Chapter 148 Toy Soldiers
Chapter 148 Toy Soldiers
Katherine reacted instantly—pouring every ounce of speed she had into a blinding slash, flashing her sword in front of her.
“Parade!”
She didn’t know what she was blocking—only that she had to block it.
And then everything happened in a single heartbeat.
She felt herself, Rhogan, and all the girls suddenly lift off the ground.
A surge of black energy erupted from the earth beneath them like a sprung bear trap—exploding upward with violent force.
From below, Iryoku screamed—muscles bulging as he forced his body past every limit.
He grabbed Rhogan—Rhogan, with everyone still clinging to his back—and hurled the massive beast and the girls sideways with every shred of strength he had left.
His entire body shook.
Nerves burned.
Power tore through him—raw and unrestrained.
He moved so violently—lifting far more weight than he ever should—that something inside him cracked.
Only in mid-air did the girls finally understand.
They twisted back toward him.
Iryoku now stood where they had been a second earlier—back hunched, arms dangling, chest heaving.
Their blood ran cold.
“No!” the girls screamed.
The dark-energy bear trap swallowed Iryoku whole—sealing around him like a massive black box.
A wet, sickening sound came from inside.
CRUNCH.
Rhogan collapsed sideways, hurling the girls off his back. He skidded and tumbled more than twenty meters across the dirt.
They hit the ground hard—but all of them immediately spun toward Iryoku, hands glowing, magic flaring, attacks already half-formed as they sprinted.
Katherine reached the black box first, eyes wide with panic.
Aqua’s entire body liquefied—rushing forward like a torrent. Her hands twisted into spiraling water drills as she tore at the dark prison, her fluid face warped with terror.
The others slammed into the box—
Alessandra hammering it with a mace wrapped in energy,
Katherine stabbing her rapier wreathed in Leben,
Christina kicking with armored, glowing boots,
Reika pressing her palm against the surface and flooding it with magic,
Yumi gripping an arrow, channeling power into a drill-tip and stabbing it straight into the shell—
All of them attacking at once, desperate to break through.
Rhogan scrambled to his feet, snorting violently as he rushed to the girls’ side, and rammed the black box with his green-glowing horn.
THUD.
The prison didn’t budge.
And the demonic horde was already there.
They closed in from every direction—forming a tightening wall of monsters.
The black box holding Iryoku sat at the center of a shrinking ring.
Fear twisted across the girls’ faces—grim, desperate—tears rising in their eyes.
“Iryoku!”
“Are you there?!”
“We have to help him!”
“Lord!”
“What do you want, you bastards?!”
“Stay calm!” Katherine snapped—though her voice shook.
She stepped forward—sword raised, magic revolver in her other hand, her whole body coiled for disaster.
But something was wrong.
The entire army had stopped.
Not one monster attacked.
They simply stared—watching.
Even the remaining vulture shamans just stood there, silent, waiting.
Then a deep, resonant vibration rippled through the horde.
A command.
The monsters began to move—
slowly,
deliberately.
They opened a narrow path.
Down that path rolled a decorated carriage, drawn by a massive demonic stag with spiked antlers like a crown of blades. At the reins sat a well-dressed man—clean, composed, unsettlingly normal for a battlefield like this.
A slow, eerie melody drifted out from within the carriage—a tune half-music, half-funeral dirge.
The carriage stopped in front of the girls—
and in front of the massive black box.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
Fear, worry, and tears hung in the air.
A suffocating aura of power leaked from the carriage.
“A demon general…?” Katherine muttered, jaw tight.
Then—another sound came from Iryoku’s prison.
They snapped their attention back toward it.
A grinding pulse.
A shifting pressure of magic.
The black box changed.
Its walls slid apart—reshaping into narrow bars of darkness, until it stood as a gigantic cage.
What they saw inside shattered them.
They gasped—horrified.
Inside, Iryoku stood slumped, staring weakly back at them.
His face was pale—drained—utterly exhausted.
His body was twisted at an unnatural angle, as though he had tried to dodge the glowing magical spikes lining the cage. Despite his impossible reflexes, one spike had still pierced him—deep through the stomach. Blood dripped from his mouth.
And yet—he smiled.
A small, faint, stubborn smile.
