“Hey, Demon King, what, you don’t welcome mortals as guests?” Irina dropped onto the sofa like it was her home, a stone settling in a quiet pond.

Ouyang kept his face calm, iron-flat. Inside, a tide of unwelcome rose and crashed, but a lord can’t let waves show on the surface.

“Flatboard girl, go find your bestie fast. Stay here too long, and I won’t promise nothing won’t happen.” His tone was a cold blade; the threat hung like smoke.

“Flatboard?” Irina’s mouth opened, then stalled, words snagged like a fish on a line.

“That line… savage.” Amelie leaned on her sword like a reed in wind, her sudden quip slicing the eerie silence.

“Aah! You bastard! I’ll fight you! You said I’m flat—my parents wouldn’t dare!” Heat flushed Irina’s face; she surged forward like a storm, ready to tear Ouyang to shreds.

Kooson chuckled, big and warm, a bear watching a scuffle. Amelie didn’t move either; two Demon Kings sat like theater patrons. Kanofia and Fei, just mortals, tried to react but their bodies lagged like slow bells.

Before Irina hit, a black barrier blossomed. Around Ouyang, hexes locked together, a hive of shadowed tiles, a cage of night.

“Hmph. Stupid mortal. You dare test the Creator’s dignity?” Ouyang’s scorn was frost on stone, his gaze treated her like an ant under sun.

Irina lifted a hand to claw the barrier, but her sister and Fei caught her wrists, thin branches stopping a wild cat.

“Ouyang, Boss, you’re basically hacking. Is that okay?” Kooson looked helpless, smile crooked. Not long ago, he’d only touched a god’s descent. Now Ouyang was sprinting toward the Realm God’s gate.

Truth was, if Xi’s contract hadn’t fully dissolved, Ouyang could never climb back to the highest tier. But after the Emerald Mountain affair, the altered Xi cut the bond. In the Rift between worlds, the black wings he won lifted him like night wind to another sky.

Irina stared at Ouyang, hesitation pooling like dusk. Then she breathed out.

“Demon King, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Mm?” Surprise pricked Ouyang. This hot-tempered flatboard girl using a plea felt like snow in summer. He wasn’t one to promise lightly, but for a familiar face, he’d hear her out.

“Take in my sister.”

“Huh?”

Question marks flickered in Ouyang’s eyes like fireflies. What was this? The flatboard girl pitching her sister? He glanced at Kanofia; resignation lay on her face like shadowed lace.

“You sure you didn’t take the wrong medicine? Tossing your sister into a pile of Demon Kings—are you really her elder?” Even after storms and tempests, Ouyang doubted her motive; the whole thing smelled like rain before a quake.

Kanofia tried to speak, but Irina pulled her behind like a hen shielding a chick. “You Demon Kings don’t fear the Light Church. Only here can my sister find a place to breathe.”

Her words hit like a dropped drum. Even Fei and Amelie blinked, caught off guard.

“I need the details.” At the name Light Church, Ouyang’s thoughts tightened like a net. He’d guessed the shape; now he wanted the proof.

“In our family, every newborn gets a priest’s blessing and baptism. When my sister was born, that priest said she carried an evil scent and should be burned at once.

“My father refused. He secretly executed the priest. Every servant who knew was put down. We thought the matter buried under snow. But not long ago, a Light Church archbishop passed through Terracafe…”

By then, everyone saw the road ahead like tracks in fresh mud.

“Because of that old incident, Father warned her for years never to touch the Light Church. She rarely appeared in public, a moon behind clouds. But fate likes cruel timing. The archbishop still noticed. He called her evil incarnate and said she must burn on the stake.

“Father wanted to shield her, but under the Land of Light and the Light Church’s pressure, he’s standing on thin ice.

“So-called evil can’t be worse than you Demon Kings. If no nation can shelter her, then let the truly evil keep her, and at least she lives. Besides, with you here, she won’t be bullied.”

