Chapter 28

Chapter 28

“What did I do wrong?”

“Haven’t you been acting like you’re tired of me?”

“……”

“I’ve been trying my best to be good to you. It might not have been enough for you… If you had told me what was lacking, I would have accepted anything. But you didn’t acknowledge my efforts.”

“Is this really because I called that bast@rd Zephyr instead of you?”

“I don’t want to repeat the same mistake twice. I regretted that I might have been considering things only from my perspective again. So, I thought about what you might like…”

‘Did she really grow leg hair that even a Yeti living in the snowy mountains would envy?’

Valen lifted her skirt slightly. On closer inspection, the hair looked like fluffy puppy fur. But why were her legs black-haired when her head was silver? When asked, she replied with the disappointing answer, “The only remaining magic potion was black.”

A deep sense of defeat was evident on Argen’s pale face. The fact that Valen called Zephyr seemed to have been quite a shock, as the shadows under her eyes grew darker. Had she not been sleeping well?

The entire situation was absurd, but it didn’t particularly bother him. In fact, it was rather amusing. It seemed that enduring all sorts of things in the demon realm made him more compassionate.

‘Was it really such a big shock that I took Zephyr along?’

A chuckle escaped his lips, and a smile spread across his face. Valen clicked his tongue briefly and picked up the razor from the bedside table.

“Since you went through the trouble of preparing it, I’ll shave it for you.”

“No, it’s not necessary.”

“Stay still.”

“Just cut it off. It’ll grow back anyway.”

“Stop saying such horrifying things.”

Living through this… he’s experienced everything. Who would have thought he’d end up shaving a succubus’s leg hair?

“Why did you make such a strange misunderstanding and bother me?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise gift.”

“What kind of lunatic would like something like this?”

“…I never thought you were crazy.”

Argen muttered, turning her gaze away.

“You did think about it.”

Seeing her not denying it and just looking away made Valen’s cheek twitch. This was ridiculous. No one in the Demon King’s castle was sane, so why call an innocent person crazy? Valen didn’t recall the things he had done in the castle.

In the end, he couldn’t fulfill his role as a consort that night either. He spent the entire night shaving off the thick leg hair. Argen, leaning against the headboard, sat with her head hung low, looking utterly defeated.

  *

Demons were a reclusive group. Although books about demons were published daily in the human world, they were filled with speculative imagination.

Three months of confinement in the Demon King’s castle.

Valen had come to a realization. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he finally acknowledged what he had been denying all along.

The reason why countless human sacrifices failed to extract military information about the demons.

It was…

“Good morning, No. 38! But today, we’re busy preparing for a party, so there’s no training.”

There was nothing that could be called information among these creatures.

A sea without salt, a dry well. It wasn’t that the demons were meticulously and thoroughly preventing information from leaking out; there was simply nothing to extract in the first place. It was the ultimate secret-keeping strategy, and from a human perspective, it was foolishly chasing after nothing.

Strategy? Tactics?

There was no way those who went on expeditions carrying lunchboxes instead of swords would have such things.

In the human world, it was common to forcibly conscript men past adulthood to form an army, but here, they strictly adhered to their workdays.

They even had the concept of annual leave, so as long as they reported before noon the day before a war, they didn’t have to go to battle. Was war a joke?

However, for nearly 30 years, since the human world declared full-scale war against the demons, all annual leave and vacations had to be forfeited. Since they were used to living in a flower field, their dissatisfaction was bound to reach the sky.

Valen gazed at the empty training ground with a complicated expression. The warm noon breeze blew, and an abandoned sandwich wrapper rolled leisurely across the ground. His eyebrows twitched upward, and a vein stood out on his forehead.

If it were his unit, he would have immediately summoned the soldiers for a mental training session until sunrise the next day. Who was the careless fool that left trash behind?

Even the weapon storage was a complete mess. Where there should have been bows, there were two wet socks, and swords were haphazardly placed without regard to type.

To think he meticulously planned strategies against such sloppy opponents.

A demon soldier, oblivious to Valen’s thoughts, casually checked his watch.

“Are you going to stay here? I need to go inside to help with the party preparations.”

“Why is a soldier preparing for a party? What are the servants for?”

“Of course, everyone helps out. But it’s our youngest’s first relationship, and this party wasn’t originally planned.”

For a moment, Valen couldn’t understand the soldier’s words and frowned. Listening carefully, it sounded as if the soldier was considering the position of a mere servant.

Weren’t servants the lowest class? They were expected to come running even in the middle of the night and, despite never having wielded a wooden stick, were dragged to the battlefield as human shields if needed. They were regarded as little more than talking livestock.

Come to think of it, the servants he encountered in the Demon King’s castle were all quite chatty. The mere fact that they could speak freely without fear was an enormous privilege. The only ones who seemed subdued in the castle were the kitchen staff, whom Valen disciplined.

“I really need to go now. You should come to the party too. It’s at the tavern in the East Wing basement.”

“…Not in a hall, but an underground tavern?”

“Yes. There’s plenty of good liquor, so make sure to come and drink. Oh, by the way, I noticed you haven’t been with Lord Argen lately. Is it because you’re busy with work? I heard she’s not attending the party today either.”

This was news to him. She spent the entire night with him yesterday, so why didn’t she mention the party? He felt something indescribable twisting inside him. Who spent the entire night shaving her ridiculously thick leg hair?

Argen insisted on trying it herself and took the razor, but instead of cutting the hair, she was slicing her skin. Just before the bed was about to be covered in blood, Valen couldn’t stand it any longer and took the razor back.

“They say a man and a woman are one, but if you don’t come, many will be disappointed. You’re the one who brought the youngest and Lady Arachne together.”

‘It’s just a contractual relationship, who said anything about being a couple?’ There was no need to listen further. Valen turned coldly and left the training ground.

“…His suddenly looked mu!rd3rous.”

The soldier, rubbing his arm as if he had goosebumps, headed towards the East Wing.

  *

“I’ve spent a whole week staying up all night to develop this new dish! It’s called ‘Grilled Abalone of Passionate Courtship!'”

On a white plate, finely chopped abalone was arranged in the shape of a heart. It was garnished with sprout vegetables and yellow edible flowers. Valen gazed at the offered dish with indifferent eyes. In contrast, Enrit clasped his hands in front of his chest, eagerly awaiting feedback.

“This is the first dish to be served at the party. What do you think?”

Valen glanced around, preemptively locating something that could be used as a makeshift club, and then picked up a fork. He put a piece in his mouth, and it didn’t taste bad. The nauseating stench had long since disappeared, and there were times when he would get angry, thinking, “What the hell is this taste?” but not now.

When Valen nodded, Enrit visibly sighed in relief.

“Thank goodness. I feel like I could cry right now.”

“All this fuss just because one soldier is in love.”

“While it’s partly to celebrate, it’s also because it’s been a long time since we’ve had a party. Everyone’s just excited. Oh, I heard Lord Argen won’t be attending.”

Valen put down his fork with a loud clatter. ‘Why does everyone know that Argen isn’t attending?’ For some inexplicable reason, it irritated him. Enrit, oblivious to Valen’s mood, was elated that his carefully crafted dish had been acknowledged.

“You’ll come to the party, right? They say a man and a woman are one, but many demons will be disappointed if you don’t attend. I would be too.”

How could they all say the exact same thing without missing a word? It wasn’t even funny. Why should he consider the feelings of demons when deciding whether to attend a party?