Naily took a deep breath and headed to the hall. She had to meet Kalsas again to prove that there was a magic potion in the red tea. She quickly found the spiral staircase leading to the lower hall. As she descended step by step, that subtle sense of dissonance once again crept into her mind. She had certainly walked these stairs before, but something seemed missing from her related memories.
Before she could ponder further, Naily reached the bottom of the stairs.
She clenched her fists and slowly walked to the doorway. At first glance, the hall was empty, and the torches on the walls looked dim. She took a step and glanced to the right, seeing Kalsas on the throne.
He seemed to have changed his clothes again, still in black and red tones, but more luxurious than before. The throne was high and large, and he sat properly yet expressionless, with a large empty space beside him, revealing a sense of loneliness.
Naily quietly looked up at him, her momentary admiration fading. Unlike the previous two days, she was not easily moved by him, but instead calmly and cautiously assessed the situation.
At this moment, Kalsas stretched out his long leg, stood up, and descended the steps, walking towards her. His approach always carried an oppressive feeling. Naily involuntarily tensed her body but did not retreat.
Kalsas reverently took her hand and bowed, gently kissing the back of it. He slightly raised his eyes, looking at Naily from beneath his eyelashes, his gaze appearing hazy and naive. Naily averted her gaze as soon as their eyes met. Kalsas then let go of her hand and stood straight, uttering a few syllables: “I’m sorry.”
Naily bit her lip, unsure how to respond. Kalsas’s heavy cloak suddenly swung back with a swooshing sound, and he unexpectedly knelt down on one knee, lowering his head: “Yesterday, I’m sorry.”
Naily was completely at a loss. She awkwardly squeezed out a response: “Hmm…” The demon king, in a posture of apology, lowered his head even more: “I just…” He suddenly looked up at her, “I just love you too much.” As if afraid Naily would be impatient, he changed his usual calm and cool tone, speaking somewhat urgently: “So I couldn’t bear to think of Naily leaving.” He showed a slight smile: “But if it really doesn’t work, I will give up.” Kalsas’s sudden change in attitude made Naily unsure how to respond. She could only force a smile: “Hmm.” “Naily… would you like to go outside?” The black-haired youth’s eyes flickered, looking at her almost pleadingly. Naily could hardly refuse, honestly answering: “Yes.” Kalsas gave a shallow smile, speaking extremely gently: “Don’t be afraid.” Before Naily could understand what might be frightening in his words, she was suddenly picked up horizontally again. She looked up, her exclamation caught in her throat. In the blink of an eye, Kalsas had transformed again. Demonic horns protruded from his black hair, his red eyes more brilliant, with a circle of frighteningly bright gold around the edges of his pupils. Most striking were the pure black wings behind him, which gently flapped, lifting Kalsas and Naily into the air. They rose, spinning towards the depths of the hall’s ceiling. Naily instinctively clung to Kalsas’s neck.
The hands supporting her waist and knees remained steady, and the cool temperature gradually penetrated her clothing, stirring a bittersweet tremor. She quickly suppressed these emotions, slightly tilting her head to look at the demon king.
Dim light filtered through layers of red clouds and the hall’s colored glass, tracing light and shadow on his features. Fine dust danced around them, yet their movements were nothing compared to the heat in Kalsas’s red eyes. The emotion was too intense, causing Naily to feel a sense of fear.
She lowered her head, swallowing the question that was on the tip of her tongue. They passed through the highest point of the suspended ceiling, suddenly finding themselves on the spire of the Devil’s Lair. The air at the height was wrapped in coldness, and a strong wind blew, causing Kalsas’s cloak to flutter like a wind-dancing flag.
Kalsas stood steadily on the tower’s peak, looking calm and composed. He lowered his gaze to Nelly, softly repeating: “Don’t be afraid,” his voice becoming lower, “I’m here.” Nelly was not afraid of heights, and after a brief shock, she began to carefully look around. This was indeed an excellent vantage point.
As far as the eye could see, the snow-capped mountains behind the Devil’s Lair shimmered with light, stretching to the horizon; on the other side, houses were densely arranged outside the magic city. The further away from the magic city, the more gentle and verdant the landscape became. Nelly even suspected she could see the magnificent palace of the royal capital.
From this view, the face of Verdaya was undoubtedly revealed. This was Nelly’s first time seeing the appearance of the Verdaya continent outside the system map. The magnificent scenery was so impactful that she stared blankly for a long time before stammering: “Is it really the coast in the far distance?”
“Yes. This is Verdaya.”
Nelly raised her eyes, looking into the other’s somewhat bewitching red eyes that had revealed their demon form, and asked with a slightly wavering tone: “Does Kalsas like this scenery?”
Kalsas seemed to be stung by these words, blinking and turning his head away. After a moment of silence, he coldly answered: “No.” Nelly was choked by this simple word and decided not to speak. In her heart, she thought herself ridiculous: how could a Demon King who was determined to destroy Verdaya like this land?
She silently began to examine the entire Devil’s Lair: like all fortresses, it was essentially a circle of adjacent towers and curtain walls, connected to the outside world only by a drawbridge and high steps. Nelly’s room faced the northern valley, and this was her first time seeing the courtyard. Kalsas followed Nelly’s line of sight, his gaze fixed on the courtyard.
He silently spread his wings, diving towards a circular arrow tower. Nelly let out a low cry, involuntarily leaning closer to Kalsas’s chest. This was a more open terrace, with only a tea set and two wicker chairs. Nelly hesitated to sit down, finally having to turn her gaze back to the red tea pushed in front of her. Should she drink this tea or not?
Nelly bit her lip, trying to appear nonchalant as she sipped the tea, placed the cup back on the table, and cleared her throat: “Is Kalsas the only one living here?”
Kalsas did not directly answer this, instead showing a somewhat untimely smile: “This fortress is called Slos.” “Nelly circled back to her question, “Slos… only you live here?” Kalsas lowered his eyes, his expression somewhat inscrutable: “Yes.” He then looked at her somewhat shyly from beneath his eyelashes: “But now Nelly is here with me.” Nelly awkwardly turned her head, feeling her heart beating fast. “I will temporarily leave Slos tomorrow.” Nelly was stunned: “Leave?” Her dazed reaction seemed to please Kalsas. The most doting softness swirled in his red eyes, a smile at the corners of his mouth: “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.” “I see…” Nelly lowered her head stiffly, her voice low, unexpectedly soft and aggrieved, “Did something happen?” “Nothing, just some matters to handle.”
Kalsas’s tone was light, clearly not intending to discuss further. He stood up again to refill Nelly’s teacup, placing the teapot down without sitting. He said: “When I return, I’ll accompany Nelly here again.” Nelly mumbled in agreement, raising her teacup to cover her mouth. Tomorrow was a rare opportunity to escape – how could she possibly let it go?
