TBR CH188

This bright and vivid amusement park was completely unfamiliar to both Roland and Kriesmeier.

After trying all the attractions, Roland found that Kriesmeier might feel a slight sense of familiarity only with the haunted house. The Demon King’s dark golden eyes looked at the giant purple castle in front of him with a questioning gaze, and upon hearing the screams of humans from within, he finally felt a little familiar. He asked Roland, “Are there any man-eating demons inside?”

“I don’t think so.” Roland couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s best not to judge the entertainment of this world with overly realistic eyes.”

Kriesmeier withdrew his gaze in great disappointment, essentially the look of dashed hopes for “snacks.” But he was still dragged by Roland into the haunted house for a tour. The haunted house operated on a batch entry system; only a few people could enter at a time, and this group usually moved collectively.

When plastic mannequins suddenly lunged out from the platforms, the guests who entered with them erupted in panicked screams, clutching their heads and fleeing in disarray. Kriesmeier looked at these humans with cold disdain. Outside the haunted house, he projected the image of a cold, aloof elite who kept people at a distance. As he stepped into the dimness, his abyssal demon eyes silently exuded an extremely dangerous aura. One young girl in their group boldly asked him what brand he used, and Roland smiled, helping him out.

Kriesmeier clearly didn’t find anything interesting here. However, when Roland linked his arm behind him and then let out a very theatrical scream, the situation changed. Kriesmeier’s eyes immediately fell on the Archmage, who, along with the other guests, yelled out loud, then looked at him slyly.

“You don’t need to cooperate with those people,” Kriesmeier said. “You walked out of the Lord of Greed’s labyrinth. He placed tempting things inside, but also truly terrifying existences.”

“What if I told you I’m afraid of this?” Roland blinked.

“So you can’t be scar—” The Demon King’s pupils fixated on him. The human lowered his eyes, trembling quite genuinely amidst the wailing of ghosts around them, pressing closer to the Demon King’s side. He could never tell if the other was sincere or feigning, or simply wanted to be intimate with him: “…If you truly think so, then hold my hand tightly and don’t stray even a step from me.”

In Kriesmeier’s experience, it was rare to see the Archmage show weakness. But this time, the human truly clung to the Demon King throughout the entire haunted house. They then encountered ghosts disguised with white sheets, staff members with messy paper masks on their faces, and foam plastic bodies placed in corners. Roland’s screams were not very convincing.

“Never mind,” Roland finally couldn’t help but laugh after seeing a zombie wearing sneakers bounce past them. “I admit I’m not very scared either, but someone has to play this role in a haunted house—hmm, I just wanted to see you protect me more.”

Kriesmeier subtly tightened his grip on his hand a little more. —In any case, it was basically impossible for the human to break free.

“Hey,” Roland said, his face indeed looking very pale in the dim light of the haunted house. “Does this count as me being taken by a ghost in the haunted house? A Demon King and a ghost are pretty much the same species… Compared to a ghost, I feel like you’re even more dangerous.”

“Yes,” Kriesmeier calmly admitted.

They finally walked to the end of the haunted house with a group of screaming guests. Their backs were drenched in cold sweat, and their teeth chattered from fright. They practically bolted out the moment they saw the exit.

Roland smiled, and just as he was about to say something, he noticed Kriesmeier suddenly release his hand. “Your hand is very damp.” The Demon King’s gaze was uncertain as he looked at him.

The human’s hair tips seemed to be soaked with cold sweat. At this moment, he merely raised his eyes vaguely, smiling at him indifferently, his face a shade paler. The Demon King once again recalled his earlier, abnormal trembling.

“Is that so?” Roland’s lips curved into a wider smile. “It’s just that it’s been a long time since I held hands with my boyfriend, so a little nervousness is normal.”

He walked out of the haunted house. The twilight glow of the setting sun shone on him. He pulled his khaki trench coat tighter, revealing half of his amber eyes, which sparkled, reflecting the orange sunset. Then he suddenly said brightly, “Kris, I want ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” Unbeknownst to him, Kriesmeier was again lightly led by the human through the bustling crowd, arriving at a carousel where there was an ice cream stand. The carousel constantly emitted sweet, melodious flute music. Although Roland had dragged Kriesmeier onto it once before, he had no interest in the ride itself, only staring unblinkingly at Roland sitting on the tin horse’s back.

