TBR CH214.1: Extra

In recent years, public figures’ weddings have often sought to be low-key.

But Kriesmeier clearly had no such concept.

The Demon King’s requirements for the wedding were remarkably succinct: it had to be as grand as possible, known to the entire world.

That is to say, the two names on the wedding invitation had to be locked in the hearts of all guests, inscribed in every history book written from now on, leaving no doubt or fantasy about the belonging of the Archmage who had died and resurrected.

“Any other questions?” the Demon King asked indifferently.

The demon responsible for etiquette’s pupils constricted. He suppressed the trembling deep in his soul and said:

“It’s not difficult to realize the Sovereign’s vision, but it will require the cooperation of His Excellency Roland at that time. Moreover, Your Majesty’s requirements are slightly broad. If you want the wedding to be perfect… perhaps you should also ask His Excellency’s opinion.”

He cautiously probed.

Because even today, the third day since the news of the Demon King’s wedding spread like wildfire across the entire Mirar Continent, things had progressed to an irreversible point, yet he still hadn’t seen the mysterious Archmage Roland Xavier.

At this point, the demon faced the Demon King with trepidation, but countless conspiracy theories flashed in its mind.

It was said that the Archmage came to crusade against the Demon King back then, and there had been no news of him since. People once thought he had long been killed by the Demon King, but with the announcement of the wedding, people began to believe that the human had been imprisoned by the Demon King in the cold demon palace for decades.

Was the marriage to humiliate this unparalleled genius, or a contemptuous provocation against the entire continent?

Had His Excellency Roland been forced to agree to the marriage?

The demon’s etiquette officer silently supported the conspiracy theories he had heard. Firstly, he had once had the privilege of seeing a collapsed corner of the demon palace, where various traces indicated the presence of a cage. Secondly, he had heard whispers of the human’s betrayal of His Majesty the Demon King. Their Sovereign possessed the good qualities valued by Abyss demons: gloomy paranoia, unpredictability, and a strong vengeful streak.

Finally, His Majesty the Demon King, upon hearing his tentative question, finally raised his dark golden eyes and stared at him menacingly, looking as if he didn’t think there was anything wrong with his arrangements.

Kriesmeier said in a low voice, “Those are irrelevant—”

The etiquette officer quickly prepared to make a swift exit, knowing when to gracefully retreat.

However, the Demon King’s voice suddenly paused.

At the brink of death, the etiquette officer’s damnable urge for gossip burned fiercely again. Abyss demons inherently prioritized the satisfaction of their desires. As he thought this, his gaze, which had been fixed on the ground, slowly shifted upwards.

First, he saw the chilling color of the the white bone throne, then the Demon King’s sharp wings.

Silver-gray strands of hair flowed like moonlight, one wisp hanging down his neck to his chest.

Then came the black cat that had caught Kriesmeier’s attention.

It was biting the Demon King’s hair.

The demon etiquette official felt his worldview shatter. He was instantly stunned to the point of numbness, staring wide-eyed as the Demon King took the black cat from his shoulder, skillfully tucked it into his embrace, his expression even showing helpless indulgence, and then stroked its fluffy tail.

But—but it had, just now, bitten, His Majesty the Demon King’s, hair.

The black cat meowed.

“Alright,” Kriesmeier said, “but don’t waste too much time.”

Just as the etiquette officer hadn’t quite realized who the Demon King was speaking to, the Demon King turned his gaze back to him. The black cat also turned its gaze to him. This cat must have been hiding in the Demon King’s wings just now, blending in with the light and mysterious darkness. Now, those amber round pupils sparkled before him. The etiquette officer felt that this black cat was acknowledging him.

So much so that the demon vaguely bowed to the black cat.

Kriesmeier continued his words: “To me, neither style nor detail matters. But since Roland feels it’s necessary, you will prepare according to his wishes.”

“R-Roland, Your Excellency?”

The Abyss demon swallowed, feeling his voice wasn’t his own.

And the black cat meowed happily, confirming.

No matter how absurd the Demon King’s wedding sounded, when the time came, the invited guests entered the Demon King’s City with uneasy hearts.

Most of them were high-ranking members of various races, exchanging knowing glances with diplomatic intentions.

Some races had already reached a consensus; their armies were already assembled at a certain crossroads, ready to act immediately if the situation turned sour. Of course, they, more than anyone, did not want to confront an enemy like Kriesmeier, but the current situation was too unique.

The guests stepped into the venue, first pausing slightly.

Thank goodness, thanks to Archmage Roland’s involvement, the wedding venue wasn’t too bad.

This meant the decorations weren’t like a large sacrificial site, and there were no skull or blood-themed embellishments—at least not that many—fragrant wine filled every crystal-clear goblet, and they even thoughtfully provided pomegranate juice for guests who didn’t drink alcohol.

The air was filled with exotic fragrances, and the guests couldn’t help but swallow, beginning to imagine the feast’s delicacies.

Traversing between the seats, serving dishes were hellcats, though strictly muzzled, so they wouldn’t steal food or eat the guests. The hellcats were entirely willing to perform this duty, mainly because all the dishes the Lord of Gluttony had tried to develop in the past few days had ended up in their stomachs.

Although Roland preferred to simply attribute the reason to “cats are good.”

The hellcats’ horns were adorned with rose decorations, making them blend in exceptionally well with their surroundings. Everywhere they moved was dotted with crimson roses, scarlet impatiens, and many other red-hued flowers.

