HELLO! Author here! Welp, the poll results were... uh... pretty overwhelming.
Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord, Season 2 [FIRST PLACE]
Anti-NTR Man [SECOND PLACE]
Zombie Novel [LAST PLACE]
I'll admit, I'd hate to disappoint since many of you came here for Anti-NTR Man. He's where my now-unfunded career began, after all. 😅
So, here's the plan:
2 chapters of Betrayed
1 chapter of Anti-NTR Man for every 2 chapters of Betrayed
And I'll keep refining the zombie novel alongside, and post it when I'll feel comfortable with its quality.
That aside, thank you for the poll, and I hope you enjoy. I tried not to overthink this one, although I did try to add more elements to the story.
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Long, long ago, there existed supreme beings who shaped the world and guided its inhabitants. Among them were The Dragon God, The Archdevil, and The Goddess Varolia. [Her name from now on is Varolia]
The Dragon God, fierce and mighty, protected the dragons, granting them strength and glamour. His presence was felt in the thunder's roar and the earth's fiery core, symbolizing his dominion over power and fire.
The Archdevil, ruler of demons, was honest yet relentless, demanding bloodthirst and truth from his followers. He whispered secrets and bestowed overwhelming magic and force upon those who adhered to his doctrine. Under his guidance, the demons thrived in war and conquest, their loyalty unwavering.
The Goddess Varolia watched over humanity with a compassionate, forgiving hand, embracing all who were human. She embodied life and light, nurturing her followers with grace. Under her divine guidance, human civilizations flourished, blooming like the flowers in her sacred gardens.
The three gods ascended to the realm of Arataxia, a place beyond mortal comprehension, where they continued to oversee the world below. Their influence persisted, each god's presence woven into the very fabric of the world, shaping the destinies of their respective races.
Today, though cast from the grace of these gods, Van decided to pray as he stood atop a grave beside an abandoned wooden house in the heart of a dense forest.
"All right, so you do it like this, right...? Luckily, it's not too complex…" he murmured, bending his knees in the forest's eye where the graveyard stood. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head, following the teachings of Amoria, regarding respect for the dead and the Goddess.
"That Goddess doesn't hear me. I know that much. So it wouldn't matter if I asked her to give you peace or something like that," he muttered. "…Either way, this one's for you…"
"…Millina," he spoke, his voice calm.
"I don't know much about ghosts and spirits. I don't know if the brainwashing you endured carried over to heaven or wherever you are, or if you're seething with vengeance toward Magus, and me for staying silent," he firmly stated.
"But I came to you because I remembered. You knew how to calm us in times of peril. So, selfishly, I address you with this," he breathed deeply.
"…You see, I've reunited with the one I love. I found her, finally. I won't tell you who it is, because if you're seething, you'd be even more so if you knew who that was," he chuckled.
"I thought I'd find some peace or strength within myself after feeling her love. Like the calmness I felt with Amoria back at the party. It makes sense, doesn't it?" Van tightened his clasped hands, his breath becoming more drawn out.
"But I'm more scared than ever," he murmured to the marked grave of his former companion, as a gentle breeze brushed through.
"Is this… how it's supposed to work?" Van tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. "When you finally get something you've searched for so long, do you always get so terrified?" he asked aloud, waiting for a response...
But the grave remained silent.
"…"
'Well, it sure looked cool when novel characters talked to graves like this, as if it gave them extra depth. I wonder if that's what I'm searching for by doing this… Some truth no one can tell me. Whatever I was thinking, honestly, I feel stupid now,' he thought, rising from the grave with a sigh.
"Anyway, I came here to calm myself down. I may hold that woman's heart, but the real battle is just beginning—or so a friend of mine says," he remarked.
"Funny," Van murmured, "this is the second time a close friend has made me this distressed," recalling one of his final lessons with Varlog.
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"Van, do you understand why I persist with these lessons?"
"You said it's because I'll be interacting with her, so I'll have to—"
"Listen," Varlog interjected with calm authority. "That was but a fraction of the truth I shared, for you were not yet ready to grasp its entirety. Now, after two years, I believe you have the strength to bear it."
"…Alright. Tell me. I trust you," Van responded with resolve.
"You aspire to stand beside Her Majesty, but mere ambition is insufficient. I am guiding you to wield a power far beyond the crude force of fear—a power that endures, commands admiration, and draws others with its grace. Demons bow to Her Majesty, and humans follow their king, not out of fear, but because they are compelled by one who moves with effortless command, who inspires unwavering devotion with but a glance. This is the power that will render you indispensable, even to a queen. If you truly wish to claim your place at her side, this mastery is essential."
"Mastery...? Varlog, I just want to be with her," Van murmured earnestly, narrowing his eyes. "You speak of power, and I understand you want what's best for me, but there's no need for concern. I just... I just want her heart, nothing more. I don't seek armies, fortunes, or war—"
"That is selfish. And inherently dishonest," Varlog scolded, his tone hardening, his frown deepening.
