TBR CH189

“Don’t worry,” Roland stated simply, “I have no intention of seeking death.”

He drew the room’s curtains, blocking the outdoor sunlight. Kriesmeier, deeply asleep, naturally merged into the shadows. Roland sat at the desk in his dressing gown, the only light in the room emanating from his constantly flickering phone screen.

The Black Book was still deliberating on how best to express, “But what you said made you sound like a pervert.” When the “typing…” status ended, a smiling emoji finally popped up.

The Black Book seemed to truly consider itself an app, maintaining a highly efficient iteration speed. Recently, it had mainly updated itself with features for sending images and emojis, and even meticulously designed a background image—though the main color remained black.

Roland rubbed the screen with his thumb, then skillfully tapped open a series of emojis, selecting an innocent-looking black cat and sending it over.

“Aren’t you going to explain what you plan to do?” The black cat in the Archmage’s emoji lay lazily on the ground, eyes closed.

This appearance actually bore some resemblance to the Demon King in the room. The arrogant and violent Demon King was now deeply immersed in an unknown dream. Only the human knew how clingy Kriesmeier was in his chaotic consciousness; plunged into pain, he mostly nuzzled into the human’s neck, his dark golden eyes blurred with a burning warmth, only his possessiveness clear.

When he woke up this morning, Roland uncharacteristically found that he wasn’t tightly bound by layers of dark wings. The weakened Demon King was no longer able to maintain his wings; he hadn’t even woken up. —This was why Roland sighed softly and left the bed to sit at the desk.

He pressed the power button of his computer, which had been neglected for days. The tower hummed a few times, then the sole connection point between the two worlds once again opened itself to Roland. Abyss remained quietly on the computer screen, like a half-open, half-closed eye.

However, after double-clicking, it wasn’t the familiar interface that appeared.

Since the day before yesterday, Abyss had announced a shutdown for maintenance due to a severe server incident, triggering an unprecedentedly fierce discussion. The official statement was vague, and the game always showed “connecting.” The announcement text was cold and mechanical, not a single word about the details of the problems in Abyss. Thanks to this, Roland put everything aside and spent a pleasant weekend with Kriesmeier, but this time he read it carefully.

“I am a ghost that doesn’t exist on the Mirar Continent,” he said, who had already been pronounced dead once. “I came here because of your help, and this world accepted me because of it. But Kris is different. The door he walked through was opened by scythe and blood, and his connection to his homeland has never been severed. He is regarded as an invader here.”

The Archmage had suffered two setbacks in his long professional career, and both times consecutively at the hands of Kriesmeier. One was his inability to undo his own research: a magic array that, once activated, was irreversible; the other was his discovery that the starlight of this world simply refused to fall upon the Demon King, and that among all spells, only transference magic was effective.

“I thought things would be a bit easier,” Roland covered his eyes with the back of his hand. “Turns out it’s still very tricky, huh.”

“…Uh,” the Black Book asked cautiously, “Is it very tricky?”

The World Consciousness felt that its thoughts must have diverged from Roland’s at some point. Roland was the most incomprehensible human it had seen in these worlds, completely unable to discern what the other was thinking. From the Black Book’s perspective, this matter wasn’t actually that difficult. Since Kriesmeier had already opened the portal, they could first send the Demon King back, deal with the system’s inspection, and maintain the balance between the two worlds. Once the dust settled and the mess with the Son of Destiny and the system was resolved, Roland could also return through this portal. Although this process would take some time—

“You’re right,” Roland’s abrupt smile interrupted it. The young man’s eyes flickered darkly in a hazy glow. “Thank you very much for your reassurance. I feel much more relaxed. Indeed, the situation isn’t that serious. I just have a little separation anxiety. And, aren’t we still supposed to erase Kriesmeier’s memory of this world?”

“Don’t worry,” the Black Book immediately assured him. “This is just to temporarily sever the Demon King’s connection with here, just as you could live here because you were erased by the system. Once he successfully returns to the Mirar Continent, he’ll be able to remember again.”

