TBR CH212

“So,” Roland said with a gentle smile, “what were you two talking about earlier?”

He showed no restraint in entering the space, his gaze naturally falling upon “Nova” before them. Kriesmeier pressed a hand to his forehead, pondering how to make Roland understand his meaning.

Perhaps no further explanation was needed—the spirits’ whispers eagerly leaked the secret.

The next second, the Demon King heard Roland drawl in a feigned voice:

“My dear, you should have told me beforehand. Because not only am I better at this game than you, but I’m also very familiar with it.”

The human placed his hand on the table, looking towards the moon on the other side of the gambling table.

Rather than a moon, it was pure light capable of scorching retinas. Moonlight, like mercury, covered everything visible in the space, beautiful yet subtly dangerous. They deeply regretted that gamble from years ago. Although the consciousness born from the moon had no definite emotions or thoughts, they had still longed for the Archmage’s soul, which they failed to devour years ago.

“…However, the Demon King’s heart is indeed a good bargaining chip.”

Roland’s expression grew cold, the smile in his eyes fading. “Such an interesting gamble, even I can’t help but want to intervene, Kris. Do you mind if I also put my soul on the line, adding to our wager?”

The moment his words fell, the light before him intensified.

“Yes, Roland,” countless voices converged in his ear. “Yes, otherwise, Demon King, regret, stop.”

Kriesmeier glared at the human with a warning gaze. It clearly had no effect; with the moon’s support, Roland smiled at him, a silent persistence in his gaze. After a few seconds of standoff, the Demon King averted his eyes.

“As you wish,” he said coldly.

The winning side would claim everything the other had promised. The original odds were fifty-fifty, but since the stakes had changed, the entity willing to make the trade altered the rules for them, granting more favorable treatment. The bait thrown by the human gave them a greater probability of winning, though the outcome remained uncertain.

The interrupted gamble then resumed.

Under the constraints of natural law, the human and the Demon King pricked their fingertips, solidifying their oath with their blood.

The cold radiance swallowed their blood, then began to spin endlessly on the gambling table before them, turning and turning, as if to thoroughly mix the blood and moonlight, to see what color they would become when they finally stopped.

Blood mingled with the pure light, like crimson threads.

Roland looked up at Kriesmeier.

“Don’t look so grim,” he said. “Kris, you should smile more. Guess which color will prevail when the vortex finally stops?”

“If it’s not blood red, you’re in big trouble,” Kriesmeier wasn’t amused by his jest. The Demon King’s gaze was fixed unblinkingly on the gambling table before them, its color changing every second. “You don’t seem worried about your soul at all.”

Roland blinked: “If I’d been a moment later, you would have ripped out your heart. Even I didn’t have the heart to do that back then. I think we’re even on that point… Ah, the result’s about to come out. My dear, look.”

It was like rolling a die; no matter how unpredictable its spin, it would eventually stop.

Before them, the shimmering light gradually stabilized its form. Either the moonlight would completely purify the blood, or the blood would thoroughly dye the moonlight. The last bit of color slowly faded, and before the Demon King, the human, and the moon, the final color that remained was—

Pure and gentle silver.

The color of moonlight.

The winner on the other side of the table instantly erupted, barely containing their joy at the fruits of success.

The entire space groaned under the intense light, walls melting bit by bit, erupting in a scorching incandescence, eager to immediately seize everything from the losers, who, either too foolish or too greedy, had wagered everything.

A wisp of light shot out first, heading directly towards Roland. Kriesmeier abruptly grabbed the human’s wrist, pulling him towards himself, his pupils turning cold and vertical:

“I’d like to see who dares.”

The surrounding air instantly ignited, Roland thought wryly. When both your enemy and your teammate lack patience, a peaceful transaction can easily escalate into war. Kriesmeier had probably planned to break the contract from the start—it was truly baffling why the moon thought the Demon King was someone who would keep his promises.

“Wait, wait,” the human said, struggling to break free from the Demon King’s overly protective wings. “I truly don’t understand, do you two really have to fight? Especially you, Kriesmeier, you should have already noticed…”

His amber eyes blinked meaningfully.

Then, without hesitation, he extended his hand and pressed his palm onto the gambling table before them.

The gambling table glowed brightly, still holding the form of announcing the result, but when the human placed his hand on it, silver ripples seemed to spread from his palm. The wave-like ripples spread outwards in circles, slowly wrapping around the human’s fingertips. This sight silenced the Demon King as well, and the spirits born from the moon suddenly realized a problem.

