Muriel THE Demon Lord

The next morning, Muriel, in her black nightgown, lay sprawled across a pile of gold and silver on her soft white bed, slowly waking up in her new abode. The sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating everything in her room clearly. Outside the window, two small blue sparrows, no larger than her palm, perched on the balcony railing.

Hearing their chirping, Muriel slowly rose from her bed, stretching lazily. Her long black hair was a tangled mess, resembling a bush from the forest. She reached for a comb in the drawer of her bedside table, which she had placed there the previous night, and began to untangle her hair. Once finished, she took out two red ribbons from the same drawer and tied them to her horns. When she made her horns disappear, the ribbons appeared to tie her hair in long pigtails.

“Ah... I feel so well-rested. What time is it?”

Muriel, now fully groomed, allowed black liquid to ooze from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, transforming her nightgown into her regal black princess attire. She then glanced at the clock on the wall of her bedroom. However, she fell silent, her face turning pale upon seeing that it was almost 8:50 AM.

Realizing she was late with only ten minutes to spare before the tournament started, Muriel heard the sound of fireworks outside her window. She rushed to her bedroom door, jumped down the stairs from the second floor, and ran to the front door. After locking it to prevent any break-ins, she sprinted towards the amphitheater near her house.

“Oh Syra please stop messing with me!!!” Muriel implored, when she arrived at the amphitheater, she encountered a crowd of various races queuing to enter the arena.

“Great, How am I going to get in?” Muriel muttered, in her human form, she could barely see over the heads of the crowd in front of her. She considered flying over them but hesitated.

“Ah, Miss Muriel, this way, please. Contestants, please enter this way.”

“Eh- Oh…. It’s you.”

Saleh, who was doing a final check, spotted Muriel at the back of the crowd. She quickly called out to her. Muriel, surprised to hear someone call her by name, turned to see the blonde staff member she met yesterday and hurried over.

“Sorry, I overslept a bit. I haven’t even had breakfast. I’m not too late, am I?”

“Actually, you’re the last one. They’re already starting inside for the contestants. You’d better hurry.” Saleh checked the final name on her wooden board and led her to the contestants’ area.

“Last one, huh…” Muriel said with a drawn-out sigh as she was guided to the contestants' lounge.

.

.

“Alright, there are 5 minutes left. Those with the first round, get ready for the match.”

“Hey, the last contestant has arrived. Can you introduce her again, Leon?”

Saleh addressed a young man with blond hair, dressed in white and wearing glasses, who was speaking to the other contestants. As Muriel walked in with her, she observed the faces of the other participants. Some looked experienced in combat, while some others seemed like rich kids with high-quality equipment. However, to Muriel, they are all like insects unworthy of her attention.

“What? Showing up late at a time like this? The match is about to start! Be serious!” Leon, annoyed by Muriel’s tardiness, immediately approached her as she followed Saleh.

“Isn’t it you who’s planning to start early?” Muriel retorted, all things considered, still technically arriving on time.

“Come on, don't argue. Muriel, please go prepare yourself. I need to have a word with Leon,” Saleh interjected, stepping in to prevent further conflict.

“Eh- oh, alright, fine,” Muriel conceded, allowing Saleh to lightly push her towards the participants, where she began to look for breakfast in the lounge.

“What’s with that black-haired girl? Being this late and talking back—”

“I believe she’ll win this tournament,” Saleh whispered to Leon quick and clear, ensuring others couldn’t hear.

“…”

“What do you mean?” Leon, taken aback, glanced at Muriel before returning his gaze to Saleh.

“It might be just a rumor Veenciel heard, but if it’s true, no one here can beat her, not even Aura,” Saleh explained.

“And how sure are you about Veenciel’s words being true?”

“Very. Yesterday, just by looking at Aura, she made her collapse.”

“We might have a dangerous individual trying to infiltrate our organization…” Leon pondered, considering the potential threat Muriel could pose.

“But, if she genuinely wants to join us, she could be a valuable ally to the boss,” Saleh added.

“So, we’ll have to wait for the boss to return and make the decision,” Leon concluded, looking at Muriel, unaware that she had overheard their entire conversation.

"Pathetic fools. I never intended to join your little secret group in the first place," Muriel thought as she listened to their conversation, a smug grin spreading across her face. "Seems like there are quite a few rich-looking people here. Maybe I should ransom some money."

"What’s this? The tournament’s about to start, and they’re letting a small kid into the contestants' lounge?" a young man with brown hair remarked.

Muriel, lost in thought and reaching for a piece of bread to stave off hunger, turned to face the voice. Before her stood a young man clad in bronze-gold armor resembling a knight’s, with a cape draped over part of it and a sword with a red gem embedded in the hilt. Having been called small twice in one week, Muriel's irritation flared, her initial hunger transforming into a craving for human flesh.

