Meanwhile a certain 'husband' knelt trembling before the grand council, his body drenched in cold sweat as he faced the fury of the highest authorities in the mortal realm.
The vast throne hall was suffocatingly silent, save for the ragged sound of Elliott's breathing. His head was lowered, his hands balled into fists against the marble floor. A crushing weight of judgment bore down upon him from the royal council and the assembled nobles, their gazes filled with contempt, shock, and unfiltered rage.
Seated at the very end of the grand hall was King Melvin Nile, the ruler of the mortal realm, his world. His imposing figure was cloaked in regal garments embroidered with golden insignias representing the divine lineage of the throne. His face was a thunderstorm of fury, his piercing gaze locked onto Elliott like a predator ready to strike.
The moment he spoke, his voice resounded like a clap of thunder, shaking the very air.
"Elliott Hawthorn, what have you done?"
Elliott shuddered violently. He had never heard a voice so filled with wrath, and the sheer authority behind it made his body react involuntarily, his knees pressing harder against the cold floor as if begging for mercy on their own.
"I—I… it was a mistake… a big mistake, Your Majesty… I—I'm sorry…" Elliott stammered, his throat dry with fear.
The king's expression twisted further with rage, his voice rising. "A mistake? A mistake, you say?! Summoning the Demon King into our realm, a realm we spent centuries safeguarding against their kind, and you call it a mere mistake?"
Elliott lowered his head further, too terrified to respond.
"You have brought disaster upon us all! Do you have any idea of the history we share with demons?
Elliott's mind spun in confusion. History? What history? He didn't know anything about that! How could he? He had only transmigrated into this pathetic body a few weeks ago, and from what he could tell, the original owner of this body hadn't known either. If the previous Elliott had any knowledge of such a thing, then surely Elliott would have inherited it when he took over.
But there was no time to argue. If he spoke out of turn, his head might roll before he could even explain himself.
"I… I am deeply sorry, Your Majesty," Elliott choked out, barely managing to get the words past his trembling lips.
The king's anger did not wane.
"Sorry?" The king's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do you understand that we spent centuries sealing the barrier between the Mortal Realm and the Demon Realm? Do you understand how much effort it took to prevent their kind from ever setting foot in our world again?"
Elliott swallowed hard. Oh… that's bad.
"And what did you do?" the king spat. "You tore that barrier apart in mere minutes! With a single reckless spell, you shattered the defenses that kept us safe! Do you realize what this means? Demons can now freely enter our realm!"
The words struck Elliott like a physical blow.
He had broken a barrier?
Not just any barrier, but the one that had protected their world from the demons for who knew how long?
His heart dropped to his feet. He had known his reckless actions were bad, but this?
His skin turned ice-cold as he truly grasped the magnitude of his crime.
Before, he had been panicking over the fact that the Demon King had claimed him as a 'husband' and refused to leave. But that was nothing compared to this.
"Do you know what this means, Elliott Hawthorn?" the king continued, his tone deathly ominous. "The demons will return. Not just one. Not just their king. But their armies. You have single-handedly thrown our world into chaos."
Elliott swallowed hard, his body shaking. He was already fearing for his life, but the king wasn't finished.
His gaze turned even colder.
"And as if that weren't enough," he continued, his voice dripping with scorn, "you allowed that demon to claim you as his husband."
Elliott flinched. He didn't like where this was going.
"The Holy Priests will never tolerate such a thing," the king sneered. "They already see same-gender unions as an abomination and you, Elliott Hawthorn, have now married a demon. That alone is blasphemy of the highest order."
"And that is not all."
Elliott barely had time to breathe before the king's voice struck him again.
"When the Holy Priests learn of this, they will demand your execution."
Elliott's breath hitched.
Execution?
The pit in his stomach grew deeper, but the king wasn't done.
"They will execute you for two reasons. First, for endangering the peace of the mortal world with your reckless spell. Second, for the disgraceful act of becoming a 'husband' to a demon."
The murmurs among the council grew louder, their words cutting through the air like daggers.
"Yes, that would be best…"
"He's a threat to the kingdom."
"He's a filth who dishonored our tradition."
"We must execute him immediately."
"He's nothing but a worthless, good-for-nothing fool."
The voices blended into a storm of condemnation. The judgment was unanimous, they wanted him DEAD.
Elliott's mind blanked.
He was going to die.
No..... he couldn't.
He hadn't even spent much time in this world yet!
He had barely been here for a few weeks, and now he was being sentenced to execution?!
Although he had once prayed for death in his past life, he suddenly didn't want to die.
His breathing became uneven, his hands gripping the cold floor beneath him as his vision blurred slightly.
No, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to be!
Just a few moments ago, he had been trying to summon a minor spirit—just one simple spell—to pass his magical assessment. But something had gone terribly wrong, and instead of summoning a harmless spirit, he had summoned the Demon King himself.
That single mistake had led him to this moment kneeling before the royal council, awaiting execution.
"We must execute him before the Holy Priests arrive," one of the council members declared. "If they get their hands on him first, they will make an example of him in the most gruesome way."
The room filled with approving nods.
Elliott felt his vision blur again. Was this really how he was going to die?
He had died in stupid ways before, but this? This had to be the dumbest.
Dying for trying to summon a harmless spirit to pass his magic test...
A really stupid way to die.
His thoughts were abruptly cut short as the king's voice rang out once more.
"We will execute you accordingly to the crime you have committed. Rest assured, you should be grateful that we are handling your death rather than leaving it to the priests."
Grateful?
How in the hell was he supposed to be grateful for his own execution?!
The king's eyes narrowed coldly. "Guards."
Immediately, several armored men moved forward, gripping Elliott's arms roughly.
"Take him to the execution stand."
Elliott's breath left his body in a sharp gasp as the soldiers dragged him up.
No. No. No.
Panic crashed over him in waves. He didn't want to die!
He thrashed in their grip, his voice hoarse as he pleaded. "Wait! Your Majesty, please! Give me a chance.. I swear, I didn't mean for this to happen! There has to be another way—!"
"Silence."
The king's command rang in his ears like a final sentence.
Elliott felt his throat close up. His struggles grew weaker as reality settled in.
This was really happening.
He was really going to die.