“I once had the chance to become a knight,” the human said. “Thankfully, I didn’t take that path.”

It was hardly surprising that the slowly rotating pink ponies weren’t enough to interest the two of them. However, it was after spending money on tickets for the supposedly thrilling roller coaster that Kriesmeier felt genuinely confused.

“If you like it,” the winged Demon King commented, “that feeling of flying, I can absolutely take you myself, and you can save your gold coins.”

Turning his attention to the present, savoring the five-dollar chocolate ice cream cone Roland bought, Kriesmeier clearly thought it was a better deal than the thirty-dollar roller coaster ticket and the ten-dollar carousel ticket. Roland reminded him that his suit cost thousands, but the Demon King said nothing, biting into the cone—he finished the entire cone in just two bites.

“You still really like sweets,” Roland murmured, holding his orange-flavored cone.

Although the human was the one who suggested eating, he didn’t actually finish it quickly. It wasn’t until the last bit of ice cream melted that he chose to throw the remnants into the trash can, and once again took Kriesmeier’s hand. This time his hand was especially cold, which was of course very natural, as he had just discarded the cone a second ago.

But something felt off.

“Let’s go,” Roland reminded him considerately. He seemed to know his direction no matter where they were. “This way. It’s getting dark, and we have enough time to ride the Ferris wheel in Licheng tonight.”

His steps suddenly faltered, and he looked at Kriesmeier with a hint of confusion. The Demon King, intentionally probing, looked at him with cold, dark golden eyes, as if revealing that nothing could truly be hidden from this cruel and brutal monarch. Then he slowly drew the young man’s hand completely into his fingertips. This time, his grip was extremely firm and reliable, sufficient to provide any support.

“Hold on to me.”

Roland smiled, his amber eyes sparkling: “Okay.”

The Archmage tried not to reveal his current abnormality. But in front of Kriesmeier, his disguise didn’t seem to be too successful. Transferring the damage suffered by the demon to himself was undoubtedly in the realm of forbidden magic. Roland felt a bit like a little mermaid walking on knife-edges; at first, it was bearable, but at a certain point, intense pain spread in waves. He trembled involuntarily, tensing his back, yet still unable to stop the cold sweat, dampening his hair.

It wasn’t until the Ferris wheel ascended halfway, and everything on the ground grew smaller and smaller, like boxes dotting his vision, that this wave of pain finally passed. He let out a silent sigh of relief. As a human, his endurance was completely incomparable to that of a demon. Trying to bear Kriesmeier’s injuries seemed like a pipe dream, though Archmage Roland Xavier never liked to admit defeat.

Roland then began to carefully examine his surroundings. It was a cabin suspended in mid-air, with a solid floor and large glass windows all around. The glass windows were almost airtight, but the whistling sound of the wind hitting the glass cabin was still clearly audible. The cabin was very small, only able to accommodate two seats facing each other, meaning two people could sit down—

Around the cabin was a row of small colorful lights, which had not yet lit up. Within sight inside the cabin, apart from the glass windows for viewing, it was covered everywhere with glittering heart-themed decorations. This was probably the main symbol of the “Sweet Couple Ferris Wheel Ride.”

The Ferris wheel ascended very slowly, almost imperceptibly if one didn’t pay close attention. This was because Licheng’s Ferris wheel focused on an emotional warming journey; it couldn’t let people leave in a hurry with just a few words, so it even took half an hour to complete one full rotation.

Roland turned his gaze to Kriesmeier opposite him. The Demon King sat grimly on the opposite seat. Although it was actually within arm’s reach, he looked very gloomy at this moment and was looking at him with an inquiring gaze. The Demon King’s silver-grey long hair in the night was like a slightly greyish snow.

“Kris…” Roland recalled if he had started feeling pain shortly after getting on the Ferris wheel. In such a small space, even a slight hint of an unusual emotion could be endlessly replayed by the other, leaving almost nothing unnoticed. Sure enough, choosing the Ferris wheel was actually—

“Sorry,” Roland touched his hair. The young man’s dark hair fell down, sinking into the dim night. “I haven’t ridden a Ferris wheel before, and I was a little too immersed in my own world just now—I was trying to understand what kind of power it takes to make such a behemoth operate.”

