Chapter 100: How Did Demons Who Looked To Be On The Verge Of Death Recover So Easily?
Chapter 100: How Did Demons Who Looked to Be on the Verge of Death Recover So Easily?
Elyn’s POV
"Ignivar," I said sharply, already moving. "Morthen—help him."
Morthen reacted instantly. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t hesitate. He adjusted his glasses and moved toward the desk the voice had come from, crouching down and reaching carefully around the mountain of parchment.
When Ignivar finally came into view, my breath caught in shock.
He looked... wrong.
He wasn’t injured, nor did he look like he was hurt, but that wasn’t enough. Everything about him looked wrong—extremely so.
His usually solid frame looked hollowed out, his clothes hanging loosely on his body as if they no longer belonged to him. His skin had lost its healthy color, stretched thin over bone. His hair, which was normally a vibrant mix of flame-like colors, looked dull, like it didn’t belong to him at all. His eyes had lost their color too.
It was like I was experiencing déjà vu because this was exactly how Naviel looked right now—so different from normal.
Ignivar leaned heavily on Morthen the moment the moth demon helped him up, like his body had forgotten how to support itself.
I stared in disbelief because this was horrifying. What did Zorathys give these demons to make them look like this?
I turned slowly.
Very slowly.
Zorathys met my gaze, and the instant our eyes locked, he knew.
My glare could have shattered stone if I was a demon.
"What," I said carefully, every word sharp with restrained anger, "did you give them to do?"
Zorathys blinked once, clearly unimpressed by my tone. "Work."
My fingers curled at my sides.
"What kind of work?"
"The kind they are supposed to do," he replied easily. "It wasn’t bad at all."
I laughed.
It came out wrong—short, disbelieving, edged with something ugly.
"That," I said, gesturing at Ignivar, then at Naviel slumped nearby, "is not ’not bad at all.’"
"They’re fine," Zorathys said, yawning slightly. "They just need to finish."
I stepped closer.
"No," I said. "They are not going to finish whatever punishment you gave them. You are going to take over."
He frowned at me like I’d said something deeply inconvenient. "I’m tired."
"And they are dying," I snapped.
"If you’d just let them do the work," he said lazily, "they’d finish it."
I turned fully toward him now.
"I don’t care," I said. "They don’t even look recognizable."
Zorathys glanced at Ignivar again, then at Naviel, who hadn’t even lifted his head yet.
"They look like themselves to me."
My vision swam with anger.
"You," I said, my voice trembling now, "are going to do the work."
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then he sighed.
A long, dramatic sigh, like I’d just told him he’d lost a nap he’d been looking forward to.
"Fine," he said. "Don’t get angry. I’ll do it."
The moment the words left his mouth, the air changed.
I felt it before I saw it—something subtle but undeniable, like pressure releasing all at once.
Ignivar straightened abruptly.
Morthen stumbled back in surprise as Ignivar’s weight shifted—not heavier, but right. Flesh filled back in where there had been hollowness. Color returned to his skin. His shoulders squared, his spine straightened, and his eyes cleared as if someone had wiped fog from glass.
Naviel gasped.
I turned just in time to see him push himself upright, his body reforming in seconds. The sharp angles softened, muscle returning, vitality flooding back into him like a tide rushing home.
Around the room, shadow demons stirred.
One by one, they stood.
Shoulders rolled as if testing their strength.
It was as if the exhaustion that had overtaken this office had never existed.
I stared.
It was like a miracle, or some weird transformation had taken over the office.
Naviel immediately began picking up the papers near his feet. Ignivar did the same, picking up parchments around the office.
"No, no, no," he said quickly. "We’re fine, Your Highness. Perfectly fine."
Naviel nodded at once, already moving. "There’s no need, Your Highness. We can handle it. We can do the work."
Shadow demons began gathering parchments, stacking reports, restoring order as if nothing had happened.
I felt like I’d stepped into a nightmare.
"No," I said firmly. "Stop."
Neither of them listened.
Naviel scooped up another stack of documents. "It’s really alright. We’re fully capable of doing the work. The king doesn’t need to do it for us."
"That’s enough," I said, stepping forward.
Zorathys watched the chaos with mild interest, like this was a street performance rather than a crisis.
"I’m already doing the work," he said flatly. "Drop the papers."
Naviel shook his head. "Zor—Your Majesty, I insist. I can work. I’m perfectly healthy. You don’t need to work."
I didn’t even think.
I walked over, took the papers straight out of Naviel’s hands, and turned.
I placed them firmly into Zorathys’s arms.
"Do the work," I told him. "I’ll come back to check on you."
For half a second, the office froze.
Then Ignivar and Naviel dropped to their knees.
The sound echoed through the space.
"Your Majesty, please," Ignivar said urgently. "Let us do it."
Naviel nodded fiercely. "All we wanted was some rest. Just a little. The king doesn’t need to work; we can do the work ourselves."
"How long have you guys been working?" I asked them.
"Over twenty-four hours," Naviel added quietly. "But it’s not too much. We can do the work."
I recoiled, my head spinning after hearing they’d been working for over twenty-four hours.
"Twenty-four hours?" I repeated, turning slowly toward Zorathys.
My glare this time was incandescent.
"That is wrong," I said. "On so many levels."
Zorathys nodded sleepily. "I hear you."
"You made them work for over a full day without rest."
"They decided to do so," he said with a yawn.
"I don’t care if they decided to do so, Zorathys. That is wrong. You do not overwork your people, even if they are demons. They are not tools."
"The work was important," he told me.
"It doesn’t matter."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he nodded again. "I’ll do the work."
Naviel shook his head desperately. "Please, Your Highness—"
"No," I cut in. "Don’t worry. He’ll do it."
They stared at me like I’d just sentenced them.
"I have something to do," I added. "I’ll be back soon. Get some rest, and let Zorathys do the work instead."
I turned and walked out of the office along with the others.
Behind me, Ignivar and Naviel called my name.
I wondered why they sounded like I was about to sentence them to death.