Chapter 30: The Demon King Needs Therapy
Livia Marcelline Quinn, Mental Architect Lv. 1, stepped into the guild garden, a place she usually associated with tranquility or, at the very least, predictable guildmate antics. She expected to find Phina lost in silent meditation beneath the ethereal glow of the floating plum trees, or perhaps Nyx napping soundly, camouflaged amongst the digital flora. Instead, what greeted her was far more... unexpected.
There, amidst the vibrant blooms, stood a towering figure, his massive frame oddly incongruous with the delicate task he was performing. He wore a dirt-streaked apron, cinched somewhat awkwardly around his formidable waist, and was meticulously pruning a cluster of roses with an almost surgical precision. His horns, magnificent and curved elegantly like blackened, ancient branches, gleamed with a dull obsidian luster in the soft sunlight filtering through the digital canopy. His long, muscular demonic tail flicked gently, a rhythmic counterpoint to each precise snip of his shears. Around him, an unnatural calm permeated the entire garden—a hush so profound it felt as if even the digital birds, programmed for perpetual chirping, refused to sing, awed into silence by his presence.
A system overlay, typically reserved for identifying players, materialized above his head:
[Raigor Varn, Former Demon King. Class: Retired Overlord. Current Title: Guild Horticulturist. Emotional Status: Unreadable.]
Livia blinked, then blinked again. Her mind, usually so adept at processing complex data, stuttered. "Wait... this is the Demon King?" she managed, her voice barely a whisper of disbelief. "The one who tried to vaporize half the server during the 3rd Age of Fire Patch? The one whose name struck fear into the hearts of millions of players?"
Raigor, unfazed by her astonished outburst, merely glanced at her. His crimson eyes, once feared as burning beacons of destruction, were now remarkably calm, almost serene. "I was going through some things," he stated, his deep voice carrying a surprising note of… understatement.
Miles had sent her with absolutely no explanation beyond the terse, cryptic message: "He requested you." That alone had been suspicious. The ex-Demon King was notoriously stoic, famously unreadable, and until very recently, almost entirely silent, his communications limited to grumbling at his prize-winning digital cabbages. So, the question loomed: why therapy now? Why her?
Livia cautiously approached a moss-covered bench and carefully sat down, feeling oddly vulnerable in the presence of a being capable of mass destruction, currently armed with pruning shears. "So... you called me here," she began, choosing her words carefully. "Voluntarily. Not court-mandated. That's... new."
Raigor nodded solemnly, a single, deliberate movement of his massive head. "There is something I must confront," he rumbled, his gaze fixed on a particularly stubborn rosebud.
Her Therapist's Log, sensing the imminent session, flickered to life on her HUD, eagerly awaiting input.
Patient Name:Raigor Varn
Emotional Instability Level: 7.2
Trauma Catalyst: [Small Chick Event - Tutorial Zone]
Livia squinted at the screen, a small frown creasing her brow. "Wait. Your trauma... it says 'Small Chick Event'? " Her voice betrayed her utter bewilderment. This was the Demon King. His trauma should involve ancient curses, betrayed loyalties, or perhaps the crushing weight of existential despair, not... small chicks.
Raigor's demonic tail, which had been gently swaying, went rigid, poker-straight. His grip on the pruning shears tightened almost imperceptibly, and his voice lowered, gaining a dark, gravelly edge. "I was... reborn in the Tutorial Zone after my defeat," he explained, each word carefully measured. "As penance. They made me water radishes. The players…" His voice faltered, trailing off into a guttural sigh. For the first time, Livia witnessed a flicker of genuine pain cross his usually impassive, demonic features. It was fleeting, but undeniably raw.
"They gave me a pet chick." The words were delivered with a surprising fragility, as if uttering them caused him physical discomfort.
Livia waited, a knot forming in her stomach. Her therapist's instinct told her this was important, however absurd it sounded.
Raigor clenched his pruning shears, the metal groaning faintly under the pressure. "It was... soft. Innocent. It followed me everywhere. I named it Tharnis." His voice grew quiet, almost a whisper of reverence. "And then... a Level 3 speedrunner squashed it while chasing a loot timer."