It was a bad excuse, but better than none. Sure enough, Kriesmeier’s expression softened a little, but he still held his hand tightly. Roland leaned forward, trying to stroke the Demon King’s hair and soothe his emotions.

But at that moment, a new wave of pain suddenly struck him like lightning. Roland put his hand on Kriesmeier’s waist, trying to support himself from the sudden sharp pain. But the suit fabric was smooth and stiff. Roland’s nails only left shallow marks on it. He slowly slid to the ground due to the pain. The Archmage clutched the hem of the other’s expensive suit, blinked hard, and gave a faint smile:

“Expensive clothes don’t necessarily have all the benefits; they make it hard for me to get a grip on you.”

“You,” Kriesmeier suddenly tightened his grip on Roland’s wrist, with such force that Roland wondered if the other actually wanted to murder him on the spot. His erratic heartbeat was transmitted through where their wrists met. “Why exactly?”

The Ferris wheel was moving towards the top every minute, though very slowly. A string of plastic lights lit up incongruously in their cabin; the cheap, colorful lights illuminated a small section of the night sky.

“No reason,” Roland said, surprisingly calm, as if he had expected this. “I’ve been neglecting my exercise, and human physical fitness is inherently poor. Kris, give me a little support. The Ferris wheel is about to reach its highest point, and I don’t want to miss this moment.”

A faint smile touched his lips, but his face was as pale as a ghost. The Demon King could feel the greatest human in the history of the Mirar Continent trembling faintly and endure under his fingertips. The pain was like a deeply rooted hydra in his veins, constantly devouring his vulnerability. He knew that the pain was bearable for an abyssal demon, but for the fragile human body—

“You don’t have to transfer the pain to yourself,” the Demon King’s dark golden eyes looked at him. “It’s already unbearable, Archmage. I demand you withdraw the spell.”

“Are you worried about me?” Roland was very weak, but still curved the corners of his eyes, teasingly. He slowly moved the hand gripping Kriesmeier’s suit upwards, clearly no longer caring that he was sitting on the ground in the narrow, cramped “Super Sweet Ferris Wheel Couple Cabin,” letting his trench coat get dusty. He grabbed Kriesmeier’s tie. Thank goodness, he remembered to buy the other a tie.

Even so, Kriesmeier’s determined pursuit of the topic he intentionally concealed gave him a few more headaches. A strong, overwhelming wave of pain hit him. Roland swayed. He had intended to grip Kriesmeier’s tie with a slight force, but his pale knuckles rested weakly on the other’s tie, clearly without any power.

Now, looking down from the transparent cabin, the ground was a patchwork of colorful lights, but the ground seemed very far away. Now he and Kriesmeier were high in the sky, alone in a corner of the world. He abruptly suppressed a gasp, resting his head sideways on Kriesmeier’s leg; the other’s muscles were visibly stiff.

“Worry…” the Demon King repeated, reaching out to stroke Roland’s hair. Very soft. His voice was deep and sharp, “That’s a human emotion. I don’t understand why you insist on doing this at risk. My injuries are for me to resolve. If you still refuse to withdraw your spell, I will destroy it with my scythe.”

“—Enough.” Roland closed his eyes. His voice sounded grim in that instant, and even Kriesmeier stopped speaking. “Kris, I know you don’t mind me watching you die, but don’t emphasize it every time you’re in front of me.”

“You have no obligation to be responsible for me,” Kriesmeier said stiffly, his silver-grey long hair falling onto his knees as he leaned forward. But he still allowed the human to rest his head on his lap, and awkwardly touched the human’s back. For the first time, the Demon King began to feel that the power of the Abyss Demons had great flaws; their power system had no magic for healing others.

“Alright,” Roland’s eyes were deeply set against the night sky. In this position, he showed his half-smile pupils to the Demon King. “If you want to die so badly, once you’re dead, I’ll go find some… demon or undead to fall in love with. My aesthetic has already been influenced by you this much anyway. I won’t wear a white rose and remain a widow for you, Your Majesty, the Demon King.”

He felt, as he had wished, the Demon King’s rage burn to its extreme in an instant.

“How dare you—”

“You neither kill me nor allow me to suffer,” Roland murmured, his words carrying a strange undertone. He finally mustered the strength to pull down the Demon King’s tie with force. “You sacrificed yourself just to see me? Kris, why didn’t I notice you were so selfless before?”

