Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 693

For those whose bare hands were weapons, even a simple tree branch could become a formidable instrument. When imbued with mana, it mattered little what the actual weapon was, unless it was a holy relic.

At Reinhart’s request, Ellen sometimes fought using an aura blade and other times with just a bare branch.

Ellen mostly lost. The situation was so overwhelming that she struggled to control her emotions, and the unbearable guilt of meeting Reinhart’s gaze shattered her concentration.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

Whack!

“Ah!”

Bang!

“Argh...”

Thwack!

“Gasp!”

.

.

She endured a long series of final hits and defeats.

Reinhart had no intention of killing Ellen, but he did not hold back either. Her stamina and endurance had reached their limits due to her prolonged attempted escape, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she had rested properly, let alone the last time she had eaten properly.

In the end, it was nothing short of a one-sided beating.

She couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer; her body had already reached its breaking point.

In a strange way, though, her mind felt at peace. The physical pain and suffering were easier to bear than the sting of harsh words. Words cut deeper, so enduring this beating felt less agonizing. It was as if she was being punished for everything that had gone wrong up to this point.

When she thought of it that way, the pain was excruciating yet oddly comforting. But the pain kept building up. Both her body and mind had long since reached their limits.

When her vision began to blur—not from sadness, but from the sheer intensity of pain and exhaustion—Reinhart stepped forward and delivered a knee strike.

Thud!

“Ugh... Argh!”

With that strike, Ellen finally lost consciousness.

***

Swoosh...

Crack... Crack...

Ellen woke up after the sun had set, and night had already fallen over the deserted island.

“Ugh... Huh...!”

The moment she awoke, the memory of what had happened rushed back, and she quickly sat up. Fainting was something that rarely happened to her, and fainting in a deserted place like that would be like a brush with death. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

She had never pushed her body to such extremes before. Every part of her ached and throbbed.

“Are you awake?” a voice asked.

She turned her head toward the voice and saw Reinhart sitting in a corner of the sandy beach.

In front of him, a campfire crackled warmly, and something large was roasting over the flames on a skewer.

It was a large lobster.

Several empty shells were scattered about, evidence that Reinhart had already eaten some.

It had been ages since she had eaten tree roots, or even enjoyed a proper meal in the city. In lands overrun by monsters, meat was a rare commodity. Hunger wasn’t just a temporary condition; it was a perpetual state of being.

“Eat.”

“...”

Ellen hesitated, taken aback by his casual tone. It felt off. It was as if everything was being dismissed too easily, as though nothing had happened.

She stood there, frozen, unable to step forward or retreat. Reinhart noticed her hesitation and frowned at her.

“Stop making this hard and just eat.”

“-U-uh, o-okay... I’ll eat...”

Afraid of provoking Reinhart’s anger, Ellen cautiously approached the campfire.

She couldn’t help but be wary.

‘Did he catch it himself?’

His clothes seemed damp, as if they had not yet dried completely after being wet. He had to have caught it himself.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious, but during that time, some of her strength had returned.

Reinhart remained silent.

Ellen broke off the lobster’s claw and separated the tail. It was hot to the touch, but it didn’t matter.

Somehow, it all felt a bit pathetic—not sad or full of despair, just pathetic. In the end, she hadn’t managed to escape.

There was no tearful reunion, or any harsh words. If he had attacked her with words of resentment sharp enough to make her wish for the ground to swallow her whole, it might have been different, but he had not. The silence was driving her mad.

She had been through a long, rough bout of sparring with some branches that left her bruised and battered, and she now found herself awake, eating lobster with her bare hands, without even a spoon or fork.

She was a mess, a pitiful sight.

She was being made to eat like a beggar in front of the last person she wanted to see her in this state. But since Reinhart had prepared it, she couldn’t refuse. Compared to all the mistakes she’d made, skipping a meal seemed trivial, yet it still felt wrong.

Even in her current state, her hunger was so intense that her tongue throbbed. The situation wasn’t exactly sad or painful; it was overwhelmingly embarrassing.

“...”

When Ellen hesitated with the lobster again, Reinhart frowned, suspecting there might be another reason.

“Just eat, okay? What’s there to be sorry about? Is this really such a big deal now?”

But that wasn’t it.

She wasn’t feeling sorry or sad.

She was embarrassed, plain and simple.

But those words just wouldn’t come out.

“Uh, no... It’s just... um... it’s...”

She knew how ridiculous it would sound to admit she was embarrassed, so the words stayed lodged in her throat.

“If you don’t want to talk, just eat,” Reinhart suggested.

Finally, unable to resist his gentle urging, Ellen cracked open the lobster shell and took a bite.

The moment she tasted it, her mind was overwhelmed with thoughts. The flavor was so exquisite, it felt like her tongue was melting.

It was so sweet. Why did it taste so sweet?

It was strange. There shouldn’t have been any sugar in it, yet the sweetness was so overwhelming that it felt like her brain was melting.

She wanted to shove it all into her mouth immediately, but doing so would be too embarrassing. Even so, the juice that splattered when she bit into it glistened on her lips, making her look like a mess no matter how much she wanted to eat neatly.

The very thought of wanting to eat neatly felt like the most pathetic.

Ellen just sat there, her eyes wide open, unable to do anything, while Reinhart watched her quietly, looking nonchalant.

