I won't fall for the queen who burned my world-Chapter 77: No one will come to save you

Pain burned across Elysia's face like fire searing through flesh. Her cheeks throbbed, her skin stung, and a dull ache settled into her jaw from where the woman had struck her again—and again.

The first hit had shocked her. The second had enraged her. By the third, she had stopped reacting altogether.

But that didn't mean she wasn't angry.

Her fingers curled into fists against the rough ropes binding her wrists. She could still feel the heat of her magic buried deep inside her, just out of reach thanks to the dampening sigils carved into the stone walls.

The power was there—pulsing, demanding—but the symbols held it back, leaving her as defenseless as a common prisoner.

Elysia lifted her chin, glaring at the woman standing before her.

Her captor smirked, arms folded as she studied Elysia with a look of satisfaction, as if proud of her handiwork.

"Not so high and mighty now, are you?" the woman mused, tilting her head.

Elysia didn't reply.

Not because she had nothing to say—but because her fury was simmering, sharp and volatile, pressing against the edges of her restraint.

The woman stepped closer, her boots clicking against the cracked stone floor. The sound echoed, filling the dark, damp room.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" she continued, her tone almost casual, as if discussing the weather. "You demons always act so untouchable. So superior. But look at you now—nothing but a helpless little pet."

Elysia exhaled slowly, keeping her expression impassive.

The woman crouched, placing one hand on the arm of Elysia's chair. "I wonder," she mused, her breath ghosting against Elysia's bruised skin, "is your dear queen even looking for you?"

Elysia's heart pounded harder.

"Or," the woman continued, voice dipping into something mockingly sweet, "did she decide you weren't worth the trouble?"

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The words hit their mark—but not in the way the woman intended.

Because Malvoria would come.

Elysia knew it.

She felt it.

The very idea that Malvoria would abandon her was laughable. The demon queen was ruthless, possessive, unrelenting. There was no version of this reality where she wouldn't come burning through every obstacle in her way.

And when she did—when she found this place—this woman wouldn't have the chance to smirk ever again.

Elysia let her lips curl just slightly, just enough to let the woman see exactly what she thought of her pathetic attempt to shake her.

The woman's smirk faltered.

Just for a second.

Then—CRACK!

The slap came fast, sharper this time, snapping Elysia's head to the side. The metallic taste of blood coated her tongue.

The woman clicked her tongue. "Still smiling? You really don't learn."

Elysia turned her head back slowly, deliberately.

She spat blood onto the ground beside her.

"You hit like a child."

The woman's eyes darkened.

This time, she punched Elysia—hard, right across the jaw.

Pain exploded along her face, radiating down her neck.

Still, Elysia smiled.

Not because she enjoyed the pain. Not because she was weak.

But because this woman—this idiot—was mistaking a temporary victory for a permanent one.

She thought that because Elysia was tied up, bound, unable to use her magic, that she had won.

She thought that because Elysia wasn't fighting back right now, that she wouldn't.

How wrong she was.

Elysia slowly lifted her gaze again, her violet eyes burning despite her bruised face.

The woman let out a small huff, shaking her head as if bored.

"No one will come to save you."

Elysia didn't speak.

She didn't need to.

Because the woman had just made the biggest mistake of all.

She had underestimated her.

And she had underestimated Malvoria.

The room was quiet, save for the faint dripping of water from the cracks in the ceiling. Elysia's breath was slow, measured—each inhale a reminder to stay focused, to watch, to wait.

She ignored the burning sting in her jaw, the pulsing ache where the woman's fists had connected. Pain was temporary. Pain could be pushed aside.

The woman, still standing before her, seemed almost amused by Elysia's lack of reaction. "Oh? Nothing to say?" she taunted, crossing her arms.

Elysia tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into the ghost of a smirk. "What is there to say?" she murmured, voice raspy but unwavering.

The woman's amusement flickered for a moment before she let out a soft chuckle. "You demons are always so full of yourselves. You act like you're untouchable—like you're better than us."

Elysia arched a brow despite the throbbing in her head. "I'm not a demon."

The woman scoffed. "You're married to one. That makes you just as bad."

Elysia held her gaze, unimpressed. "So that's it? That's why you're doing this?" She rolled her shoulders against the ropes binding her. "Because you hate demons?"

The woman's expression darkened, and for the first time, a flicker of something other than arrogance appeared in her eyes. "I despise them."

Elysia watched her carefully, filing away every reaction, every clue.

"Why?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft.

The woman's jaw tightened. "Because they take. They destroy. They kill."

Elysia said nothing. She simply let the silence stretch, let the woman's words hang in the damp air.

The woman exhaled sharply, as if pushing away a memory, before stepping back. "It doesn't matter what you think. It doesn't matter what she thinks." She smirked again, regaining her cruel composure. "Soon, we'll have our gold, and we'll be gone before your demon queen even figures out where to look."

Elysia's eyes narrowed. You underestimate her.

She didn't say it aloud. She didn't need to.

Because Malvoria was already looking.

Elysia could feel it—like an unspoken certainty settling in her chest.

This woman, these rebels, had made the mistake of thinking gold would be enough to stall Malvoria, to distract her.

But Malvoria wasn't the type to be bargained with.

She was the type to burn everything down.

And as if on cue—

A rumble shook the ground.

Elysia's head snapped up, her ears ringing with the sudden vibration that rattled the walls, sent dust cascading from the cracked ceiling.

The woman stiffened, eyes darting toward the door.

Then—

BOOM.

The entire room shook.

A shockwave tore through the building, the force of it knocking loose stones from the ceiling, sending debris crashing down. The woman stumbled, her eyes wide in alarm.

Elysia, despite her bound state, smirked.

She's here.

And this wasn't going to be a rescue.

This was going to be a reckoning.