Chapter 65: Style

The Demon Lord Castle was no longer just a simple temporary shelter outside the tent.

In the farmland, various kinds of plants were being cultivated.

Under careful guidance, it was gradually starting to regain the former grandeur of the Demon Lord Castle.

Though still far from perfect, it was a promising beginning.

Inside the tent, a feast had been completely devoured by Sieg, who now lounged leisurely in a chair.

Meanwhile, Emilia, the virtuous wife and nurturing mother, was washing dishes and utensils.

She wore an apron but glanced back with lingering unease at Sieg, who seemed utterly indifferent.

She wasn’t sure if he truly cared or if he just couldn’t bring himself to confront the issue head-on.

“That Sieg…”

But he seemed to see through her subtle worries.

Before she could finish her sentence, he casually finished it for her as if they shared a silent understanding.

“Enough, don’t dwell on it anymore. As for Gerard’s escape, whose fault it was doesn’t matter now. What’s important is that it happened, and we had no way to stop it. Since that’s the case, it’s better to move on and not waste time regretting or apologizing. I’ve been through worse—hanging by a thread, limbs broken… I know that instead of wallowing in remorse and pain, it’s far more meaningful to act, to make up for the mistakes. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words when facing the consequences.”

“I understand. Then I’ll start acting right away.”

It was clear that Emilia was quite obedient.

She nodded gently, then put down the dishes, ready to continue building the Demon Lord Castle.

But Sieg stopped her—not to hinder her, but because he stretched lazily and finally woke up from his lethargy.

“Wait.”

“Time to show what it means to be the Demon Lord.”

After all, things had come to this point, and he could no longer afford to slack off.

With a crisis looming, he had to be at one hundred percent—no more slacking off, not even wasting time.

How pitiful.

The tragic world of Hakimi.

“Sigh, I have to work hard too. I’ll go with you.”

There was no other choice.

Originally, Sieg had planned to watch the construction and growth of the Demon Lord Castle from the sidelines, not interfering until it could stand on its own.

Otherwise, the flowers in a greenhouse wouldn’t survive the wind and rain.

But now the situation was different.

This was his last chance to make a comeback.

Miss it, and there would never be another.

“All right, Sieg. It’s really great that you’re helping.”

Emilia’s mouth twitched into a small smile, clearly happy.

Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his, holding them close to her chest.

After all, with Sieg’s help, many problems would be solved easily.

Plus, they’d be spending much more time together.

Recalling their earlier conversation, she felt a little awkward but quickly composed herself and spoke from his perspective.

“But this does mess up your original plan, and I’m sorry about that. I know what you’re thinking, Sieg—you want the Demon Lord Castle’s development not to rely too heavily on external forces. Otherwise, it would collapse at the slightest touch, or fall apart if it becomes too dependent on one person. I promise I’ll try my best to avoid that.”

As she spoke, she took his hand gently and skillfully, as if everything was natural and effortless.

Seeing this, Sieg had nothing to say.

He glanced down at the arms tightly entwined around him, unable to move.

She was so understanding, so sincere—he might as well indulge her this once.

After all, there wouldn’t be a second time.

But as they say, once there’s a first time, there’s always a second, and then more.

Tolerance only grows higher.

Silently approving her behavior, Sieg scratched the back of his head with his only free hand and lightly shook his head.

His flowing hair danced in the breeze.

“Let’s go. After all, this is a rare opportunity. Let’s see if we can come up with some new ideas for the Demon Lord Castle before Gerard returns.”

Now, the Demon Lord Castle faced a far more urgent crisis.

More serious than food shortages or water supply issues—it was the existence of Gerard himself.

Like the Sword of Damocles, his presence hung ominously overhead, ready to strike at any moment.

At this moment, Sieg no longer dared to call him “little boyfriend.”

He used Gerard’s real name instead, knowing Emilia disliked the nickname and he didn’t want to say it anymore either.

Unconsciously, the two lonely hearts slowly drew closer.

The two of them wandered out of the tent, hand in hand.

Outside, the militia was training in the square.

With no proper coach, the militia looked lazy and listless.

Their training was simple: stabbing, slashing, and hacking—back and forth, over and over again.

Seeing this, Sieg broke free from Emilia’s blue-silver embrace.

He took off his shirt, revealing his strong muscles, and prepared to become their coach.

The head coach was warming up, ready to step in.

Though Sieg had no experience teaching others, he still remembered the training methods from his past.

He even once served as a training dummy himself, so he knew firsthand what was effective.

He was confident he could use these men without any problems.

As for whether the intensity would be too much?

That wasn’t something he worried about—after all, he was still alive.

He gathered the lazy militia and stood atop a platform, shouting loudly.

He was truly getting into character.

“Look at you all now! From this moment on, endurance training starts!

Carry twenty kilograms and run five kilometers, swim five kilometers once a day for over an hour.

Then strength training: pull-ups, three hundred sit-ups, one hundred and fifty repetitions with fifteen-kilogram dumbbells.

Train like your life depends on it.

Even if you die, I’ll bring you back, so don’t worry!”

He pulled out resurrection totems from his pants and stuck them on the militia as a precaution.

At the same time, he took out various items from his demon tribe days—things full of memories from the past.

One by one, he laid them out, leaving the militia dumbfounded.

How could all these things fit in his pants? Was he even human?

They weren’t shocked or complaining about how cruel or impossible Sieg’s training was—mostly because they didn’t understand it yet.

Once they fully experienced it, they would understand.

After all, Sieg wasn’t a demon in the usual sense.

He was just a harmless demon, busy organizing the training ground, drawing lines, digging a swimming pool.

In no time, everything was set up, all thanks to persistence and hard work.

The once relatively empty square now looked complicated.

Those with magical talent or who were divinely favored were singled out and handed over to Emilia for special training.

These precious gems didn’t need to train like the others.

Their task was to maximize their strengths.

That’s the advantage of talent.

Those without talent could only train like this.

“Emilia, I’ll leave these to you for proper instruction. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“No problem. But isn’t this a bit too much, Sieg? Maybe we should ease their training load. I’m afraid they won’t be able to handle it.”

Even Emilia thought it was excessive.

This wasn’t training—it was risking their lives.

She hesitated to voice her concern, but Sieg gave an irrefutable reason.

“These people will face monsters and even humans far stronger than themselves in the future.

They have no talent and must rely on effort.

The more they train now, the less risk they face later.

This is for their own good.”