### Chapter 47 Chapter 46 Incitement
The duchess’s heart, therefore, stopped beating for a few moments. When she regained her senses, she found herself staring intently at the source of the voice. At that moment, lightning struck outside, casting a flash of light that dispelled the darkness within the room, outlining the tall figure in the dark corner of the room.
The figure, with a bald head encased in black armor and cracked lips, was the Demon King, Kima.
At that moment, a rumble of thunder slammed against the window, causing it to tremble.
The duchess trembled all over, her heart pounding violently as if it wanted to leap from her chest. She felt an urge to scream but quickly shoved her fingers into her mouth to muffle the sound. She was afraid that her scream would disturb others, exposing her past and destroying her current life.
He revealed a cruel smile, as if the duchess’s terror was the best appetizer. He stepped forward, pinching her chin with his hand, and said:
“My dear lady, you have matured since giving birth, hehe, no one can escape their past.”
The duchess stood motionless, like a little white rabbit frozen in fear, despairingly closing her eyes.
All of this was merely the scheme of the Demon King Kima. Just as he liked not to stop the maids from escaping, with a slave contract in place, no matter where she fled, the ultimate destination was always the bedroom in the Demon King’s castle.
She had only escaped for three and a half years, never truly slipping from his grasp.
“How obedient. It seems you never believed I was really dead.” The Demon King Kima released her chin and asked, “Do you still want to be your duchess?”
She pulled her damp fingers from her mouth, looking at the Demon King Kima with fear.
“Think carefully,” Kima said. “As for me, I am only greedy for your body. You can choose to bear children for anyone and be anyone’s wife, but you must be clear that your body belongs to me, even if a hero slays me with a sword and cuts off my head, that will still be true.”
“What… do you want?”
“To be my mistress. I will come to find you; all you have to do is prepare to serve me.” Kima said, “And I know that you maids have secretly united after my faked death to support each other. Hehe, that’s part of my scheme too. The better your relationships, the more pleased I will be.”
The duchess was drenched in cold sweat, feeling a profound sense of powerlessness. Since encountering the Demon King Kima, she had become a puppet in his hands, at his mercy.
“What do you want us to do?”
“Eliminate George.”
Another bolt of lightning struck outside, illuminating the duchess’s mature and beautiful profile, as the rumbling thunder echoed in the room.
“He… he is my benefactor; he is a good person.”
The Demon King Kima found it amusing, pointing to himself and asking, “Am I dead?”
“No.”
He then pointed at the duchess: “Are you free?”
“No.”
“Is there any gratitude?” Kima continued, “Moreover, if he truly cared for you, knowing your husband suspected you, he would never come to Kiseliev.”
“Really?”
“Of course, I have spies in his team.”
A surge of resentment towards George welled up within the duchess. This resentment had long existed but had previously been suppressed by morality. Now, that moral weight had vanished, and her resentment surged up, drowning her heart.
He truly did not care for me, this pitiful woman. The crusade against the Demon King was merely for his own sake, for fame, wealth, and his pride.
Yet, she said, “No.”
“You have no choice.” The Demon King Kima seemingly saw through her thoughts and said with a playful smile, “You just want to negotiate with me.”
“I cannot bear healthy children.” The duchess knelt expertly, as she always did, holding onto his calf and pleading, “Please allow me to have a healthy child; otherwise, my family will never have peace.”
“Fine, I do have a fondness for married women.” Kima said, “As long as you assist me in getting revenge on George with all your strength, regardless of whether you succeed or not, I will allow you to continue being your duchess.”
Mercy, too much mercy. My body will grow increasingly old, and the Demon King Kima will be attracted to other young and beautiful maids. I will be completely free, able to live carefreely with my husband.
The duchess felt a flicker of gratitude in her heart and asked, “My lord, how should I assist you?”
“Talk to your maid friends and let them whisper in their lovers’ ears.” Kima said, “Incite rumors and attack George; succubi are his soft spot. The rest, I will arrange. And, do not expose my existence; I want to surprise them.”
“Thank you.”
“Gratitude must be substantive.”
The duchess sat on the bed, reaching for the buttons on her silk nightgown, exposing her collarbone.
The Demon King Kima smiled, stepping back and disappearing into the darkness.
Once she was sure the Demon King Kima had left, the duchess covered her face with her hands, tears streaming down her arms. After a moment of quiet sobbing, she used a prepared towel to wipe the tears from her face. She padded barefoot off the bed, walked to the vanity, pulled out a drawer, and took out a small mirror.
The mercury mirror was very expensive, but she had a full-length mirror on her vanity. She pressed the small mirror against the dressing mirror and affixed them together.
In the dressing mirror, it was as if a stone had been thrown into a lake, and blue ripples spread outwards. She quietly waited for a few minutes, and the dressing mirror split into four pieces, each reflecting a beautiful face. Each face was different, but the one common trait was dark circles under their eyes, and they all appeared haggard.