“I’m… still alive,” he whispered. “Don’t… worry.”
He looked like a man who had burned every last shred of strength saving them—and now hung pinned in place, held up only by the spike skewering his body.
His eyes lifted to the girls.
Sharp.
Resolute.
The girls trembled.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured to all of them, voice barely audible. “Everything… will be okay.”
Then he slowly turned his gaze toward the carriage—
as if he already had a rough idea of who was inside.
Then the carriage door creaked open.
Two beautiful women stepped out.
Tall. Grey-skinned. Black scales traced across their bodies. Long black nightgowns studded with spikes clung to them. Clawed hands, twisted elegance, and a suffocating aura of darkness marked them unmistakably as demons—akin to Lunara’s or Laila’s transformed state.
One of them carried the strange sound-device—the box producing the ominous background music. The same device they had seen back in Kabalk.
They moved with practiced grace, stepping aside and bowing deeply toward the carriage.
They began to announce,
“We present… the great—”
And then he emerged.
A towering figure—just under two meters, slightly shorter than the two demon attendants—thin in frame yet densely powerful. His limbs were slender but lethal, ending in razor-sharp metallic claws. Reptilian slits marked his pupils, his eyes burning a blood-red hue.
He wore refined, noble attire—immaculate and regal.
Long black hair.
Black obsidian scales across his face and hands.
A perfect top hat—and two long metallic horns jutting from his skull.
A flowing red cape trailed behind him like living fire.
His power—finally unrestrained—poured outward in suffocating waves, a cold pressure that seemed to freeze the air itself.
His deep metallic voice rolled across the battlefield:
“It is good to see you again, mortals. I assumed you died back then. Hahaha.”
The two demon attendants lifted their arms as their voices merged into a ritual chant. The eerie music from the device swelled behind them—deep organ notes pressing down on the atmosphere:
“—the Demon King, Joka’latrex.”
The entire horde—trolls, minotaurs, vultures, shamans, orcs, ogres, goblins, imps—
all dropped to one knee at once.
The impact shook the earth beneath the girls’ feet.
“All hail Joka’latrex!” the army roared.
Yumi and Reika stiffened on instinct, color draining from their faces.
They recognized that impossible creature—
and with the memory came a flicker of hope.
They had survived him once.
Iryoku stared at the demon king without blinking.
The rest of the girls—having heard the stories—stood tense, weapons raised, dread coiling beneath their determination. They had just fought an immortal demon queen not long ago—and now another one stood before them. Yet this one seemed restrained, aesthetic, almost civilized… and infinitely more dangerous.
Joka’latrex strode forward, lifting both arms casually to either side. The two demonic women clasped them at once, escorting him like a divine celebrity taking center stage.
He cast a brief glance toward Iryoku’s group… even Rhogan.
All of them were armed, magic charged—ready to release hell—
but no one dared move.
The Demon King walked right past them.
Straight toward the cage.
“Hahahahaha!”
His booming laughter erupted across the battlefield, the ground trembling with every note.
The girls trembled with it.
“I truly love a good entertainment, mortals,” he said. “You gave me a decent battle. It was quite fun to practice war with real pieces.”
Iryoku met his stare without flinching, fresh blood slipping down his lip.
“Great Joka’latrex…” he said weakly. “Would you be so kind as to play… a new challenge? A new game with me…?”
He spat another line of blood.
The girls winced, pain twisting through their faces at the sight of him like that.
Joka’latrex tilted his head.
“Oh? A game?” He made a mock-sad expression. “But we just played… and you lost.”
A laugh thundered out of him again. “Hahahaha!”
“You had everything to win the game—good synergy between you and your little…” He glanced at the girls for a second. “…harem. Clever tactics.”
His voice turned smug.
“But this was a game of conquest and victory.”
“The win condition for you weak mortals was simple,” he continued. “Enter the castle, defeat a couple of my pets, claim it, and slowly defend it from my army until the last of them died.”
He smiled.
“Or you died.”
Iryoku’s face tightened. He had made the wrong call. How could he have known Joka’latrex himself was the mastermind behind this place—him and his twisted rules and games?
The demon king’s smile widened into something far more sinister.