The ground was covered with a soft, sweet layer of rose petals, crackling gently underfoot.

But the main area for the ceremony was not limited to the ground. Countless mahogany tables, draped with heavy black velvet tablecloths, floated precariously in mid-air, connected by steps woven from silver threads.

The guests cautiously ascended the steps, and where their shoetips touched, strange silver ripples appeared. Guided by the hellcats, they found their seats in order. Some daring guests even reached out and touched the cat’s ears. The wedding venue was large enough to accommodate all representatives from various races, as well as all eligible guests who had heard the news and come to attend the wedding.

Tonight, even the sky above the Demon King’s City was resplendent.

The smell of sulfur and gunpowder was almost imperceptible. Although the underlying color of the night sky remained pitch black, countless stars formed a dazzling sea of stars, casting a silver light on every guest’s table.

This light was so bright that there was actually no need for elaborately crafted silver candelabras.

And no need for the moon—the moon originally wasn’t planning to attend, and in a place with too many stars, it could easily be obscured.

But at Roland’s invitation, it finally came reluctantly. The moon served as a unique ornament, shimmering with an unusual dark red, like a beautifully colored gemstone.

Elegant and solemn string music slowly began.

It was as if the strings of fate were plucked, and the music possessed the power to bring tears. Looking around, the musicians playing among the crowd had light-colored eyes and pointed ears.

Elves.

This was a race that had always been proud and reclusive, possessing extremely high artistic talent. They had always been unyielding, unbowed by power, and almost never left their elven forest. How did Demon King Kriesmeier manage to invite them to be responsible for the wedding’s music?

The guests were utterly bewildered.

Little did they know, in a certain corner, the Elven Queen’s pure white skirt billowed, and she hurried towards two other figures, not even having time to steady her crown.

Eve had long since succeeded to the throne as Queen.

The once youthful princess had matured considerably, becoming a capable ruler in her own right.

Because she had almost no opportunity to leave the Elven Forest, she spent most of her time corresponding with friends from the outside world. Taking this opportunity to finally meet, her steps were suddenly as light and joyous as they had been at sixteen.

“Eve!”

Hilda jumped, almost dropping what was in her hand.

The Knight-Captain leaning against the wall wasn’t as boisterous as them. She simply turned around gracefully and handsomely, her silver armor revealing a face with fine lines already forming around her eyes. She smiled calmly and performed a knight’s bow to Eve.

At this moment, the purple-haired witch steadied the object in her hand—a strange small box—and held it up to her eyes, pressing a button on it.

A click sounded in the air. Eve stiffened for a moment, thinking it was some kind of trap, but nothing happened.

“What is this?” Eve couldn’t help but ask, then leaned closer to look at what was in Hilda’s hand, startled. “I’ve never seen a memory orb like this.”

“Because this isn’t a memory orb,” Hilda said, demonstrating by turning the mechanical box in her hand. “This is a camera. Uh, I won’t explain the specific principles, but Master wants me to record the wedding for them. Oh my, I have no experience with this, so I had to watch hundreds of hours of lessons in a hurry, but I’m still not confident.”

She was so anxious she seemed on the verge of taking a rigorous magic test.

“It’s fine,” the Knight-Captain said, though not the oldest, her wisdom matured with her appearance. She joked to the witch, “Regardless, you are the most proficient person in the world at using a camera.”

Her comfort clearly had no effect; Hilda still looked worried.

However, the witch still embraced her distant guests with immense warmth, accompanied by “I can’t believe you came,” and many other screams. The witch fiddled with the camera, and an image of Eve running towards them, her hair flying in the air, was already saved in the album. She suddenly had an idea.

“Wait, we should take a group photo no matter what.”

Hilda said. She started looking left and right. “I just saw Anna too, where is she—”

Perhaps it was a telepathic connection, as soon as Hilda’s words fell, the brown-haired apprentice witch suddenly appeared in their sight.

However, upon seeing her appearance, Hilda immediately forgot about taking photos.

Anna looked more nervous than ever, her face pale, until she saw the group of people slacking off and chatting in the corner, and then she suddenly showed a hint of relief.

She tightly pursed her lips and hurried to Hilda, looking as if she was about to announce some very bad news.

“The Archmage’s Tower…” she said, then took a deep breath. “The other apprentices.”

“What trouble have they caused again?” Hilda immediately understood her meaning and pressed her temples. To be honest, this did not surprise the witch at all.

But the witch still underestimated the other apprentices’ determination to cause a big sensation.

Anna desperately shook her head, then announced in despair:

“Miss Hilda, they’ve decided to kidnap the groom.”

The purple-haired witch paused, freezing like a statue, even forgetting to remove her hand from her temples. She mechanically turned her head, then slowly asked, “Do you mean what I think you mean?”

“Exactly,” Anna said with a heavy heart.

The communication within the Mage Tower was too mysterious for the two nearby to interject for a while. However, seeing Hilda’s expression, they knew that things were definitely worse than they imagined. The witch secretly cursed, thinking that it was not without reason that she became the chief of the Mage Association at such a young age.

Look at what her classmates were doing, still at an age where they would childishly cry and beg their mentor not to leave them—

Most importantly, ignorance was bliss, lacking concept of what the name Kriesmeier signified.

“Can we help?” the Knight-Captain and the Elven Princess asked simultaneously.

“Yes, of course,” Hilda said, quickly hanging the camera around her neck, then about to rush out. “It would be great if you could follow. I just hope I can get there in time to collect the bodies of those idiots!”