TBR CH178

Before meeting the Demon King, Archmage Roland of the Star Tower believed himself to be pure, emotionally stable, devoted to academia, possessing the normal human moral bottom line, and utterly devoid of any inclination to dedicate himself to danger and chaos.

The Western Church conferred the title of “Saint” upon his name after his death, which speaks volumes.

The Archmage would spend two months each year reinforcing the monster barriers in various regions of the Mirar Continent. He continuously invented Star Magic with various properties and sought suitable experimental materials for them. On average, each month, Roland would discreetly and efficiently dismantle at least three strongholds of evil forces.

Therefore, even upon learning that the Abyss demons had torn open the sealed gate, and that the new Demon King Kriesmeier possessed dark flames and a heart forged of black iron, the Western Church decisively abandoned waiting for the prophesied hero, whose whereabouts were unknown, and chose, as usual, to seek the help of Archmage Roland Xavier.

What happened next was known to everyone… No, the Mirar Continent was still completely unaware.

In front of the Demon King, danger was merely a trivial adjustment; restraining oneself from harming the other was the real challenge. Holding their breath, the inferno of admiration, capable of shattering them to dust, burned between them. Their ever-responsive Saint Roland suddenly realized that when facing a romantic partner like Kriesmeier, maintaining rationality was not only extremely difficult but entirely unnecessary.

One must know, he was not without a streak of madness.

“So, what are you going to do?”

The purple-haired witch Hilda sat gracefully in her chair, a large python wrapped around her neck like a dog, gently licking her face. She deliberately put on an icy facade, the curve of her profile taut.

“I told you to sober up—that white… the one with the strange name is far from the prophesied hero. He’s not even a thousandth of my mentor’s power! He does have something strange about him, though; it’s best not to get close if you can help it.”

“Hilda, I…”

The female knight looked up, a strand of golden hair falling across her forehead. She pursed her lips. “I’m not contradicting you, it’s just that things are too strange; I must personally confirm the situation. And Anna, she almost ran into the Starfall Forest alone yesterday. Forcing her to stay here isn’t a good idea, but letting her go see that person alone, I’m not at ease.”

Anna was the shy town girl.

The Mage Tower, to her, was a magnificent building she had never imagined in her life. She tiptoed cautiously across the carpet, fearing that her own dirt would displease the master here. She thought White Mingchen had finally agreed to bring her in, but she was unexpectedly pulled into a young lady’s tea party, and it took her half a day to understand the fact that the young hero had been attacked by the Demon King.

To Anna, the golden-haired hero shone like a light in her life.

Even though she felt the two days spent with the two in the Mage Tower were the happiest of her life. Although the purple-haired witch was unsmiling and her large snake was terrifying, everyone was unexpectedly gentle with her. Here, no one disliked her for being in the way, no one thought she was unpresentable, and she even got to touch magic she had previously found unimaginable—

But deep in her heart, there was always an irresistible force, constantly urging her to quickly return to the hero’s side.

Even after almost being injured by a demon beast, found bruised and battered by the female knight who had rushed to find her, Anna, filled with guilt, opened her mouth but realized that the faint whispers escaping her lips were gradually merging with the howling in her mind:

“I must go find him. He needs me, I… I love him deeply. I’m sorry, truly sorry…”

The python twisted its massive body with its master’s emotions, its huge head hissing out its forked tongue, its serpentine vertical pupils staring unblinkingly at the female knight before Hilda, while the witch herself also frowned deeply.

She stared silently at the knight for a few minutes, then shook her head:

“I’m truly afraid of you.”

The female knight showed a relieved expression. She knew what she was doing would be dangerous. When she had stayed with the golden-haired hero, she was just like Anna now, as if she had completely lost herself. Only looking back did she notice countless oddities. The witch truly cared about her and had even saved her life. She should have shown a little more gratitude, so at least she had to get the other party’s permission before acting.

But before she could relax, Hilda gave her a stern glare.

