I Was Supposed to Be the Demon King, but They Made Me Save the World

Baldwin who are you?

And clearly, you are not from here. Where are you from? Olivia's mother asked, her voice steady yet probing.

"Yes, I'm not from here," Baldwin replied with a small smile. "I'm just a traveling beast hunter, ma'am."

Before she could press him further, Olivia entered the hut carrying some goods for Baldwin and her mother, her face lit with excitement.

"Mom! Look! I can cook properly now!" Olivia exclaimed, beaming with pride.

Her mother smiled warmly, nodding in approval.

"Now, Olivia," Baldwin interjected, "it's hard for your mom to eat with her hands right now. You should help her."

"Yes, Mom! Baldwin is right! Let me feed you," Olivia said, moving closer.

But her mother shook her head softly. "No, it's okay. I can move my hands a little. Come here, let me feed you instead. I've missed you so much."

As they sat together, the small family shared a quiet but heartwarming meal. Olivia chatted happily, recounting how she met Baldwin and how he had offered to help heal her mother.

Olivia's mother nodded thoughtfully, her eyes resting on Baldwin. "It seems we owe you a great debt," she said to him, her tone sincere.

Baldwin raised a hand, shaking his head with a reassuring smile. "It's alright. We can talk about it in the morning. For now, just focus on resting and recovering."

With that, they finished their dinner and settled in for the night. Though the hut was modest and supplies were scarce, Baldwin made sure Olivia and her mother had the thicker sheet to stay warm. He didn't mind taking the thinner one, brushing it off as nothing.

As the two women fell into a peaceful sleep, Baldwin lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His mind wandered, knowing it was time to leave. Quietly, he rose, opening the hut door.

The night was calm, with a gentle breeze rustling the trees. The sky, adorned with three glowing moons, bathed the forest in a serene, silver light. The view from the small mound where the hut stood was breathtaking, the moonlight illuminating the trees like a surreal painting.

Baldwin took one last look at the sleeping pair, a faint smile gracing his lips. "A kid got back her mother," he thought, a rare warmth filling his chest.

Stepping outside, he began to sink into the shadows, ready to disappear into the night when a voice stopped him.

"So, where are you going?"

He froze, turning to see Olivia's mother standing in the doorway, the moonlight casting a soft glow on her face.

________________________________________

Far away, in a vast, sandy desert, a lone tornado spiraled into existence, twisting and writhing until it finally dissipated, leaving behind an unsettling stillness. From within the vanishing vortex, a woman emerged.

She was strikingly beautiful, her waist-length brown hair cascading like a silken curtain down her bare back. Her brown eyes gleamed with a mysterious allure, her face exuding a seductive charm that could captivate anyone at first glance. Her curvaceous figure and flawless skin radiated an otherworldly allure, as though she were a goddess descended to the mortal plane. She stood there, unapologetically naked, her confidence more powerful than any garment.

"What a pain," she murmured to herself, her lips curling in mild annoyance. "Now I'm naked. How shameless of me."

Shaking her head, she began to walk, her bare feet leaving delicate imprints on the warm sand. It wasn't long before she spotted a faint glimmer of light—a campfire flickering in the distance. Her eyes narrowed with purpose as she approached.

When she drew near, she saw an old man seated by the fire. He wore a tattered brown cloak, his long stick resting beside him. A small, weathered shield leaned against a nearby rock. The man was asleep, his frail body hunched forward.

As the woman stepped closer, the old man stirred, his eyes fluttering open. When he saw her, his body reacted as if compelled by a force he could not control. His pupils dilated, his breathing quickened, and an overwhelming, primal desire overtook him.

Like a beast possessed, the old man lunged at her. But before he could touch her, she seized him by the throat, her grip like iron. Lifting him effortlessly with one hand, she brought him to his senses with a sharp jolt.

The man gasped for air, his panic evident as he stared into her piercing eyes. "Who... what are you?" he croaked, struggling to speak.

The woman tilted her head, her gaze cold and unyielding. Ignoring his question, she asked, "What are you? Your profession?"

The old man squirmed, attempting to resist, but once again, that unrelenting desire washed over him, clouding his mind. His lips moved involuntarily, compelled to answer.

"I... I'm a fortune teller," he stammered.

The woman's lips curled into a smug, sinister smile. Her voice dripped with dark amusement as she declared, "Oh, is that so? Then from now on, I am Lola... and I am the fortune teller."

Without hesitation, she tightened her grip, snapping the old man's neck with a chilling finality. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground as she turned her gaze toward the horizon, her smile growing ever more wicked.

"Watching Baldwin play the helpless child... how amusing," Lola muttered, a sly smirk curving her lips. "But this game? This kind of work? It's utterly beneath me."

She crouched down, unbothered by the grim scene before her, and began stripping the old man of his clothes. The worn, earthy garments hung loosely on her figure, but she adjusted them with swift efficiency. Taking up the long stick, she twirled it in her hand like a performer mocking an audience.

Her gaze fell on the lifeless body at her feet. Without a second thought, she raised her foot and pressed it firmly against the old man's head. With an effortless twist of her ankle, the desert sand seemed to obey her will, swallowing the corpse whole in the blink of an eye.

"Gone without a trace," she said softly, brushing off her hands. A sly grin crossed her face as she looked out toward the horizon.

"Enjoy your little charade, Baldwin," she murmured, her voice laced with scorn. "A descendant of the god-slayers, pretending to be an innocent child. Do you truly think you can outwit me?"

She let out a low chuckle, her voice carrying an eerie resonance. "Oh, Galinthias, you truly are a fool. And Hecate? Lazy as ever for a goddess."

Adjusting the stick in her grip, Lola began walking into the endless sands, her laughter fading into the dry, hollow air.