It actually felt a bit unaccustomed. In the previous worlds, the World Consciousness had more or less played a pushing role in the villains’ romantic storylines, and was very proud of it. But having to separate a loving couple in this world left it with an inexplicable sense of guilt.

“Just like when I arrived?” Roland asked consulting.

“Just like when you arrived,” the Black Book explained. This time, it chose one of Roland’s favorite emojis to send: a fluffy, smiling cat head.

The human’s amber eyes were also tinged with a shadowy smile. The Black Book felt a bit unreal, but that feeling was fleeting, not very distinct. Instead, Roland then very reasonably said: “In that case, there’s nothing to worry about. No matter what happens, I know he’ll wait for me, wait for me to find him, and then I’ll offer myself to him. That’s enough for me.”

—I’m worried the same thing will happen. This sentence suddenly flashed across the World Consciousness’s thoughts.

“But let’s delay the ritual a bit,” Roland’s voice interrupted its inexplicable worry. The human’s voice softened, and then he once again put a finger to his lips, making a silencing gesture. “Give us a little more time. Before Kris has to continue waiting for me, I want to spend more time with him. Oh, and please don’t worry about the gift exchange I mentioned…”

…That was what the Black Book was most worried about when it started this conversation!

“You,” the World Consciousness stammered, “do you really have to give that? I always feel like it’s going to be a bit bloody. And, what do you need the Demon King to give in return? Even if the Demon King leaves you a similar gift, and you think you won’t die, uh, I mean, do you really need to make the farewell ceremony like this?”

Roland’s gaze lingered slightly on a point in the air.

“I’m not as complicated as you think,” the human said. “Since he likes it, I’ll give it to him. As for me, I’ll take something of equal value as compensation. We’re inherently more suited for a bloody and cruel atmosphere, aren’t we?”

What made the Abyss Demons so powerful—was it destruction, or the consumption of souls that once possessed power?

When Archmage Roland Xavier’s footsteps first echoed in that azure palace, he saw the bone throne, grim as a blade, and the nightmare-like Demon King Kriesmeier entrenched upon it. The Demon King’s knuckles silently traced over the scythe “Demon’s Eye,” his weapon bearing a hollow gap. In subsequent research, Roland realized the truth.

It was almost as if the goddess of fate had mockingly cast a divine punishment upon the Abyss Demons: a race that had lost the ability to distinguish between love and hate, yet whose power waxed and waned precisely in accordance with emotion. Destroying what they were emotionally attached to was the only path to increasing their strength.

Emotions sustained by bloodline, the natural emotions among kin… It was precisely because of such emotions that they had to destroy them. After bloody massacres, they were always alone; this was the cruel and unconscious fate of the Abyss Demons.

More than once in fragmented dreams, the Archmage had seen Kriesmeier during those ten years. He was like a ghost in a dream, quietly approaching the monarch on the throne. The Demon King, covered in layers of frost, opened one eye, his golden eye empty, reflecting nothing. The bone scythe in his hand seemed to be coiled with a venomous snake that killed upon contact; the imperfection on it was left for Roland, a fact that reassured the Archmage.

Roland thought of Kriesmeier’s deceased relatives; he rose from their corpses, devoured their flesh. For demons, there was no other way to express love than to consume a person. But his Kriesmeier had learned how to love someone. His Kriesmeier was remarkable.

…After being taught love, he was abandoned for a full decade. Roland didn’t mind at all if the Demon King devoured him, killed him, and extracted his ribs to finally perfect “Demon’s Eye,” because to him, it was no different from a complete confession.

He thought again of Kriesmeier’s expression when he looked at him. Ardent love, more ardent than the love magic the Archmage always disdained, desperately restraining the desire to tear his lover apart, to kiss his lips, to kiss the blood flowing from his bitten wounds.

Roland had to be very restrained to stop all these fantasies. He then curved his lips dreamily, then quietly moved his chair and knelt by the bed. He placed his hand on Kriesmeier’s forehead. The Demon King’s metallic, dull hair passed through his fingers. Kriesmeier suddenly opened his eyes; those dark golden eyes were extremely clear the moment they looked at the young man.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” Roland said with ease, then leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry, that’s just how it is.”

