TBR CH191

“The Demon King has… left?”

Everything had finally settled, but for the first time as the World Consciousness, the Black Book felt dizzy. “What did you do? What? Do you think Kriesmeier would agree? He’ll hate you. Oh my god, why did you do this?”

Roland stood at the center of the magic circle, unsmiling. His amber eyes were clouded with exhaustion.

“I’m just doing what I have to do.”

“For him?” The Black Book found it hard to understand.

“For me,” he said calmly. “Even if it’s just that.”

Time rewound to a few hours earlier.

Roland was the first to release their clasped hands. The Demon King stood beside him, silently observing him with his dark gold pupils. The human stood by the magic circle he had personally drawn, a faint smile in his eyes, not rushing to urge him.

The Black Book, once again, was placed upside down beside him.

Kriesmeier gazed at him, suddenly finding Roland, dressed in a light-colored trench coat, remarkably light. Although he was smiling, there seemed to be a kind of pity in his expression, yet he felt ethereal, as if it wasn’t the Demon King who was about to dissipate from this world, but the human himself. The Demon King once again felt a pitch-black shadow spreading through his heart.

“I’ll see you off one last time.”

The Archmage stared at him, then casually said, still holding hands, and began to walk towards the magic circle.

It was a very complex magic circle, with intricate and beautiful patterns on the ground, vaguely flowing with sacred starlight.

First, there was a memory-wiping spell, used to temporarily strip the Demon King of his memories of this world. Second, there was a teleportation spell to a passage to another world. Even with Roland’s extraordinary talent, he needed the Black Book’s assistance to complete this spell.

Finally, there was an equivalent exchange contract.

The World Consciousness chose to ignore this part. It breathed a sigh of relief, realizing the human still remembered they were in a hurry.

The Archmage’s toes skillfully bypassed the casting materials on the ground. During this time, he had bought salt, charcoal, and metal powder. When he received the delivery, the internet cafe owner, Shan Sheng, looked at him with great confusion, as if he had seen an evil fanatic in modern society. Roland simply said he liked doing handicrafts.

The magic circle could be truly called an exquisite piece of craftsmanship; only the Archmage could walk through it with such ease.

“Goodbye, my dear.”

It was like an ordinary farewell. When his steps stopped, Roland’s wisps of hair on either side of his face brushed against his cheek due to inertia.

He said this to the Demon King, as if they could meet again tomorrow, and could, as now, unequivocally feel the flesh and blood flowing beneath their skin. “Please be patient and wait for me to return to your side.”

Kriesmeier watched him in silence.

But he no longer hesitated, slowly withdrawing his hand.

The lingering sensation on his fingertips dissipated quickly. Kriesmeier had to exercise extreme restraint to suppress his greedy desire to lock the human within his reach. Standing at the center of the magic circle, the Demon King’s hands were empty. His silver-grey long hair was like a handful of dull snow, or a pale, unchanging bone throne.

Roland took a step back, leaving him alone.

Before him was a beast about to lose its companion. The abyss demons were irrational, and trust was difficult. A hint of crimson vaguely appeared in Kriesmeier’s eyes. Such a beast was merely bound by love.

The Archmage thought, for the umpteenth time, how regrettable, how unfortunate, how helpless—

“Even if it’s very painful, will you wait for me?”

He whispered, like dropping the last heavy chain. The Demon King slowly lifted his head, but acquiesced.

Roland heard a faint hiss, and felt a strange sensation underfoot. The human lowered his head and saw that his backward step had landed precisely on a corner of the pentagram in the magic circle, destroying the perfect pattern. Carbon powder mixed with metal glittered and stuck to the sole of his shoe, symbolizing incompleteness.

Even a junior apprentice in the Mage Tower wouldn’t make the basic mistake of damaging a magic circle they had drawn themselves.

And this was a magic circle that could not tolerate the slightest error.

A force suddenly tore him forward.

Magic of this magnitude, once out of control, was unimaginable. The magic circle inexplicably began to operate automatically, and even the starlight gradually turned crimson. Roland was drawn into the magic circle’s resonance field. A sharp wail echoed in his ears, and the reality before him began to crack and fade, like old peeling paint.

The Demon King quickly lifted his eyes, reached out, and grabbed Roland’s arm. His pitch-black wings spread out overwhelmingly in that instant, their soft parts shielding Roland within. This would only draw them deeper into the vortex.

