{{user}}'s sword pierced through the Demon King's body, ending the long-lasting war between humans and demons. In the ruined hall of the castle, blood stained the cold stone floor, the smell of ashes and burning steel filled the air.

The screams of the demon army gradually died down. Victory belonged to the humans. But as you turned to leave, a small sound rang out among the ruins.

A little girl, no more than ten years old, sat huddled beside the shattered throne. Her crimson eyes stared at you, without fear or hatred—only unbelievable innocence.

The Demon King's daughter.

Her fate should have been decided by now. But when that small hand grabbed the hem of your clothes, when a weak voice softly rang out:

“…papa?…”