When I screamed, a flicker of confusion passed across Cassiel’s face—only to be quickly replaced by dismay.
Because my body had attacked him.
The air heated in an instant from the magic.
BOOM!
I thought I had used up all my magic—but of course, I was still the Demon King. My heart pounded as if about to burst, flooding my entire body with mana.
Cassiel elegantly and flawlessly dodged the rain of magical arrows crashing down from the sky.
And in the next moment, his sword rushed toward me.
CLANG!
His blade struck my barrier with a force that nearly shattered it.
Cassiel’s sword was unwavering—and strong. That fact alone gave me peace.
If it was him… he could kill me.
If only this moment had come sooner.
Before I killed all those people.
Before so many cities and nations burned.
Before my father and brother died.
Cassiel was striking solely to kill me—but the Demon King’s seed was still thrashing inside me.
CLANG!
The moment his blade clashed against my shield, the seed surged with energy, trying to fire a barrage of magic at Cassiel.
Just as the magic was about to break through—
I used every ounce of strength to suppress it.
THWACK!
The barrier suddenly dropped, and Cassiel didn’t miss his chance.
His blade pierced my chest at last.
Searing pain spread through me—but it was not pain I felt most. It was joy.
The Demon King’s seed raged, desperately trying to save me. But it was just that—a futile struggle.
…Had I finally exacted a sliver of revenge on the Demon King?
Hot blood gushed out as my magic faded. My body began to stiffen.
I collapsed to the ground and looked up at the darkening sky as the sun set.
No tears fell. Perhaps I had forgotten how to cry.
Why did it come to this?
Why did I become the Demon King and bring ruin upon the world?
If I had died the moment I was born—just as the prophecy said—the world, my mother, my father, and my brother… they all would’ve lived.
As my consciousness faded, I looked at Cassiel.
There was a complicated emotion in his eyes as he stared at me.
I forced a smile and moved my lips.
“Thank… you…”
Thank you for killing me. Truly.
It was far too late, but it wasn’t all in vain.
If I had survived, the seed would never have stopped—not until it devoured the entire world.
Cassiel looked shaken as he listened to my words.
“Princess Seraphina, you—”
He was saying something, but I could no longer hear him. Even his face was becoming blurry.
The death I had longed for finally came for me.
I didn’t resist. I closed my eyes.
And silence swallowed me.
Only darkness remained beside me.
The sole princess of the Kingdom of Astrea—Seraphina, the Demon King—was dead.
* * *
Bright sunlight poured through the windows.
Every corner of the lavishly decorated room sparkled under its glow.
The comforter, fluffed like a cloud, was made of luxurious silk.
The little girl sleeping beneath it stirred at the sunlight warming her face, then opened her eyes.
“…Huh?”
The small figure that sat up under the blankets was a young girl.
She looked about ten years old—tiny, pale, and soft-looking.
Whether it was a dream or confusion, the girl sat in a daze for a long while before suddenly jumping out of bed in a panic.
She wandered aimlessly around the spacious room until stopping in front of a large full-length mirror.
Reflected in it was the image of a child, angelically adorable.
Soft pink hair, like cherry blossoms, was neatly groomed and smelled faintly of flowers. Her sparkling red eyes resembled rubies.
The small bunny-like face was still full of confusion as it stared blankly at the mirror.
‘What… I’m… a child?’
Seraphina del Rod Astrea, the princess who had destroyed the world, realized she had become a child again.
Still staring at her shortened form, Seraphina remained dazed.
Had she not died?
‘Am I alive but turned young? No… more than that…’
Something felt familiar. Even the room around her—it was in her memory.
At that moment, a maid entered the room and spoke softly.
“Did you sleep well, Princess? I was just about to prepare your wash basin…”
Seraphina flinched and turned around in shock. She recognized that maid.
She had served Seraphina during her childhood. The same one Seraphina had later killed.
This wasn’t just about being a child again.
As Seraphina stood frozen, the maid startled and stepped back.
“Serra, are you awake?”
A gentle voice called her nickname.
Seraphina whipped around—and there stood the person she had missed so, so much.
Dark hair like ink and red eyes identical to her own.
His sharp, striking features often left others intimidated and fearful.
Her father. My father.
The one who tried to love me more than the world hated me—and who met his end because of it.