“Don’t be afraid…”

Roland murmured. The hurricane brushed past the human’s eyes.

“Stop it now!” The Black Book flew up directly. It frantically made glowing large characters scroll across its screen. “Roland, the out-of-control magic circle is taking you and the Demon King to who-knows-where. Even I can’t track it. Using the termination magic now might still be in time, but hurry—”

The Black Book seemed to freeze, like a computer crashing.

The situation took a sharp turn for the worse. Neither of them could think, only react with the most urgent response. Everything happened too suddenly, yet perfectly, to an incredible degree of coincidence.

The human, enveloped by Kriesmeier’s wings, revealed a smile.

That expression was by no means unexpected; on the contrary, it held the exact opposite meaning, and carried an obvious madness.

The smile quickly widened, and Roland couldn’t stop laughing for a moment. The “Nova” in his hand pressed against the ground, a blood-red trace silently spreading, echoing the power of the magic circle. Above his head, a bloody night sky slowly unfolded. The scarlet star solemnly and terrifyingly operated above the magic circle, silently swallowing the Demon King’s ankles.

The next second, the human and the Demon King vanished from the room.

Only the space containing the human and the demon shimmered with blood-red starlight.

Roland’s laughter continued until Kriesmeier’s scythe pressed against his throat. The Demon King quickly realized the fatal mistake he had made. The human in his arms was not the one who needed protection; instead, he was extremely dangerous. He was the culprit behind everything that was happening now.

But it was already too late.

The stars cast down radiant thorns, which, following the direction of the Archmage’s palm, pierced through Kriesmeier’s wings, pinning the Demon King to the spot like a specimen, rendering him immobile.

The incomplete Demon King could not resist the Archmage at full power. Kriesmeier struggled to summon his scythe. Although he obediently allowed him to do so, a pitch-black, ominous premonition gradually spread in his heart.

The demon’s vertical pupils stared at his prey with a chilling intensity.

“My dear, please don’t look so surprised.”

Roland blinked, tears of excitement making his eyes sparkle as if they had been washed with water. His voice, however, was affectionate. “You should have known a long time ago, I am a very selfish human.”

The moment his words fell, Kriesmeier struggled desperately, dark gold eyes burning with violent flames, almost incinerating the human on the spot.

However, his body was pierced by thorns condensed from stars, and all resistance was futile. Thorns climbed his long hair, and his pitch-black wings were mottled with blood. These wicked creations of the stars were craving something, neither his blood nor his soul. They seemed to want to delve deep into his heart and take his most precious possession.

“Despicable human,” the Demon King’s voice was deep and terrifying. “Unforgivable.”

“I don’t beg for your forgiveness,”

Roland knelt halfway, letting the scythe carve a long, narrow wound on his neck. His gaze was gentle and adoring as he gently cupped the demon’s chin, examining his expression mixed with anger and violence.

“Shh, I know what I’m doing, and I understand the price to pay. My dear, you’ve noticed the spell to erase your memories has begun to take effect, haven’t you?”

The formation completed right before the Black Book. Even if modified, it couldn’t completely transform into something else.

The array currently operating was indeed the one to erase the Demon King’s memories. The current situation was no more painful than before; only an endless emptiness spread through his heart, making his soul feel as if it were screaming in a fiery agony.

And Roland leaned down to kiss him, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

“Only…”

He said, “Forget a little more, and it won’t be painful. Kris, I really regret it. Even though it wasn’t anyone’s fault, I still feel like I made a mistake once. Shouldn’t I have taught you what love is? This is something I absolutely cannot give up; but if this is right, why must you feel lonely? Why must you endure despair for an unknown amount of time again? I swear I will never repeat that mistake.”

“—Liar!”

The Demon King, bound by thorns, was like a trapped beast, revealing his sharp fangs, blood clinging to his pointed claws, hissing: “This was not our agreement.”

He had already foreseen what the human was about to do.

However, Roland’s will was firm; in other words, he was extremely stubborn. What he had decided, no matter what, was difficult to reverse. The human had already rehearsed this day in his mind a thousand times over. His eyes always held a lingering shadow, yet he clearly felt no regret for it, nor the slightest waver.

“Angry? Hateful?”