The witch’s purple hair shimmered before her, like the magnificent sunrise on the horizon at dawn. Hilda hugged the python and stood up, announcing:

“Alright. You can take Anna, but I’ll go with you.”

“But…”

“No refusing.”

Hilda said, “I’m going to pack. Where did you say that arrogant hero planned to go next, the Elf Forest. Why go to such a place? Elves don’t welcome outsiders. Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t think of such proper reasons? Well, I need to bring some potions to prevent magical insect bites.”

The other party was clearly being sarcastic about the hero. The female knight wisely kept her mouth shut.

She recalled White Mingchen’s tone when he spoke of the Elf Forest, mentioning the Elf Queen and Princess, and suddenly felt a little disgusted.

The black cat curled up in the Demon King’s arms, drowsily squinting its pupils, a sliver of bright amber showing.

Roland himself was sprawled at his computer desk, chatting idly with the Demon King. The black cat’s tail slowly swayed from left to right. The sky visible through the screen window changed from light blue to deep gray, then to a hazy mist. His hand had been off the keyboard for a long time, so the black cat was completely in standby mode, peacefully coexisting with the most ferocious Demon King in the game.

“Wow,” Roland slowly let out a little smile and said casually, “Actually, you and a black cat are a perfect match, Kries. Are you really not going to reconsider my previous suggestion about getting a cat?”

The tyrant of the Abyss was also in a relatively calm state at this moment.

Although the Demon King hadn’t retracted his wings, those sharp feathers were all gently and carefully folded to avoid hurting the cat sitting on his lap. He sat entirely on the throne, his massive wings taking up a large area, like a giant nesting bird, with the most precious treasure placed at the very center of the vast nest.

“I’m not used to being with other species,”

Kriesmeier said, then paused subtly.

“Not considering them as food… But, if you were truly here, could you also turn into a black cat? If so, I’d like to see it.”

He heard the black cat’s throat emit a purring, contented sound, and at the same time, Roland’s joyful laughter came through,

“Is that cheating? Although I do know advanced shapeshifting. No, even if you look at me with that expression, it’s a no-go. Really, no. But if you insist on asking…”

Kriesmeier had a pair of beautiful dark golden pupils, a fact Roland had always been well aware of.

Though besides him, no one else would use “beautiful” to describe those eyes brimming with arrogance, contempt, and violence.

The Archmage occasionally indulged in a bit of a collecting habit, such as gazing at the Demon King, who, due to their passionate relationship, became increasingly flawless in his eyes. Roland had cut off a bit of his hair as a research collection, and later quietly mixed in some of his own clipped hair. Although those hairs gradually faded after being cut, turning into a light gold before dyeing.

Only at such times did Roland find his light golden hair a little more pleasing to the eye.

Because intertwined with the Demon King’s silver-gray hair, it was like a wisp of moonlight mixed with stars.

Roland also collected feathers from Kriesmeier’s wings, meticulously taking samples of every kind, with a scholar’s rigor. The Demon King watched him with confusion but offered no objection. Dark golden pupils, of course, couldn’t be collected, but Roland had tried to use paints to record the magnificent and desolate hues they revealed on scratch paper. Additionally, Roland would kiss his eyes and his broken horn.

He loved to see the surge of counterattack and murderous desire in Kriesmeier’s eyes when his most vulnerable spots were kissed.

That intense color made him exceptionally captivating.

His thoughts wandered for a moment, but when Roland came back to his senses, he realized that when Kriesmeier looked at him with those dark golden pupils, imbued with a hint of pale desire, he was indeed very difficult to refuse.

Although transforming into a black cat was vastly different from his initial idea of raising a black cat, and even compared to the black cat in the game, it was quite dissimilar.

He still inexplicably agreed.

“Hmm,” Roland glanced at the clock. “I think it’s time we discussed our next steps. Just in case, I’ll try to bring out that black book—it’s really not dangerous, and it’s not an obstacle between us—I really loved what you said about tearing everything apart. Anyway, try to see if you can see it.”