"If you truly, fully believe those lies you tell yourself, then leave this palace at once. I would fight to my last breath to see you exiled," he growled.
"Varlog... What...?" Van gasped. "Why...? Why are you saying this all of a sudden?"
"No, why are you, dear Van, saying what you are saying? When you spoke just now, did you consider what Her Majesty feels? Have you placed yourself in her shoes? Or have you simply imagined your own happiness, ignoring her needs, while hiding behind your insecurities?"
"…I... I haven't," Van admitted, looking down. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I just... I just thought we'd be happy together. It's not like she hates me, or I hate her. I manage well with her, and she's with me."
Varlog took a deep breath, observing Van's troubled and confused expression. "Shi-kah-kah…" Varlog exhaled in English, the foreign words carrying a weight of resignation.
"Van," Varlog began, his tone now calm and measured. Van slowly raised his head to meet his gaze.
"…You've known Her Majesty for barely a fraction of her life. You cannot speak of true love or avoid planning to win her over, relying on something as unreliable as 'personality' or 'compatibility.' You can't. I want to help you because I've grown fond of you. I truly have. I believe you have the potential to stand beside her. But you must understand that Her Majesty's infatuation with you is fleeting; it persists because you've played the innocent, helpless lover who seemed unable to resist her charms. You must realize that you are winning her heart because of a game you unwittingly initiated, and if you wish to be honest, and loyal; you must finish that game."
"But… I didn't play anything—"
"Listen to me." He whispered, yet his intensity only spiked as his gaze turned to a glare.
"…"
"That awe she feels will fade. You cannot win her heart with personality alone. Such love is selfish. You must strategize. Dilute your morals, conceal your insecurities, and hide your flaws. Maximize her pleasure, her enjoyment of your presence. Love is a game, and the prize is her heart. Play to win, and surpass any rival."
"Varlog…" Van murmured, catching his breath. "That's… too harsh... I just wanted to love her. Why is it so difficult?" His voice cracked as he forced a chuckle, lowering his head.
With a sigh, Varlog firmly tapped Van's shoulder.
"I understand. Many hold false notions about love—believing in soulmates and fate. But most fall and lose. Hence, promise me you will prioritize her needs, her pleasure, over your own morality. Do that, and you have my blessing."
Van took a deep breath, raising his gaze.
"Although I believe we are soulmates in a way..." He started.
"Fine," he said with resolve. "She's worth every bit of my morality anyway."
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"Ever since I felt our bodies intertwine, since I realized I possess her heart and she holds mine, I can't stop thinking about what that friend said… and what I'll need to do to protect what we have," Van murmured. "I feel it in my bones. I'll have to act. With all the strength I have, I'll need to endure far more than I ever have before," he continued, his voice low.
"I guess 23 years of living in constant danger gives you that kind of foresight," he added softly.
"In case anyone hears this…" Van's voice trailed off as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
"Please," he pleaded, his voice firm yet slightly shaking, "Protect my love. Whether it be the Goddess, the Archdevil, the Dragon God, or some other deity—I know there are many—just… protect what I've found with Alicia. Or at the very least, grant me the strength and wisdom to protect it myself."
"…"
"Well… see you," Van said, turning away and starting to walk towards Varolon.
Van hadn't considered.
He hadn't considered that by slaying Arutol, he might have offended the Dragon God.
He hadn't considered that, over 14 years, his unceremonious proposals to every woman of cardinal importance across all races, while unintentionally or intentionally desecrating their sacred doctrines, might have angered every known God and Goddess residing in Arataxia.
He hadn't considered that a human pursuing a demon's heart—especially after years spent in a crusade against her—then claiming that heart and wielding the Demon Tongue as a human, might have incensed the Archdevil, even under a strict peace treaty.
He hadn't considered that he did all of this while being discarded by the Goddess of his own species, no longer under her protection.
Oh, Van.
Dear, dear Van.
He hadn't considered that all those very Gods he had just spoken to...
Might have heard him...
...and taken even greater offense.
It might have been fine if it were anyone else—any other person is under the providence of one god or another.
But Van is not a man who thinks things through, despite his earnest efforts.
As he turned away and walked into the distance, the gods began to stir. A series of holographic message prompts, ones Van had just missed, flickered into existence:
[The Goddess Varolia scowls at your audacious plea, seeking the Archdevil's cooperation in your punishment.]
[The Archdevil scoffs at the request of The Goddess.]
[With a sly smile, The Goddess Varolia proposes an enticing offer, causing the Archdevil's eyes to narrow thoughtfully before he gives a reluctant nod.]
[The other gods murmur their approval, while the Dragon God remains indifferent, his focus elsewhere.]
[...Meanwhile, a being veiled in shadows chuckles loudly, amused by your rather idiotic disrespect towards the Gods...]
[...and nods at you.]