“Birand, do you think we’ve grown old and stupid?” Hyeok’s glance was a knife of frost, his smile thin as ice on a winter pond. “You found a little girl reeking demonic aura and call her the Demon King?”

The other delegates watched like cold crows on a bare branch, eyes hard, breaths thin as smoke.

Clearly, Hyeok had tossed a pebble into the still pond of their doubt, and ripples showed.

“Even if this girl is the Demon King, why would she come to you?” Hyeok’s voice was steel under velvet, his gaze a winter blade. “You’re the Hero, the one who ended her life. You think I’ll swallow whatever you say like a fish at bait?”

Birand looked at Hyeok, half smile, half sigh, like rain that wouldn’t fall. “Hyeok, stop looking through tinted glass, like dusk that makes everything seem false.”

“We came to talk alliance against the Celestial God’s revival,” Birand said, shrugging like a man dusting snow. “The Demon King’s our ally because she’s also that god’s mortal enemy. We both know which mountain stands taller.” He tilted his head, eyes sharp as a hawk. “Or did you miss that sunrise?”

That faint killing intent in Birand’s eyes was a sheathed blade, quietly pressed to Hyeok’s throat, telling a fool to hush like wind snuffing a candle.

Silence fell like ash, yet disbelief still hung like mist that wouldn’t lift.

Birand spread his hands in helpless rain and looked to Eli.

Eli met him for a heartbeat, eyes steady as stars, then glanced to Edlyn, who sat with a cool smile like a frost flower.

Edlyn nodded, then stood, her motion a stem rising through snow.

“Losers, my identity isn’t for ants to doubt,” she said, her voice a bell over thunder, her aura surging like a storm clawing free of clouds.

Hidden horns pushed through like pale crescent moons, and bat wings unfurled like night opening its cloak. To keep her Succubus form veiled like a moon behind gauze, Eli worked Stellar Mimicry in secret, dressing her in Fallen Angel radiance like dawn on black feathers.

The rush of demonic aura and killing intent hit like a hot wind off desert stone, and faces shifted like leaves in a sudden gale; eyes cooled, doubt sheathing like a sword.

Birand nodded, satisfied, like a craftsman hearing true tone. “You think those Demon Race alone seized a human empire’s lands that vast?” His smile cut like sleet. “Use your heads. Their high command revived, and the tide turned.”

“Birand, you know so much it’s like fresh tracks in new snow,” the Dwarven leader growled, his brow a knot of roots. “Did you fail to slay the Demon King back then?”

Edlyn’s pretty face went stone-cold, frost sealing a lake from shore to shore.

Eli stepped in front of her like a wall of dark pine, ready to catch sparks before they found kindling.

“How could that be?” Birand chuckled, a flint flicking in the dark, eyes sideways like a fox. “I’m more curious how certain people managed to return from the grave like weeds after rain.”

He didn’t look at Edlyn when he said it; his gaze held Eli like a needle through silk, steady and invisible.

No one here was a fool; attention shifted like a flock, landing on the young man whose face mirrored Birand’s like water mirrors sky.

“This isn’t your clone?” the Dwarven leader asked, frown creasing like dry earth.

“Of course not,” Birand said with a summer-breeze smile. “This is my half-self.”

“Isn’t that still a clone?” Orek blurted, words stumbling like a drunk in snow.

Hyeok jabbed his elbow at his friend, a quiet shove like a shepherd’s crook.

Eli smiled, calm as moonlight on a well. “No need to overthink. You can treat me as Birand’s clone for now. Our enemies and goals align like two rivers joining. For now.”

Birand lifted a shoulder, a gull over gray waves. “Then… take it as that.”

Foreheads creased like folded fans; each mind hid a flicker like a candle behind a screen.

A retainer leaned to Manstein, whisper soft as moth wings. “Your Excellency Bishop, it’s been brought up. Shall we?”

“Mm. Bring it,” Manstein said, nodding like a quiet bell, trading a glance with Birand like two chessmen agreeing on the next move.

Birand faced the chieftains, smile playful as a cat flicking its tail. “All right, everyone. The thing you most wanted to see is about to appear. Heart pounding yet, like drums before battle?”

No one answered; their silence was a field before lightning. Birand shrugged, helpless as wind in empty sleeves, and gestured for the retainer to bring it in.

They saw something like a handgun from the real world, an iron shape as stark as a crow in snow.

Eli paused, surprise flashing like a fish in deep water, eyes narrowing at Birand like a hunter testing tracks.

He knew the thing; he’d feared Birand would ride ignorance like a thief on night wind and pull a fast one with empty hands.

Birand glanced his way, a look crisp as a snapped twig, and Eli understood like dawn clearing fog.

“What can this toy even do?” the Dwarven leader scoffed, jumping down like a rock from a ledge, lifting the iron piece and cutting air with it like a dull blade.

“Don’t look down on it,” Birand said, smiling like a lantern behind rain. “It hits holy aura hard, like acid on silk.”

“Oh?” The Dwarven leader frowned, doubt a knot in his beard like burrs.

“And this is the smallest offensive device,” Birand said, voice easy as flowing water. “I’ll show you the superweapon later. For now, see it bite.” He turned to Edlyn, gaze warm as coals.

