It Seems the Demon King Has Returned to a World Where Gender Roles Are Reversed - Chapter 26

Chapter 26 : Negotiation

It was a long time ago.

Back when Ragna was still active as the Demon King.

In the days when he trembled with rage after losing Margarita, Ragna had ordered that captured humans be executed without exception, never spared.

But one of his subordinates disobeyed that order and kept the human prisoners alive.

When confronted in anger, the subordinate explained that the prisoners were human generals and knights. They believed it would be better to keep them alive to extract information rather than kill them.

It was a reasonable argument.

No matter how consumed by rage he was, the subordinate’s judgment was sound.

In the end, Ragna could only nod in agreement.

But there was a problem.

The issue was how to extract information from these prisoners.

The concept of prisoners didn’t exist in the demon realm.

In battles between tribes, there were only victors and losers.

There was no such thing as torturing someone to extract information, as was common among humans.

The only law was the logic of power.

According to that logic, the loser followed the victor, and the victor led the loser.

That was the law of the demon realm.

As such, Ragna’s subordinates were amateurs when it came to torture.

And Ragna was no different.

Even though he had introduced the concept of politics to the demon realm, it was limited to persuading others with words and ideals.

He had never once coerced or tortured an enemy to extract information.

Thus, torture was entirely unfamiliar to him.

But that didn’t mean he could slaughter the prisoners recklessly.

They might hold information crucial to the Demon King’s army’s future movements.

Killing them without extracting that information would be a terrible waste.

Mimicking human methods wasn’t satisfactory either.

Given the differences in physiology between humans and demons, a reckless interrogation could result in losing valuable informants.

So, Ragna was at a loss.

And so was the subordinate who had brought up the issue.

Then, an interesting story reached his ears.

Someone had volunteered to torture the prisoners and extract information.

That someone was none other than a soldier who had been among the prisoners.

Astonishingly, the soldier claimed to have survived by taking the armor from a dead superior, posing as a high-ranking official.

Having barely survived and become a prisoner of the Demon King’s army, he now offered to betray his own kind to save his life.

He boasted that if given the chance, he could extract all the information the prisoners held.

Intrigued, Ragna and his subordinate decided to let him try.

After all, these were prisoners they had planned to kill anyway.

If he succeeded, great. If he failed, it didn’t matter.

Ragna paid it little mind, harboring no expectations.

A few days later,

As promised, the soldier returned with a wealth of information extracted from the prisoners and presented it to Ragna and his subordinate.

The information was astonishing, including details about hidden human bases and secret passages behind fortifications—information that could potentially turn the tide of the war.

This piqued Ragna’s interest in the soldier.

How had he managed to make those stubbornly silent prisoners talk?

With a vile grin, the soldier explained.

People often think of torture as inflicting physical wounds.

They believe that causing extreme pain forces the victim to spill information willingly.

But that, he said, was a third-rate method.

Relying on violence clouds the purpose and damages the victim’s body.

Moreover, intense violence dulls the nerves, allowing the victim to adapt to the pain.

That defeats the purpose of torture.

So what should be done? The key was the *quality* of the pain.

The goal was to torment the victim while keeping their body as intact as possible.

Common methods included pulling out nails or rubbing salt into small wounds.

Inflicting maximum suffering through minimal damage.

But even that was merely a second-rate method. The human body, bit by bit, wears down. Pulling out nails takes months to heal, and lost teeth never grow back.

In the end, it’s no different from third-rate methods.

Intrigued, Ragna asked what should be done instead. With a sinister smile, the soldier answered.

The purpose of torture is simple.

To extract the information you want.

For that, it’s not the body that should be tormented—it’s the mind.

While harshly treating the body, you must instill psychological shame and brainwash them into submission.

It’s akin to handling livestock. Constant whipping only weakens and sickens the animal.

Moreover, those of noble lineage often fall into a particular delusion.

They see the pain inflicted on their bodies as a noble sacrifice, a trial they must endure.