“From the moment you crossed into Kernstadt without washing up properly, you’ve been in a state worse than a stray dog rolling in the gutter,” he finally said. “So don’t worry about it and just eat, will you?”

Those words startled Ellen.

Reinhart had known it all along. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

Tears welled up in her eyes—not from sadness, but from a sense of injustice.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he said.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t washed; she simply had not been able to.

Ellen fought the urge to respond.

He was likely doing it on purpose, fully aware of the effect his words had. He would have known that adding such comments would hardly improve the situation.

She blinked back tears of frustration and continued eating her lobster.

Eventually, feeling unsatisfied, Ellen ventured into the sea at night to catch a few more. As she sniffled and gathered lobsters, Reinhart watched her, turning his head to laugh while clenching his teeth.

It was nice to see him smile. She was thankful he wasn’t angry. But it wasn’t a smile of joy; it was a mocking smile.

That mocking grin made Ellen feel even more wronged, and she cried a little more.

***

Despite looking worse than a stray dog, she tried to eat neatly, but using her bare hands made it impossible.

Reinhart kept a slight distance as he watched Ellen, who was covered in lobster juice, as if she were something unclean.

She felt wronged, sad, and depressed. But she never imagined she’d feel wronged in this way. She had expected accusations of betrayal or resentment for running away. Instead, she was being treated as if she were too filthy to associate with, which made her feel sad and wronged in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

He was not blaming her for anything. It was as if he were telling her, “You’re dirty.”

Feeling that left her mind in turmoil, and realizing just how filthy she was only deepened Ellen’s sense of injustice.

“Are you finished eating?” Reinhart asked.

“Uh, y-yeah...” Ellen replied, nodding carefully.

Reinhart kicked at the campfire a few times until it was extinguished, then began walking away.

“Follow me,” he instructed.

“...”

Ellen hesitated but rose to her feet and trailed behind him, taking tentative steps.

As she drew nearer, Reinhart suddenly took a large stride forward. He turned back to her with a playful grin, as if a mischievous idea had just struck him.

“... Oh.”

Noticing her expression, Reinhart stopped himself.

“...”

She looked so utterly defeated that he feared one more comment about her hygiene might push her over the edge.

Ellen was at her breaking point, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Reinhart stepped into the mansion, a structure that hadn’t existed on this deserted island before.

He opened the door and went inside, lighting a lamp.

“Everything you need should be here. Wash up and rest.”

Ellen blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m a busy person. I’ll come back tomorrow. Or maybe the day after,” Reinhart said before leaving the mansion.

Ellen, feeling bewildered, opened the door just in time to see him disappear from view. It was as if she had been visited by a ghost.

What was this mansion? She couldn’t even tell if she was on the same island that they had visited during the group mission. And what did Reinhart intend to do?

The only thing she knew for sure was that she had been caught and that there was no escaping now.

“Oh... So that’s it.”

The realization that she was on a deserted island finally struck Ellen.

Despite her superhuman abilities, trying to swim to the mainland from an unknown island was impossible. And even if she managed to build a raft, setting out into the open sea without any skill at navigation would be a death sentence.

She recalled the deserted island they had visited during the group mission was part of the Kamsencha Archipelago—a place she couldn’t leave, even if she tried.

This was a prison.

Reinhart had left her behind, knowing that Ellen couldn’t escape. He let her be.

It was as if he was saying to her, “Go ahead and try to escape. There’s nowhere to go but deeper into the jungle. Where do you plan to escape to? You can’t go anywhere anyway.”

“I... see...” Ellen murmured, as the gravity of her situation settled in.

She was trapped in what felt like the world’s largest prison. Physical bars could be broken, but the vast, unyielding sea was a barrier she couldn’t conquer. She was stranded on a deserted island prison.

There was no better prison to confine Ellen and force her into resignation.

Ellen cautiously explored the mansion, noting the absence of guards. It seemed designed for her to live in solitude, but it hadn’t been hastily constructed; the automated magical devices, unlike anything Ellen had ever seen, were proof of that.

Was this really okay?

Something felt off. Yet the overwhelming thought that escape was impossible pushed all other concerns from Ellen’s mind.

Perhaps they had foreseen this. Perhaps they had fully expected her to surrender eventually, and had set up this place with the expectation that one day they would capture her again, while anticipating that she would attempt to escape just like before.

Clearly, someone had crafted this environment specially for her. Realizing that, Ellen accepted her situation and made her way to the bathroom.

A fresh set of clothes awaited her.

She stripped off her dirty clothes, cloak, and boots and began to wash herself with hot water.

She was meticulous.

It was as if she intended to cleanse every single strand of her hair.

She spent a long time washing, yet she still wasn’t finished.

She filled the bathtub and sank into the water.

“...”

All she wanted was to rest.

She hadn’t truly rested in years.

As her body seemed to dissolve into the warm water, she found herself in a strange dilemma. She couldn’t fathom whether she deserved such overwhelming comfort.

She lay in the bathtub, feeling as though she were sinking.

She couldn’t quite grasp what was happening.

Was it all right for everything to drift away like this?

She couldn’t find an answer.

Yet, it was so warm, so comforting that she felt both guilty and tormented for experiencing such warmth, even though she was still in her prison.

Eventually, Ellen began to cry again.