Kriesmeier’s mind was basically occupied by Roland’s sharp mockery just now, especially the part about finding a new lover. The Archmage was popular everywhere, and this deeply ingrained concept in the Demon King’s mind played a larger role than Roland had imagined, almost overwhelming his reason, causing him to neglect his vigilance regarding Roland’s movements.

A faint black and red glow of the scythe vaguely appeared in Kriesmeier’s hand. But the next second, it was interrupted, and he was pulled to the ground by Roland. Almost pressing onto the young man’s stifled laughing chest, Kriesmeier quickly rolled to the right. The large wings behind him flickered for an instant, then retracted due to the cramped space, meaning the Demon King couldn’t completely avoid Roland either.

“You pressed on me too hard,” Roland said unhurriedly, loosening the tie. “Not only that, dear, there are surveillance cameras in the Ferris wheel.”

He hoped the drowsy security guard wouldn’t see a man in a suit grow wings in one of the cabins at the top of the Ferris wheel, even if it was only for a brief moment and caused by him. If he didn’t do so, the problem would escalate from an emotional dispute and an unbelievable magic show to illegal possession of a controlled weapon.

Kriesmeier glanced at the surveillance camera. He didn’t know what it was, but he probably understood the Archmage’s meaning. Therefore, in the next second, the surveillance glass shattered cleanly, as if chosen by some inexplicable force. Kriesmeier then turned his eyes to Roland. Perhaps that pull had completely ignited the Demon King’s inhuman aura. At this very moment, he, like Roland, was absurdly half-sitting on the narrow cabin floor of the Ferris wheel, sandwiched between the two seats, then suddenly flipped over and restrained Roland again, his infinitely close pupils glinting with a cold, metallic sheen.

But he couldn’t strike—Why? Because Roland said he was in pain.

The human with amber eyes, his dark hair seeming to hold all the wisdom of the night sky, his words just now had diverted the Demon King’s attention, but at this moment he was confined by the pain of the human body. He pretended well, still smiling with ease, feigning that the topic had passed:

“Whatever you’re going to do,” Roland warned in a flippant tone, “be gentle. Don’t make me fix anything else besides the camera.”

The Demon King seemed to be choosing which suitable part to start dismembering his prey from. The great demon’s long hair fell like moonlight, revealing the broken horn he had carefully concealed with magic along the way. He remained silent, his eyes turning into beast-like vertical pupils, silently pressing his head against Roland’s rising and falling chest, then spoke.

“Here—” Kriesmeier’s cold fingertips stopped. “Will it hurt much?”

The human was bewildered for a moment. “Sorry,” Roland asked, “what did you ask?”

This was clearly difficult for the Abyss Demon King to articulate. Even for demons, there weren’t many emotional entanglements that confined humans, but when facing an enemy, words like humiliation and revenge would still shake his resolve to be frank. Kriesmeier continued to grope for the position of Roland’s heart with his fingertips. The Demon King’s nails dangerously traced patterns through the fabric, but Roland felt it was a bit like some small animal.

Kriesmeier slowly said, “I cannot understand, but I am truly very… worried. That is the most suitable word in human language, and I should not deny it. Roland, I can inflict pain upon myself, but you are not allowed to do so.”

“Why?”

“You said you belong to me,” the Demon King repeated coldly. “And I forbid it.”

If one were not too pedantic, the Ferris wheel had already reached its highest point, or was just about to. Around them was a vast, velvety, dim night sky, with hardly any stars visible, pure like a large piece of dark chocolate. The next second, silver fireworks shot into the sky, exploding into bright showers of light, threads of light flowing in Roland’s pupils.

He suddenly remembered the flyer for the fireworks display he had accidentally glimpsed before getting on the Ferris wheel. There were such coincidences in the world, though only small fortunate ones. Just as the cabin where the human and the Demon King sat ascended to the top, and of course, several other cabins around them also enjoyed the same view. The fireworks seemed to explode around them, and the entire city’s fireworks, along with the light of heaven, came into view.

Even without seeing it with his own eyes, Roland knew that the guests who had purchased the “Sweet Couple’s Cabin Ferris Wheel” like them had definitely begun kissing their partners.

