TBR CH210

A few days later, the Demon Realm’s scouts brought the latest news from the Kingdom.

The Hero’s matter caused a huge stir. It was said he had changed overnight, becoming ugly and short, and his words and actions were repulsive, leading people to suspect he had been cursed.

His power and charm had vanished, and he had made a series of astonishing statements.

Worst of all, investigations revealed he was indeed the Hero himself.

Disappointment and mockery overwhelmed him, making it impossible for him to stay in the Kingdom. The Kingdom was now considering re-examining his detrimental influence in the princess’s disappearance, and Debbie was no longer timid. The Mage Tower, the Knight Order, the Kingdom’s nobles, and the distant Elven Forest all submitted testimonies.

For the Hero, the only good thing, and indeed the only solution, was probably for him to completely vanish before his trial, disappearing without a trace.

Meanwhile, the witch Hilda was writing in her diary with a fountain pen.

Thanks to Roland, the world consciousness was happy to help its friends. Hilda parachuted in as a mysterious half-blood exchange student, dispelling all suspicion, successfully returning to campus at an advanced age, and embarking on a new path of study. She planned to spend decades systematically learning scientific theories. For a witch, the one thing she never lacked was time.

Of course, she made time to meet the legendary Child of Fortune.

To be honest, Bai Shi’s true appearance even disappointed the witch.

Greasy bangs, a body bloated from junk food, and eyes filled with self-admiration and cynical resentment. The glorious qualities that had been bestowed upon him through the screen flaked off like dried paint.

Having lost his game account and the fantasies of his latter half of life, Bai Shi appeared particularly dejected, even somewhat self-abandoned.

He began to doubt that everything he had experienced was merely a fanciful dream, but the more beautiful the dream, the crueler the reality. He started spending a lot of time wandering outside, attempting to do “more valuable things.”

The young man squatted in the hazy shadow of a street corner, looking up to see the bustling pedestrian overpass.

He raised his camera once more.

“What are you taking pictures of?”

Bai Shi was startled by the voice. He quickly turned off his phone screen, muttering something defensively. But when he looked up, he met a pair of eyes he would never forget, even if he turned to ash. He almost sprang up, pointing at the casually dressed witch, dumbfounded:

“You… aren’t you that old witch from the Mirar Continent—those things were real! The system never responded to me again… It did promise me—”

As he was still in a daze, his phone somehow appeared in the witch’s hand.

Hilda gave her familiar and dangerous smile. Bai Shi couldn’t help but step back, suddenly feeling an irrational worry, fearing that in the bustling street, the other party would suddenly and mercilessly pull out a staff and harvest his life.

He was very sure the witch had wanted to do this for a long time.

In fact, he was equally sure the witch actually did it. A fierce headache came over him, as if he had been slapped, making him double over for a moment.

But when he managed to recover, he saw Hilda still standing a few steps away from him, merely holding up the unlocked phone. The screen displayed his phone’s photo album, densely packed with candid photos.

“Don’t kill me.”

Bai Shi couldn’t help but feel a surge of panic. In the Mirar Continent, the strong reigned supreme, and he now suddenly realized what that meant. If the worlds merged, rules would cease to exist. “Please, don’t—”

“Why would I kill you?” the witch seemed genuinely bewildered.

Bai Shi should have sighed in relief, but he subconsciously knew things wouldn’t be that simple. Sure enough, Hilda’s lips parted, her voice laced with a cold chuckle that tightly gripped the young man’s heart:

“Human and material evidence are all here. Come with me to the police station. I’ll fulfill your wish for fame.”

All the commotion had nothing to do with the human in the Demon King’s City.

“Ignorant people are the happiest people in this world.”

If that theory truly held, Roland Xavier felt he could hardly be happier than he was now.

He was in the most airtight cage in this world, oblivious to any outside news, and had nothing to worry about. Thanks to past experience, the Demon King knew well how to keep a human.

But Abyss demons might still be unable to cope with human cunning.

Roland gently opened his amber eyes; it wasn’t yet dawn.

Or rather, Kriesmeier’s treasure chamber had no concept of dawn. Hundreds of silver candles would brighten and dim at the Demon King’s whim, and scattered luminous pearls throughout emitted an eternal, soft glow. Everything he saw now was bathed in this dim light, leaving only blurred contours.

The human squinted, barely making out the scattered books around him.

The Demon King initially didn’t allow him to bring any dangerous items, which, of course, included books. Books were a weapon for the Archmage.

However, sensing that Roland sometimes felt utterly bored, and seeing that the human consistently showed great cooperation, Kriesmeier eventually permitted his subordinate lords to create an absolutely safe and harmless booklist. This batch of books had just arrived at the human’s “residence” yesterday.