“Well, you know me. I absolutely hate when players go out of bounds… and don’t finish the game.”
A cold wave spread through everyone present.
Even the two demon attendants—and the nearby lesser demons—shivered.
“But hey—sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.”
He shrugged casually.
“And I must say—you formed a very good group.”
He turned his attention to Iryoku’s girls again.
“All of them are similar,” he mused. “They radiate that dense power… that foreign energy—an amalgam.”
His gaze slid over each of them like a cold blade.
Christina trembled when his eyes touched her—but she forced herself to remain steady.
Then his eyes stopped on Katherine.
“Except this one—the feline. The native.”
He narrowed his gaze.
“She looks… normal. Not like the others.”
Katherine stiffened in surprise.
His attention then shifted toward Agnes and Christina.
“These two—the hare and the elf—are natives as well. They should feel like her. But instead…”
He tapped a claw thoughtfully against his chin.
“…they feel like you. Full of that foreign energy. Outsiders to this realm.”
His eyes flicked to Yumi and Reika.
“Those two—I remember. They accompanied you during our last game with that centaur spellcaster. Naturally, they share your place of origin.”
Then he pointed toward Alessandra.
“And her also…” He studied her with interest. “I did not see her before. She must also be from your original world—like those two girls, and like you.”
He looked up toward the sky, thoughtful—almost amused.
“So… you four can share your power with the natives.”
His smile sharpened at the thought.
“Fascinating. I have never witnessed that before. Your place of origin must be special.”
Reika stepped forward, forcing confidence and respect into her voice.
“Great Joka’latrex… we understand that we lost. But—could we not simply play again?”
She smiled faintly.
“It could be fun to explore different outcomes… to think outside the box. Maybe use a different method.”
Joka’latrex blinked once. Then twice. “Hmm. True, true…”
But his smile slowly faded into boredom as he began walking around Iryoku’s cage.
“However…” he said lightly, “…I don’t feel like playing war with you again. and I already”
Iryoku clenched his jaw.
His breath trembled.
Come on… think of something.
Every nerve in his body screamed in agony, but he forced his expression to remain steady.
“Great King Joka’latrex—I assure you I can fight and entertain you with my power.”
The Demon King turned away casually, as if selecting a new hobby.
“No… now I would prefer to fight a different kind of match. Perhaps the whole army of a kingdom—led by a mortal king.”
A grin crept across his face.
“That could be entertaining.”
One of his attendants—Evelaine—nodded eagerly.
“That is a wonderful idea, my lord.”
The second—Marlivienne—added with a sly smile,
“Just like when we slaughtered those nobles in the castle. They wielded strange magic… but too few warriors. A kingdom’s army would be far more entertaining, my lord.”
Agnes stepped forward, lifting her chin.
“Then, Your Highness… I can arrange that.”
Her voice was tight with resolve.
“I am a princess of the Uruk Kingdom.”
Iryoku stiffened in anger.
Yet her words sparked a flicker of hope in the others.
“If we bring them here and arrange a proper match,” Agnes continued,
“would you be willing to let us go? All of us?”
The Demon King considered it for only a heartbeat—
then smiled.
“Deal.”
The girls’ expressions loosened—but only slightly. Relief mingled with dread.
“But…” Joka’latrex added, lifting a claw,
“let’s make it more exciting.”
His glowing eyes narrowed with amusement.
“Let’s play it like this.”
“You will go,” Joka’latrex said smoothly, “and search for this supposed ‘army’…”
He raised two long claws—mocking quotation marks hanging in the air.
“…and you will bring them over there.”
He pointed toward the far exit of the valley—the same direction they had come from.
“Beyond that point, far away, you’ll find a large river. We shall meet there. My army will march to that place, and I will command them. Of course, I will suppress my power so nobody escapes before the game has even begun.”
He spread his arms theatrically, his cape flowing.
“And naturally, I will not fight directly. I’ll simply be the commander. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fun. Hahaha.”
A deep, booming laugh shook the air again.
“I want this battle to last longer than you did.”
A painful chill seized Alessandra’s heart—and she wasn’t alone. Every girl felt it. The same dread. The same unspoken fear.
“Then…” Alessandra whispered, voice trembling, “what about Iryoku?”