"Am I that small, or do you want to end up two meters underground?" she snarled.

"Huh? What’s with that mouth of yours?" the brown-haired knight retorted.

"Hey, you two! No fighting here, or you’ll both be disqualified," Leon interjected, approaching them swiftly.

"Fight? I wasn’t planning to. Just wanted to teach this brat with the big mouth a lesson," the knight replied, turning to Leon.

"No fighting, period. Got it? Save it for the arena," Leon insisted.

"Fine, I’ll wait. See you in the ring, shrimp," the knight said, lifting his chin before walking away from Muriel.

"Almost had some good meat," Muriel thought bitterly as she grabbed the bread, reluctantly accepting it as her breakfast.

"Looks like you’ve made an enemy of one of the top contenders," a blue-haired woman in a mix of mage and white armor said, approaching Muriel as she ate.

"Who cares? I’ve never heard of him. Why should I be interested?" Muriel replied, not even glancing at her.

"Really? You don’t know? He’s Sir Oliver of the Ardmane family," the blue-haired woman explained.

"Never heard of him, or Ardmane. If he’s too poor to buy meat, he’s not worth my attention," Muriel said, chowing down her bread indifferently.

"You’ve got quite a sharp tongue," the blue-haired woman remarked with a wry smile. "Oh, right! I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Grimold. Nice to meet you," she added, extending her hand to Muriel.

Muriel paused her chewing, lifted her head to look at Grimold, then looked back down, continuing to eat while contemplating her next move. Should she dismiss this blue-haired woman immediately? Or should she make an ally to gather more conspirators? Maybe she should just ignore her. After a moment of consideration, Muriel extended her right hand to Grimold.

"Muriel," she said, introducing herself as she took the bread out of her mouth with her left hand.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Muriel. Oh?" Grimold shook Muriel’s hand, but after a moment, Muriel jerked her hand back in surprise. Grimold’s hand felt icy cold as if she were touching a block of ice, causing Muriel to recoil.

"Your primary magic element is ice, isn’t it?"

"You figured that out just from a handshake? Seems like you’ve got quite the skill yourself," Grimold replied.

"Oh… I just guessed," Muriel said, trying to downplay her abilities.

"Uh-huh... guessed."

Grimold responded, clearly skeptical but playing along. After some time passed, Muriel was still begrudgingly munching on bread rolls for breakfast. As she chewed with little enthusiasm, Saleh returned to the contestant lounge, her eyes focused on her notepad. She walked directly up to Muriel.

"Miss Muriel, you're up next," Saleh announced as she approached, interrupting Muriel's unenjoyable breakfast.

"Sigh... Alright, let's see who I get to stomp until their ribs crack," Muriel said, standing up and following Saleh to the arena.

As Muriel walked down to the arena and entered the battleground, she scanned the spectators in the amphitheater. Her eyes were drawn to a special section where she guessed the king of Veridia was seated. Behind him to the right was a woman with white hair, wearing a half-black, half-white mask and a black cloak. As Muriel looked around the arena, she noticed several other individuals wearing similar masks and cloaks scattered among the crowd.

"So many eyes on me, huh? Fine, I'll show them my cards," Muriel thought, grinning as she walked to the center of the arena.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen! The second round is about to begin! On the left, we have the illusionist, Dacia!" the announcer's amplified voice boomed across the grandstands.

"And on the right, huh? Is that a kid? Oh, uh, Muriel!"

As Muriel and her opponent stepped into the arena, the crowd buzzed with anticipation. Across from Muriel stood Dacia, a woman with short black hair, nearly entirely covered by a cloak, except for her head, and a cloth hat that partially obscured her face. Muriel raised her arms to shoulder height, attempting to lure her opponent into attacking first.

"Skill Activation: [Illusory Transformation]," Dacia muttered, pulling her cloak over herself to hide from Muriel's view.

"What are you doing? If you don't come to me, I'll come to you, Dacia—"

Muriel taunted, as she launched herself at her opponent but her words trailed off and she froze in her tracks. Dacia had pulled back her cloak to reveal a woman with striking blue eyes and chestnut brown hair tied in a ponytail. She wore plain, lame blue clothes and long brown pants, with armor covering her chest. The combination of the mundane outfit and the sudden reveal left Muriel stunned, unable to move.

"Muriel? It's been so long. Did you miss me?" the transformed figure greeted Muriel with a warm smile.

"Fumiko?" Muriel whispered, her voice wavering.

"Come closer, Muriel. You missed me, didn't you?" Fumiko(?) slowly walked toward her, arms open. Muriel's heart raced as she struggled to reconcile the sight before her. But then, the little dragon finally realized that her only friend had been gone for a very long time.

"You're... not Fumiko!"