For them, death is a glorious ascension.

Thus, it’s crucial to make them believe they cannot die, to show them that death is not an option.

And to do that, you target the most sensitive parts of their body, tormenting them to break their resistance.

With relish, the soldier detailed his torture methods and what he had done to the prisoners.

It was uncomfortable to hear, but also undeniably intriguing.

___________________

Recalling that memory, Ragna regained his composure.

He continued to force the sword’s hilt into Karen’s .

The soldier had said it.

The most psychologically humiliating pain for a human comes from targeting their sexual areas.

More effective than pulling nails or crushing limbs was attacking exposed genitals or the anus—areas where nerves are raw.

Those parts are the most precious and taboo in the human body.

Areas that must never be touched by others.

Thus, violating them is an unthinkable disgrace for a human.

Even the most virtuous saint would scream and wail in agony, he had said.

And now, Ragna was putting that soldier’s words into practice.

The sword’s hilt, grinding as it went, reached its limit and could go no further.

At that point, Ragna eased the pressure on his hand.

“Ah… ah…”

Perhaps from relief that it was over, Karen panted in agony, staring in disbelief at her lower body. Ragna gave her time to process her situation. When he deemed enough time had passed, he gripped the hilt again and applied force.

*Crunch—crunch.*

“Eek! Stop, stop!”

Karen trembled in pain.

But Ragna didn’t loosen his grip.

Instead, he applied even more force.

However, he had no intention of pushing it further.

Doing so would likely cause something truly unthinkable. Instead, Ragna chose the opposite action.

He began pulling the hilt out.

“Ahh… ugh, aaah!”

A sickening sound accompanied the sensation of the hilt’s pommel scraping her insides, making Karen’s body convulse.

Observing her reaction, Ragna pulled the hilt out slowly, as if dripping water drop by drop. When it was partially removed, he pushed it back in.

“Gyaaah!”

Karen screamed in pain.

But Ragna’s hand, shoving the hilt back in, was merciless.

“Aaah! Stop! Stop!”

“…Not yet. Don’t think this ends here.”

“Ugh…”

“You’re probably thinking you can buy time. Waiting for someone to notice something’s wrong and come for you, or for your body to recover. Fine. I’ll play along until this night is over.”

At Ragna’s words, Karen’s expression hardened. And then, Ragna delivered the final blow.

“Feel like passing out? Go ahead and try. I’ll wake you with my magic. No, wait you’re a knight. You wouldn’t faint so easily, would you?”

As he spoke, Ragna began pulling the hilt out again.

Feeling her insides being torn apart, Karen shrieked in panic.

“Alright! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”

“…”

“Ugh! Aah! About the White Knights, right? I’ll talk, I’ll talk, just please stop!”

“…”

At Karen’s desperate plea, Ragna relaxed his grip on the hilt.

Seizing the moment, Karen shouted in a frantic voice.

“The obsession with the White Knights is because it benefits the nation! That’s why every country strives to get their knights into the White Knights!”

“Why does it benefit the nation?”

“Because of the Union Kingdom! Specifically, the production facilities owned by the Papal Office. The resources from those facilities are distributed to each nation based on the decisions of the Union's leadership. And the biggest influence comes from the number of knights from each nation in the White Knights!”

Her scream was almost a wail.

And with that, a missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Ragna’s mind, resolving his questions.

The Union Kingdom, mentioned time and again, wielded far more influence than he had imagined.

And within that organization, each nation was vying to expand its influence, to claim as much of the Union's resources as possible.

“…I see. That makes sense, then.”

“Yes, exactly! It’s unavoidable! Having one more knight in the White Knights means a higher standing in the Union Kingdom for the nation! It means greater national power. So it’s only natural, isn’t it? A lumberyard boy versus a girl who will fight for her country’s future on the front lines.

No matter how rare a male golem operator is, the value is incomparable!”

Karen declared boldly, as if proving her innocence.

Her words, though cold, might be true.

In this world, the Union Kingdom influence was beyond imagination.

