About “Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts” in a few words:

“Niehime to Kemono no Ou”, also known as “Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts”, tells the tale of Sariphi, a destined human sacrifice who unexpectedly becomes the queen of a realm of beasts and demons. Against all odds, she forms a bond with the King, unravels his mysteries, and navigates the complexities of a court where her presence is both a marvel and a menace.

Meet the characters from Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts

Sariphi

Oh Sariphi — the sacrificial princess who somehow smiles through everything, which is both heartbreaking and kind of heroic? She’s bubbly and brave in the way that makes you want to hug her and also smack some sense into the people around her, like she’s perpetually trying to teach everyone manners while accidentally setting things on fire (metaphorically, mostly). Naive? Yes. Stubborn? Absolutely, and she’ll argue with a mountain if it looks at her wrong, but she also cries into a cup of tea and swears she doesn’t like sweets even though she hoards candies in her pockets. She’s the heart of the story, endlessly forgiving but not a doormat — she surprises people with her backbone when it counts.

Leonhart

Leonhart is raw, feral royalty in a coat of glittering menace, and honestly he’s one of those characters you want on your side and also slightly terrified of; yes, he’s the King of Beasts but he acts like an exasperated cat who owns the throne. Stoic, impossibly proud, fiercely protective, but also suspiciously fond of small, weird hobbies — like arranging stones by color at midnight? Don’t ask, he’ll glare at you and then do it again; he’s complicated in the best way, a grumpy softie who will threaten the world to keep the people he cares about safe. He rarely smiles, and when he does it’s either devastatingly sincere or suspiciously smug, take your pick.

Sirius (Anubis)

Sirius is this tall, dark, mysterious guardian type with an ancient vibe — think elegant priest meets loyal bodyguard who reads too many forgettable scrolls — and he’s kind of my favorite brooding emo pal. Duty and tradition literally drip off him, but he has these tiny cracks where he’s oddly sentimental about old things, like he keeps a ragged little charm from childhood that he swears doesn’t mean anything. He’s precise, sometimes cold, but occasionally very, very dry with his humor (and you’ll miss the joke if you blink), and there’s always a sense he’s carrying more than he’ll ever admit. Also he probably likes late-night walks and naming stars; I could be making that up but now I want it to be true.

Amit

Amit is the charming wildcard — slick, loud, quick with a grin, and probably the guy who can sell you a bridge and make you believe it’s a scenic overlook. He’s clever and a little cowardly, in a lovable way, always choosing the safer path but somehow ending up in trouble anyway because his heart is too big for his brain sometimes. He flits between being annoyingly confident and unexpectedly loyal, like he brags about everything but would give up a fortune for a friend; also he has a terrible habit of quoting bad poetry at inopportune times. Honestly, he’s the spice in the group — you love to roll your eyes, then laugh, then be glad he’s around.

Jormungand

Jormungand is deliciously sinister in the best possible way — cold-blooded, strategic, and with this looming, mythic energy like a snake that knows more secrets than it should. He’s smooth, patient, and terrifyingly calm, like someone who can wait ten years to flick a finger and ruin your day, but also weirdly into tea ceremonies? I don’t know, I keep imagining him sipping tea with perfect posture while plotting world domination, which is equal parts hilarious and chilling. He gives off this vibe of inevitability — when he decides, you can hear it like a thunderclap — yet sometimes he’s almost sentimental in his small, quiet gestures.

Ilya

Ilya is adorable and fierce and somehow both a little scatterbrained and laser-focused, like a squirrel who just mastered swordplay; she makes impulsive choices but commits to them with ridiculous intensity. She’s the youthful spark — impatient, emotive, always bursting into a room with dramatic flair — but she has real depth: moments of surprising wisdom, sudden bravery when it counts, and a stubborn streak that surprises enemies and friends alike. She collects tiny trinkets and names them all, which is endearing until you realize one of them is probably a tiny battle trophy she stole. Don’t be fooled by the cuteness, though; she will bite, metaphorically and possibly literally.

Set

Set is the kind of antagonist/adult figure who feels ancient and personal, with anger that smells like thunder and a sense of wounded pride that bubbles under every word he says. He’s tough and uncompromising, a walking storm of principles — sometimes too rigid, sometimes maybe a little hypocritical, but always unavoidable. There’s a cruelty to him, sure, but also these oddly tender flashes (rare, like an eclipse) where you glimpse why he became who he is, which makes him both terrifying and oddly sympathetic. He probably keeps a journal he never lets anyone read and pretends he hates flowers but secretly appreciates them in a very dramatic, broody way.