Chapter 18: Open your eyes right now!

This chapter is a fixed match—a deliberate fake defeat.
The full reasons are explained around chapter 28.

Rosie tilted her head back, staring up at the scene in midair.

Her silver eyes locked unblinkingly on the black-robed figure hovering there like the Grim Reaper himself—and on Lester in his grasp, barely clinging to life.

The sheer shock left her mind completely blank.

Just… just a little while ago that guy had been smugly announcing their marriage, even fantasizing about descendants.

And now he was about to be publicly executed like trash, refined into a cold, lifeless魔核?

One Demon King was already unbearable enough.

But if he died—if the throne controlling this魔域 fell into the hands of this unknown, far more ruthless Satan—her own situation would become a hundred times, a thousand times worse!

Reduced to a plaything? A slave?

Just imagining that future sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

Rosie felt her heart pounding furiously. Her small body trembled faintly.

She was actually afraid—afraid this nightmare might really come true.

No!

This absolutely could not be allowed to happen!

“Hey!”

She spun around abruptly.

Silver pupils blazed with a do-or-die resolve as she glared at Ankira, whose face had also turned ashen.

“Black-purple-fur demon! I’ve got a plan. You want to hear it or not?”

“…What?”

Ankira was stunned by the sudden intensity and the bizarre way she addressed him.

Rosie took a deep breath. Her tiny finger jabbed straight toward Satan in the air.

Her voice rang out, firm and unyielding. A mad decision crystallized in her mind:

“We’re going to snatch your boss—right out of that black-robed bastard’s hands!”

“What?!”

Ankira’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He even doubted his own hearing.

He had watched countless Demon King challenge matches.

Never—not once—had he seen, or even imagined, a spectator jumping into the arena to snatch the fighter away. It was beyond absurd.

“That… that probably breaks every rule… It would be seen as a provocation against the entire demon race! They—”

Ankira instinctively glanced down at the fanatical Satan supporters and the魔族 guards maintaining order below. His voice was thick with hesitation.

“What are you afraid of?!”

Rosie cut him off sharply.

From her petite frame erupted an astonishing aura. Her silver eyes flashed with almost feral light.

“Rules are made to be broken! Or do you want to just stand here and watch him get turned into a魔核?!”

Of course she knew her own pitiful amount of mana was no match for Satan.

But just moments earlier, an extremely risky—yet possibly the only—way to turn the tables had flashed through her mind like lightning.

It was the tactical instinct she had honed countless times on the brink of death back when she was still the priestess Perse.

She absolutely could not let Lester die here.

Even more—she could not let him fall into Satan’s hands!

“The victor is—”

The excited voice of the announcer boomed through the magical amplifiers, about to declare the name and announce this earth-shaking upset!

BOOM——!!!

A deafening explosion tore through the air.

The entire arena shuddered violently.

Without any warning, a violent blast erupted from one section beneath the VIP stands.

Flames shot skyward. Shattered stone mixed with twisted metal fragments flew in all directions. Thick black smoke billowed up instantly.

The sudden chaos detonated panic across the crowd.

Screams and cries of alarm erupted from every side.

Every eye in the arena—including the gaze hidden beneath Satan’s black hood—was irresistibly drawn to the massive disturbance.

The announcer’s declaration choked in his throat.

“The match—is NOT over yet!!!”

A childish yet piercing shout, laced with utter madness, sliced through the explosion’s echoes and the drifting smoke.

Immediately afterward, an enormous, ferocious black-purple figure shot out from the explosion’s haze like a cannonball.

Ankira had revealed his true demonic form—a gigantic black-purple venomous spider, its body the size of a small house, covered in hard chitinous armor, compound eyes glittering with cold, ghostly light.

The massive spider maw snapped wide.

A thick, viscous mass of purple-black silk shimmering with deadly poison sprayed toward the floating Satan with terrifying speed and a vicious angle—a true life-or-death strike.

Satan clearly hadn’t anticipated this ambush.

To evade the lethal binding, he instinctively swung the unconscious Lester he was holding like a shield, hurling him directly into the path of the incoming web in an attempt to block it.

But Ankira’s true target had never been hitting Satan.

The instant the web shot out, several incredibly tough silk threads erupted from beneath his massive body.

They wrapped around the thrown Lester with pinpoint accuracy, instantly securing him against Ankira’s own form.

At the same time, his eight legs moved with astonishing speed.

The gigantic body carved a sharp arc through the air, narrowly dodging whatever counterattack Satan might unleash next.

In the very next breath, he broke through the arena gates and plunged deep into the heart of Demon King City.

Just before the explosion threw everything into chaos—

Rosie had stared at the sight of Satan lifting Lester, then whipped her head around and asked rapidly:

“What kind of demon are you? Can you fly? Or at least move very fast?”

Though confused, Ankira was momentarily overwhelmed by the desperate, burning resolve in her eyes. He answered on instinct:

“I’m a Cold Spider. Strength and speed are decent. My venomous webs have powerful binding force. Short bursts of explosive movement—no problem.”

“Then that’s enough.”

Rosie pondered for only a second before pointing toward a shadowed blind spot beneath one of the support structures in the stands.

“You create an explosion to draw everyone’s attention. Then snatch your boss back from that guy’s hands.”

Ankira was dumbfounded by the plan—so audacious it bordered on suicidal.

But staring into those silver eyes blazing with unyielding determination, he inexplicably nodded.

And so the earth-shaking explosion and daring raid had unfolded.

Right now, Rosie clung tightly to the dangling silk thread, seated firmly on Ankira’s broad, spike-covered, rock-hard carapace.

She had no time to catch her breath.

Immediately she used several spare strands of silk to lash herself and the still-unconscious Lester securely onto Ankira’s back.

Wind howled past her ears. The chaotic scene below blurred and streaked away at high speed.

“Hey!”

One hand gripped the silk anchoring her in place; the other ruthlessly seized the blood-soaked collar of Lester’s shirt.

She shook his limp, unresponsive head violently, shouting furiously into his tightly closed eyes:

“Weren’t you the one who told me to come watch you shine?! So what happened?! I didn’t see any shine—I only saw you get pummeled like a damn sandbag! Then dangled like a dead dog for everyone to see! You big liar! Bastard! Open your eyes right now!!”

Her voice tore apart in the rushing wind—full of anger, yet carrying a faint tremor and panic she herself hadn’t even noticed.

But Lester remained completely unresponsive.

His face was deathly pale. Only the weakest thread of breath proved he was still alive.

Slowly, Rosie’s shaking motions came to a stop.

She lowered her head and looked at the man in her arms—the arrogant, overbearing Demon King who usually radiated power, now so fragile and broken.

Even unconscious, his face was still infuriatingly handsome—now smeared with dirt and blood, looking almost pitiful.

A complicated emotion flickered through her heart.

It definitely could not be called heartache.

If they weren’t in the middle of fleeing for their lives, Rosie thought through gritted teeth, she would really love to stomp on that damn pretty face a few times.

Even that wouldn’t be enough to vent the rage boiling inside her!