The Demon Castle was no longer a fortress. It was a stock exchange, a gambling den, a parliant riot, and a wedding expo all happening at once.
Nobles in gilded armor shouted over each other, waving sacks of bribes like they were auctioning goats. Ancient demon dukes flipped tables while arguing about dowries. Even the demon crows—the ones ant to deliver war proclamations—had resorted to pecking ssages into nobles’ skulls just to keep up with the flood of political sabotage.
The chants from the newly recruited Demon Army of Love (see: last Chapter’s catastrophe) still echoed outside like the world’s worst romantic hymn:
"God-Husband! God-Husband! Kiss us all into Heaven!"
Inside, crowns were literally shattering. A minor prince tried to proclaim himself heir to Rei’s "eternal romance bloodline" until Seraphina smote him with a hymn-empowered lightning bolt that turned his crown into a decorative olet.
The nobles howled. The dukes wailed. And the brides?
They just smiled. Rei, anwhile, was sowhere between hyperventilating and praying for reincarnation again.
"Marquis Vorth has pledged his vineyards to ," declared Lilia, perched on the highest table like a general surveying her battlefield. "Every grape pressed shall bear Rei’s initials."
"Cute," Drakana sneered, dragging a war banner across the floor. "The Dragon Clans already tattooed his face onto every scale. You’ll see entire battle legions gleam with his profile when they fly."
"Insufficient," said Princess Seraphina, dropping forty-seven signed marriage contracts on the table with the precision of a guillotine. "The Celestial Choirs sing only my verse of his na. The heavens are sealed."
Lucivella, serene as ever, rely sipped tea. "You fight over grapes and scales. I already control the abyssal tax offices. Every coin spent in Hell bears Rei’s face."
Rei’s jaw dropped. "WHAT KIND OF—who even needs—"
Rosette slid silently behind him, whispering like a phantom. "Master... the assassin guilds, the spies, the shadows in every corner—they are all mine. Every whisper speaks your na."
Rei almost choked. "Why would anyone bribe assassins with my—oh gods, please tell they’re not writing love letters on their daggers."
"They are," Rosette said, deadpan.
The last to speak was Velvet, smiling sweetly while twirling her parasol. "I bribed the Demon Tailors’ Guild. Every uniform in the kingdom is now cut in your size. Including the maid outfits."
Night fell over the chaos. Nobles still scread, brides still plotted, the Demon Army of Love still chanted outside—but Rei, crafty bastard that he was, snuck down the hidden servant corridors.
He had studied. He had planned. He had... found the Maid’s Storage Room.
Inside was every disguise he needed: frilly dresses, headbands, aprons, perfu bottles, feather dusters. The faint sll of lavender and impending doom lingered in the air.
Rei stripped in record ti and donned the disguise.
The mirror reflected... not a duke’s son, not a god-husband, not a target of divine obsession.
But...
A maid, A very tall, broad-shouldered maid with five o’clock shadow, but with enough frills to blind an ogre at ten paces.
Rei adjusted the headband. His heart raced. This is it. The perfect plan. They’ll never find like this.
He tiptoed through the courtyard, feather duster in hand. And then—
"...Rei?"
He froze. The voice was too sweet, too knowing and too yandere.
He turned slowly. All six brides were standing there. In a row. Arms folded. Glowing eyes of doom illuminating the courtyard like demonic floodlights.
They didn’t even look mad. They looked... smug.
Velvet smirked first. "How lovely. He wore my uniform first."
Seraphina’s wings flared. "Incorrect. He’s clearly dressed in my ceremonial maid blessing attire."
"No," Lilia snapped, pointing accusingly at the frilly hem. "That lace trim is mine. He’s pledging to ."
Drakana slamd her spear into the ground, sparks flying. "He’s obviously my war-maid. Look at his stance! He’s ready to polish dragon scales!"
Lucivella giggled. "Poor dears. Don’t you see? He belongs to . Only I taught him how to brew tea in a skirt."
Rosette whispered, cold and certain: "...The feather duster is assassin-grade. My style. He is mine."
Rei, anwhile, was sweating so hard his disguise turned translucent.
"Uh—uh—maids don’t talk—scrub scrub mop mop—!"
But It didn’t work. All six stepped forward in perfect synchronization.
And then it began. The courtyard erupted into chaos louder than an exploding volcano inside a cathedral.
Spells collided with spears. Dresses shredded into ribbons. The Demon Castle walls again collapsed by 30%. Chandeliers fell like divine teors.
But this ti, the chaos wasn’t just duels or screaming.
It was... singing. Seraphina blasted holy hymns at Drakana, who countered with dragon-war chants so intense they cracked stone.
Velvet unleashed a parasol-ballad that sounded suspiciously like a cabaret song, while Lilia responded with what could only be described as an opera aria of marital contracts.
Lucivella sang softly—terrifyingly—like a lullaby of eternal damnation.
And Rosette? She didn’t sing. She played the bones of assassins like a flute.
Rei’s ears bled. His nose bled. His dignity bled.
[System Warning: Harem War Escalation Detected.]
[System Note: Average structural collapse of Demon Castle has reached 72%. Estimated collapse in: 4 Chapters.]
[System Suggestion: Equip Hard Hat. Optional DLC: Emotional Damage Insurance.]
Rei clutched his head. "I don’t need DLC! I need a vacation!"