“What do you want?” the Demon King asked.

“Secrets. There’s no revealing the bottom line before the gift exchange,” Roland made a symbolic shushing gesture, but then whispered, “However, would you be willing to promise me any item of yours? Just as a gift to me. I’m not the type to easily take a loss.”

“Okay,” Kriesmeier said.

It seemed Roland had truly tamed Demon King Kriesmeier. The Black Book suddenly realized that in the few days they had spent together like the most ordinary couple, Kriesmeier had rarely shown tendencies towards violence and madness. He merely kept a close watch on the human, as always, like a fierce dragon guarding its treasure. It was as if Roland’s presence was an anchor that could stabilize him.

The Black Book suddenly felt an indescribable chill. Roland was fully aware of everything about Kriesmeier; he understood the Demon King, understood the Abyss Demons, as if everything was clearly imprinted in his mind. But since the human knew the Demon King was listening, then from a certain moment, were all his words spoken with that premise in mind?

Dan Bin rushed into the dorm room, greatly alarmed. He always swept in like a tornado, and his roommates were used to it. They were familiar with the young man’s raised eyebrows because usually, after that, he would launch into a series of long speeches.

“Do you know what I saw?” Dan Bin said, “Listen to me—”

But his roommate Bai Shi clearly wasn’t in the mood to listen to him properly. Bai Shi had been staring blankly at his computer screen from the outermost bed in the dorm. Seeing Dan Bin rush in, he frowned slightly and began to pack his belongings with a gloomy expression. Almost as Dan Bin excitedly came to a stop, Bai Shi brushed past him with his backpack on, heading out the door.

“Leaving already?” Even for the most enthusiastic person, having their desire to share doused with cold water made Dan Bin somewhat dejected.

“I thought you’d be interested. I’m telling you, it’s about the new internet cafe manager at our place. Didn’t he get amnesia from my dad’s hit-and-run? Turns out his partner found him, and they reconnected through the game Abyss.”

“…Not interested,” Bai Shi glanced at him and walked out of the dorm room.

He had been in a particularly bad mood these past two days, especially when he heard the words “Abyss.” The moment he bound with the system, he thought he had embarked on an easy path in life, leading to dating girls, building a harem, and finally reaching the pinnacle of life. When he learned that the balance between the two worlds had gone wrong, he wondered if world fusion could happen earlier. Although he hadn’t met the legendary princess yet, at least he still had three beautiful girls with him—though one of them was the evil witch Hilda. But the system coldly reminded him that if the current Kriesmeier came to the modern world, it would be a question of whether he could even survive.

If the Demon King descended, this world might be destroyed, Bai Shi couldn’t help but think, then grumbled silently that the system was too useless. Especially Kriesmeier. In those leveling-up stories, this position should have been filled by a hot female character who showed sufficient interest in the protagonist with the system, then eagerly became a member of his harem. If her personality was good, she could even compete with the saintess for the main wife. Why did he have to be so unlucky as to get a pure war-mongering psychopath?

He was in a bad mood, naturally not wanting to hear Dan Bin ramble about anything related to Abyss, so he simply left the dorm, out of sight, out of mind.

“A-Bin,” the other roommates seemed to catch on to something. “Don’t take it to heart. He plays games all day long and seems to be in a relationship in there. Once he even boasted to us that his girl was completely obedient to him, even prettier than the campus goddess in the next major. These past two days, the game’s been under maintenance, and he can’t seem to contact her, still wearing a sour face.”

“Hey!” Dan Bin got excited again. “Don’t even mention it, this plot sounds a bit familiar. But my story is different! The internet cafe manager at our place is named Roland, and he supposedly has amnesia. Turns out his partner showed up these past two days, and they reconnected in the game. My god, doesn’t that sound like a TV drama plot?”

“Is it a pretty girl?” His roommate was also a little interested.

“I thought so too,” Dan Bin gestured vividly. “He described her to me before, saying she was gentle, had a good personality, was good-looking, and loved him wholeheartedly. Isn’t that perfect?”

