Carl glanced at her sideways, still expressionless.
At the moment she hastily looked away, a slight softness appeared in his eyes, revealing a light that was either amused or helpless, gentle as water under moonlight. Soon they arrived at a wide, deep river. Carl stopped, glanced at Naily, and let go of her hand.
Naily breathed a sigh of relief when Carl suddenly lifted her into his arms. “Wait!” Naily’s cheek pressed against his chest, the close body warm. She panicked, her voice slightly trembling.
“Don’t be afraid.” These three words again. Carl looked at her steadily, his red eyes sparkling in the shadows, reflecting a tiny version of her with inexplicable gentleness. Naily’s heart raced because of this gaze, but a strange chill crept up her spine. She lowered her eyes: “Carl, what are you going to do?”
His arms tightened slightly around her. Carl raised his head to look at the hill across the river, silently providing an answer. Clearly not answering her question about direction, Carl showed no intention of saying more. Before she could speak again, he leaped lightly to the other side. Naily looked back in the breeze, shocked she forgot to speak: The river was wide enough to accommodate three sailing ships side by side, yet Carl had easily crossed it while carrying her. Who exactly was he?
Stepping onto the riverside stones, Carl carefully set Naily down. His hand briefly touched her waist before quickly withdrawing. This fleeting touch remained, branding an invisible scar through her clothes, hot and bittersweet, impossible to ignore.
Naily felt that chilling sensation creep over her again, involuntarily drawing her shoulders together. Carl quietly observed everything, lowering the corners of his mouth. Then, he took her hand, leading her through the tangled forest with an attitude that brooked no refusal.
It was less like Naily was guiding the hero, and more like the hero was guiding a bewildered Naily. Naily felt something strange. But at this point, she couldn’t return to the city alone and could only see what Carl was planning, step by step.
Despite holding hands so intimately, an uncontrollable doubt grew in Naily’s heart; the temperature in her palm and her inner sense of vigilance were like ice and fire.
At that moment, the view suddenly opened up. Gloomy clouds, a flock of ravens circling, a tall tower standing, the wind howling coldly. Carl had crossed the Magic Forest and arrived at the stone steps in front of the demon’s lair.
Naily was already numb to the continuous surprises of the day, tugging her mouth, asking a pointless question dryly: “Are you planning to just go up like this?” The black-haired boy casually brushed back his bangs, drawing his beginner’s sword, preparing to climb the towering steps, answering her question through action. Naily stared at the sword in his hand, feeling the wind at the demon’s lair was particularly noisy. She wondered what expression the Demon Lord would have seeing such a hero approaching with a broken sword. While entertaining these thoughts, Carl had already pulled Naily up the steps, the rusty red gates of the demon’s lair suddenly before their eyes. A creaking sound, the gates of hell slowly opening. Naily’s heart was beating fast. She was almost ready to cheer: Finally, after a hundred arrivals, she would be able to escape the constraints of this game and go home! But another part of her trembled as the massive door gradually opened. She once again felt a chill. Carl’s expression was indifferent, holding a sword in one hand and Naily in the other, walking in without hesitation. The door closed behind them with a dull, heavy sound.
Torches on the stone walls on both sides were lit, and the flickering firelight danced on the pitch-black floor tiles. Before them was a circular hall, with the Demon King’s throne at the center, the obsidian on the chair back shimmering brilliantly. Naily squinted and surveyed the demon seat, shocked: there was no Demon King on the throne! This was different from the game script! The bat-shaped torch next to the throne suddenly burst into flame, casting light that alternated between bright and dim. Karl’s footsteps were light. Naily didn’t even know when he had let go of her hand. He walked to the throne, looked thoughtful for a moment, then slowly turned back. His eyes seemed filled with blood-brewed wine. He stared unblinkingly at Naily and said, “I’m Karl Sass.” There was only one Karl Sass – the master of the Demon Cave, the notorious Demon King of the Veld Ya continent.
☆ Chapter 3: Cheese
Naily’s mind was in chaos. Her face pale, she stood rooted to the spot, completely forgetting to move. Karl Sass remained calm and cold. He slowly approached Naily, his posture graceful and elegant, like a predatory beast, each step laden with tension, his blood-red eyes beautiful yet terrifying.
He stopped in front of Naily and suddenly knelt on one knee, grasping her stiff right hand and kissing the back of it. His fingers and lips were slightly cool, making Naily shudder, finally awakening from her shock. She trembled, ready to retreat. But Karl Sass increased the strength of his grip and looked up, his gaze preventing Naily from moving. He lowered his eyelashes, his expression slightly aggrieved, momentarily showing a youthful shyness, completely different from the threatening approach just moments ago. He again solemnly kissed the back of her hand, his lips lingering longer than before.
Naily couldn’t help but want to pull her hand away but was too frightened to generate any strength. “Don’t be afraid,” Karl Sass repeated, his words gentle, a smile at the corner of his lips. He looked very charming when he smiled. This was the first time Naily had seen him smile, but her surprise was quickly overwhelmed by fear, and she remained silent. Karl Sass seemed unconcerned, his eyes hot as flames, repeating: “Naily, don’t be afraid.”
This time, Naily couldn’t bravely say “I’m not afraid,” she just asked hoarsely: “What… are you going to do?” The young-looking Demon King blinked innocently, a slight blush on his cheeks, his tone almost naive: “I… want to be with Naily.” He smiled again, obvious joy on his face.
With a casual wave of his hand, a young man in uniform appeared before him. Naily looked back unwillingly, and the Demon Cave’s door was indeed tightly closed. Karl Sass’s lips tightened slightly, and he softly ordered the summoned servant: “Take Naily to rest.”
“Karl Sass…” Naily hadn’t even finished speaking before being interrupted. “Karl,” he corrected. Naily took a deep breath: “Karl, I…”
“Hmm?” He loosened his hold on her, standing face to face, taking advantage of his height to slightly lower his head. Naily trembled, biting her lip: “Nothing.” Karl said nothing more, just glanced at the silent standing servant, who immediately bowed slightly, indicating for Naily to follow him to “rest”.
There were deep doorways on both sides of the circular hall, connecting to spiral, winding stairs. Naily followed the silent servant up a section of stairs, turning into another equally silent corridor. The black and white marble walls on both sides were pure and simple, starkly contrasting with the hall’s throne adorned with precious treasures.
They walked for a long time without passing a single door.
