I Raised the Demon Queen (Now She Won't Leave Me Alone)-Chapter 56 : The Inquisitor Strikes

It began at dawn.

Birds chirped. The morning sun peeked gently over the rooftops. Dew glistened on the grass.

And a dozen armored knights from the Church of Divine Purity smashed through Elias's front gate like they were auditioning for an opera titled "Surprise, You're Under Arrest!"

Elias was still in his pajamas.

He stumbled out of the bedroom with one slipper on and a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. "Whuh—?!"

His front door exploded off its hinges.

A knight pointed a halberd straight at his face. "Elias Cross! By order of the High Inquisition, you are under arrest for suspicion of consorting with infernal entities!"

He blinked at the halberd, spat out his toothbrush, and said, "...Do you have any idea how dramatic that sounded?"

Another knight shoved a scroll in his face. "This is a holy writ. We have legal authority."

"I'm in boxers."

"You stand accused of housing corruption and hiding a vessel of demonic power."

Elias stared, toothbrush still dripping on the floor. "Okay, yes, that part might be technically—"

"I knew it!" yelled the lead knight. "Seize him!"

Meanwhile, Rhea had been awake for five minutes. And she had made it exactly three steps toward the kitchen before she realized the front of the house was on fire.

Well. Metaphorically.

Mostly.

There were knights. There was shouting. There was Elias yelling something about his rights as a homeowner.

She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and muttered, "Of course."

Then she walked out the front door in her nightgown like an angry cat dragged out of bed.

"What is going on," she said, glaring.

The knights turned. Some paled. One made the sign of holy protection.

"Inquisitor!" one hissed. "She's here—look at her! The cursed child!"

Rhea blinked. "Cursed child? Rude."

"Do not approach!" shouted the man with the fanciest shoulder pads—clearly the Inquisitor himself. "You are identified as a demonic vessel. Surrender peacefully and no one will be harmed."

Elias, now being half-dragged toward a wagon, yelled, "She's not a vessel, she's just a kid—!"

The Inquisitor pointed at him. "You, be silent. You're corrupted by proximity." freewёbnoνel.com

Rhea narrowed her eyes. "Corrupted by what now?"

The man lifted a holy censer, glowing with a cold blue light. "This relic detects the unclean. And you, child, are saturated with infernal taint."

She tilted her head, then deadpanned, "Maybe your relic needs glasses."

"You will come with us. Or we will exorcise you."

And that did it.

Because even though she joked, even though she kept things light, even though she'd made pastries and laughed and tried very, very hard to be normal—

They were threatening him.

And that part of her—the ancient, buried part that remembered thrones of obsidian and skies split with flame—rose up.

Her eyes flashed crimson.

The wind around her curled in reverse.

The Inquisitor stumbled back, eyes wide. "What—?!"

A second pair of horns flickered into view atop her head, wreathed in black light. Her nightgown fluttered like royalty's cloak in the sudden magical surge.

"I'm going to say this once," Rhea said calmly, a breeze curling around her feet, cracking the cobblestones. "Let. Him. Go."

One of the knights drew a blade. "Demonspawn! She's manifesting—!"

Rhea's partial form pulsed. Her shadow lengthened. The grass withered.

Elias, still halfway restrained, groaned. "Please don't blow up the garden again—!"

She raised one hand, and the nearest knight's armor froze. Not with ice—but as if the metal itself feared to move. His legs locked mid-step. His sword clattered uselessly.

The Inquisitor raised his censer again. "The purification rites will destroy you!"

"Maybe," Rhea said, stepping forward. "But I'm not the only one here with fire."

And that's when Elias—bless his tired, overwhelmed, half-dressed soul—staggered free of his captors, threw a rock at the Inquisitor (which missed), and yelled, "You tell them, sweetie!"

Everyone paused.

Rhea turned slowly.

"I'm sorry," she said, "sweetie?"

"I panicked!"

The Inquisitor made a frustrated noise and cast a rune of binding—but before it could activate, Rhea's eyes glowed. The air cracked like glass, and the rune disintegrated mid-sentence.

She turned her head, still calm. "Do not hurt him."

The general—hidden until now—emerged from the woods behind the house. Cloaked and silent. One of Revantra's last loyalists.

He didn't say a word. Just drew his black glaive and walked forward like a ghost dressed in death.

"General?" Elias called. "What're you doing—?"

"I have received a command," the general replied, not even looking at him. "I protect. I do not harm. But I will remove threats."

Rhea, flushed with power, nodded once.

"Stand down," she said, more to the world than anyone. "I don't want to hurt you. But I will not let you take him."

The wind howled. The censer cracked.

The Inquisitor hesitated.

And then he did something incredibly dumb.

He lunged at Elias.

Rhea's body reacted faster than thought.

She moved in front of him, shadows curling like wings. A sphere of protective energy surged around them—and the impact blew the Inquisitor off his feet, flinging him through a fence and into Elias's neighbor's tomato garden.

Silence.

A tomato dripped down his face.

"...Ow," he muttered, before fainting.

An hour later, the knights were gone.

Dragged off by the general, who'd made it very clear that next time, he wouldn't be so merciful.

Elias and Rhea sat in the wreckage of their yard, sipping the world's most traumatized tea.

"You okay?" Elias asked.

Rhea was quiet.

Then: "I lost control. Again."

"No," he said softly. "You chose to protect me."

She didn't respond right away. Just stared at her locket. "They're right, though. I'm dangerous. If I ever snap—if I ever go full demon—"

"You won't."

"You can't know that."

"I do," he said firmly. "Because you're not alone. You have me. The general. That weird pastry you made that's probably still watching us from the windowsill."

She snorted.

"Besides," he added, nudging her, "if you go full demon, who's going to make sure your horns match your outfits?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a nerd."

"You're such a disaster."

They laughed.

And in the aftermath of chaos, amid broken gates and burned runes and a neighbor complaining about his ruined tomatoes, they sat together—two fugitives, bonded by trust, magic, and absurd resilience.

Tomorrow, they would begin their real journey.

Tonight, they simply breathed.

Together.

To be continued...