Joka’latrex’s grin sharpened, as though he had been anxiously waiting for that question.
“Oh, him?”
He shrugged lazily.
“He is the loser. He fell into the trap. Losers die—they don’t get to play again.”
He lifted one massive claw—aimed straight at the cage, energy surging around it, massive and overwhelming.
Every heart stopped.
Christina, Yumi, Agnes, Reika, Katherine, Alessandra—every single one stepped forward, forming a barrier between the demon and Iryoku, their energy flaring to the absolute limit.
But the Demon King paused.
His expression shifted—thoughtful.
Then he smiled wider, teeth like blades.
“No… I have a better idea.”
He spread his hand toward them.
“You mortals love your little stories of knights saving damsels in danger.”
With a flick of his fingers toward the cage—
the dark structure dissolved into black mist.
Iryoku vanished before their eyes.
All the girls lunged into the disappearing space reaching, but their hands met nothing.
“Arghhhhhhh!” they screamed. “Where is he?!”
Joka’latrex continued, his voice smooth.
“He is confined in the castle. And to make this more exciting…”
“…he will be suffering the entire time.”
Another trap—black energy—engulfed the girls. They couldn’t escape.
They slammed their attacks into the walls of shadow, Yumi and Reika pouring everything they had into a combined strike. The blue Return Stone glowed fiercely as they prepared their ultimate attack.
The demon’s voice deepened, savoring every syllable.
“Every minute you take to bring me that army—he will scream.”
Reika and Yumi kept forcing energy into the frozen arrow, trembling with rage.
“Let him go—we’ll kill you!” Yumi snarled.
“Let him gooo!” Reika cried, tears spilling down her face.
Agnes’s green stone blazed—she was preparing a massive spell as well, her eyes shining with green light as the magic swelled and expanded.
Aqua and Rhogan’s bodies glowed as energy gathered around them. Orn, flying high above, also swelled with green magic.
Christina, Alessandra—and even Katherine—charged Leben, ready to strike with everything they had.
But the Demon King simply turned to his attendants and nodded.
“Stop them.”
Both demonesses whispered an enchantment and hurled it at the prison.
Everything collapsed at once:
Yumi and Reika’s charged arrow evaporated, its blue light snuffed out.
Agnes’s stone dimmed.
Aqua , Orn and Rhogan’s glow died.
Christina, Alessandra, and Katherine felt their Leben neutralize instantly.
“Okay, that’s all for today. Bye-bye.”
Their prison lifted slowly toward the sky as Joka’latrex turned back toward his carriage.
All their voices broke at once—raw, desperate, shattering.
“Please—let me take his place!” Alessandra cried, her voice cracking. “You would still have a hostage with me.”
“I’ll do it!” Yumi shouted, eyes burning.
“Please—let me do it!” Reika begged.
“Switch him with me!” Agnes pleaded.
Christina’s voice snapped, fear spilling out uncontrollably.
“Leave my god alone! If you need someone to hurt, then hurt me—I’m used to dying!”
Katherine stood frozen.
“I… I will switch—” she began.
But she stopped.
Iryoku’s earlier words echoed in her mind.
She exhaled sharply, turned to the others, and forced the words out:
“Let it go for now. The faster we find that army… the faster we come back.”
“NO!” they screamed together, staring at her in disbelief and pain.
“You fucking coward!” Yumi roared, shaking with rage.
The girls’ grief snapped into pure fury.
Their screams tore free—raw, broken, helpless.
Joka’latrex laughed—metal grinding against metal.
From the sky, Orn screeched desperately and dove straight at him, body and wings striking head-on.
The instant he made contact, Orn shattered—his form breaking apart into dust and wind.
“Ahhh… fascinating,” Joka’latrex mused. “Mortals and their sentimental heroics.”
“Come back later!” he waved mockingly, cackling.
“Don’t worry—he’ll stay alive. I think. Hahaha.”
With another lazy flick of his hand, the cage containing the girls jerked violently.
A shockwave detonated.
The entire group was launched across the sky—blasted away like shooting stars—
their screams swallowed by the roaring wind as the world blurred around them.
Mountains—trees—ruins—blood—sky—
all streaked past in a surreal smear—
until they vanished into the far, distant horizon.