As an organization created to fend off demonic invasions, it controlled numerous mines and resource production facilities.

Take this lumberyard, for example.

Ragna recalled what an old man had told him when he first arrived here.

This place was hell.

A hell created by the Union Kingdom to produce the timber each nation desired.

True to those words, this place was fittingly called hell.

And based on that exploited labor, the lumberyard produced vast amounts of timber.

The problem was that this wasn’t the only such place.

There might be mines called hell in the mountains somewhere.

Or vast farms called hell on some plain.

And elsewhere…

The wealth generated was funneled into the pockets of each nation’s leaders.

It was then used as fuel for their industries.

But when resources were distributed based on national power, conflicts were inevitable.

Thus, the White Knights were created.

A prestigious military force of only one hundred elite members from various nations.

And the Union's leadership added one condition:

The distribution of resources would be adjusted based on the number of knights from each nation in the White Knights.

Some likely protested, others openly opposed. But there was no better system for distribution.

As a result, the measure passed with majority support, and the White Knights became more than just a measure of national prestige.

Nations began pouring efforts into finding exceptional knights to join the White Knights, aiming to secure as many spots as possible.

Karen was one such knight, a product of those efforts.

Though her rank was low, she served with unmatched determination.

Moreover, she harbored deep patriotism for her homeland, Shreid, which had supported her entry into the White Knights.

That’s why she couldn’t refuse the request to mentor Seria, a promising candidate to join or succeed her in the White Knights, nor could she tolerate Ragna, who seemed to lead Seria astray.

“Seria is still just a cadet. A scandal would only harm her evaluation! That’s why I couldn’t forgive you! If such rumors spread, it would make it harder for her to join the White Knights!”

Karen shouted, glaring at Ragna as if all of this was his fault.

And Ragna, receiving her gaze head-on,

“…”

Silently lowered his eyes.

Karen looked at him suspiciously.

And then,

“Pfft…”

“…?”

“Pfft… heh heh heh… HAHAHA!”

Bursting into wild laughter, Ragna shook with mirth. Shaking his head in disbelief, he muttered,

“Is that so? That’s why you tried to kill me? For such a pathetic reason?”

“Pathetic? A lowly creature like you could never understand the struggles of someone bearing a nation’s fate! This is about the future of our country! I couldn’t let a wretch like you ruin it”

“Shut up!”

“?!”

Ragna’s murderous aura silenced Karen. He glared at her, his eyes glowing red.

Something stirred in his gut, crawling up slowly.

A sensation he had forgotten for so long, one he swore never to forget but had somehow let slip.

That sickening feeling made Ragna grimace.

And he muttered,

“Truly disgusting. The true nature of humans…”

Why had he forgotten?

And why, for a moment, had he started to believe in humans?

Humans were like that.

When they held power, they believed it was their right to wield it, forcing sacrifices on others in the name of their so-called justice.

They justified their countless wrongs under the guise of belief.

That was the nature of humans.

Because of that nauseating sense of entitlement, he was cast out from the Mage Tower.

Because of that nauseating justice, he lost Margarita and drove countless subordinates to their deaths.

And now, because of that nauseating belief, he had faced death.

What irony.

It was enough to make him want to vomit.

*Grab—*

“Ugh!”

Karen groaned as Ragna seized her face.

With a menacing smile, he spoke.

“…I won’t kill you.”

“…”

“And I won’t let you die. I’ll keep you alive to the end. And I’ll make you suffer for the rest of your life.”

“?!”

Sensing something in his words, Karen paled and struggled.

But Ragna was already chanting a spell.

From his lips came the weakening spell he had used before.

Purple smoke hissed from his hand, flowing toward Karen’s body.

“Ugh…”

Already weakened to her limit, the spell was a finishing blow.

Her body went limp, drained of strength. And toward Karen’s now-slack face, Ragna reached out with his free hand.

His hand was headed for none other than her mouth.

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Translated by Reversalnovel.web.id