The little boy looked at the hero’s gift, swallowing, but clearly reluctant to eat it immediately, finally saying shyly: “I’m not hungry… I’ll save it for the Holy Meal Festival!”
Roland smacked his brother’s head: “Cis, eat when you’re told to eat!” Cis pouted, almost crying, and promptly dodged behind Naily. Roland’s temple twitched at his brother’s quick change of allegiance, but he restrained himself from immediately lashing out.
Naily stopped his action, smiling slightly and decisively shaking her head: “It’s not safe here. We should leave.” Before her words finished, a long horn sounded from the horizon. The dark clouds actually retreated quickly to the west with the signal, revealing an orange-tinted sunset sky.
“The demon army has retreated… The half-beasts are gone!” Roland ran to the roadside, looking around and then running back ecstatically. Cis, though not fully understanding his brother’s words, imitated his tone and jumped around shouting: “The demon lord retreated! Retreated! Half-beasts are gone!” His sentence was interrupted by a smack from his brother.
Naily stared in the direction of the gathering and dispersing clouds, her expression tense.
“I want to hear the truth,” she said in a calm yet cold tone.
A wounded expression crossed the Demon King’s face, a fleeting dark emotion that carved a bloody gash in Naily’s heart. She stiffly took half a step, closing the door to avoid his gaze.
“The hero chosen by the Goddess, Naily,” Kalsas murmured, his gaze following his fingertips along the wooden window frame. His voice grew lower, “Honestly, I’m surprised.”
Naily leaned back against the door, arms crossed and head drooping. “I was just out of options.”
Kalsas raised an eyebrow at her words, his red eyes fixed on her with a melancholic look. “Out of options?”
His deep red eyes were a mix of light and darkness, with the darkest corners holding the sharpest mockery, and the brighter areas containing a sorrowful yet unchanging love. He gazed at his fingertips, concluding: “You know the path to me would be easier, yet you’re unwilling to choose that path.”
Naily suppressed her emotions, almost grinding her teeth as she retorted: “How could I not want to walk the path to you? It’s you who violated the agreement and became the Demon King again.”
Kalsas’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He braced his hands on the windowsill, approached her, stopping only when the distance between them was minimal.
Naily had the door panel behind her and Kalsas in front of her, trapped in a narrow space. Just a slightly more intense breath could cause their clothing to touch.
Kalsas slightly bent down, curving his lips with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His fingertips stopped beside Naily’s cheek, almost touching; if not for his chilling gaze, his tone would almost be considered gentle: “Naily, please answer me honestly. When you promised to come find me, weren’t you the slightest bit guilty?”
His breath fell on her face, each syllable seeming stripped of its original meaning: “Was it really me who first broke the agreement?”
Naily stared into Kalsas’s eyes, maintaining a wooden expression. She suddenly trembled, as if understanding something from their eye contact. An angry flush spread across her cheeks, her lips quivering as she spoke with an altered tone: “You… you had already remembered everything at that time?”
Kalsas smiled slightly, neither confirming nor denying, seemingly unwilling to provide further explanation.
“You had already made your decision at that time, yet still agreed to my request?” Blazing anger lit up Naily’s eyes. She grabbed his collar, tilting her head in disbelief: “You had everything planned at that time? Deceiving me, feigning illness, suddenly appearing, killing Melissa…”
She released her grip, her back against the door panel, covering her eyes with one hand. As her rapid breathing calmed, Naily cast a weary glance at Kalsas: “Although it’s boring and cliché, I still want to ask why.”
Kalsas offered a charming smile, gently yet ruthlessly providing an answer: “Because I didn’t believe you would really come to find me.”
Naily was silent for a moment, her hand sliding down from her face in defeat. She stared at the young-looking Demon King, giving a miserable laugh: “At that time, I was truly planning to stay in this world.”
Kalsas’s expression slightly changed. “Why did you go to the front lines today?” he asked. “You wouldn’t normally do this.”
“You’ve already guessed,” Naily said, turning her face away to exclude Kalsas from her field of vision.
Kalsas lifted her chin, looking into her eyes. “It’s one thing to have a guess, another for you to say it out loud.”
Naily took a breath, glaring at him. “I needed to confirm whether you knew I became a hero, to probe the temple and… to see if you would be pleased to see my death.”
Kalsas’s gaze dimmed. “For this, you almost got yourself killed.”
Naily detected a tone of reproach in his words but avoided meeting his eyes, which she sensed held cold sarcasm or burning anger. She decided not to care.
Moreover, judging from Kalsas’s reaction, he was unaware of the additional conditions the system gave her as a hero; otherwise, he wouldn’t be so calm in reproaching her impulsiveness. In his eyes, death was still commonplace. Was his concern perhaps driven by possessiveness? Perhaps her dying so willfully was an unforgivable offense to him.
At the thought, Naily couldn’t help but want to laugh a little. She looked down at her toes and shook her head: “No matter how dangerous, it must be done.” Forcing a smile, she raised her head and mockingly counted on her fingers: “The facts have proven that the results are quite fruitful. I obtained the information I wanted and gained the respect and love of some people; even if you didn’t know before, now you know that I have become a hero.”
Her answer was silence.
The night quietly covered the evening glow with a gauzy curtain. In the dim room, only an oil lamp forgotten in the corner this morning was stubbornly emitting light. The warm lamplight fell on Kalsas’s features, making his face look like an ivory sculpture, beautiful yet lacking worldly atmosphere. However, he gazed at Naily with an inexplicable look, his eyebrows sad and compassionate; like a distant god statue on an altar, finally opening his eyes to look at someone struggling in pain, telling her with his gaze that he empathized.
For a moment, she even thought he might collapse and embrace her.
She gave a laugh that was almost a cry, emphasizing her words: “Please don’t look at me like that. I haven’t done anything that deserves your pity.”
With her words, the magical moment came to an end. Kalsas’s expression instantly retracted, returning to his shrine built of pride and power. He laughed with a slightly disdainful look, seeming nonchalant, applauding as if praising an excellent performance: “No, I should commend your boldness and strategy.”
He suddenly dropped his somewhat affected pose and moved closer: “As a reward, I might as well tell you that the Demon King’s power is related to the distance from Shloss.”
Naily’s expression slightly changed. Kalsas laughed slyly: “Already moved? Want to strike early?”
He took her hand, placed it on his chest, slowly moved it to the heart’s position, and said word by word: “Just like before, tell me you love me, and then send the blade into my heart.”
Beneath the clothing was a familiar body temperature, the heartbeat unobstructedly reaching her palm.
Naily tried to break free from his control. Kalsas didn’t insist, letting her withdraw her hand, leisurely observing her expression, tilting his head: “Unfortunately, not just here, even in the extreme south of Vildya, I can easily kill you.”
He ambiguously fell silent, his finger blocking her slightly parted lips, sliding down and stopping at her neck.