He smiled again, “You must hate me terribly, right? You’re looking at me with eyes that want to tear me apart. I have only one wish: don’t look at anyone else with such eyes except me.”

“Roland,” the Demon King’s voice was bone-chillingly cold, “You will regret this.”

“You haven’t argued to the point.”

Roland curved his lips, leaned down and cupped Kriesmeier’s long hair, then as if talking to himself, “But soon you won’t remember this wish of mine either.”

Even the emotions of this very moment would be completely forgotten.

This was the effect of the oblivion magic, but it wasn’t its original intention. The magic was supposed to temporarily erase Kriesmeier’s memories of this world. The worst-case scenario envisioned by the Black Book was merely the Demon King having another decisive battle with the Archmage within the barrier. But the current Demon King had been subtly modified by the Archmage; he had become more sinister, and more powerful.

Roland found it hard to pinpoint when this thought first arose in him.

But he knew his desire grew stronger day by day. Kriesmeier had been abandoned for ten years, while for him, it was only a few brief days. The moment he saw the Demon King’s gloomy and violent eyes through the screen again, the human thought: Oh my god, what did I do to him? He should have sat coldly on his bone throne, overlooking everything, not gone mad and despairing, even fearful of his disappearance, all for the lingering trace of a human.

When he returned as a black cat, did Kriesmeier feel any better?

Roland couldn’t seriously consider this question. Waiting was just two light words; for him, it was also a brief moment, while the Demon King was repeatedly cast to the end of time.

Humans were good at explaining, but smooth talk only made things seem superficially glamorous. In the end, he and Kris were separated by an eternal, untouchable distance.

Then Kriesmeier tore through the world and came to his side.

Why was this? After a brief moment of ecstasy, the human had to seriously confront this question—because he disappeared again, although it wasn’t an unannounced departure, and only one night had passed.

One night, ten years.

If this was unbearable, what was the elusive, unknowable time?

“I’ve changed my mind,” Roland’s tone was intimate, as if he were whispering sweet nothings. “All that before was a lie. I never wanted you to remember me. Isn’t this the worst curse? When I appear before you again, you will remember everything you’ve forgotten, but before then, this is my truest wish.”

“—Don’t wait for me anymore.”

Forget all memories of me.

As the lord of the abyss, return to your lofty bone throne, looking down on all living beings in this world. Forget the roses I gave you, forget that there was once a human who whispered intimately to you, who one day covered his eyes because you called him “my dear,” a human with beautiful amber eyes who only spoke seductive words.

Until I find you again, remembering all of this is your burden.

I have come to realize this profoundly.

So, please forget me first.

In the pitch-black, seemingly endless space, only stars glimmered dimly. Roland knelt before the Demon King, kissing the blood from the back of his hand, also panting faintly in the gloom.

Time flowed relentlessly in this space. Kriesmeier might only have a faint consciousness left, but those dark gold eyes were like an unquenchable emblem, stubbornly staring at him, not even blinking.

“I love you,” Roland said, “Kris.”

A deeper flame ignited in his pupils. The Demon King seemed to turn into a statue in the boundless darkness, his cold, silver-grey long hair flowing down his shoulders, becoming an artist’s exquisite carving.

“Aren’t you going to say you love me too?”

The human was a little regretful. He sighed softly, “This might be the last time I hear those words from you. You know, manipulating memories is the most complex magic. It’s possible you might never remember me again.”

“Serves you right.”

Kriesmeier merely uttered these few words coldly from his lips.

But he was indeed swayed by Roland. Roland’s tone was light, yet his eyes seemed to hold an unfathomable sadness. The human knelt before him, pale and tottering. He was a madman, the Demon King reminded himself, yet he repeatedly tried to brand the other’s image into his heart, fearing the moment of forgetting would eventually arrive.

“Now you’ll feel very weak,”

Roland looked at this masterpiece he had created, unconcerned by the Demon King’s attitude, and chuckled vaguely.

“Didn’t I say your injuries haven’t improved at all? Returning to the Mirar Continent would only make it worse. Although I know this is just a matter of time for you, I despise that word right now, so it’s best to speed things up.”

The human’s hand cupped the Demon King’s face, then slowly moved downward like a snake, his fingertips finally resting on his heart.