They seemed unable to control the light at the Archmage’s fingertips.

Indeed, silvery-white light danced obediently at the human’s fingertips. Within the pure color, countless bright flashes could be faintly seen. This was not its power.

“These are my stars,” Roland sighed. “You people should be more careful.”

He naturally interjected a hint of reproach into his tone.

But the other two present clearly didn’t think it was their problem. This was a wager. If the human and the Demon King won, it would be the color of blood; if the moon won, the moonlight would purify everything. The two outcomes were clear, where did a third ending come from?

Unless—

“I never mentioned I’d be on Kris’s side,” Roland simply announced, as if everything was perfectly logical. “This isn’t a two-sided gamble, but a three-sided wager. Now, the outcome seems very clear. So, why do the two losers need to fight?”

Kriesmeier’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

The Demon King probably just wanted to fight, because the moon tried to make a move on him. Roland thought, as their powers spun on the gambling table just now, his beloved must have already sensed his intention.

If Roland had simply joined Kriesmeier’s faction, the probability of losing wasn’t small;

But with Roland joining as a third party, Kriesmeier, understanding, unconditionally transferred all his luck to him. With a loophole in a contract that never accounted for such a development, assuming he and Kris originally shared fifty percent of the fortune, and the moon also possessed fifty percent, then his current fortune was the sum of the human’s and the Demon King’s…

The probability of winning reached an astonishing one hundred percent.

“Cheating, liar, Roland, cheating, cheating!”

Only then did the moon realize it had been tricked, crying out.

The human bowed politely, completely unfazed. “Thank you for the compliment.”

Exploiting loopholes in rules was inherently permitted, especially when the gamble concerned the Demon King’s heart and his own soul. The other party was too greedy, leading them to overlook all this, so it wasn’t his fault to begin with.

Kriesmeier gazed at the human. Light enveloped him, coating his amber pupils with a thin silver sheen. The Archmage was actually a very flamboyant person. He possessed talent and had not wasted it in the slightest. Beneath a gentle and humble exterior, Roland had a heart as arrogant as his own.

The human noticed his gaze and readily took his hand.

His skin was warm.

“My dear,” he didn’t bother with the moon across from him, but smiled faintly. “May I remind you? The winner gets all the prizes. From that moment on, you have lost your heart to me.”

The phrasing was very ambiguous. Kriesmeier rarely felt the presence of his heart so strongly, but it now beat responsively to the human’s words, even seeming to burn.

The Demon King silently drew out his scythe made of white bone.

“I’m flirting with you,” the human muttered helplessly, leaning over and grabbing the hand holding the scythe. “I wasn’t really going to take your heart, please. Let’s not hurt each other by hurting ourselves anymore. Kris, I understand now, and I genuinely regret the mistakes I made before. At least give me a chance to prove it.”

The Demon King almost thought he was going to kiss him, but he just tilted his head, revealing his pale earlobe and the feather dangling from it with his movements, burying his head in the Demon King’s shoulder.

The black feather looked both sharp and soft, making Kriesmeier’s throat inexplicably dry.

The human’s mood had been good just now, but suddenly it dropped.

A muffled voice came from the Demon King’s shoulder:

“I was really scared just now, about what would happen if I came a step too late.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kriesmeier said. “And besides, it’s just a heart—”

He wanted to say a few harsh words, at least bring up old grievances again. Compared to the human’s rib, a heart wasn’t special. Besides, even if the other party was fully confident, he shouldn’t easily wager his soul.

But the next second, Roland bit his shoulder. It didn’t even hurt the Demon King, yet he abruptly stopped speaking.

After a moment, he awkwardly stroked the soft hair of the human leaning on his shoulder.

The Archmage had been confined by him for a long time. The moment he regained his freedom, he frantically broke through all obstacles, desperately rushing to his side. A single feather didn’t possess such powerful magic. He was consumed with worry; the lingering shock was visible in those amber eyes. He felt regret, and now, fear.

The Demon King felt a damp burning sensation on his shoulder.

What was that?

“Roland,” Kriesmeier carefully pieced together his words, but soon it turned into a Demon King-esque monologue. “But I still hope, and I understand now that I desire to give you my heart. Can you hear it? It’s beating incredibly fast right now. This might be a common affliction of our race, but I can’t imagine a better gift than a bleeding heart, nor a better thing than giving it to you. I hope it becomes your power. This is my solemn promise.”

“I can find more suitable materials.”

“Would you want me to dismantle ‘Demonic Eye’ and return your rib?”

