Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

A faint scent of disinfectant filled the quiet room, accompanied by the distant sound of dripping water. It was a smell Lowell was familiar with, though he hadn’t had reason to encounter it in some time.

“Mr. Eun-oh.”
A small voice rang in his ear.
“Hm… no response. It does feel a little off—should I try calling you Lowell?”

He wanted to open his eyes and answer, but it was like sleep paralysis—his body wouldn’t move.
“Lowell, are you listening?”
After a long struggle to part his lips, Lowell finally managed to stir them slightly—but just then, the voice began to fade into the distance.

“I… want my body back…”
The voice was low and gentle, but so blurred that he couldn’t make out the words. And strangely enough, the further away the voice drifted, the freer Lowell’s body began to feel. By the time he forgot he’d even heard it, he was finally able to open his eyes.
***

“Mmm…”
The unfamiliar ceiling that greeted Lowell came two full days after he had collapsed.
I didn’t think I’d sleep this deeply after dozing off on horseback.

In his foggy state, he hadn’t realized he’d been sick—he thought he had just woken up after a full day of rest. As he lifted his heavy body, dizziness swept over him. He reached for his head, and Tia, who had been standing watch, rushed to his side.
“Lowell-nim, are you all right? Your fever hasn’t fully gone down—you must be careful.”
“Yes… Has any word come from Felix-nim?”

Even with his eyes closed from dizziness, Lowell’s first concern was Felix.
“He made it into the capital safely. It seems they’ll strike the ritual site before sunrise tomorrow.”
The news snapped him fully awake. It meant things were going according to plan—good news, yet disorienting, since Lowell had lost track of time.

“He’s already there?”
“Yes, Lowell-nim. You were quite ill, so you may not realize it, but two days have passed since we arrived at the castle.”
Lowell’s mouth fell open at Tia’s words. Instinctively, his hand moved to his belly.
“How’s the baby?”

“There’s no need to worry. They said the child seems to be in better shape than you are.”
The answer carried a silent reprimand—maybe you should worry about yourself first. Embarrassed, Lowell raised a hand to his forehead.
Is my hand just hot, or do I still have a fever? Hard to tell…

It was only now, belatedly, that he realized how sore and heavy his body still felt. He quietly lay back down on the bed.
“I’ll bring some food.”
He wasn’t hungry, but Lowell forced himself to eat. Even forcing it down filled his stomach a little, and his eyes began to droop again.

“I keep getting sleepy… it’s a problem.”
“They said it’s part of the recovery process. The priest will return later, so rest for now. I’m sure there will be good news by tomorrow.”
“I hope so.”

But things didn’t go as Tia had hoped. The signal came that evening, just as Lowell had begun to recover—an explosive sound from outside the castle.
“What was that noise?”
It had been three hours since the last report that they would likely ambush the ritual site. By Lowell’s estimate, the Crown Prince would be apprehending those preparing the ritual, Felix would be heading to the Duchy of Dussel—the primary orchestrator—and the nobles allied with the Crown Prince would be raiding the other ringleaders’ estates.

Lowell, who had been waiting with bated breath for word from Felix, suddenly leapt to his feet. Whatever was happening, no one in the castle had anticipated it—outside, everything had erupted into chaos.
“Go find out what’s happening.”
Tia quickly ordered one of the guards stationed outside the door. It wasn’t a good sign.

Even if there’s no danger… you can still call for me. No matter what, I’ll answer.
Lowell stared at the ring quietly, then shook his head. Felix’s words echoed in his mind, but this was the most critical moment.
If they fail to capture Duke Dussel—the main conspirator—then the Crown Prince and Felix could be accused of staging a coup. And if the enemy is already within the castle walls, trying to contact Felix now would be the worst possible choice. We’d be handing them our location.

No matter how he looked at it, this was not the time to reach out.
“Young Lord!”
Not long after making his decision, the master of the castle burst into the room, face pale and breath ragged. The knights guarding Lowell immediately drew their swords to block his path. The one in the rear checked their exit route, preparing in case it was a trap.

“T-The priest we brought in just now—he suddenly set off fireworks. It must’ve been a signal to someone!”
“Did you tell him who I am?”
“Of course not! Never!”

Lowell clenched his teeth. The timing—just as they’d begun targeting the nobles—was far too precise to be a coincidence.
No way… did the Emperor issue a secret order to have me captured?
To the Emperor, rallying the nobles he believed were on his side and staging a large battle might have been his best shot at winning.

But then why, the moment trouble breaks out, would he prioritize capturing me over counterattacking?
That meant he valued either completing the ritual—or destroying Felix—more than winning. It made no sense, considering that losing here meant political ruin.
Maybe the same goes for the Crown Prince and Felix. They say black magic warps the mind… maybe it’s destroyed his judgment.

Frankly, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that using black magic at all was proof of mental collapse. Lowell couldn’t help but curse inwardly. It was just like the Emperor—ruining a smoothly running empire in an instant.
It’s that damn inferiority complex. And with desires as obvious as his, the nobles probably found him easy to manipulate.
Lowell thought bitterly that the only reason the empire hadn’t already been crushed by foreign forces was thanks to the Crown Prince and Felix.

“They say the mana waves around the area are intensifying. We’ll begin preparations for a siege, but the enemy numbers are larger than expected. You must hide in the underground tunnel, Young Lord. If the defenses fall, you’ll need to escape immediately.”
A creeping sense of dread climbed up Lowell’s legs. A dull ache spread through his belly.
***

The castle entered battle-readiness in an instant—but the enemy pushed in with overwhelming numbers. The moment one wave was repelled, another came. And the numbers kept growing.
“They seem convinced I’m here. Judging from how they’re not even considering the possibility of a decoy, they must be certain for some reason.”
Lowell spoke while half-supported, nearly carried in Tony’s arms.

“If that’s true, then the Arendelle family nearby must be leading the black mages here. If that happens, it’s only a matter of time before the defenses collapse. It would be better to escape now—while their forces are scattered between the assaults.”
Tia offered her opinion assuming the worst—and Lowell agreed. The problem was Lowell’s body wasn’t cooperating. As he glanced down at his trembling legs, Tony, who had been watching closely, spoke up.
“I’ll carry you. It’ll be quicker, and easier to stay hidden that way.”

“Which way do you think we should go?”
There were two options: head toward the capital, or away from it. The former meant a chance to reunite with Felix. The latter meant escaping the Emperor’s sphere of influence, at least a little.
Realistically, it’s probably the same wherever we go…

Lowell chose the latter.
“Let’s go back the way we came.”
Once the decision was made, they moved fast.

What happened to the support the Crown Prince said he’d send?
The thought flashed through his mind—but there was no time to sit around waiting like a fool. Lowell and the knights slipped through the secret passage, moving quietly. Lowell kept glancing over his shoulder, the back of his neck prickling.
“It’ll be all right. We’re outnumbered and may fall temporarily, but what matters is what happens in the capital.”

“Yes. I’d only be a burden if I stayed.”
Fighting to protect someone always made battle harder—especially the longer it dragged on. Still, Lowell couldn’t help but wonder—if he hadn’t chosen this castle, would these people still be safe? He couldn’t shake the thought that he’d sacrificed them.
“There’s movement ahead—hostile! We’ll reroute!”

But there was no time to sink into guilt. Tia, at the front of the group, changed direction. The already high tension among the knights spiked.
“Movement behind us too!”
The enemy was closing in around Lowell ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) from all sides.

Are we being surrounded?
Such precise coordination would only be possible if someone were tracking Lowell’s movements in real time.