“I admit,” Roland said softly, then extended his hand again, “all these things will have solutions, and we can definitely discuss them later. Just in case you’re worried, I’m not that uncomfortable now; that was a particularly bad wave. We really don’t have to start arguing at this moment, do we?”

“I hate how self-assured you are,” Kriesmeier said. “It’s as if everything is under your control.”

The Demon King avoided his gaze, but didn’t stop him from reaching out and grabbing his tie again. Kriesmeier’s silver-grey hair fell with gravity as he was rapidly pulled closer to the young man. Roland was satisfied to have Kriesmeier’s flickering dark golden pupils directly facing his own eyes. At the same time, those strands of hair acted like a barrier, shielding them from the gaze of the entire world.

“I didn’t expect to get your suit dirty,” the Archmage apologized. “I also didn’t expect you to—”

Kriesmeier leaned down and kissed him, not even waiting for him to finish speaking. The Demon King’s kiss revealed a certain cruelty and stubbornness. He fixed himself to the ground with one hand, then plundered the Archmage’s lips, no different from hunting. He might have bitten the other’s lips; in any case, a sweet, bloody taste seemed to stain his tongue, which could also be the lover’s original scent. Roland only paused for a second or two before returning the kiss with equal intensity.

“Can you predict that I will immediately kiss you and silence everything you’re about to say?” The demon seemed to be saying such words with his actions. And Roland, inevitably, felt his heart stir once more. Just as the fireworks outside the cabin didn’t explode in the sky, but in the human’s heart, between his ribs.

It wasn’t until the Ferris wheel passed its highest point, the wind whistling and beating against the glass cabin door, and then slowly began to descend, marking the start of the second half of their journey, that Kriesmeier finally ended the kiss, sated. The Demon King’s silver-grey hair brushed Roland’s face, and his broken horn dully grazed his chest, sending a shiver that could freeze the heart. His gaze was so arrogant, so beautiful.

“Does this…” he said slowly, “mean we’ll be together forever?” His lips were crimson like blood.

The Demon King in a suit was not much different from the Demon King in a greatcoat, although the former carried a layer of stiff detachment, while the latter possessed an arrogant power. But what Roland particularly liked was a subtle difference: the tie. Even during the kiss, he never let go of the hand holding Kriesmeier’s tie. If he wanted, he could wrap the tie in his hand. The tie went around the demon’s vulnerable neck. It would be easy to leave deep ligature marks on his neck, weakened as he was, interrupting the kiss. But Roland did not do so. He knew the switch was in his hand.

—That was enough for him.

“Alright,” Roland winked at Kriesmeier, leaning back against the wall. “This is something I hadn’t expected either, perhaps it could declare your victory. Since that’s the case, I’ll be frank. I did use pain transference magic because I believed I could endure it, and your situation right now is particularly dangerous. But since you’re so insistent, how long do you think you can last?”

Kriesmeier paused, then simply asked, “How long do you need me to last?”

This question was like asking “How much longer do you need to come up with a solution to the problem?” At some point, Roland again realized a flash of something that represented trust. He moved his arm, which was stiff from the pain, and smiled faintly: “A week. Give me a maximum of one week.”

And Kriesmeier didn’t even blink. He stared at Roland with dark golden eyes, and at the same time said “Okay.” As if enduring another week of double pain and extreme weakness was effortless. A hint of relief even flickered in the Demon King’s expression, as if he hadn’t expected things to be so simple. Roland was never an easy person to persuade.

“But this is a trade-off.” The black-haired young man tilted his head slightly. “I can withdraw the magic, but that means in seven days, no matter what arrangements I have, you are not allowed to question them. This is a matter of life and death.”

Kriesmeier questioned: “You are not allowed to harm yourself.”

Roland readily changed his words: “I understand. As long as you still need me like today, or as long as you still want me to belong to you, I will never harm myself. Hmm, in terms of private property protection law, I am your property, and even I don’t have the right to touch myself, right? Is that enough to satisfy you, my dear Demon King?”

The Archmage deliberately and skillfully used such phrasing. He lowered his voice, imbued with an indefinable ambiguity, his amber eyes shining like jewels. Kriesmeier suddenly thought that not far from the abyss, there was once a frost giant dragon recorded in myths. Before he led the demons out of the abyss, it was the most dangerous and evil creature on the Mirar Continent. The dragon was fierce, cunning, extremely dangerous, and had countless kills. It had a dragon’s habit of collecting beautiful, sparkling jewels. And the human in front of him had the most captivating eyes in the world, definitely at the top of its targets.