As he spoke, he remembered what happened shortly before, when he rushed up the internet cafe stairs. He first heard two voices from Roland’s room—his former study. One voice was very familiar to him, while the other’s voice was cold and deep, yet slightly hoarse. This voice sounded familiar—

With that confusion, Dan Bin knocked on Roland’s room door without much thought. The voices inside paused for a few seconds, then Roland opened the door. Dan Bin was dumbfounded.

“Excuse me,” the red-haired young man was usually an unruly troublemaker, but for some reason, upon seeing the other person in the room, he couldn’t help but use polite phrasing. “Uh, I’m here for Roland. No, that’s not right. I just heard voices here, so I came to check. Are you friends? No, your memory isn’t…”

“You can take your time,” Roland couldn’t help but laugh. “But allow me to introduce him first. This is my boyfriend; he came specifically to find me.”

Dan Bin held his forehead with his hand, bounced twice vigorously in the dorm, then turned two circles, letting each roommate clearly see his expression so they could also realize how utterly terrified he had been. He was indeed a storytelling genius; after that, he continued the plot from where he had just left off.

“Actually, I think it’s the 21st century,” he said, “this isn’t a big deal. But can you imagine, such a person, likely a hybrid, dressed in a suit, wearing a tie, with a cold expression, looking just like…”

“An elite?” his roommate interjected.

Dan Bin shook his head. “To be frank, the aura of that person in that outfit made me suspect he’d elegantly pull a gun from his suit and finish me off the next second. He looked like a dangerous individual. Never mind if you can imagine it or not, but anyway, he’s the ‘gentle and good-tempered partner’ Roland talks about! This is too—”

His gaze shifted back to the study on the second floor of Dan Bin’s house, and the time shifted to the morning.

“Kris connected with me through Abyss,” Roland said. “Thanks to this game, otherwise he wouldn’t know where to find me. But my family is still abroad and needs some time to contact, so I’m afraid I’ll have to bother you for a little longer.”

As the black-haired youth spoke with a slight smile, the so-called boyfriend behind him leaned slightly towards him, his expression arrogant and cold, as if he whispered something threateningly in his ear for a moment. Now Dan Bin started worrying about Roland.

Although he hadn’t known the other for long, Roland was good-natured, gentle, and had a good-student demeanor, and had already been unilaterally classified by Dan Bin as “one of us.” But his boyfriend looked like a difficult person, clearly a man of society, who might be very bad for him. And he had a pair of cold golden eyes.

In fact, Dan Bin’s radar wasn’t wrong, because what Kriesmeier whispered into the Archmage’s ear was indeed dangerous enough. Basically, the Demon King was asking Roland if there was any need to eliminate this suddenly intruding young human.

“Don’t worry,” Roland soothingly stroked Kriesmeier’s hand. He didn’t truly want to kill the human opposite him, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered to ask his somewhat chaotic-good self. However, the Demon King was in a weakened state, and contrary to popular belief, his aggression was even sharper, especially towards anyone who stepped into the forbidden zone he had marked out for Roland. In other words—he simply didn’t want Roland’s attention divided by anyone else.

Dan Bin remembered the man with the cold gaze and couldn’t help but feel a chill down his spine. He would also mock himself, living in a modern society governed by law, what was there to be afraid of about a man merely dressed in formal attire, whose demeanor exuded a swift and elegant air? But when the other’s gaze fell upon him, he felt as if he was being stared at by some gigantic beast from an older era, that gaze carrying the scent of rust.

“You said it was so scary,” his roommate asked interestedly, leaning on the bed’s railing, “then what?”

Dan Bin’s expression instantly slumped. He looked more bitter than before, crossing his fingers and exclaiming, “Then—then they just flaunted their affection in front of me for over ten minutes!”

The silent physical contact between the couple could be left unsaid, such as how Roland’s hand had been grasped by the other at some point and wouldn’t be let go. This couldn’t be interpreted as intimidation, because Roland was the one who mischievously squeezed the other’s palm first. Then Roland began to tell Dan Bin their love story. He smiled, pointing to the withered white rose on the desk, “This is what I gave him before. He carried it with him until he found me. Isn’t that romantic?”

