Alone in the tent, Sieg’s wails never ceased, collapsing motionless on the bed.
His pale face gradually regained color, his eyes revealing a sense of detachment, burdened only by the sorrow of the world. Being the Demon King wasn’t enough to kill him, but being completely drained was true. At last, he had experienced the true essence of Sage Mode.
“I’m dying, I’m dying, my kidney.”
“I’m dying, I’m dying, my foot.”
Meanwhile, within the Imperial City, the same words echoed, but spoken by someone whose voice was sweet yet tinged with exhaustion. It was Gerard, who looked strikingly similar to Emilia.
She slumped in her chair, motionless, letting her body slide down. Silently, she lifted her foot, her jade-like foot slipping out of the black shoe, steam rising gently from it along with the red marks of friction. It was clear she was suffering greatly under the Saintess training.
The morning sunlight poured in, illuminating the girl’s current form. Her silver hair was like snow, cascading from the edge of her pure white headscarf, falling gracefully down her beautifully curved back. The collar of her nun’s habit clung tightly to her swan-like neck. The black and white fabric wrapped around her slender waist, then elegantly flared out over her hips.
She raised her hand to her cold, dizzy forehead; the wide sleeve slipped down, revealing her pale wrist, skin as bright as moonlight. Looking downward, the corset’s lacing was tightened at her back, outlining a perfect waistline.
With each breath, her chest rose and fell slightly, the front of the nun’s habit faintly revealing the delicate contour of her collarbone. Her silver hair brushed over her shoulder, the tips gleaming like pearls in the sunlight. She pursed her lips, displeased as if recalling what had just happened—unhappy enough to kill someone.
She kicked off her shoes, exposing the faintly visible lines of her calves beneath the black skirt. Every curve exuded a blend of holiness and seduction. If Gerard hadn’t spoken, she would have been the perfect image of a nun.
“These bastards actually forced me to wear this nun’s habit. What the hell is this? Aaaahhh! Bastards! Making me dance around like this, all these godly talks, forgiving me, calling it a blessing—what kind of nonsense is that? Damn it! When I recover, I’ll make them pay.”
It was clear she hated wearing women’s clothes, but four hands overpowered two fists. She was dragged and forced into this outfit by the nuns, accepting this pitiful fate and, on top of that, having to endure Saintess training.
All those chaotic things and events—it was all inexplicable…
Anyway, she didn’t understand why but still followed along. Not only was there supervision and teaching, but she had been told that cooperation was more promising than using mugwort, though ultimately it was just a delaying tactic.
Her tender fists clenched unwillingly. If only she still had strength. If she had strength, she wouldn’t need to suffer this humiliation.
Of course, it was just wishful thinking. The only way she could regain her strength was through contact with Sieg, the Demon King. Unfortunately, she couldn’t even step out of the palace. Not a single step. She was constantly watched… Ole hated her so much that he kept a close eye on her at all times, afraid she might escape.
Being scrutinized like this was truly miserable.
“Sigh… This is so painful. Why do I have to suffer like this? I barely came back to life, barely got a second chance. It wasn’t easy—everything was perseverance and effort. Logically, I should have been forgiven, then be all lovey-dovey with Emilia, clingy forever.”
Her voice sank as she spoke, tearless but despondent.
“Why did it turn out like this? It shouldn’t be like this.”
[Gerard, you really are useless. We never should have had any expectations for you. Sigh.]
[Exactly, you’re an ironclad waste. We, the gods, shouldn’t have hoped for anything from you. We revived you, but in the end, you accomplished nothing and made us pay a heavy price, leading to… ]
[Defying the world’s will is an extremely dangerous thing. You truly disappoint us. Staying here, you can’t even touch Sieg’s fur, let alone regain your power. Disappointed, utterly disappointed. After half a year, the chance will be gone.]
Suddenly, the gods spoke inside her head, their chatter lively as if it were a festival, lifting her spirits somewhat.
Many gods spoke simultaneously, filled with complaints.
Gradually, from the murmurs, she understood everything. Gerard frowned lightly and sighed.
She grew impatient—she had no reverence for the gods, even though she had always been blessed by them.
“Hmph, you’re the ones who talk big without feeling pain. What do you want me to do? You gods revived me… then revived me as a woman and completely abandoned me. You didn’t even bother to help or give guidance. At least give me some direction, but there was none. So this is how it turned out. Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I don’t want to regain my power? To be with Emilia? Answer me! And yet you just shrug it off like it’s none of your concern.”
She was clearly sharp-tongued, quick to retort, even to the lofty gods, those distant beings.
Perhaps it was due to too much contact with them, or simply her harsh personality.
After a pause, the gods seemed to deliberate and eventually gave an answer.
[We understand. Continuing to argue with you is pointless. But we truly can only rely on you, Gerard. We will do our best to provide you with assistance and guidance to prevent such unpleasantness from happening again. I need you to contact Sieg immediately and reclaim your power. This is what you want and the only thing you need to do.]
The gods sounded helpless but urgent. They did not want Sieg to completely merge the Demon King’s power with that of the Hero, making the prophecy come true and sealing the gods’ fate.
Unexpectedly, Gerard treated their words like a joke, smiling faintly as she stretched lazily, ready to wash up and sleep. She couldn’t even leave the palace gate, much less contact Sieg to regain her power.
Her delicate hand covered her mouth as she yawned. Better to sleep early—everything is possible in dreams.
Slowly standing from the chair, silent, her jade feet touching the cold floor, she stretched again, preparing to crawl back into bed for a long sleep. After all, she was exhausted and likely had more things to deal with tonight.
The gods continued to chatter in her mind, unaffected by her silence. They were scheming something.
[It seems, Gerard the Hero, you do not trust our abilities.]
[Honestly, we can send you to Sieg’s side for ten minutes to perform your task, then you will be returned to your original place once time is up to avoid the backlash of the world’s will. Ten minutes daily is our limit. This is against the world’s will, and we can only do so much. We hope you won’t disappoint us again.]
After hearing this, she stopped, a look of confusion and bewilderment on her face. She tilted her head slightly, not understanding what the gods meant. Her pale blue eyes blinked once, and suddenly, the ground beneath her vanished.
It seemed a spatial rift appeared, and she fell straight down.
Where she was headed was unknown. Most likely, she wasn’t dead. Probably.
It was clear the gods had given her no time to understand.