DEMON KING'S Love Redemption

Chapter 18 Snapped Fingers

Vann landed silently on the ground, tucked safely behind a large tree to remain unseen. He immediately suppressed his mana to zero, making his face look pale and frail. He slumped down, pretending to have fainted.

An absolute silence descended upon the Forbidden Forest. Professor Mordred, Kael, and the other students stood up slowly, their faces masks of utter confusion.

"Where... where did it go?" Kael asked, his voice trembling. "It was just there... and then it vanished?"

Mordred walked toward the spot where the Goblin King should have been. He saw a small hole in the ground, ten meters deep but only the diameter of a fist. No remains, no blood. Only pure emptiness.

"Total annihilation..." Mordred muttered, his eyes wide with terror. "It wasn't just destroyed... it was erased from existence. Who... who could have done this?"

Meanwhile, Freya stood frozen. She hadn't seen Vann do it. She hadn't seen anyone. But as she stood where the creature had disappeared, a familiar, chilling sensation crawled from her feet to her heart.

She took a long, sharp breath, her eyes suddenly snapping wide.

In the seemingly empty air, there lingered the traces of a scent no ordinary nose could detect—the aroma of rotting roses, the chill of cold iron, and a trail of mana so dense it felt like thick oil clogging her magical senses.

Freya dropped to her knees, her fingers brushing the dirt at the edge of the small crater. There, she found a tiny speck of black fluid that still seemed to pulse. The moment her skin made contact with the liquid, a flash of a vision slammed into her mind.

She saw a blackened fortress beneath a blood-red sky. She saw a man seated upon a throne of skulls, his crimson eyes locked onto hers with a burning intensity. And most harrowing of all, she felt an agonizing pain sear through her chest—the sensation of a holy blade piercing the heart of someone she... loved?

"This energy..." Freya wheezed, tears streaming down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. "I know this energy."

The memories rushed back like a flood. They were glimpses of a future yet to pass, or perhaps a life already lived. This was the energy of the Demon King, Vann—the man who, in her nightmares, had razed her kingdom and slaughtered her family. The same man she had eventually killed with her own hands.

"It is impossible..." Freya shook her head violently. "That Vann... he is only sixteen years old. He is nothing but a clumsy, low-ranking student."

She scanned the line of students, searching for Vann. She found him being helped to his feet by Elric; the boy looked deathly pale, coughing weakly as if he were merely a victim of the sudden atmospheric pressure.

"Vann!" Freya called out, her voice sharp and laced with desperation.

Vann turned, his face a mask of perfect confusion. "Lady Freya? Are you alright? Thank goodness that monster... it just seemed to spontaneously explode."

Freya marched toward him, not stopping until they were mere inches apart. She searched for a flicker of crimson in his eyes, some hint of a lie behind that innocent face. But all she found were deep black irises looking back at her with what seemed like genuine concern.

"Did you see it, Vann?" Freya asked, her voice trembling. "Did you see who snapped their fingers just now?"

Vann blinked, appearing to think hard. "Snapped their fingers? I didn't see anyone, my Lady. I just saw a blinding flash of purple light, and then I was thrown back behind this tree. Maybe it was... some kind of automatic defense spell from the academy?"

Freya did not answer. She grabbed Vann’s right hand, pulling it toward her roughly to inspect his fingers. There were no marks, no lingering mana residue. His hand felt warm and slightly damp with sweat.

However, as she held his hand, she realized something far more chilling. The scratch on her cheek—a small wound from a stray branch—began to throb with warmth. It was as if her own blood recognized Vann's presence as its master.

"Everyone, back to the academy at once!" Mordred commanded, his tone grave. "Field practice is over! We must report this to the Holy Inquisition immediately!"

As they began their trek out of the woods, Freya lagged behind, staying right by Vann’s side. She no longer looked ahead; her eyes remained fixed on the back of his hand.

She knew what she felt. As a Hero, her instincts were never wrong. The energy that had just obliterated the Goblin King with a single snap was the exact same power that had destroyed her world in her nightmares.

Who are you, really, Vann? Freya thought. Why save me with the very power meant to kill me? And why... why does my heart feel so utterly shattered when I feel your energy?

Vann kept walking, his expression a blank slate. Internally, he was cursing himself. That snap had saved Freya’s life, but he knew he had let too much of his true essence leak out.

I had no choice, Vann thought. That Goblin King was sent by someone to kill you, Freya. If I must become a demon again to keep you breathing, then so be it.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, plunging the Forbidden Forest into total darkness. As they passed through the academy gates, Vann could feel eyes watching him from the shadows—not monsters, but messengers of the gods who were beginning to realize that the Demon King had returned, albeit with a very different purpose.

"Vann," Freya whispered suddenly, making him turn.

"Yes, Lady Freya?"

"Tomorrow night, under the linden tree in the back garden... be there," Freya said without looking at him. "You have some explaining to do. And don't you dare try that 'artifact' excuse again."

Freya walked away, leaving Vann standing frozen in the middle of the academy courtyard.

Vann stared down at his own fingers. One lethal snap had saved a life, but that same snap had just brought down the wall of lies he had so painstakingly built.

"It seems," Vann whispered to the moon that was beginning to rise, "the time for play-acting is almost at an end."

In the distance, atop Aethelgard’s highest tower, Professor Mordred stood looking toward the forest, clutching a black crystal that had shattered in two. "One lethal snap," he murmured with a faint, chilling laugh. "Welcome back, Your Majesty."