Ouyang couldn’t help it: Who gave you that confidence? Do I look like a softie? The questions fluttered like moths, but they meant little. He had to serve this little ancestor anyway. If she smiled, maybe, when her memories finally merged, she’d spare him.

“Ouyang, please.” The Empress kept resisting the Land of Light’s demand to hand over my sister. But our kingdom can’t fight that mountain. For Xi’s sake—please.”

The girl who loved to bad-mouth him knelt, knees thudding like a drumbeat on stone.

“I know. The Land of Light, the Light Church—they’re ants to you Demon Kings. If so, shelter my sister with a flick of your sleeve. She truly has nowhere else.”

“Sis…” Kanofia moved to lift Irina, but Irina stayed stubborn, roots deep. Without Ouyang’s answer, she wouldn’t rise.

Arms crossed over his chest, Ouyang stood calm as a tree. He looked at Kooson. “Little Ko, what do we do?”

“Me?” Kooson blinked, caught like a deer in lantern-light. “I think… Irina’s actually pretty decent. Boss, why not take in her sister?”

It was the answer Ouyang expected. Time plants seeds; Kooson had spent long days with Irina. Of course he’d speak for her.

“Girl, you?” He turned to Amelie. In the old days, she’d ignore him for that tone. But strength has gravity; now she swallowed her dislike like bitter tea.

“The Divine Realm is our enemy. The enemy’s enemy is our friend.”

Short words, sharp edge. Ouyang heard the point. Whether contracts or old blood-debts, Demon Kings and the Divine Realm would never cool. The Light Church is the Divine Realm’s lapdog. If they target Kanofia, then to disgust the Divine Realm alone, they’ll shield her.

“Goddess of Light, Krafias. Interesting. Then I’ll take her in. From today, you’re a resident of the Demon King’s City.”

“Thank you.” Irina bowed deep, like a willow touching water.

“Kooson, you’re allowed to meddle when the Land of Light and the Karosen Kingdom go to war. Keep it subtle. I think Irina can judge the line better than you.”

His words lit Irina’s eyes like dawn. Between the lines, she heard the move: the Demon Kings might step into the war. If so, the Karosen Kingdom might not be crushed.

“Flatboard girl, go notify Jelinka. Have her come to my Demon King’s City to talk.”

“Jelinka La Yedi, the Grand Princess? How do you know her name?” Her sister’s already Empress; Jelinka naturally became Grand Princess. The La Yes clan and the La Yedi house are deeply linked; the Empress protecting Kanofia told the story.

Ouyang lounged, stretching like a cat in sun. “Back then, when I was just a simple scholar, I met her. For an old friend’s sake, I figured I’d help this kingdom.”

Irina didn’t buy his purity, doubt like a film over her eyes. But the hour was urgent; choices had thinned like ice.

“I know. I’ll notify Her Highness Jelinka. Please help our kingdom through this disaster.”

“Have you considered the stain? Your kingdom might get branded ‘lapdogs of the Demon Kings.’ That pits you against the continent.” His smile curled, a fox in snow; it made Irina’s skin prickle.

“So what? We’ve got no choice. If your rule makes the world better, then being lapdogs of Demon Kings isn’t shame. In the end, we mortals want peace, soil where life is steady.”

Her words startled Kanofia and Fei like birds from a branch. Fei thought back. Time with Amelie had been good, warm as spring. The legend says Demon Kings will end the world. In Amelie, Fei hadn’t seen the scent of ruin.

She’d stepped into the Demon King’s City—birds and blossoms, races mingled like colors on a festival kite. None of it matched the face of destruction.

She knew many mortals were brought here by force. Yet on those faces, she saw little resistance, only lives weaving into a new loom.

“Words like that aren’t off the cuff.” Ouyang’s smile turned playful, like light on water. “You must’ve discussed with others. Do your words represent the La Yes clan? The La Yedi royal house? The Karosen Kingdom?”

Irina held his gaze, steady as a lit candle. Then she nodded, slow and sure.