“Oh,” Dan Bin said at the time, “sending white roses isn’t common.”

At that moment, the dangerous individual Roland called Kris suddenly spoke. His voice was deep, giving off an arrogant, superior air. At least, that’s what Dan Bin thought. He clearly didn’t expect the other to deliver lines like some cheesy TV drama protagonist—and he did so very meticulously:

“He told me that the language of white roses is,” Kriesmeier slowly said, “‘I am worthy of you.'”

In the silent room, a joyful chuckle suddenly rang out. Roland waved his hand, “Sorry, I lost my composure a bit, because Kris is really… I shouldn’t talk too much about us in front of others, but he’s really cute like this. Do you want some fruit?”

Dan Bin found it hard to describe how he felt when he saw Roland’s boyfriend glance at him coldly after hearing that sentence, as if he didn’t exist, then pick up an apple and a fruit knife from the nearby cabinet. The fruit knife coldly reflected the indoor light. Kriesmeier unhurriedly picked up the apple, then held up the blade and plunged it straight down.

Dan Bin couldn’t help but close his eyes. When he opened them again, the bright red apple peel had curled down along the blade, revealing the plump fruit flesh.

Roland was still casually talking to him about something. Dan Bin didn’t know how to deal with it anymore, and in a rush of blood to his head, he blurted out his initial thought:

“Uh, Xiao Luo, why does your boyfriend look so familiar? I never thought someone in real life would look so much like a character from Abyss, hahaha, even his eye color and hair are exactly the same! No wonder you stared at the poster for so long back then. What country’s bloodline is that…”

“It’s from the Abyss realm of the Mirar Continent.” Roland, of course, didn’t say such a thing. He just blinked, responding to the first part: “This? It’s because I’ve always loved the boss in Abyss, so he dresses quite similarly. Kris has always been like this, very indulgent with me in these matters. That’s why I love him so much.”

As the Archmage seized another opportunity to confess his love, Kriesmeier finished peeling an apple. Dan Bin recoiled, hoping the other would forget his presence. This wish came true very smoothly, because the “boyfriend,” who looked very dangerous, directly pierced a slice of apple with the knife and held it to Roland’s mouth. Roland, naturally, took a bite.

Dan Bin felt he couldn’t stay there for another second, so he hastily got up, mumbled some plausible excuse, and turned to slip away. Roland bid him farewell with a seemingly regretful look, but the sharp-eyed young man could certainly see that he subtly pulled Kriesmeier’s cufflink, his fingers steadily moving upward, making the other lean down. The moment he closed the door, they definitely kissed.

While Dan Bin was sharing this fresh news with his friends as if he had escaped a disaster, and while others were enthusiastic but felt he was exaggerating somewhat, Roland and Kriesmeier were actually discussing the young man’s sudden visit again, but in a somewhat troublesome sense.

“That human,” Kriesmeier suddenly said after feeding Roland a few slices of apple, “What did he call you?”

Roland looked up, a little confused. In reality, the Demon King probably never peeled apples in his own palace. The Archmage didn’t intend to ponder what kind of practice had made the other so skilled with a small knife—even before he became the Demon King, he hadn’t inherited his famous scythe, “Demon’s Eye,” from the previous Demon King.

“Xiao Luo?” Kriesmeier said slowly.

Too strange, Roland thought. He couldn’t help but cover his face: “That’s not an intimate address, and according to the etiquette of this world, ‘Luo’ just happens to be a surname, so that’s what he calls me. Never mind, if you want to call me something else, why not try something different?”

Kriesmeier imperceptibly rotated his pupils, aiming at him. Then the Demon King awkwardly imitated human speech, as if his tongue was stuck on something rough. His pronunciation was already a little inhumanly strange, his voice deep: “Should I call you… darling?”

Roland slightly parted his fingers, revealing his amber eyes, and complained softly: “You should have called me that sooner.”