Sunrise and sunset, another repetitive day came to an end.
The people of the Demon King’s Castle put down their work in an orderly fashion and returned to their temporary residences, planning to rest well to face the tasks of tomorrow.
A trace of eeriness lingered in the night, but the blazing light inside the tents dispelled it, leaving only the pleasant chirping of insects.
“It’s getting late, rest early, Emilia.”
Unable to help, Sieg could only offer words of encouragement from the side. He had no means to intervene or offer useful advice, so he simply slouched beside the freshly dug sofa.
Though the surface was covered in dust that magic couldn’t fully cleanse, it was still incredibly comfortable.
He wasn’t one to fuss over such things—if it was comfortable, that was enough.
Yet the silver-haired girl remained unmoved, likely too engrossed in her work to notice her lover’s words.
Her delicate hands kept writing without pause.
Murmuring to herself in what sounded like complaints, she muttered, “No, no, there’s so much to do, planning and arranging…”
After all, every matter in the Demon King’s Castle weighed heavily on her shoulders. She demanded meticulous involvement to avoid unnecessary waste or hidden risks.
Only when she was overwhelmed would she delegate tasks to others. She regarded this place as her only home, and naturally, she worked hard to ensure no risk could befall it. Any danger had to be preemptively avoided.
Sieg didn’t know what to say. He stood frozen, scratching his head and swallowing nervously, stroking his chin as he pondered the situation.
In the end, he couldn’t come up with a solution—or perhaps helping her was truly the best way.
This was genuinely his blind spot. It seemed he needed to learn more about these matters in the future, at least enough to understand the gist.
If nothing else, he didn’t want to be clueless to the point of being a hindrance. Otherwise, whenever problems arose in the territory, only Emilia could handle them, which would be embarrassing.
Though he had lived for over a hundred years, he had forgotten many things. No, he should say he only vaguely remembered them.
Most of his life had been wasted on searching for people and training. After becoming the Demon King, he hadn’t taken any management courses because the old demons handled administration and organization.
The Demon King only needed to train, strengthen his power, or go to the front lines to fight. The old demons had more things to consider, to be frank.
If those old demons hadn’t been there maintaining the castle’s operations, Sieg himself might have been a figurehead by now.
Thinking back, a flicker of nostalgia crossed his eyes—that time… it really was something to miss.
He sighed quietly, a bit helpless. The past was the past, nothing more to say.
After all, those demons were all dead…
Snapping back to reality, he noticed the girl wandering back and forth in front of him, finishing up her work.
She silently put down her pen and tidied the desk until it was spotless.
Perhaps realizing the hour, she lifted her crimson eyes to the moon through the torn hole above.
Moonlight reflected in her eyes, making them sting painfully—a sign of eye strain—yet she was also drawn by the sorrow of her lover sitting alone behind her.
She turned back to look at Sieg, who was slouched on the sofa in a state of despair.
He looked off, sighing intermittently, his expression filled with pain and discomfort.
Could it be that he was recalling some unpleasant memories? As his wife, she felt compelled to comfort him.
Besides, she looked forward to the night’s life.
She smiled faintly and slowly approached, teasing and swaying before Sieg.
Her actions were extremely alluring, a practical application of what she had learned from books on how to tempt men, mimicking every move.
She raised her hand to undo the seal on her chest, lifted her skirt, and sat directly on her lover’s thigh.
Though her movements were awkward and stiff, she still managed to complete the gesture.
This was hardly in line with the image of a saint, nor did it reflect her upbringing.
But this very awkwardness gave her a unique charm that made it impossible to resist.
Since the two of them had grown closer, Emilia had fully let herself go.
Of course, this was only in front of Sieg. With others, she was respectful or disdainful as the situation required.
Their bodies pressed closely together, she whispered in his ear—half temptation, half demonic murmur.
“It’s late, Sieg. We should rest. You can’t be so concerned about what’s happening here. I know you’re doing it all for me. You promised to take me home, but going home isn’t important to me anymore. Whether I go home or not doesn’t matter—I only need you by my side. But don’t worry, I’ll keep working hard for the Demon King’s Castle. After all, what you hope for is what I hope for too.”
She thought he was saddened by the castle’s decline, causing their plan to return home to fall through.
Instinctively, she comforted him while revealing a genuine thought—not out of vanity, but because he had admitted it himself.
The melancholy Sieg was jolted awake by her actions.
His mind, as always, was unfocused. He neither rejected nor accepted immediately, as if entering a different state to contemplate life itself.
His gaze lost its impurity and desire, replaced by clarity and innocence.
Looking at this one woman he could trust, all barriers and suspicion faded.
He asked questions only the two of them could talk about.
He voiced the burdens he had kept hidden, ones he had never faced—perhaps out of fear.
Before, he had relentlessly pursued the goal of going home, seeing it as the end of his life, unwavering in the face of doubt or contradiction.
But now, facing the topic again, he no longer felt anger toward Emilia, nor any reason to be extreme, nor any lingering attachment to the old world.
His entire being was blank, and with disbelief, he spoke what was in his heart like a captain suddenly lost at sea, panicked and desperate for support.
“Emilia, do you think we can go back? After we return, will it really mean anything? Is it really necessary? Going home… for my parents, for the saying ‘falling leaves return to the roots,’ for you…”
His tone was calm and plain, the obsession with going home long gone.
Time had shattered past desires, blurred old memories and feelings.
He couldn’t even bring himself to say his own name from his previous life.
He had always used bringing his brothers home as a symbol, but now, she no longer cared either.
Did doing all this really hold any meaning?
“Yes, it does. I know you’re serious.”
Without hesitation, Emilia replied seriously.
She stared straight into her lover’s dimming eyes and gently cupped both sides of his face with her slender hands.
They gazed at each other, speaking words heavy with emotion, syllable by syllable.
“Because I know, you’ve always been serious about going home. No, from the start, you genuinely wanted to go home.”