He said happily, as if in a dream:

“My dear, if I give you what you’ve always wanted, an equivalent exchange, would you be willing to give me the demon’s heart as a gift?”

The last embers of the Demon King’s sanity still remained.

He looked at Roland and slowly said, “No.”

These words clearly fell into the human’s ears, making him even more pleased. Roland knew what the Demon King meant. Kriesmeier had clearly agreed to exchange gifts two days ago, but now suddenly changed his mind, not because he was unwilling to give his heart, but because he had a destructive desire for everything that was happening.

“That’s right,”

Roland murmured, “If you forget me, my gift won’t matter. Actually, this is just a wish I selfishly forced upon you, but even if you no longer remember the human you once sought, I still hope you won’t be lonely.”

Kriesmeier was unwilling to close his eyes, even when the human’s cold fingers pressed against them, the damp sensation fleeting. The human had no choice but to cover the demon’s eyes with his left hand.

Words burst from the Demon King’s lips against his will: “Stop.”

“…Don’t worry,”

The black-haired Archmage said soothingly, “It won’t hurt.”

The smell of blood reached its peak at that instant; it was human blood, the blood of the master who created this space. The Demon King’s eyes were covered. At this moment, his strength was so low that he couldn’t even move a few fingers, but his forehead could still feel the sudden chill of the human’s palm. He heard the sound of flesh tearing.

Blood flowed to his feet.

Roland maintained his vital signs with starlight. Regardless, attempting to remove one’s own rib with an ordinary human body was somewhat challenging. A while ago, he tried searching online and found cases where, with this world’s technology, mechanical replacements were installed in the chest cavity.

Crack.

The bone snapped with a crisp sound; the Archmage even heard a clear echo.

Given that this act was something no normal human would do, and to avoid unnecessary communication barriers, Roland decided to resolve the problem through purely magical means.

His face merely grew a little paler, yet his expression remained unchanged. He calmly pulled a snow-white rib from the tearing wound in his chest. The rough break was exposed, and blood dripped onto the ground, blossoming like scarlet flowers.

The moment the rib left his body, pure starlight surged into his chest.

He carefully manipulated the power, constructing a passable, makeshift framework within his body to ensure he could sustain life. Until he reunited with Kriesmeier, the word “death” was not allowed to enter the Archmage’s schedule. He knew his sanity wasn’t always normal, but who cared? He was already in love with an abyssal demon.

“Kris,”

Roland swayed unsteadily, then finally, trembling, removed his left hand from in front of the Demon King’s eyes.

He couldn’t maintain his stability in the latter half, so he didn’t know how much Kriesmeier saw through his fingers. When he destroyed himself, even his ears buzzed, and he seemed to hear Kriesmeier saying something to him.

Was it a reprimand, an insult, or another “I didn’t agree to forget you”?

Or perhaps it was the Demon King’s final words: “I surrender, I love you.”

In any case, the human now appearing before the Demon King had his entire shirt stained with blood and was still swaying, smiling.

“For you,”

The human lifted his eyes. “I should demand a return gift.”

However, to his surprise, the Demon King slowly opened his god-like eyes. The depths of his pupils were stained with a bloody emblem by the crimson before him, vaguely revealing a cruel, excited gleam.

Kriesmeier touched the starlight binding him, but didn’t understand its meaning. He realized his current weakness, and only then did the human, like a sacrifice, come into his view.

But it vanished in an instant.

It was just a fragile, vulnerable human.

“Who are you?”

Kriesmeier asked cruelly.

The human looked up at him blankly for a moment.

He seemed unremarkable, with dark hair neatly framing his face, and brown eyes. Perhaps he had seen him before, the Demon King thought, yet he felt he shouldn’t retain an impression of such a being. His gaze ultimately swept over the human with disdain.

“We…”

The human paused, realizing he couldn’t use any affectionate terms. “We have a transaction.”

He spread his hand, and the bloody rib lay across his palm. It was the act of removing it that had made the human so weak, Kriesmeier clearly realized this. The equivalent exchange contract shimmered faintly in the depths of his soul, irrevocably proving the truth of what the human said. But what use could this rib be to him?

As if hearing the Demon King’s cold thoughts, a giant golden scale suddenly appeared in the deep red, curtain-like sky. The human’s rib flew from his fingertips and was placed on one side of the scale, pulling it heavily downwards. Then, Kriesmeier felt the law of this space.