Ever since Kriesmeier uttered those words about tearing all obstacles apart, the black book in the item bar trembled imperceptibly, then with increasing urgency, as if desperately trying to prove its innocence.

To the Demon King, the Way of Heaven was indeed not necessarily a good thing.

Roland double-clicked the black book icon, and its pages eagerly spread open on the screen. It was as if it were directly overlaid on the page, the snowy-white pages extending, ink drops seemingly sliding from a quill pen, leaving marks on the pages. The Archmage, who was in reality, slowly blinked, basically confirming that the Way of Heaven indeed could not integrate into the game world.

It currently looked like a rather abrupt patch parasitic on the game system.

Kriesmeier scrutinized the black book with a predator’s expression: “Your tail was originally coiled around ‘Nova,’ but now it’s a mass of broken radiance, without a clear form. This black book you speak of is such a thing, then perhaps, we can try…”

“Demon Eye,” like stark white fangs, appeared in Kriesmeier’s hand. Above the bone hilt was a terrifyingly sharp blade, heavy as Death’s footsteps.

The black book had prepared many words, but now it barely had time to type out two:

“Help me.”

“—Kries,”

Roland called the Demon King’s nickname cheerfully, while also manipulating the black cat to lightly leap from the Demon King’s knee onto his shoulder. “No need to be hostile so early. At least for now, it can be trusted. I need to find a way back to your side.”

The Demon King’s pale and slender fingers immediately stopped their movement.

Kriesmeier turned his eyes, his silver hair obscuring the trace of violence that had been in his eyes just now. The scythe had been lowered when Roland spoke to stop him. Then, maintaining his slightly tilted face, he first cradled the black cat from his shoulder. The Demon King’s expression was cold and solemn. When he held the black cat’s sides with both hands, the black cat let out a soft “meow” at him.

The Way of Heaven very tactfully minimized itself from full-screen to a less obstructive corner, though Roland had precisely executed commands even with the screen obscured.

Even the black book wasn’t sure how the amber-eyed youth managed it.

“Alright,” the Archmage of the Star Tower, as the undisputed communicator at this moment, took on the role of controlling the situation. He smiled slightly at the screen, a smile only the Way of Heaven could perceive. Kriesmeier remained oblivious, the Demon King holding the black cat on his throne, and the black book couldn’t comprehend the various logical behaviors of a villain.

Having Kriesmeier and any outsider—even a self-aware book—together was a test for both.

“I just want to talk about the plan,”

Roland’s calm voice came through the screen. “First, confirm the identity of the Child of Fortune in the real world. To do this, I must communicate with outsiders on the Mirar Continent. This is key to maintaining the stability of both worlds. Secondly, find a way for me to return to the Mirar Continent. In this regard, even the Way of Heaven is helpless.”

The black book shrank a little more.

“However,”

The black-haired saint soothed, the lights in the room were already on, their bright glow reflected in his eyes, “If we only look at the immediate situation, the next step is quite obvious.”

Neither the Demon King nor the black book discovered any obvious next step in the plan, which was hidden in a state of chaos.

Roland continued calmly:

“Kries, you’ll have to come with me to the Elf Forest.”

The Elf Forest, as its name suggests, is where the elven race gathers.

As a delicate yet powerful race, the elves’ strength originates from nature, and the embodiment of nature is the colossal Mother Tree in the center of the forest that shades the sky. Elven life begins there, and old elves return to the Mother Tree, clinging tightly to its rough, familiar bark, shedding a layer of white skin, and finally returning to their Mother Goddess.

The elves’ greatest treasure is the fruit collected from the Tree of Life.

It is said that it can make decaying bones regrow flesh, allow a beheaded ghostly knight to reconnect his body and head, and even reverse forbidden arts enacted at the cost of life, through the incredible power of the elven Mother Tree.

The Demon King lowered his eyes, his silver hair atop his head like piled moonlight. The black cat sniffed his pale, trailing hair. Kriesmeier’s voice was deep and husky, like a profound war horn sounding on a battlefield, but on second thought, no analogy truly fit:

“…Are you here for me?”

