Salavira furrowed his brows, his eyes unblinkingly scrutinizing Asmodeus. He found himself increasingly unable to understand the person before him, whether it was the other’s attitude or words. Weren’t they supposed to be enemies? Shouldn’t they draw swords at the sight of each other? But why was the demon’s attitude so… ambiguous? Salavira couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated. Unfortunately, he had long forgotten the memories of his past life and didn’t know that behind those few lines recorded in the epic, there was such a complex entanglement between them.
He closed his eyes, gently shook his head, and suppressed those inexplicable emotions in his heart. When he opened his eyes again, they were filled with a chilling indifference: “Don’t interrupt. Tell me, where is Charles, the owner of this castle?!”
“…” Asmodeus remained silent for a moment, seemingly a bit disappointed, but he eventually answered Salavira’s question: “The owner of this castle? Ha.” Asmodeus curled his lips, “This castle has no owner. Since I arrived here, it has been unclaimed.”
Salavira was slightly taken aback, his scrutinizing gaze filled with distrust. But the demon’s expression was so open and honest, showing no signs of lying, that he had no choice but to believe—Charles was never here from the start. The so-called lord personally hosting the auction was probably just a ruse to gather everyone here, just like the legendary holy relic.
But… why? Salavira’s brow twitched violently. There were too many things that didn’t add up, and all the clues were a tangled mess, leaving him unsure where to start. But one thing he was sure of: the “holy relic” being auctioned tonight definitely had issues.
“Are you done with your questions?” Asmodeus suddenly spoke, “So now that I’m of no use, you’re going to kill me and return to those humans, right?”
Salavira’s brow twitched, and he replied coldly, “It’s none of your business.”
“…None of my business?” This sentence deeply provoked Asmodeus. His eyes instantly turned fierce, and he gritted his teeth so hard they made a grinding sound. He even grabbed the blade that was about to end his life with his bare hands! Blood dripped down steadily.
Asmodeus’s gaze was as if he wanted to swallow someone whole: “The third time, Salavira… why do you always do this?!”
Salavira gripped the dagger tightly, struggling against him, the veins on the back of his hand bulging from the effort. He was surprised by the sudden burst of strength from the person in front of him, but he could hear a hint of… grievance in the other’s tone?
“You…” Salavira started to say something, but as soon as he began, he found he had nothing to say to the person in front of him. Demons were meant to die. Leaving them in the world would only cause endless disasters. This was a fact that everyone around him had taught him since he was young.
Thinking of this, Salavira hesitated no longer. The black shadow behind him instantly swept forward, transforming into countless sharp blades aimed at the demon! But just as the blades were about to descend, Asmodeus, who had been firmly pinned down, suddenly turned into a black mist, enveloping the entire room, extinguishing the dim blue lights, and plunging the space into pure darkness.
Salavira was stunned, immediately reacting and channeling his magic to capture the demon again. But within just a few seconds, the darkness in the room disappeared, leaving only Salavira and the surrounding ruins. …He actually let that guy escape.
Standing in place, Salavira thought unwillingly. And at that moment, a clear and distant bell suddenly rang from outside—midnight had arrived. Tonight’s main event, the auction, was about to begin.
Salavira hesitated for a moment, biting his lip, and ultimately chose to attend the auction over continuing to search for the demon. As for Asmodeus… Salavira tightened his grip on the dagger in his hand. If that guy dared to cause trouble at a critical moment, he would definitely kill him.
…
As he stepped out of the closed room, the first thing that flooded Salavira’s ears was the overlapping screams of the crowd. He couldn’t help but frown, rubbing his ears that were aching from the noise. It was then that he suddenly remembered something and looked down at his clothes—although he hadn’t suffered many injuries earlier, they were all in rather suggestive places. Not only was there a long tear from the base of his thigh, but other parts of his clothing were also wrinkled and disheveled. Combined with his slightly messy hair, he looked less like someone who had just fought and more like someone who had been… with someone.
Salavira’s face turned red. He initially wanted to hide back in the room to fix his clothes, but then he heard some rather suggestive noises. It seemed like someone was doing… something somewhere. Shocked, he instinctively followed the sound, only to find that the noises were coming from the dance floor downstairs??