Now… well, unfortunately, it was a mess.

Roland tried to gently extract his fingers from the culprit’s pile of feathers; his fingertips had gone numb.

But changing his perspective, he was also pressing on the Demon King’s silvery-gray hair, and the other party had not yet awakened, falling into a defenseless sleep beside him. As if sensing the human’s gaze, his eyelids twitched slightly.

When his wings rose, the human thought he had awakened.

But Kriesmeier merely groggily unfurled his wings. When those black feathers touched the cage bars, they were all blocked. The Demon King grumbled discontentedly in his dream, even wrapping himself more tightly around the human.

Abyss demons were poikilothermic animals—the Archmage’s mind briefly wandered—at least now, the other party’s body wasn’t cold. The fluffy feathers formed a warm and light blanket, even more comfortable than the priceless crimson carpet woven from red gold that the Demon King had collected and laid in the cage. Roland’s wrist and ankle chains were also warmed to body temperature.

It really was like a crow building a nest.

Since it had come to this, Roland simply abandoned the idea of breaking free. He merely sat up slightly, examining Kriesmeier’s appearance.

The Creator had bestowed upon Abyss demons a striking appearance, even by conventional standards.

However, most people would be deterred by their terrifying power and disdainful gaze before even considering this aspect. Facing a being thousands of times stronger than oneself, who viewed them as mere ants, being called a monster to be avoided was already a kindness. No one dared to stare at the Demon King’s face up close, and thus, only the Archmage had the opportunity to praise his beauty.

Truly beautiful.

And he belonged to him.

The Archmage’s thoughts shifted repeatedly, finally settling into a peculiar delight. The human lowered his eyes; his hair had long since faded in color due to magical fluctuations, now growing platinum blonde and somewhat long, falling softly to touch the Demon King’s lips before he kissed him.

Kriesmeier suddenly opened his eyes.

Beastly eyes gleamed dimly and dangerously in the darkness, quickly tinged with a hint of bewilderment, but he did not stop the human’s movements. He simply let Roland press against the soft feathers around his waist, giving him a warm and lingering good morning kiss.

Only then did His Majesty the Demon King slowly begin to recall what had happened last night.

—That is, the specific reason why he, the master of the cage, was now inside the cage prepared for the human.

The Demon King’s expression changed repeatedly, while Roland continued to smile at him, analyzing his every thought.

First, sending the books, attempting to dilute the “gift” attribute of the books with an assertive gesture;

Secondly, failing to successfully refuse the human’s request for thanks due to the “gift,” Roland’s wrist grabbed through the shadows of the bars.

And then…

“Are you really just going to watch from outside?”

When the human’s voice rang out, His Majesty the Demon King only then realized he had been staring unblinkingly at Roland through the cage bars, scrutinizing him from head to toe.

His light golden hair made him look truly like a sparkling treasure. His amber eyes seemed a little sleepy, but when he turned his head, the smile on his lips couldn’t be concealed.

Roland reached out through the gap. Kriesmeier should have taken a step back, but he didn’t.

Then, he could have coldly knocked that hand away, but he also missed that opportunity.

“I won’t let you leave.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to leave,” Roland tilted his head somewhat innocently. “I just thought the space here is quite large, and it would be a bit too empty for me to stay in alone—”

And then, His Majesty the Demon King also stepped into the cage he had meticulously crafted.

The demon’s pupils constricted slightly, as if recalling the sound of the lock falling to the ground at that time.

Something must have gone wrong. The door locked behind him. Roland’s pupils flickered with amusement like candlelight, as if foreshadowing his willing entry into the trap. Kriesmeier reached out and pulled the chain that bound the human, but even as the human gasped for breath due to lack of oxygen, he still fearlessly leaned in.

“What exactly do you want?” Kriesmeier asked.

“You’ve gotten your wish,” Roland replied. “Why are you still afraid to do anything?”

The remaining memories, even for Kriesmeier, were only fragmented bits, the rest replaced by satiation and pleasure. But within this, there was also a lingering sense of unwillingness, firmly controlled by the human, only now resurfacing.

When the demon pounced like a true beast, with only primal desire left in his mind, his fingertips moved further, ready to literally crush the human’s wrist along the chain.

“Kris, be gentle,” but as if by suggestion, the human’s eyes still flickered with a knowing smile, his voice soft and quick, “My dear, I’m very fragile right now, do you understand? One of your feathers could kill me.”

Kriesmeier’s tensed knuckles instinctively loosened.

The Demon King’s pause was a major strategic error, because he was immediately kissed by the Archmage, and a warm, soul-trembling sensation spread from his fingertips.