“Your Excellency Demonic Lord, infuse it with demonic aura, then pull the trigger,” Birand said, smile neat as a blade in a sheath.

Edlyn frowned, eyes flicking to Eli like a skylark to its tree. He stayed still, calm as stone, so she nodded and lifted the iron block like a dark fruit.

Demonic aura flowed into it like ink spreading through paper, slow and sure.

Birand stepped aside; a holy barrier blossomed from him like a ring of dawn-light, circling him in a glowing halo.

“Come then, Demonic Lord,” he said, smiling like a man under summer rain. “Try to hit me.”

Edlyn hesitated, fingers stiff as twigs; she didn’t know this thing’s bite or its bark.

Her gaze asked Eli for help like a sparrow tapping glass; Eli smiled, stepped in, covered her hand like a glove of night, aimed at Birand’s brow, and pulled the trigger.

Bang! The shot cracked like thunder under a low sky.

The bullet drew a black streak through the air like soot on snow, then smashed into the holy barrier like a hammer on glass.

At the first touch the thick barrier unraveled like silk meeting flame; a half-heartbeat later it punched through like rain through rotten thatch.

The round drove for Birand’s forehead, a wasp for an eye, fast as a knife flick.

Birand raised his hand with impossible speed, like lightning grabbing lightning, and pinched the bullet between two fingers.

He smiled, easy as a campfire. “You’ve got faith in me, like trust thrown across a canyon. Weren’t you afraid I couldn’t catch it?”

“If you couldn’t, that’d be better,” Eli said, shrugging like a leaf letting go. “Saves me the trouble later.”

Birand turned to the stunned crowd, their faces pale as winter lamps. “You saw it, my allies,” he said, voice ringing like iron. “This is only its first form, and it strikes like this. Do you still not trust me?”

The room held its breath like a forest before snow.

He’s a hustler,” Eli said later, grinning like a fox in moonlight, holding Edlyn on the bed like a warm ember. “I’ll bet you eighty percent he won’t show the true Godslayer Weapon then.”

“Why so sure?” Edlyn frowned, the crease a petal folded in chill.

“I know myself,” Eli laughed, the sound water over stones. “Birand’s head carries more revenge than mine, but we’re the same river. He’d find an excuse to trick you.”

“Trick me?” Edlyn’s confusion was a tilted bird’s head, bright and wary.

Eli nodded, eyes glinting like stars in a well. “Or trick the Demon Race.”

“Uh??” Her breath hitched like a kitten’s paw on ice.

“Mmm, let me ask another way,” Eli said, smile lazy as smoke. “How would it work after it’s upgraded?”

“Just pour in demonic aura and fire it,” Edlyn said, brows knit like reeds in wind.

“What if only that one piece works like that?” Eli’s grin curled like a cat’s tail.

“Uh…” Her thought paused like a step over a stream.

“I’m giving an example,” Eli said, voice a soft brush. “Truth is, he doesn’t want you to crack its build. Or your Demon Race would be unmatched under heaven, like a hawk without chains.”

He tapped her small nose with a finger, light as a moth’s kiss.

“But…” Her protest was a thread of rain, thin and warm.

“What but?” Eli’s eyes danced like sparks. “Don’t tell me you didn’t use spiritual sense to feel its guts while feeding aura. I don’t buy it.”

“Tch.” Edlyn pouted, lips a cherry under frost, mood dim as dusk.

“Haha, all right, all right,” Eli said, patting the air like calming a skittish colt. “Nothing for us for now. Do what you need. Get ready. A hard fight’s brewing like thunderheads.”

Edlyn hesitated, words gathering like dew. “Eli, are you from another world?”

“You don’t like me anymore?” Eli made a mock-crying face, tears pantomimed like raindrops on a mask.

“No!” She punched him, light as a playful bird pecking grain.

“Then you like me,” he said, grin bright as sunrise on snow.

“Hey, you—!”

“Okay, okay.” Eli hugged her tighter, arms a warm ring like a hearth. “Back to the point.”

“Are you?” Her voice was a moth near a lamp, soft and drawn.

“What’s there to ask?” Eli sighed, breath a long tide. “Of course.”

Maybe she cared about this, he thought, and his heart dimmed like a lantern veiled in mist.

“Will you go back to your old world?” Edlyn bit her lip, eyes misting like rain over glass.

“Uh… no,” Eli said after a blink, words easy as wind. “I’ve got no ties left there, like a boat cut loose.”

“Good,” she murmured after a pause, her voice a leaf settling on water.

“Little one? What’s this? Tears?” Eli teased, his tone a warming candle.

“No!” Her denial flared like a spark.

“Your nose is red,” he said, smile wicked as a fox.

“No!”

“Your eyes shine,” he said, gentle as moon on a pond.

“I said no!”

“Okay, okay. No, no,” he said, hands up like empty sky.

“…”

“…”

After a quiet stretch like snow falling, Edlyn looked up, eyes clear as morning. “Tell me how you came to this world, and what happened then.”

“Oh? You want a story?” Eli smiled, voice a low fire in the dark.

“Mm…” Edlyn nestled in, her whisper a silk thread, warm as breath in winter.