He looked up, his crimson eyes now unnervingly glassy, glistening with unshed tears. The sight of a former Demon King with tear-filled eyes was something Livia was utterly unprepared for. "They called it a 'funny bug'," he continued, his voice laced with an emotion Livia could only describe as profound heartbreak. "But I heard Tharnis scream."
Livia had to physically resist the instinct to cross the short distance and hug him. Every fiber of her being, both as Livia and as a Mental Architect, screamed for her to offer comfort. But this was Raigor Varn. She settled for clearing her throat, her voice carefully modulated. "That's... a valid trauma, Raigor," she said gently, choosing her words with precision. "The loss of a symbol of redemption. Innocence... violated. A bond broken, not by grand combat, but by senseless, casual disregard."
Raigor blinked, his gaze unfocused as if reliving the moment. "I tried to re-summon him," he whispered, "Even petitioned the devs. They replaced him with a cosmetic egg." The sheer indignity of it seemed to pain him more than his former defeat.
Silence descended, heavy and thick, punctuated only by the distant hum of the guild hall. Livia waited, allowing the silence to do its work.
Then, unexpectedly, Raigor spoke again, his voice barely a breath. "I still plant one radish for him. Every week."
Something in Livia broke. Not her composure, but an internal barrier, a mental wall she hadn't even known she possessed. This hulking, terrifying Demon King, reduced to a grieving gardener, honoring a digital chick with a single radish. It was absurd, heartbreaking, and utterly human. She tapped her HUD, activating a rarely used group projection field, a function usually reserved for demonstrating complex mental constructs in group therapy.
A glowing chick, ethereal and bright, composed of pure, shimmering pixels, materialized softly on the garden path between them. It chirped softly, a delicate, almost musical sound, and wobbled a few steps, its tiny head cocked.
Raigor froze. His shears clattered to the ground, forgotten. His crimson eyes, no longer glassy, were wide with a raw, disbelieving awe. He stared at the pixelated chick, transfixed.
"I coded him from archived sprite data," Livia murmured, her voice gentle, understanding. "He's not Tharnis. Not the original. But... he can stay. If you want." She offered it not as a replacement, but as an acknowledgment, a small flicker of comfort.
The Demon King, Raigor Varn, a being who had commanded legions and laid waste to continents, slowly, ponderously, fell to his knees in the soft digital earth. His massive shoulders, which had borne the weight of an empire, trembled. A single, shimmering tear traced a path down his rugged, horned cheek, catching the light like a fallen star. It wasn't a sob, not a wail, just one perfect, silent tear. As it touched the ground, the entire garden shimmered in response, the flowers seeming to glow a little brighter, the leaves a little greener, as if even the digital world acknowledged the profound emotional release.
A notification, quiet and affirming, blinked in Livia's HUD:
[You helped the Demon King confront his inner chick. +1200 EXP]
[Mental Architect Lv 1 Progress : 1200/15000 EXP]
And then, another, more intriguing message appeared:
[New Garden Sub-Zone Unlocked: Empath's Grove]
But before Livia could fully process this new information, something truly odd happened. The nearby rose bushes, which had been silent witnesses, began to tremble gently. The roses, usually facing the digital sun, slowly, deliberately, turned their delicate, multi-petaled faces towards Livia. Then, impossibly, one particular tulip, a vibrant scarlet, straightened its stem and swayed slightly.
"Empathic One," it whispered, its voice a soft, rustling chorus of petals, "you have awakened the roots of old." The words, though delivered by a flower, carried an ancient, knowing resonance.
Livia stood, blinking, her jaw slightly agape. "Did that tulip just talk?" she managed, utterly bewildered. This was new. Even for this game.
The entire garden, as if in agreement with the speaking tulip, began to hum, a deep, resonant vibration that pulsed through the very ground. The light intensified, and the air crackled with a latent, growing energy.
>[New Trait Acquired: World Resonance]
"The plants remember. And they have things to say."