Underlying Threat

The weight of Azreal's words hung in the air like an executioner's blade, poised to strike. His statement—"I dare you to execute him now"—seemed to carry two conflicting messages. On the surface, it appeared as if he were giving his consent, but beneath the words lay an unspoken, deadly challenge. It was as if he were saying: Go ahead, do it... if you dare. But if you do, prepare to lose your head.

A shudder passed through King Melvin and the guards standing beside Elliott, the chilling implication of Azreal's words sending ice through their veins. Fear pooled in their eyes, but the king, unwilling to back down entirely, forced himself to respond.

"King Azreal," Melvin stammered, his voice laced with fear and suppressed rage, "you know you're in the mortal world—you can't make decisions for us." Despite the defiance in his words, his trembling hands betrayed his terror. The way he glared at Azreal carried both resentment and helplessness, as though he hated Azreal for having the power to dictate the fate of their realm but feared him too much to openly oppose him.

Meanwhile, Elliott was already drenched in cold sweat. His heart pounded against his ribs. Was the demon king insane?! Why would he dare them to go through with the execution?! Weren't they supposed to be married? Wasn't a husband supposed to protect his spouse? If anything, Azreal should have stormed in to stop the execution entirely—not taunt them into following through with it!

A certain someone had forgotten protesting to be a husband to a demon just moments ago.

Elliott swallowed hard, feeling as if he had suddenly lost all sense of logic. He could only watch in stunned silence as Azreal tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile—one that made the entire council tremble.

"I rule all realms," Azreal said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable weight of authority. "Just keep that in mind."

The room fell into deeper silence. No one dared to breathe too loudly, lest they invoke his wrath.

Azreal took a slow step forward, his movements so fluid and controlled that they only added to his eerie, otherworldly presence. "Besides," he continued, "I wasn't making a decision. How was what I said a decision?" His tone was almost playful, as if he were toying with them, daring them to refute him.

King Melvin clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as frustration warred with his fear. His pride as a ruler of the mortal realm urged him to stand his ground, but his survival instincts screamed at him to back down. His body wavered between the two choices.

"You… you're not allowed in the mortal realm," Melvin finally blurted out, his voice slightly shaking. "And you definitely can't stop us from executing a student for the crime he committed!"

The moment the words left his lips, King Melvin's face lost all color, and he immediately looked like he regretted every single life decision that had led him to this moment.

Did he… did he just yell at the Demon King? Did he actually just challenge the ruler of all demonic realms? Oh, he was going to die. He was so going to die.

Elliott winced. Was this king an idiot?! He was actually raising his voice at Azreal?!

The moment the words left Melvin's lips, the air in the room changed. A dangerous aura spread from Azreal, dark and suffocating. His pupils flashed a deep crimson—an unmistakable sign of his growing anger. The temperature seemed to drop, and an invisible force pressed down on everyone present. Several council members flinched, some breaking into a cold sweat, while the guards took a nervous step back.

Elliott could only stare in horror. He's going to kill him. The king is actually going to die right now.

But just as the tension reached its peak, Azreal's gaze flickered toward Elliott. The bloodthirsty glint in his eyes dulled slightly, and the darkness in his aura seemed to retract, as if he were reigning himself in.

Then, with a voice smooth yet chilling, he said, "Don't worry, you'll be punished another day."

His words sent an unmistakable chill down Melvin's spine, and the color drained from his face. The king—who had ruled over countless men and sentenced many to death without hesitation—looked as pale as a ghost.

Azreal took another step forward, closing the gap between him and the trembling king. His smile deepened, but it was devoid of warmth. "You dare speak to me like that?" His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it made the entire room feel suffocating. "Thank whatever god you worship that I can't bear to show my true side in front of my precious husband… Or else…"

The threat hung in the air, unfinished but crystal clear.

Melvin made a strange choking noise that might have been an attempt to breathe. Or pray. Or both.

Elliott gulped instinctively. Why was he suddenly feeling bad for the king? He barely even knew the man, and yet… Seeing him standing there, frozen in absolute terror, made Elliott's own blood run cold.

He hesitantly glanced up at Melvin and nearly flinched at the sight. The once-proud ruler was visibly shaking, his lips slightly parted in silent horror. The king looked as if he had just glimpsed death itself.

Good, Elliott thought uneasily. If even the king is this scared of Azreal, then it means no one—not even an entire council—can stop this demon.

It also meant one terrifying truth: Elliott was completely at Azreal's mercy.

A king was this terrified of Azrael?, then Elliot needed to do one very important thing: rethink his entire approach to surviving this marriage.

If he wanted to keep his head firmly attached to his body, he would have to choose his words very carefully when speaking to his so-called 'husband.' Because what if one day, Azreal simply decided that Elliott wasn't worth keeping alive? What if he finally snapped and lost interest?

Elliott didn't want to find out.

Oblivious—or perhaps indifferent—to the sheer chaos he was stirring in the minds of those around him, Azreal let out a soft sigh. "And besides…" His tone became lighter, almost casual. "I still never made any decisions for your realm." He glanced around, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I merely told you to go through with your decision. That's all."

No one dared to respond.

The weight of his words wasn't lost on anyone. Every single person present—except for Elliott—understood the unspoken threat beneath them. Azreal was challenging them. Go on, try it. Execute my husband. See what happens. Let's see if your world still exists by tomorrow.

And if they did…?

Their entire realm might crumble overnight.

Yep. Azreal was that powerful.

To everyone else in the room, it was terrifyingly clear: if they so much as lifted a finger against Elliott, it would mean the destruction of everything they had ever known.

But Elliott—frustratingly unaware of the underlying implications—felt nothing but rage. His wide, disbelieving eyes locked onto Azreal. This demon is actually telling them to execute me instead of stopping it?!

He felt his blood boil. His heart pounded with frustration. Was this monster insane?!

What kind of heartless husband does that?!

Oh, you know what? Fine. FINE!

Elliot would gladly choose death over staying married to this demon.

Just when Elliott was about to scream in protest, Azreal suddenly turned on his heel and disappeared, vanishing into thin air as if he had never been there in the first place.

A heavy silence followed his departure.

Elliott blinked, momentarily stunned. He left.

His heart sank slightly—why, he wasn't sure. He should have felt relieved, but instead, an odd, bitter emotion curled in his chest.

Great. He really meant it. He actually left me here.

Elliott clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Maybe he never cared about me from the start. Maybe this was all just some twisted game to him.

He forced himself to shake off the thought, gritting his teeth. He wasn't about to waste time overanalyzing the intentions of a demon king. He had bigger problems right now.

Slowly, Elliott raised his head to look at the terrified king and council members.

Taking a deep breath, he asked the question that had been lingering in his mind:

"So… is the execution happening now?"

The silence deepened.

Then, as if that weren't shocking enough, he added, "And, uh… how painful is it? I need to mentally prepare myself."