Later, the fate of that dragon was to become Roland’s magical material. But Kriesmeier had to be bewildered. He knew the human in front of him was dangerous, yet was confused by how easily he retreated at this moment. But he still whispered the most tempting part of the vow.

“As long as I still want you to belong to me…”

“Then I am entirely yours,” Roland said gently and calmly.

His gaze lightly swept over Kriesmeier, then looked towards the boundless night sky behind him. What lay behind the night sky? For this world, it was the boundless universe, with different secrets beyond the stars, but not in the mystical sense. Roland’s gaze fixed on a point in the night sky. Then he realized they were slowly descending on the Ferris wheel.

Going down. Going down, finally landing on the ground, not falling into the abyss.

“I understand,” he heard Kriesmeier’s voice, like a deep cello. “I agree to accept your trade, and you, in the name of blood and magic, are absolutely forbidden to break your oath.”

“I won’t,” Roland smiled, allowing Kriesmeier to draw something on his forehead with blood-stained hands; the cold, damp symbols radiating the eerie glow of the Abyss Demons. “Literally, I will keep my word.”

The moment the spell was about to take effect, the Archmage simultaneously raised his staff. He paused, glancing at Kriesmeier. The other’s expression was indifferent, as if completely ready to accept his fate. Of course, the halved pain wouldn’t cause much harm to the Demon King, but Roland hadn’t forgotten how he had looked up at him like a black bird with a broken wing in the chaotic wooden cabin.

“A kiss?” Roland said.

So the indifferent-faced Demon King paused, examining the human with what seemed like questioning eyes, then his earlobes turned slightly red under Roland’s undisguised gaze of adoration. He pretended not to respond to the human quickly, but the truth was—the Demon King, already seated in his seat, quickly leaned towards the human opposite him.

Thanks to the double cabin on the Ferris wheel, although they sat facing each other, the cramped environment made it much easier for their lips to meet. In the kiss, pain once again pressed heavily on the Demon King like thunder.

But this time, without the effect of magic, without the sensory illusion, Kriesmeier had a somewhat clearer thought. Kissing the human did indeed make him feel less pain, although his fingertips began to tremble, along with the demon’s heart encased beneath the expensive suit.

At the same time, the pain on Roland’s body receded like a tide. He was like the coastline during a tide, having to exert some effort to stabilize himself. But finally, everything settled down.

Roland extended his hand to the Demon King, signaling a hug, and Kriesmeier responded with even greater force. They leaned against each other, unusually quiet, truly beginning to appreciate the different colors that shimmered in the night sky as the Ferris wheel gradually descended. Before landing, Roland, with a strong conscience, restored the surveillance cameras and the other areas they had messed up.

The Ferris wheel stopped. Kriesmeier, his face as usual, turned his dark golden eyes, looking at Roland as if nothing had happened. The Demon King was unwilling to show his weakness to the human, so he stifled those struggles in his clenched fingertips.

“Kris,” Roland suddenly said, “I truly love you very much.”

The Demon King’s movement paused. His dark golden pupils looked at Roland, like terrifying beasts, “Whether I measure it by human love or hate, you are the most special existence in my life, and you will always belong to me.”

This was already Kriesmeier showing weakness. —Although he still hadn’t mentioned definitive love.

“Forever?” Roland murmured, his eyes curving. “Forever.”

But no one would ever know the secret in the Archmage’s heart. At least not now. Roland’s amber eyes suddenly glinted darkly, an instant enough to rival Kriesmeier’s grim pupils. Until this moment, Roland thought, even if a few minor details went wrong, everything was proceeding as he had anticipated, like perfectly meshing gears.

Including everything that happened on the Ferris wheel, or the earlier hints. If this was a symphony, he had achieved his purpose and was steadily moving towards the coda he had written for himself. This was not a bad thing; the Archmage, always marching to the beat of his own drum, felt no regret for what he was doing or was about to do. But he still felt an inexplicable emotion spreading through him.

“I will give you a gift,” Roland declared to Kriesmeier as he took his hand and walked with him through the crowd leaving the Ferris wheel. “—A gift you’ve always wanted very much.”