“You must pay to leave,”

The strange human spoke again. He stood before him, yet there was no fear in his eyes. The Demon King coldly glanced at him, then turned to examine the scale. If he were at his peak, he could naturally shatter the scale, but now he was inexplicably very weak, so he had to obey the rules.

“Greedy human…”

Kriesmeier said, “What do you want?”

In a short time, Roland had become the most wicked human in the Demon King’s words, but he didn’t much care for the evaluation he received. This time, it wasn’t that he deceived Kriesmeier, but that the Demon King simply didn’t care. The entire contract was completely under the human’s control; the so-called equivalent was actually the equivalent in the caster’s mind. At this moment, the other party stared at him with cold eyes, having realized this point.

The human standing before the Demon King suddenly smiled.

“Do you believe it?” he said. “You once promised to give me your heart. Exchanging a demon’s heart for one of my ribs, I don’t think that’s a bad deal. But from your current perspective, it’s clearly unfair. However, the contract has already taken effect, if I insist—”

The human took a step forward, leaned down to look at the bound demon, and reached out to touch his heart.

His fingers were cold.

The air in the space seemed to vibrate slightly, echoing the youth’s words. This meant that if it were such a gift exchange, the law would forcibly compel Kriesmeier to leave his heart.

This scene was very strange for the Demon King.

For some reason, Kriesmeier subconsciously avoided looking into the human’s eyes. He heard the sound of his own heartbeat, slow and undeniable. He clarified his situation, remaining silent about this law.

Then, the human’s fingertips suddenly withdrew from his heart.

Roland’s eyebrows curved, and his eyes suddenly sparkled with a bright light. The human pulled back his hand, fumbling backward with his fingertips. His face was pale, and he briefly closed his eyes from pain. Kriesmeier would no longer intentionally leave soft wings for him because it was him; those wings no longer served to protect him, but instead cut his hand.

He plucked a feather.

A pitch-black plume, with nothing special about it, its edges sharp, almost like it was made of metal.

“But I’ve changed my mind,”

Roland held the feather in his hand, smiling, even cunningly. “I lied to you again. I don’t want your heart, and there’s no need to leave it, Your Majesty, Demon King. In my heart, the value of this feather is no different from my rib.”

As the human’s words fell, the feather lightly floated to the other end of the scale. The moment the feather landed on the golden scale, it was like a giant stone had been dropped, weighing a thousand pounds. The scale swayed a few times from the immense impact and then reached its final balance in the gentle aftershocks.

The contract was formed.

Then, the scale disappeared.

Accompanied by golden light, the exchanged items appeared before each other.

Even the Demon King Kriesmeier was stunned by everything that had happened. However, he realized another thing: as the contract was formed, this space also began to collapse. Under the crimson sky, the stars wailed as they fell, and the thorns that pierced him shattered into dust on the ground. The human watched all of this happen quietly, smiling.

“This is truly goodbye this time,”

The human seemed to want to use another address, but ultimately said, “Your Majesty, Demon King.”

The silver-haired Demon King looked at him. The incomplete broken horn left a crimson mark in his eyes, and his pitch-black wings were as usual. Only then did Roland realize that his previous imagination was merely imagination. Facing the true waiting, that pain was enough to tear his heart apart. Had he really made Kriesmeier endure such pain all this time?

“Who exactly are you—”

The Demon King couldn’t help but take a step forward.

However, in the next second, the space completely shattered.

Roland felt dizzy for a moment. He felt his vision go dark, then realized he was standing in his shoes on the second floor of the “Zero-Distance Internet Cafe.” On the ground were the remnants of the magic circle, the faint night breeze could be felt through the curtains, and his phone was beside him, its blinking frequency alarmingly high.

There was nothing in front of him.

“I just did what I had to do.”

Roland said, “I’m not pretending I did it for his sake, or for some grand purpose. It’s simply because I’m a very selfish human, and seeing him suffer makes me uneasy.”

A long message from the Black Book flashed across his eyes.

Roland paused, then skipped those characters again. He first walked to the window, then pulled back the curtains. From this angle, he could only see a very small patch of night sky, and the dazzling lights of the modern city made it difficult to see the stars. But he could barely make out two faintly glowing stars.

The human quietly wiped his eyes.

Then, even those two stars blurred.