“Be very careful,” Roland said.

The Demon King’s wings behind him stirred restlessly, and in the next second, the human began to smooth his feathers upwards, little by little, along his most sensitive lumbar spine. He almost severed the human’s throat with his blade-like feathers right then and there.

Roland paused, then said enticingly, “Just like that.”

Kriesmeier had to divide his consciousness to control himself not to hurt the human.

But the other party, far from caring that he was almost killed, had no sense of self-preservation and didn’t stop his movements for a moment.

The fragile human’s wrists and ankles were still wrapped in shackles. The silver shackles clinked crisply when they touched each other, climbing onto the Demon King’s skin like snakes.

The arrogant Demon King didn’t even react before his lifeline was seized by the human he had caged.

Yet, the other party, having gained the upper hand, still played coy, leaning in to kiss his ear. The tingling sensation made the Demon King’s heart tremble simultaneously. It was strange; even without any power, the human still had him completely wrapped around his finger.

Whenever he felt unable to resist the urge to reach out and stop it, he would see those amber pupils.

A pair of pure amber pupils that reflected only him.

“Don’t move around carelessly,” Roland pressed down on the Demon King’s wrist. It was a little cold, but it should warm up soon. “As Your Majesty wished, I am now utterly powerless, as fragile as glass, and your power is unfathomable. My dear, if you wish to continue, you should learn to restrain yourself and your actions.”

“Taking advantage of the situation,” Kriesmeier said in a low, hoarse voice.

“Kris,” Roland corrected, folding his hand behind him, “I am the human, and the one in danger.”

The Demon King vaguely felt the human was spouting some twisted logic, but he could no longer think straight. He simply glared at Roland with his dark golden eyes one last time, then decided to go along with his reckless behavior. The Demon King’s silvery-gray long hair was spread out in the cage, like floating silvery-white candlelight. After all, he was never as smart as a human.

And, no matter what, he was indeed very… pleased.

At this thought, even the master of the Demon King’s City felt his ear tips redden slightly.

He remembered how, after their night, he had squinted in satiation and then, pulling Roland close, had fallen into a deep slumber, even forgetting to leave the cage he had built for the other.

In his dream, he had uncontrollably spread his wings, wrapping the human tightly, which was why the other was only now extracting his numb fingertips.

“Cold?”

Poor circulation made his fingertips cold. Roland touched Kriesmeier’s lips.

Kriesmeier restrained the urge to bite this lure with his sharp teeth and lick it little by little. He reached out and clasped the human’s fingertips, feeling them gradually regain warmth.

Roland smiled at him and said, “I’ll tidy up in a bit, then I can start reading.”

The human’s words brought the Demon King back to reality and a hint of gloom returned to his dark golden eyes.

“Do you know how long I’ve kept you here?” he warned coldly. “I don’t believe that being confined here day and night, you truly have no desire to escape. Roland, but even if you try your tricks, like last night, you still won’t be able to unlock the shackles on your wrists, let alone leave this place.”

“While judging time is indeed difficult,” Roland slowly blinked, “I’d love to cooperate. But it should be 8:15 AM now, and the Full Moon Festival is in two days. I mean, my biological clock is quite accurate, so I wouldn’t easily mistake the time…”

“You don’t have to point that out.”

“Then you don’t have to worry about me,” the human’s amber eyes were focused ahead, as if he truly could be trusted. “Anyway, I don’t plan to leave here, and I certainly don’t plan to leave you. My dear, you just wait and see.”

Kriesmeier paused for a moment, then let out a soft sneer:

“Archmage, you speak in such a tone as if you were still the master of ‘Nova’ and still my equal.”

The Demon King knew he shouldn’t bring that up, just as humans wouldn’t suddenly poke at each other’s wounds while being affectionate or professing love. After all, he was the one who imprisoned Roland, and he was the one who stripped him of his magic.

The Archmage losing “Nova” didn’t necessarily mean he was utterly defenseless. In fact, even with an ordinary staff, Roland could unleash astonishing power—as long as he wasn’t trapped in a cage.

Moreover, one of the human’s ribs was still embedded in his scythe.

“Wasn’t it my willing choice?” the human had long mastered the art of flattering His Majesty the Demon King in every sentence. “Kris, because you are more important than all of these.”

When those words fell, Kriesmeier fell into a brief silence. He looked into Roland’s eyes. The human had a pair of bright, star-like amber eyes that shimmered when he smiled at him. He always gazed this way, whether summoning starlight sweeping in from the horizon with “Nova,” or extracting his own rib from his chest, where fresh flesh and blood flowed.