Roland fell silent. Kriesmeier added the most crucial piece of the puzzle:

“I won’t suffer any substantial harm; the heart is merely entrusted to you for safekeeping. After all, you didn’t just win against me, you also won against the moon.”

Finally called out, the surrounding voices grew even louder.

The moon spirits were about to lose patience with the oblivious human and Demon King.

Its room wasn’t created for romance, especially—they now finally realized what the Archmage’s ominous breaking through the wall signified—these two together would clearly only bring them great misfortune.

“Enough, end it, quarrel,” the voices wished they could drill into both their ears. “We, Roland, help, resolve! End! Leave!”

Roland slowly raised his eyes.

The intense emotions had faded, and those eyes were as bright as stars.

“Almost forgot,” he asked slowly, “tell me, what kind of solutions do you have?”

When the gentle light of a new day’s dawn touched the earth, the human and the Demon King finally emerged from that moonlit dimension, stepping onto the sky above the Demon King’s City, overlooking the incredible city at the edge of the Abyss.

Roland likely nervously touched Kriesmeier’s wings, or his forehead, or his damaged horn every few seconds.

Until the Demon King, unable to tolerate it any longer, grabbed the Archmage’s restless hands, stopping him from inspecting his body for abnormalities with such concern. After all, a demon’s horns were very sensitive.

“You’re not uncomfortable, are you?”

The human, though unable to move, had not yet been silenced.

This was truly hopeless.

The Demon King’s dark golden pupils rolled in his eye sockets, pinpointing “Nova” in the Archmage’s other hand. The brightest time of day in the Demon King’s City was sunrise; sunlight could still angle in from distant, cloudless areas, unobstructed by the sulfur and smoke at the top of the Abyss.

At this moment, brilliant light shimmered on the brand new gem.

This newly acquired spellcasting material, now belonging to the Archmage, displayed a starlike golden radiance. Compared to the original Essence of the Moon, its color was even brighter, and the power of light shone vividly through this gem.

But when the gem was rotated, it would flow with a subtle crimson, like pigeon’s blood, faintly visible against the sun-dappled golden edge.

These two starkly contrasting hues unexpectedly coexisted harmoniously.

Bright and solemn, deep and dazzling.

“I don’t feel any different,” Kriesmeier vowed this was the last time he would properly answer this question. “And besides, I was already stronger than before. ‘Demonic Eye’ is an important source of magic for me, and your rib had already made it complete.”

The Demon King flapped his massive wings, surging forward a few steps, raising a black hurricane. After aptly expressing his displeasure, he raised his dark golden eyes and turned to look at the human, waiting for him to walk to his side.

“Then what about you?”

“Me?”

“Has your power fully recovered?”

“My dear,” Roland was merely human. He hadn’t grown wings, yet walked through the air as effortlessly as an after-dinner stroll. “I would say the same thing as you… though I’m still a little worried about you. But personally, I think I’m even better than before. I originally thought we’d both suffer some damage.”

“I haven’t asked you how you left the demon palace yet.”

Roland suddenly stopped.

They stood in the place where Roland had been confined for a long time. Although the person who was imprisoned didn’t think it was a big deal and didn’t mind going back and staying within the Demon King’s jurisdiction now, he suddenly remembered what he had done to leave the cage, then awkwardly rubbed the tip of his nose.

“Kris, I suddenly feel—”

The ruler of the Demon Realm looked at him, confused.

“I mean, when I left this place, I caused a little damage to the demon palace’s property.”

This was a softer way of putting it.

“Meaning we might have to find somewhere else to spend the night,” Roland blinked. “Otherwise, we’ll waste our hard-earned full day of date time on house repairs.”

The human naturally counted everything that had just happened as part of their date.

After all, they were holding hands, openly staring at each other from time to time, and treating each other like fragile glass. What else could it be but a couple’s date?

If the lord in charge of this matter in the Demon Realm heard Roland’s words just now, he would surely burst into tears.

“Come here,” Kriesmeier’s voice was a little hoarse, like low string music. Roland quickened his steps, catching up to the Demon King who was a step ahead. An alien desire intensely throbbed in the demon’s heart. This time, the Demon King, in turn, clutched his wrist, the grip light, feeling his heartbeat, appearing somewhat ambiguous.

“Hmm?” Roland’s tone held a hint of question, but soon turned to concern: “Kris, is your hand a little cold? Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?”

