"Stop!" Freya barked, her voice pitching high with a mix of fear and fury. She thrust a finger toward Vann. "You are a cruel monster, Vann. After humiliating Kael, are you openly declaring that I'm your next target? You'll remember my face until you die? Is that a promise that you're going to finish me off?"

"No, Freya, for God's sake, listen to me—"

"I've heard quite enough!" Freya grabbed a stack of books nearby, using them as a futile physical shield between herself and Vann. "Don't think I'm afraid of you. If you really intend to make me your target, then I'll make sure my blade is the last thing you see before you truly die!"

Vann stood stunned. He saw tears beginning to well in the corners of Freya's eyes. The strongest girl in the academy was trembling. And it was because of him. His good intentions, his sincere love, were always distorted by the dark aura that cursed his very existence.

Vann looked down at his hands, still clutching the rag. Between his fingers, wisps of black smoke danced, reacting to his frustration. He realized a bitter truth: in this world, a Demon King had no right to compliment a Hero. Every sweet word would sound like poison, and every smile would look like a death mask.

"I'm sorry," Vann whispered, his voice sounding exhausted and hollow. "I truly am a fool when it comes to words."

Freya didn't answer. She turned away and began shelving books with frantic speed, as if desperate to vanish from the room. The atmosphere became ten times more strained. Every time Vann made the slightest movement, Freya would flinch.

Vann decided to keep his mouth shut. He returned to his shelf, working in an agonizing silence. However, as he shifted a thick volume titled The Chronicles of Ancient Warfare, his fingers brushed something strange behind the back of the shelf.

There was a small gap. A hidden lever.

Vann narrowed his eyes. His Demon King instincts screamed. In a school library as vast as Aethelgard, secret rooms were common, but the energy radiating from behind this shelf felt chillingly familiar. Cold, silent, and... bloodthirsty.

"Freya," Vann said, his voice dropping into a serious tone that held no pretense.

"What now?!" Freya snapped without looking back.

"Come here. Look at this."

Hearing the drastic shift in Vann's voice, Freya's curiosity overrode her fear. She approached with wary steps, maintaining a distance of about six feet. Vann pointed to the gap behind the books.

"There's a locking mechanism here. And it seems to be linked to blood magic," Vann said.

Freya frowned. She leaned in, noticing the faint carvings etched into the blackened oak. "This isn't part of the official library inventory."

"This section is strictly for agricultural and botanical history. Why is there a blood magic seal here?"

Without waiting for permission, Vann threw the lever. He funneled a trace of his shadow mana into the keyhole, manipulating the ancient mechanism from within.

Krrraaaaaakkkk...

The massive bookshelf shuddered as dust rained down from the ceiling. It slid aside slowly, revealing a narrow passage descending into the earth. The pungent stench of rotting parchment and forbidden sorcery billowed out, making Freya cough.

"A secret basement?" Freya whispered. Her fear of Vann was momentarily eclipsed by her heroic instincts. "Aethelgard shouldn't have a place like this."

Vann peered into the abyss of the corridor. He could sense something down there. Something that shouldn't exist during their youth. Something he remembered all too well from his first life.

"Freya, stay back," Vann warned as she stepped forward.

"You have no right to stop me, Vann. If there is something illegal happening at this academy, it is my duty as the Elite Class representative to investigate." Freya conjured a sphere of light in her palm, illuminating the slick stone steps.

Vann let out a long sigh. He knew he couldn't let her go alone. If his suspicions were correct, what lay beneath wasn't just an academy secret; it was part of the conspiracy that had forced them to kill one another in the future.

They descended the stairs in silence. The sound of water dripping from the stone walls felt like the ticking of a clock counting down to disaster. At the base of the stairs, they found a small chamber filled with bizarre artifacts. In the center of the room, atop a stone altar surrounded by eternal black candles, lay a massive tome bound in black leather, featuring the symbol of a closed, single eye.

Freya approached, her light flickering as it brushed against the dark aura surrounding the altar. "This book... the energy is so malevolent. I've never felt anything like it."

Vann froze as he read the title, written in an ancient demonic tongue that only he could decipher.

Anatomy of Light's Weakness.

This wasn't some ordinary grimoire of black magic. It was a research journal detailing Freya's family, the Holy Hero bloodline, and the most effective ways to destroy them from the inside out.

"What does it say, Vann? You've gone pale," Freya asked. She reached out to touch the cover.

"Don't touch it!" Vann shouted.

But it was too late. Just as Freya's fingertips brushed the leather binding, the eye on the book snapped open. A blood-red light surged outward, and a chorus of a thousand whispers echoed through the room.

"Pure blood... the Hero yet to come..."

Instantly, a violet magic circle erupted beneath their feet, trapping Vann and Freya within an impenetrable dome of energy. The exit at the top of the stairs slammed shut with a deafening boom.

Freya immediately drew her ritual dagger. "Vann! What did you do?! Is this your trap?!"

Vann stood in front of her, facing the altar as the book began to hover, lashing out with chains of darkness that hungered for them. "This isn't me, Freya! Someone planned this long before we ever set foot in here!"

Vann realized a terrifying truth. Someone at the academy—perhaps a professor or a high-ranking royal official—already knew about their potential. This library detention wasn't just about cleaning dust. It was bait to ensure they found this book.

"Take my hand!" Vann commanded.

"What?! No!"

"Take my hand if you want to live!" Vann barked, his Demon King authority flaring to life. Stunned, Freya reflexively reached out and grasped his hand.

The moment they touched, a strange sensation surged between them. Light and darkness collided, creating sparks of energy that repelled the chains from the altar. Yet, at that same moment, the book began to whisper words that made Vann's heart stop.

"Vann... the slaughterer... Freya... the exterminator... you have returned to dance once more..."

Freya's eyes widened. She stared at Vann with newfound horror. "What is that book saying? Vann... what does it mean by 'returned'?"

Vann didn't answer. He focused every ounce of his mana on holding back the cursed book's assault. But in his heart, he knew. The secrets of their reincarnations and past lives were beginning to unravel in the most unexpected place.

In the darkness of the library basement, amidst the storm of forbidden magic, Vann realized one thing. The past he had tried so hard to bury had been waiting for them here, ready to drag them back into a destiny soaked in blood.

"I will protect you, Freya," Vann whispered through the roar of the magical gale. "Even if you have to hate me forever for it."

And at that exact moment, the secret book flipped to its center page, revealing a prophecy illustrated in blood: a depiction of Vann cradling Freya's lifeless body beneath the ruins of Aethelgard.

Freya saw the image, and when she looked back at Vann, his eyes had turned a blazing, hellish red—the eyes of the Demon King.