The last memory Seraphina had of Quillian was his body hanging from a castle wall.
But now, he was alive. The war-ravaged weariness from his face was gone.
As Seraphina stood rigid, Quillian approached her with long strides.
“Serra, what’s wrong—Serra?”
Quillian dropped to his knees in shock.
Tears were streaming down Seraphina’s face.
Until now, the Demon King’s seed had blocked her from crying or screaming.
“F-Father… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
The tears she had held back for over a decade burst free.
Seraphina couldn’t stop them.
She wanted to apologize—over and over.
She wanted to kneel before everyone who died because of her.
Her sudden sobbing made Quillian panic as he tried to comfort her.
“Serra, tell me—what’s wrong? What happened?”
“It’s nothing… It’s just… It’s all my fault… I should never have been born…”
Because of her birth, this gentle father had died so miserably. Seraphina couldn’t forgive herself.
But Quillian, not knowing the truth, was horrified at her words.
He quickly pulled her into his arms.
“Serra! Don’t say such things! You’re the treasure of Lucia and me.”
He stroked her hair with trembling hands, voice soothing—but his eyes were sharp as blades.
“…Did one of the priests say something to you? Did someone speak of the prophecy?”
At that, Seraphina panicked and wiped her tears in a hurry.
She shook her head vigorously.
“N-No! No one said anything like that! I just… I had a bad dream…”
“Is that so?”
His eyes softened, but concern still lingered.
Hearing his little girl say she wished she’d never been born—it was deeply troubling.
His expression stiffened with worry.
Seraphina tried to smile.
“I-I’m really okay. I’ll just go wash my face…”
She fled into the washroom, and Quillian watched her go with anxious eyes.
Once alone, Seraphina let out a shaky breath.
Now she understood.
She had returned to the past.
She didn’t know why—or whether it was a curse or a blessing.
‘The Demon King’s seed… is still inside me.’
Activating her magic, something gleamed at the center of her collarbone like a pendant.
A small black diamond-shaped mark.
It looked like a tattoo, and only appeared when she used magic.
It was also a gauge—a measure of how much the seed had grown.
When the seed had fully bloomed and she became the Demon King, the mark had spread across her collarbone and arms like a grotesque flower in full bloom.
‘Thankfully, the seed is still weak. But…’
Perhaps because she had turned back time, the seed was immature again—but she could feel it.
A pulsing, ominous power.
At this rate, it would bloom once more.
‘I’m just glad Father is alive. If only Mother had been, too…’
Still, it was before she became the Demon King—before the massacres and wars began.
Everyone who died because of her was still alive.
The thought made her collapse to the floor.
Tears welled up again and streamed down her cheeks.
Returning to the past… was good.
Because people survived. But—
Seraphina looked down at her clothing.
A snow-white silk nightgown—pure and beautiful.
The girl in the mirror looked just as innocent. No shadows, no blood.
The sight made Seraphina’s chest ache.
She didn’t belong here. She deserved to burn in hell.
How many people had died because of her? And now she was back in this peaceful past?
Her tear-stained face lifted to meet her own gaze in the mirror.
‘This is a blessing… and my last chance.’
Not a chance to be happy—but a final chance to stop the end of the world.
‘If I die, none of it will happen.’
The prophecy was right. The princess must die.
If she died now, her father wouldn’t become a tyrant. There would be no war.
One death to save all.
What a beautiful world that would be.
‘I saw Father’s face. That’s enough. I wish I could’ve seen Brother and Dioren too, but…’
She chuckled bitterly.
What right did she have to miss anyone?
She had killed so many. Yet here she was, wishing to see their faces again.
She really was born to be the Demon King.
‘I’m weaker than I was, but I still have magic.’
Seraphina could sense the faint magic blooming from her heart.
A mere speck compared to when she was the Demon King—but still more than enough to surpass high-level mages.
More than enough to do what she must.
‘I didn’t get to tell Father or Brother that I love them.’
She wanted to say it—just once—before she died.
There were others she missed too.
But she let it go. If she dared to want more, perhaps the gods would take this chance away.
Seraphina gathered her magic and focused it on her heart.
‘Thank you, gods…’
Without even a moment to feel pain, her heart stopped—and the small body collapsed soundlessly.
And so, Princess Seraphina died.
