Under the night sky, a gentle breeze drifted past the entrance of the library, carrying with it the fragrance of flowers and the cool scent of grass and leaves. The moonlight on the stone steps was soft, enveloping the area in a hazy, otherworldly glow. It was as if time was gentle music, and the people passing by couldn’t help but pause to listen.
Talia sat motionlessly on the steps. She had been there the entire day. After the sky darkened a hint further, the library’s massive, heavy door opened. Lance finally emerged, cradling the large tome in his arms. Although Talia had her back to him, she tilted her head ever so slightly.
"Huh?" Lance briskly walked over when he noticed a familiar figure. He was quite relaxed as he sat down beside Talia at a comfortable distance. "You’ve been waiting here for me this entire time?"
Talia stated expressionlessly, "This is in accordance with our agreement. I took your money, so I will naturally carry out what is asked of me."
She then caught a glimpse of the book in Lance’s hands. This young man had been so engrossed by it that he had spent the entire day at the library. Now, she finally knew exactly which tome had captured his attention.
This guy likely intends to become a lawyer or a judge. He truly fits the spirit of a human who is the epitome of a law-abiding citizen.
Lance gazed at Talia, who was sitting as still as a dignified, serene statue. He suddenly realized that she was probably hungry after standing guard here all day long. "Did you not eat yet?"
Talia merely cast Lance a somewhat displeased look that tacitly confirmed his assumption. Her interpretation of their deal was more rigid than he had expected. Perhaps it was due to her pride as a demon princess?
Lance paused awkwardly, revealing a sheepish smile. "Uh... Well, I happen to be getting ready for dinner myself. Would you like to join me?"
"There is no need. I shall leave once you return to the manor." Talia rose to her feet, clearly hinting to Lance that they should set off immediately. She refused to accept any sort of charity from a human.
"I was at fault today. From now on, I promise I will always let you know in advance exactly how long I intend to stay here," Lance explained earnestly and apologetically. "So, as a form of compensation, allow me to treat you to a meal."
However, Talia merely stood there impassively, as if she had not heard a word he said.
"The manor has the finest chef in this entire city. He specializes in the unique regional delicacies of South Vantina. And he only uses the finest and most carefully selected ingredients. I guarantee it will be a culinary experience you would be hard-pressed to find anywhere else. He also makes the best Mango Cream Mille Crepe, Hazelnut Mocha Egg Tarts, and Premium Strawberry Mousse Cake..."
As Lance rambled on, Talia’s eyes flickered with a faint, almost imperceptible trace of emotion. Then she frowned.
"No need," she said coldly. She turned and walked down the steps without a backward glance at Lance.
Just moments ago, Lance’s words had lingered in her ears. They were like the whispers of a devil, utterly rife with temptation. For some inexplicable reason, she had felt as though she had been transported to another lifetime. It was as if a great demon strategist was standing right beside her. If only she could secure his undivided devotion, then he would surely aid her in restoring her fallen kingdom...
That couldn’t be right, though. This young human, who was clearly a goody two-shoes, bore absolutely no resemblance to a demon. Sure enough, her long-held obsession with restoring the Demon Kingdom ran too deep. That was all this was: an absurd illusion born of longing.
"What a pity." Lance stood up and brushed the dust off his trousers. With the hefty tome of laws and regulations under one arm, he followed after her with a smile on his face.
Although Talia remained as aloof as ever in accordance with her nature, Lance had noticed something. He recalled coming across some work materials in the past that delved into Talia’s character. In the game, she had a strict routine. She adhered to a strict diet and trained accordingly. Every day, she would get up early, jog, meditate, and take cold showers.
However, Lance clearly recalled a specific detail mentioned in a very obscure passage of her backstory that hinted at something more: She abstains from sweets. However, on those rare occasions when she does allow herself the indulgence of a dessert, she only eats the very finest.
It was a remarkably subtle fact, but he couldn't help but infer something from it. Could it be that Talia was, in fact, a closeted glutton, one who lived in fear of succumbing to those very appetites?
A demon’s greatest weakness lay in their insatiable desires. If a malevolent foe discerned these cravings and exploited them, it could drive even the strongest demon into a frenzy. Therefore, the more powerful a demon was, the more keenly they understood the necessity of curbing and concealing their desires.
Lance grinned inwardly. Demons really are such a fascinating race.
***
The sky over the border city had grown a few shades darker. Beneath the veil of night, the Wilford residence appeared exceptionally radiant. Crystal lamps illuminated the courtyard, while bright light spilled forth from every window.
A middle-aged man was sitting in a spacious and elegant study on the second floor. Although streaks of gray had begun to silver his temples, his commanding presence remained undiminished. He wore an exquisite, classically styled suit, and every hem and lapel was perfectly in order. Beside him, the butler was pouring tea.
They could hear footsteps approaching from the outside. A moment later, the study door slowly opened. A youth with black hair and green eyes appeared in the doorway, and his expression was tinged with a hint of bewilderment. He had just returned home from the library and finished dinner. Before he even had a chance to retreat to his bedroom to set down the books he had checked out, a maid had summoned him to the study.
"You're finally here." From behind his desk, Noel Wilford, Lance’s father and the master of the estate, leaned back in the chair as he scrutinized Lance. He had been waiting in the study for a decent amount of time.
Lance responded in a calm, composed manner, "My apologies. I was unaware that you wished to see me today."
Noel nodded. He had anticipated that Lance would be home late. What he hadn't expected, however, was for his son to walk in holding a copy of The Legal Code of the Kingdom of Hutton. Furthermore, that book had the distinctive mark of the city library on its cover.
He had assumed that his son would only return home after becoming completely plastered. Instead, it turned out Lance had gone to the library to read. That was startling enough, but Noel was a bit perplexed as to why he would choose to read such a dense book.
For now, at least, Lance could almost pass for a dignified cleric or scholar. But there was something else beneath it, faint yet unmistakable: the aura of a man who could pass judgement on the living and the dead.
As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Noel pinched the bridge of his nose. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.
His dissolute son had absolutely nothing in common with the clergy or academics. Frankly, it was already a miracle that he hadn’t been lured away by a cult. In fact, there were times Noel had genuinely worried that Lance could fall under the influence of one.
In the worst-case scenario, he would end up a fanatical zealot, pledging his allegiance to a malevolent bishop. On the other hand, Noel was certain that Lance simply didn't have the guts to go anywhere near that crowd, who were darker than darkness itself.