“Back then,” Kriesmeier said softly, “you thought the same.”

Roland was baffled by this unclear “back then” for less than a second, then quickly realized what the Demon King was referring to. This was probably a major manifestation of a guilty conscience.

—That thing you hid from me.

—That thing you tricked me about.

—That thing you made me forget, against my will.

Predecessors had already summarized the experience: bringing up old grievances comes later, but that doesn’t mean it will never happen.

The moment the Demon King uttered that sentence, the surrounding atmosphere suddenly turned bone-chilling. Those dark golden vertical pupils looked at the human with immense pressure, yet also seemed to have no intention of listening to any explanation. He slowly stood up, rubbing “Demonic Eye” that had suddenly appeared in his palm. The snowy white rib again made the human’s chest burn.

“I’m sorry,” Roland said. “I did think that.”

“But not regret?”

“…” The human said nothing.

Kriesmeier, instead, gave another contemptuous smile. “Since you know the correct answer for me, you should lie. After all, you’ve always been a habitual liar.”

“Except for that one time,” Roland said softly. “I have never intentionally deceived you again.”

He spoke in such a tone, with lowered eyes, that for some reason, it reminded the Demon King of the black cat.

The black cat was the Archmage’s temporary avatar. The Demon King had always been uninterested in other creatures; this fluffy creature could approach him purely because of Roland. But now the human was simply like a black cat with drooping ears and a tail tightly pressed to the ground.

The Demon King heard his own cold sigh for the first time.

This action was somewhat similar to a human’s.

He knew the extent of the Archmage’s unyieldingness in certain situations, although… he had other things to do soon, so he temporarily didn’t have time to argue with the human about who was right or wrong.

They both found it difficult to convince each other, but he would ultimately make the other understand.

Kriesmeier was an Abyss Demon; he had learned that whether it was love or hate, the incredibly strong emotions intertwined, all originated from the human.

However, making Roland suffer a setback was still achievable.

“Incorrect,” Kriesmeier said.

The human looked up, somewhat astonished, waiting for the Demon King’s next words. And the Demon King indeed spoke, solemnly and coldly: “You have an unfulfilled promise, a place where you were dishonest with me.”

“How is that possible?” Roland blurted out, then quickly stopped himself. “What is it?”

“That registration form.”

From the reaction, the human was truly bewildered this time and seemed very eager to explain something, but his tongue tied up as the words came out.

Roland muttered after a moment, “Regis…tration form?”

“Roland Xavier,” Kriesmeier’s pupils dangerously narrowed, his dark golden eyes dim. “I don’t think you’re so forgetful as to forget what you filled out. Special skill: forming a heart shape with your tail. Hmm? Where’s your tail?”

When Kriesmeier left the treasure chamber, his footsteps echoed coldly on the obsidian floor.

He held a black book in his hand.

In fact, this was the first time the Demon King had seen the Black Book’s true form, as the world consciousness had temporarily lost control of Mirar Continent. Just now, this book tried to blend in among the many books he had left for the human, secretly attempting to contact Roland.

However, they clearly hadn’t coordinated, because Roland directly pulled it out, then brazenly opened it in front of Kriesmeier.

This meant the book could only exchange polite pleasantries like “everything went smoothly” and “thank you all” in front of the human before the Demon King decided to confiscate it on the grounds of not receiving outside visitors.

With Roland’s unanimous approval, Kriesmeier now carried the book out of the treasure chamber. His dark golden eyes warned the cover.

“I don’t want you to seek him out again,” the Demon King said in a cold, reserved tone, walking through the gloomy corridor, “whether or not you intend to tip him off.”

It sounded like a threat.

He pushed open a door in the opposite direction from where Roland’s storage room was.

The human probably thought his “something important” referred to some presumptuous lord coming to report in the Demon King’s City, but there had been no power shifts in the Demon King’s City recently.

Especially Lord Lust, who, after tasting success, had considered sending more people. The consequence of that was that this lord, even if he were to be swallowed alive, could no longer bother Kriesmeier.

The door opened, and Kriesmeier stepped into the demon palace’s hidden room.

The staff “Nova,” embedded with the shattered “Essence of the Moon,” lay quietly on the obsidian table in the center of the room.

The imprisoned Archmage would no longer have a chance to use it—or so it should have been.

However, someone was still making tireless efforts to repair it, leaving traces behind. Around the Archmage’s shattered staff were scattered precious, discarded magical materials. Although the Demon King’s power was immense, he was not a magical genius, and these attempts could only keep “Nova” from turning to dust in a short time.

The Demon King thought: to reverse a predetermined fact, it would require more effort.