I Raised the Demon Queen (Now She Won't Leave Me Alone)-Chapter 52 : Internal Struggle

The chapel was whitewashed and immaculate—an imposing structure that stood at the very heart of town like a beacon of order and divine scrutiny. Morning light streamed through its tall stained-glass windows, painting the floor in halos of crimson, gold, and pale blue. The benches were packed with townsfolk in ceremonial robes, all whispering with nervous energy. The Church's "Purification Ritual" was rare. Mandatory attendance was rarer still.

Elias tugged nervously at his collar, adjusting the formal white shirt he hadn't worn since... well, since funerals were more common in his life. Beside him, Rhea sat in stiff silence. She wore a modest brown dress—a church-issued garment meant to strip away "pride and magical taint." It barely reached her knees. Her legs swung from the bench, unable to reach the floor. She didn't fidget. She didn't look around.

That alone unsettled Elias more than the militant Inquisitors flanking the altar.

"Do I smell like incense or shame?" Elias muttered under his breath.

Rhea blinked up at him. "Both."

"Okay, good, we're still functioning on sarcasm. That's a win."

She didn't smile.

He didn't push further.

The air grew heavy as the Grand Inquisitor stepped forward. White hair. Gold-trimmed robes. A face so severe it could probably stop time if it disapproved of it enough.

"Today," the Grand Inquisitor announced, "we seek to cleanse our town of lingering corruption. Demonic residue, soul rot, blood taint. These evils do not always appear visible to the eye. But they can be felt. Burned away. Stripped like tarnish from silver."

His gaze swept the crowd—and lingered, if only for a second, on the small girl seated beside Elias.

A knot twisted in Elias's gut.

The Ritual began.

A ring of six acolytes moved in slow, rehearsed circles around the chapel's center. Between them floated the "Bell of Purity," a large silver censer that jingled with every slow movement. It emitted a fine white mist—smoke infused with holy magic meant to reveal hidden malice and spiritual imbalance.

Children were called forward in groups of three.

Each group stood beneath the censer. The bell would swing once. If it chimed softly, the soul was clean. If it wailed...

Let's just say no one wanted to hear the wail.

Elias leaned toward Rhea. "Don't react. No matter what happens."

She didn't nod. Her hands, clasped in her lap, were turning white from the tension.

When her name was called, Elias stood too.

The Inquisitor's assistant glared. "Only the child."

"She has trauma-related anxiety in large gatherings," Elias said, the lie smooth and practiced. "Part of her healing regimen requires my presence."

The Grand Inquisitor's eyes narrowed.

But then he gave a shallow nod.

Rhea stepped forward with him, hands clenched tightly in his sleeve. They moved into the circle. The mist touched her skin.

For a breathless moment, nothing happened.

Then—

BONG.

Not a soft chime. Not even the dreaded wail.

The bell screamed.

Everyone in the chapel flinched. The censer shook violently. The air distorted, rippling with heat and pressure like a forge stoked too quickly.

Elias heard whispers.

"Is that...?"

"She's cursed—!"

"A demon?"

The six acolytes stumbled back. One tripped over their own robe. The Inquisitors stepped forward, hands already reaching for blessed blades and warding sigils.

Rhea's face was blank. Too blank.

Her breath came in short, clipped bursts.

"I—I didn't mean to—" she whispered.

Elias touched her shoulder.

"Rhea. Look at me."

She did.

Her pupils had slit.

"I didn't mean to hurt it!" she cried out suddenly.

Cracks spiderwebbed through the floor beneath her feet. The temperature spiked. Mist began to swirl in reverse, pulled toward her like a vortex.

"Contain her!" one cleric shouted.

"She's manifesting corruption!" another barked.

"She's a child!" Elias roared back. "Back off!"

But they weren't listening. A circle of light began to form beneath her—an exorcism array. Elias recognized the pattern from a war site long ago.

He moved—shielding her with his body, arms outstretched.

"She's not a demon!" he shouted. "She's a girl. A scared girl!"

The Grand Inquisitor raised one hand.

The ritual halted. Barely.

But Rhea wasn't calming.

Inside her mind, shadows churned. The chapel, the people, the accusations—they echoed against memories that didn't belong to her tiny frame but thundered through her soul like drumbeats.

Burn them all.

They'll never accept you.

You're just waiting to fall again, aren't you?

"No," she whispered.

The darkness pressed closer.

He'll leave you. They always do.

"No!"

They see you as a monster—

"NO!"

A burst of black fire surged from her back, knocking Elias flat.

Her eyes glowed.

Hands trembling, Elias crawled to her.

"Rhea," he said, voice hoarse. "You're not alone. You don't have to fight this alone."

She turned—eyes wide, face tear-streaked.

"But I don't want to hurt you..."

"You won't. You haven't. You're still here, right? You're still fighting. That's all I need."

Her fire flickered.

"I can't stop it..."

Elias reached for her hand, ignoring the heat, the burns.

"Then let me help."

Their bond flared—visible.

A band of light—like intertwined runes and flame—wrapped around their hands. The magic pulsed outward. A shockwave knocked over every lit candle in the chapel.

The Bell of Purity cracked clean in half.

Silence.

No one moved.

Then the Grand Inquisitor stepped forward, expression unreadable.

"The ritual is... complete."

He turned to leave.

No explanation. No condemnation.

Just... a terrifying ambiguity.

After the congregation had been ushered out in a confused silence, Elias and Rhea sat alone on the floor.

Her fire had faded. She looked exhausted. Her dress was singed. His hands were blistered.

"You... you triggered the bond," she mumbled.

"Yeah."

"To stop me?"

"To reach you."

She looked at him for a long moment.

"Your hair is on fire."

"Oh." He patted his head furiously. "Ow. Yep. Okay. Pain is real."

She giggled. Then stopped. "They all hate me."

"No. They don't understand you. That's different. Understanding comes later."

"I broke the bell..."

"You cracked a divine artifact. That's impressive in its own way."

"...Will I always be like this?"

Elias thought for a moment.

"I think you'll always be you. The rest? We'll figure it out."

She leaned against his arm, small fingers wrapping around his sleeve again.

"I thought I'd lose everything again."

"You didn't."

"I almost lost you."

"You didn't."

"...Promise you won't make me do a church ritual ever again."

"Now that, I can absolutely promise."

They sat together in the ruins of incense and cracked tile, the chaos still humming around them. But her fire had quieted. And that was what mattered.

To be continued...