The broken horn on his head still bore layers of persistent bloodstains. The wound was initially inflicted by his father, the former Demon King Eris. When it was about to heal, it was violently torn open again by the Demon King’s own rage. Using the flesh and blood of an Abyss demon as a sacrifice, to track the person to whom his deepest hatred was tied, even his soul was almost drawn out.

The more powerful, the more forbidden magic demanded, with increasingly unbearable costs.

At that time, Kriesmeier saw a living Roland.

Roland leaned back on a white bed, seemingly reading a book, when he suddenly raised his eyes thoughtfully, gazing directly at the Demon King in the forbidden spell. The next second, all illusions vanished without a trace; the confirmation gained through forbidden magic lasted only a fleeting moment.

The Demon King’s horn bled, soaking his long hair.

“Of course,”

The black cat used its swaying tail to guide the Demon King. The Elf Forest was the elves’ sacred land, and thus the paths to enter were incredibly complex. Trespassers could at any moment step into deadly traps or inescapable illusions.

“Kries, you need to completely heal your wounds. And Hilda also managed to send me a message, telling me they plan to set off for the Elf Forest with that legendary hero. They were already coming here, so this works out perfectly.”

The Elf Forest, shrouded in night, glowed with firefly light. Those fragile beings lit their life fires, illuminating the subtle shadows of the trees and Kriesmeier’s dim eyes. The Demon King said nothing, lost in his own thoughts, and walked for a while longer before suddenly asking, strangely and calmly:

“What if the latter things didn’t happen?”

“What?”

“Your apprentice didn’t send you a message. They appeared somewhere else and asked for your help,” Kriesmeier said.

“My help—”

Roland quickly understood what the Demon King was asking, paused, and then said with a slight smile:

“If they didn’t have means of self-preservation, they wouldn’t even be considered apprentices of the Mage Tower. As for where I would appear, didn’t I say before that I couldn’t simply ignore your wounds? Kriesmeier, although I think you’re asking this out of possessiveness, I don’t dislike it at all. Haven’t I said that when I truly return to your side, you can freely choose whether or not to hold me forever through death, or create an inescapable cage, and I wouldn’t mind giving you the only key?”

Humans were indeed very skilled at sweet-talking; these words could make the Lust Lord of the Abyss feel utterly inferior.

“And you can destroy it,”

The young human’s voice, on the contrary, sounded like an enchantment directed at an Abyss demon. He was one of the most brilliant among the human race, possessing rare talent in the current era and incredibly powerful strength, yet at this moment, he spoke softly to his lover, even his hidden amusement carrying a dangerous allure that could make one fall:

“I promised you, I’ll be by your side, going nowhere.”

The Demon King suddenly couldn’t resist clenching his fingertips, almost scratching himself.

However, turning this corner, their conversation was finally forced to a halt. Behind the demon from the Abyss, a pair of dark wings slowly unfurled, obscuring the sky. Compared to those sharp wings, even the moon seemed to grow dim.

Kriesmeier’s footsteps slowly stopped. His golden eyes quickly washed away the emotions from earlier, gazing coldly and murderously at the enemy before him.

The enemies—that is, the elves who had finally sensed an unprovokable presence entering the elven forbidden grounds—were now arrayed in formation at the last entrance, assembled by their elders. Elves were skilled with bows and arrows. At this moment, a flurry of shimmering arrows was aimed at the Demon King. A single command would unleash a volley.

The tense atmosphere was ready to explode.

Just then, a black cat wobbled out of Kriesmeier’s arms, then turned back to him, letting out a soft, affectionate “meow,” before gracefully landing on the ground.

Why was there a black cat in this situation—

The elven archers looked in incomprehension at the amber-eyed black cat on the ground, which had undoubtedly darted out of the cold-faced Demon King’s embrace. But the Demon King made no other move for the moment, instead looking at the black cat on the ground. This prompted them to also look hesitantly at the black cat, and for a moment, they did not launch their attack.

The black cat walked forward.