The Demon Queen's Royal Consort

Silence acted like a powerful extinguisher on the fire consuming the room. The minutes that followed were like a bucket of ice water on the anger that had flared in both Glenn and Lesley.

Lesley realized she had lost her composure. Someone of her position, so accomplished, couldn't allow herself such a lapse. Perhaps the pressure of her important duties as the Queen's Shadow had pushed her to that point.

All she wanted was to execute her work flawlessly, to be useful to the most important person in her life: the one who had rescued her, given her a home, cared for her traumas, and placed a trust in her she had never found elsewhere. But now, with her new responsibilities, she would spend most of her time accompanying an insane psychopath on a journey with an uncertain future.

Glenn also recognized that his reaction hadn't been the most sensible. On Earth, heated arguments, sharp exchanges, and verbal spats would have been normal. But this wasn't Earth. He was certain the woman in front of him could turn him into pig feed in the blink of an eye. 'I need to stop playing with my life like this,' he concluded.

"I quit," Glenn said after the awkward silence.

"Ah… what?" Lesley responded, surprised.

"I quit," Glenn repeated, more firmly but still respectful.

"Quit what?"

"This whole royal consort thing. I quit."

'What? What do you mean you quit? I'm sure any demon in this kingdom would kill for the chance to touch Her Majesty's hand,' a look of incomprehension crossed Lesley's face.

"What? No!" Lesley replied, flustered.

'What? What do you mean no?' Glenn thought.

"That's it. I quit being the royal consort. I have no interest in walking the path of the impossible, or whatever this is," he said, voicing his thoughts.

"I quit. I'm not worthy of someone like the Demon Queen, and I don't want to die either. So, I quit. Send me back to the mines, the labor camps, the labs, or wherever you want."

"What?! No, you can't!" Lesley responded, destabilized by the direction of the conversation.

"What? What do you mean I can't?"

"It's like I said. You can't."

"How can't I? Just tell Her Majesty I've resigned from the position. And our problems are over, mine and yours," Glenn said, making it clear he understood Lesley's dissatisfaction with the situation. "Everyone wins."

"What? No, it's impossible. You can't quit."

"Why can't I quit?" Glenn was desperate.

"A few minutes ago, you made it very clear how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things. So why can't I quit?"

"You can't, you just can't. The Queen has already chosen you. It's a one-way path," Lesley said, agitated, pointing to the wing tattoos on Glenn's chest.

Surprised by the turn of events, Glenn finally noticed the two long wing tattoos on his chest.

"What the hell is this?!" he hissed, shocked. "When did this appear?"

"That… that… um… that…" Lesley hesitated to explain.

"That's the consort's mark. Once received, it can't be removed."

"What? What do you mean it can't be removed? What if I get an injury that tears off all the skin on my chest?" Glenn asked, thinking, 'It's better to lose the skin on my chest than to be condemned to certain death as a consort.'

"It won't work. The mark will remain in your flesh. Even if you lose all the flesh on your chest, it will appear on your bones. And if you lose your bones, it will appear on your organs."

"FUCK!" Glenn exploded in frustration.

He threw his head back against the chair, and his entire expression collapsed.

'So that's it. There's no way out. I'm screwed. What a shitty transmigration! Three years as a slave and tortured, only to end up like this. Damn you, god, I swear if I ever meet you, I'll beat you until your existence turns to dust. I'll make you suffer ten times more than I did.'

Lesley was surprised by how the situation unfolded. In her mind, any demon, upon learning they had become a "royal consort candidate," would be ecstatic and euphoric at achieving what no one had accomplished in the last 150 years.

To her surprise, the young man in front of her didn't hesitate to reject the possibility. Hence the shock in her words.

A different kind of anger began to grow in Lesley, an anger she couldn't quite interpret. 'Why did those words infuriate me so much?' she thought. 'It's the logical solution to the situation. So why?'

A feeling of dissatisfaction arose in her chest. 'Who does he think he is to refuse being by Her Majesty's side?' That's when her thoughts crystallized.

She was angry that he had been selected as a "royal consort candidate," angry that she had to train him, and angry that he had refused the position. Everything about him deeply irritated her.

"It's impossible to quit. The only thing left for you is to endure," Lesley said, pulling Glenn out of his reverie with words that were almost poetic.

Glenn straightened his posture in the chair and sighed.

"What do I have to do to survive?"

Lesley's eyes fixed on him, and for the first time, something about him didn't irritate her. She expected to see lust and satisfaction but instead found a deep will to live.

"You need to become more. You need to Awaken and walk a path of power. A path where no one dares oppose you."

"Either you conquer, or you succumb. Cultivation is a relentless path. There are no shortcuts, no loans. All you have to do is be strong enough to achieve the survival you so desperately seek."

The words struck Glenn deeply. Though it sounded insane, it was all he had left. For the first time, the responsibility for his life was in his hands.

'No more depending on others. I'll take control of my life myself. If I'm going to die, it'll be on my terms.'

"Alright. How do I start?"