The duchess said, “On a stormy night, no one can sleep, right?”
“Did you call us over to talk about the weather?”
“I heard from the family mage that this is not ordinary weather but a surge of magical winds altering the climate.”
“I called you to discuss a matter.” The duchess said: “Since we all reside in Kiseliev, you should know that the former hero George is under house arrest for harboring succubi and defying our laws.”
“Madam, do you despise our benefactor?”
“Of course not.” The duchess suppressed the resentment in her heart and said, “It’s just that I have received reliable information that George will not be able to withstand the pressure and will betray us.”
“What?”
The four women in the mirror all changed their expressions simultaneously.
“Did he not swear that he would never disclose our past, no matter who inquired?”
“He is clearly a paladin; how could he possibly go back on his word?”
“My dear sisters,” the duchess sighed lightly, “think about it, if he reveals us, he could gain tremendous support. Moreover, according to my husband, he has conflicts with the current hero and has long sought to prove himself, and yet now he is stuck in Kiseliev.”
“It’s impossible; he will keep his vow.”
“A vow? It’s just a word. It’s not written on parchment.” The duchess said, “And he doesn’t even need to explicitly state it; merely inviting us all to the same banquet would imply it to others, and he wouldn’t be breaking his vow.”
The dressing mirror fell silent, until one of her good friends broke the silence first.
“We must defend ourselves.”
This is merely self-defense.
She nodded, “Yes, self-defense.”
Days later.
In high society, numerous accusations and slanders against George began to circulate. Some demanded that George be judged; although he had a special status and immense power, he should at least hand over the succubi for proper examination.
Isn’t he a paladin? Why does he not respect the law and even claim to distrust Kiseliev, suspecting it has been infiltrated? He must have fallen.
As a result, the number of soldiers stationed near the manor increased significantly.
In addition, in the bustling market, in taverns, and at dinner tables, several carefully crafted rumors skipped from one mouth to another, spreading wildly among the crowd.
Amidst the demon raids, men who had lost their families, fearful citizens, and guards ashamed of their failure vented their emotions and pain through these rumors. Like a cold wind, it swept across the entire city of Kiseliev.
The rumors targeted Kima, denouncing George for his fall, harboring the demon Kima, and holding secret ceremonies that invited demons to attack the city.
Another rumor emerged stating that George was arrogant and looked down upon the women of Kiseliev. Some fervently claimed that their brother-in-law was a member of the palace guard and had overheard George say:
“The deaths of Kiseliev women are nothing compared to a single hair from my succubi.”
“If you want to blame someone, blame the weakness of the Kiseliev women; they deserve it.”
Later, as this rumor spread through the voices of the angry populace, it became shorter, catchier, and filled with emotion.
“You’re weak; you should die.”
It provoked the nerves of the people, stirring the anger of all Kiseliev women.
One noon.
Fully armored, the Duke of Kiseliev sat on his warhorse, flanked by fully armed winged knights. He gazed at the manor a hundred meters away, seeing George’s detestable face behind the window, which grew more loathsome the longer he looked at it; it resembled a stone in a cesspool.
He had hoped that the armed march would weaken this paladin, but George showed no signs of budging.
At that moment, a large group of unruly mobs surged from afar. Their slogans were varied, calling for the “foreign softy to experience the iron fist of Kiseliev.”
“Teach him a lesson.”
But the most frequently heard mantra was “You’re weak; you should die!” This phrase repeatedly boosted the “morale.” The leading mobsters had flushed faces as they angrily waved their makeshift weapons.
“My lord.” One of his subordinates rode up, saying, “They demand to seek justice from the paladin.”
The Duke of Kiseliev assessed the size of the mob and suspected that even if George stood still to be struck, these mortals would take a day and night to kill him.
But this was perfect. The paladin would not easily resort to violence against civilians, and the harm posed by this mob to George and his companions was minimal, making it ideal for exerting pressure.
The Duke of Kiseliev nodded and said, “Clear a path; let them seek justice.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The army made way, and hundreds of mobs, reeking of alcohol, surged towards the manor.
Inside the manor, George turned to his companions, saying, “Prepare for defense; Frost Leaf, use earth magic.”
“Understood.”
“Let them have it,” George said. “As long as we fortify the manor into a stronghold, these mortals won’t be able to invade.”
Kima stared blankly at the mob outside the window, lost in thought, while the other three said nothing.
After a moment of meditation, Janna suddenly spoke up, “It’s not that simple.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The winds of magic have begun to pick up again,” Janna said as she stood, “and it’s escalating; it is expected to turn into a magical storm.”
More sensitive to the winds of magic, Kima remained silent.
“Kima, get up quickly.” George commanded, “Be careful.”
Kima was undoubtedly the key to this task, only she could locate the fragments of the Demon King’s crown.
Kima nodded and stood up.