The Demon King closed his eyes, then reopened them. His dark golden pupils, like those of an arrogant beast, stood upright, appearing majestic and honorable under the sunlight. And they had solemnly locked onto his prey:

“…Fight me.”

Generally speaking, mentioning a date would not bring to mind combat, nor would it conjure images of life-and-death clashes and the sensation of blades pressed against each other’s throats.

But Kriesmeier didn’t even wait for the human to agree.

Black flames ignited on the scythe. Roland saw Kriesmeier’s long, pale fingers resting on the snowy white rib. As he swung the weapon horizontally, destructive flames, even from a distance, seemed to burn a person to the bone.

Kriesmeier stood beneath the sky, his vast, fallen-angel-like wings spread out, like poisonous needles, like blades, like a sky full of arrows.

The human felt his heart skip another beat.

His Kriesmeier was incredibly beautiful, especially at times like this.

“Use your full power,” Kriesmeier said coldly, then swooped down on him. The scythe tore from one side of the sky to the other, as if cutting through the accumulated clouds above the Demon King’s City. Cool-toned light slanted down, illuminating his waist-length silvery-gray hair.

Well.

The Demon King was right; this was the best way to confirm if the other was alright.

—And the most suitable method for them.

Roland’s thumb rotated the gem on the staff, which flowed with a fresh crimson hue, and for the first time in a long while, his fighting spirit was reignited.

He raised his eyes, and they were the eyes of a human savior, his amber pupils tainted with a genius’s arrogance.

He said: “You don’t need to remind me, my dear. You also need to be fully focused.”

The light at the Archmage’s fingertips glittered, instantly drawing forth a storm that filled the entire sky. Lightning streaked through the clouds, occasionally forming long, silver whip-like forms. Behind the sky-wide thunder, the stars shone solemnly.

With every step the Demon King took, his footsteps sounded like a trumpet of destruction.

And the human simply stood in a corner of the sky, as if he were just flying a kite.

Lightning blocked the scythe’s attack. The black flames were shattered into many pieces.

The Archmage’s heart was soft like a light feather, yet as bright and sharp as a blade. Under the Demon King’s assault, he maintained his standing posture, the starlight behind him his ardent supporters, just like Kriesmeier’s surging black flames. He manipulated lightning to weave around Kriesmeier, until it successfully grazed the Demon King’s skin.

Kriesmeier lowered his eyes, and blood dripped from his fingertips.

The scythe in his hand cast a crimson shadow behind him, then was melted by the silver light. When Roland raised his hand, he felt the wind behind him also swirl.

He touched his cheek, realizing that the light feather just now was not merely what it seemed.

The human casually wiped away the bloodstain on his cheek, saying jokingly:

“Kris, if you want to hurt me, you’ll have to try harder.”

“You too,” Kriesmeier retorted.

In the sky above the Demon King’s City, two incredible forces collided. This manifested as the sky turning cloudy then clear, clear then cloudy, as if putting on a face-changing performance. Starlight, unseen for many years, flickered in the gloomy sky, then swept across a corner of it.

Strange roars thundered endlessly, continuing until nightfall.

They hadn’t engaged in such a passionate and exhilarating battle in a long time, so much so that the pleasure derived from this fight surpassed both the human’s and the Demon King’s imagination.

Until Roland, grabbing the Demon King’s collar, stumbled back into the sea of flowers at the edge of the Abyss.

Fortunately, this sea of flowers was a miracle from the Abyss, unaffected by seasons and climate, and being behind the palace, it was luckily spared Roland’s destructive touch. The human’s breathing was ragged, yet he still pressed Kriesmeier to the ground. His pupils gleamed with bright, soft light. The “Nova” in his hand sparkled.

With his downward movement, the feather on his earlobe also dangled, swaying before Kriesmeier’s eyes.

“Do you remember when you pressed me down?” the human said casually. “It was just as beautiful here then, and you threw away my staff. But I had a knife back then, so neither of us truly won. See, now…”

Roland’s eyes lowered, looking at the scythe held at his throat for perhaps the umpteenth time.

“The situation is the same now,” Kriesmeier said.

Beneath their bodies, the crushed flower stems emitted a rich, sweet scent. Aside from the wounds they inflicted on each other, the crimson of the flower sap branded their skin. Roland dipped a finger in it and dabbed it on Kriesmeier’s brow.

“I’m relieved now,” he mused. “…I’m sure you’re fine.”

The Demon King endured the human’s doodling on his face, not expecting such a remark after so long. A flicker of annoyance instantly shone in his dark golden eyes. He fiercely pulled the human down and bit his lip.