Salavira rushed to the corridor in shock, peering over the railing to see a chaotic, obscene, and filthy scene crashing into his eyes—many of the people who had been dancing properly at first were now, regardless of the surrounding chaos, engaging in intimate acts right there, with both men and women, and even groups of three or four…
The entire dance floor had turned into a massive brothel, with the once dignified nobles now like a group of uncivilized beasts, their minds filled with nothing but lust. Salavira only took one look before feeling like his eyes were going to go blind. But the good news was that if he returned to the dance floor in his current attire, he wouldn’t stand out. On the contrary, if he were neatly dressed, that would be strange.
After a long mental preparation, Salavira took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and finally walked down the stairs with heavy steps, inching along the wall to a corner, waiting for the auction to begin. When the clock’s hands reached ten past midnight, suddenly, with a “bang!”, all the lights in the castle went out, leaving only a chandelier in the center of the hall.
Immediately after, a round platform rose in the hall, with a gray-haired young man wearing a white mask standing on it. Clearly, this person was not Charles, the lord of Solent City. Yet, the crowd’s enthusiasm didn’t wane in the slightest, as their purpose was the holy relic being auctioned, not the unknown lord.
The young man gave a brief speech for the auction, and knowing that the gentlemen and ladies below were already impatient, he quickly ordered the auction items to be brought up, starting the first round of bidding. Salavira stood in a hidden corner, watching the items on the stage from afar. Although they were just accompaniments to the holy relic, these were rare treasures in the world, any one of which could ensure a commoner’s livelihood for generations. Yet here, they were casually bought by the nobles as if they were toys.
As for these nobles with such immense wealth… Thinking of them, Salavira frowned in disgust. Even though the auction had started, many of the nobles who had been lost in the sea of desire earlier were still engaging in intimate acts, their moans even drowning out the young man’s introduction of the auction items.
He felt a wave of nausea, frowning tightly and retreating further into the corner. But as he turned his head, he saw the demon he had been searching for earlier, sitting brazenly on a sofa, showing no intention of hiding at all?! When their eyes met, the other even returned a provocative look.
Salavira gritted his teeth, ready to summon his dagger. But then his gaze caught sight of a brown-haired, well-dressed young man sitting next to the demon. A… human?
“Sir, you’ve been staring at that lady over there for a long time. Could it be that she’s your sweetheart?” The young man, seemingly unaware of the danger, suddenly struck up a conversation. “Sweetheart?” The demon’s brow twitched at the word, and he graciously answered the young man’s question, “No, he should be my slave.”
It’s just a pity that before he could properly enjoy it, this slave backstabbed his master and escaped from hell. Even now, he refuses to return with him. Asmodeus’s expression gradually turned sinister. If it were anyone else, they would probably be scared off immediately, but the brown-haired young man, perhaps drunk or naturally bold, boldly scrutinized the demon’s slave.
After a while, he mused, “Your slave seems quite disobedient? In such a setting, he’s not serving by his master’s side.” Then, with a wicked smile, he added, “In my opinion, you must have spoiled him too much. This pretty little guy doesn’t have many scars, and even his clothes are as exquisite as his master’s.”
For the young man’s blatant covetousness, Asmodeus returned a fierce glare, his eyes filled with undisguised killing intent, the darkness around him stirring, ready to claim a life at any moment. Yet the young man showed no fear, instead daring to lean closer: “Sir, do you know? To tame a slave, you need not only candy but also a whip, and your…”
The last two words were spoken so ambiguously, but from the young man’s flippant expression, it was clear they weren’t anything good. “Sir, trust me, only then will your slave obediently listen to you.”
After saying these suggestive words, the young man immediately stood up and retreated a few steps. Although he maintained a polite smile, the slight tremor in his hand betrayed his true emotions. “Sir, I hope you’ll consider my words. Until we meet again.”
The young man gave a gentlemanly bow and quickly disappeared into the crowd. A strange human. Asmodeus glanced in the direction where the young man vanished, feeling a bit odd. But he didn’t dwell too much on the human, instead, the words the young man said lingered in his mind.
Candy. Whip. And… what? Asmodeus frowned in confusion, but when he looked up again, seeing Salavira’s slightly disheveled figure not far away, he seemed to suddenly grasp a bit of the meaning. He felt something hot in his heart, slowly breaking through the surface.