I Reincarnated As The Lazy Demon King's Butler

The girl knelt on the cold stone floor, her hands tied behind her back, crimson eyes burning with defiance. She had failed. She knew it. Elias knew it.

And yet, she wasn't afraid.

Not of dying.

But of what came after.

The Weight of a Decision

Elias stood before her, arms folded behind his back, expression unreadable. Across the room, Seraphine lounged against the wall, twirling a dagger between her fingers.

"Not bad for a first attempt," she mused. "A little sloppy, but the effort was there."

The girl didn't react. She simply stared at Elias, waiting for him to make the first move.

She was young, but not naïve. She knew what happened to failed assassins.

Elias sighed and crouched to her level, his golden eyes cold, calculating, but not cruel.

"What's your name?" he asked.

She hesitated. "...Reya."

"No family name?"

She shook her head. "Just Reya."

Elias nodded. He had expected as much. The rebellion recruited the nameless, the forgotten, the desperate. People with nothing to lose and nowhere to go.

That made them useful. It also made them dangerous.

The Rebellion's Plan

"You knew this was a suicide mission," Elias said, watching her carefully. "Which means your real objective wasn't to kill me."

Reya's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

Elias sighed. "You were sent to fail."

She flinched.

Bingo.

"They didn't send a trained killer," Elias continued. "They sent a symbol. A girl the nobles would recognize when they found her body. A martyr. An excuse to turn whispers into war."

Reya bit her lip.

She had known. Somewhere deep down, she had known.

She had trusted Lord Ravion, believed in his cause, believed that this mission meant something.

But she had also believed she had a chance.

That had been the lie.

Elias stood, dusting off his gloves. "So tell me, Reya. Since they left you to die for their war, why should you stay loyal?"

The room fell silent.

Then—

She laughed.

Not out of amusement. Not out of victory.

A bitter, hollow sound.

"You're good," she admitted, shaking her head. "You almost had me."

Elias raised an eyebrow.

Reya lifted her head, eyes sharp despite the sweat on her brow. "You think you can turn me against the rebellion? After everything they did for me?"

Elias didn't flinch. "They threw you away."

"And you're going to kill me anyway," she shot back. "So why does it matter?"

The Final Lesson

Elias exhaled.

She wasn't wrong.

The moment she stepped into his chambers with a dagger in her hands, her fate had been sealed. Even if he wanted to spare her, he couldn't.

Not for moral reasons.

For practical ones.

If he let one assassin live, others would think him weak. The rebellion would test him again and again. The people of this world are different.

A kingdom was not ruled through mercy.

He could feel Seraphine watching him, waiting to see what he would do. Even Azazel, in his lazy indifference, would eventually ask why the assassin who failed to kill his right-hand man was still breathing.

A lesson had to be made.

But Elias wasn't wasteful.

He walked behind Reya, placing a firm but not unkind hand on her shoulder. "One last question, then."

She didn't resist.

"Where is Ravion hiding?"

She exhaled, slow and shaky. "East. Black Hollow Keep."

Elias nodded. "Thank you."

And then, without hesitation—

He slit her throat....

A clean cut. Precise. Merciful.

Her body slumped forward, eyes still open as the light faded from them.

A moment later, a quiet sigh broke the silence.

"Well," Seraphine mused. "That was dramatic."

Elias wiped the blade against his sleeve, unbothered. "Efficient."

Seraphine smirked. "And here I thought you might let her go."

Elias glanced at Reya's body, then back to Seraphine. "Why would I waste a resource?"

Seraphine tilted her head. "She's dead."

"Yes." Elias turned toward the door, already giving orders to the guards. "Which means she's more valuable than ever."

Seraphine blinked, then grinned as she realized what he meant.

By morning, Reya's body would be found—along with evidence linking her directly to Ravion.

A dead assassin was a tragedy.

A dead assassin with proof of rebellion was a weapon.

A Message to the Rebellion

By sunrise, the city streets were buzzing.

Word had spread: An assassin, caught within the castle walls. A failed attempt to kill the Demon King's right hand.

And most importantly—proof of Lord Ravion's involvement.

The Eastern Lords had been moving in shadows and whispers. Now? They had been dragged into the light.

Sooner or later, Ravion would have to act.

Azazel, still half-asleep, slumped into his throne, watching Elias with mild interest. "So, let me get this straight."

Elias stood before him, arms folded.

"You killed the assassin," Azazel continued, rubbing his eyes. "Then turned her death into political leverage?"

"Yes."

Azazel blinked. "And I didn't have to do anything?"

"No."

Azazel yawned. "I like this plan."

Elias sighed. "Good. Because it's already in motion."

Azazel smirked. "What's next?"

Elias glanced toward the balcony, where the sun rose over a kingdom at the edge of war.

"We prepare for the rebellion," he said simply.

"And we make sure they never get the chance to strike first."