[System Response: Vacations unavailable during Apocalypse-Level Wife Conflict.]
"AAAAAAAAHHHH!" Rei scread, ducking as a flaming chandelier missed his head by inches.
The nobles tried to intervene. They regretted it imdiately.
One duke shouted, "This is an outrage!" before being vaporized by Seraphina’s hymn.
Another tried bribing Rei mid-battle with a sack of diamonds. Rei accidentally accepted it. Suddenly ten kingdoms declared him their fiancé.
The bribes, the contracts, the shattered crowns—it all collapsed into total anarchy. The Demon Castle courtyard now looked like an opera house during a teor strike.
And in the center of it all? Rei, still in a maid outfit, crying into his feather duster.
Hours later, the chaos still raged, but Rei had crawled under a collapsed table, clutching his pillow like a lifeline. His frills were torn, his stockings shredded, and his pride non-existent.
Above him, the brides cheered, declaring victory after victory in between singing battles and magical explosions.
The Demon Army of Love outside still chanted, perfectly in rhythm with the chaos:
"God-Husband! God-Husband! Purify us with love!"
Rei whispered into his pillow. "Please... just... kill ..."
[System Note: You cannot die. You are contractually bound as God-Husband.]
[System Notification: Achievent Unlocked – Maid in Despair.]
Rei sobbed harder and the Demon Castle lost another 5% of its structural integrity.
By midnight, the battlefield had cald only slightly—mostly because everyone was too tired to keep singing.
The brides gathered around the smoldering courtyard, breathing hard, hair singed, dresses in tatters, but with eyes still blazing like they hadn’t lost an ounce of conviction.
Rei, anwhile, sat cross-legged in his shredded maid uniform, clutching his feather duster like a holy relic. His soul had departed. Only his body remained.
And yet the politics refused to die.
Lilia raised her cracked staff, voice trembling but still resolute. "As First Bride, I declare an ergency marital council. Rei-sama must choose his rightful bride before dawn."
"Ergency?" Rei croaked. "The castle is literally falling apart! Half the nobles are dead! You call this ergency marital politics?!"
Drakana slamd a clawed fist into her palm, sparking fire. "Damn right it’s an ergency. If I don’t get his first night before dawn, the blood pact curse activates. Whole dragon clans go berserk."
Rei’s eyes bulged. "You had a curse installed in our childhood oath?!"
Seraphina interjected smoothly, halo shimring. "The heavens decree that balance must be restored by sunrise. Failure will trigger a celestial plague."
Lucivella smirked over her goblet, sipping calmly despite the smoke and ruins around her. "And if balance or blood doesn’t sway him, then economics will. The abyssal treasury now only funds the bride he selects."
Rei’s jaw dropped. "You’re holding the entire economy hostage?! That’s... that’s literally economic terrorism!"
"Marriage," Lucivella corrected, serene.
Velvet twirled her parasol, smiling faintly. "I’ve already commissioned wedding outfits for each scenario. Whichever one he chooses, the seamstresses will know by dawn. Fashion waits for no man."
Rosette leaned close, whispering so only Rei heard. "Assassin’s rule: if a man delays choosing, the knives decide for him."
Rei scread internally and externally too.
[System Notification: Multiple Bride Deadlines Approaching.]
[System Warning: Failure to choose will result in apocalypse.]
[System Suggestion: Choose maid outfit permanently. Probability of survival: 0.02%.]
Rei slamd his feather duster on the table—or what was left of the table. "No. I refuse. You can’t all keep threatening with curses, plagues, assassins, fashion deadlines, and economic collapse!"
The brides stared, intrigued. Rei’s eye twitched. His voice cracked. "So here’s my counterplan—listen carefully. I... resign. From marriage. From God-Husband duties. From existing. I’ll just..." He pointed dramatically at the rubble. "Crawl under there. Stay there. And beco... Furniture Husband. A chair. You can all sit on equally. That’s fair!"
Silence.
Then Velvet clapped politely. "Adorable. But chairs don’t get First Nights."
Rei collapsed. "Even my furniture plan failed..."
The nobles, emboldened again, surged forward with scrolls, banners, and bribes.
One shouted: "Our kingdom pledges 10,000 cows if Rei-sama blesses our dairy bride!"
Another: "We pledge our fleet of 200 warships to whoever Rei-sama kisses first!"
Yet another, foaming at the mouth: "I’ll sell my soul and my left kidney for just one signed love letter!"
Rei tried to crawl away but was hoisted onto a makeshift throne of rubble by the mob, who began chanting again.
"God-Husband! God-Husband! Choose or doom us all!"
His nose bled again. His brain throbbed. His maid skirt rode up embarrassingly.
[System Alert: Sanity Level at 3%.]
[System Advice: Plead temporary amnesia. Sotis works in harems.]
As dawn’s first light painted the shattered Demon Castle, the battlefield still buzzed with scheming brides, bribing nobles, and chanting soldiers of love.
Rei sat slumped on his rubble-throne, eyes dead, feather duster limp in his grip.
"Maybe," he whispered hoarsely, "if I sit really still... they’ll forget I exist."
He dared to hope but then all six brides, in perfect unison, stepped forward and declared:
"Tonight. The First Night is mine."
Rei scread so hard a gargoyle exploded.
[System Notification: Harem War Arc → Phase Three.]
And thus the Demon Castle braced for yet another night of marital apocalypse.
To be continued...
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