"Your own choice, huh..." Noah gently touched his chest, letting out a soft sigh before speaking in a playful, tender tone.

"Didn't I already answer this last night? What's wrong, *Demon Lord*~? So worried your precious one might run off with someone else?"

As he spoke, Noah leaned down, slowly cornering Ledyah against the wall. His half-exposed, soft curves nearly pressed against the maiden’s petite frame.

"N-no, it's not like that, I—"

Ledyah stammered. This Lich maiden, ancient and cunning after nearly three millennia of life, seemed to lose all eloquence before the human she cherished most. Her gaze darted away, avoiding his.

Noah’s body radiated warmth and softness. Ledyah’s mind went utterly blank—no coherent thought could form. Her eyes began spinning like pinwheels.

*Why did I blurt out such a lovesick, teenage question?* she scolded herself. *I’d never act like this normally... How do I even fix this now?*

Overwhelmed with shame, she longed to vanish into the floorboards, unable to meet Noah’s eyes.

But avoidance was impossible. Noah’s jade-like fingers lifted Ledyah’s delicate chin, locking their gazes.

In that dazed instant—he closed the distance. His lips claimed her rosy ones.

"Mmph!"

Ledyah’s eyes flew wide. Her ample bosom pressed against his chest, the tender friction making her breath hitch erratically. She tried to gasp for air, but Noah deepened the kiss, stealing her breath. All that escaped were weak, muffled whimpers—like a helpless creature being teased.

"Hah... hah..."

When their lips parted, Ledyah panted heavily, head bowed. Her dark crimson eyes still held a trace of dazed haze.

Nothing could affirm her existence as a maiden more than that kiss. She felt profound shame for doubting Noah just moments ago.

A single, searing imprint had erased all her unease and suspicion—a vivid proof that his vow to her remained unbroken.

Yet the fiery kiss left her flushed. A familiar dampness threatened to return between her legs. She clamped a hand over her nose, peeking up cautiously at Noah’s smiling face.

"Demon Lord, really now~," Noah chided softly, fingers tracing his exposed collarbone with pride. "Doubting your wife’s resolve is quite naughty. As I said last night—I’ll stay by your side. No matter how this love began, my feelings for you hold not a shred of falsehood." He declared his devotion like a trophy, tail swaying happily.

"Then... why?" Ledyah pressed.

Though reassured Noah wouldn’t leave her, she studied the dragon maiden before her: the jade-carved horns, the wings folded against her bare back, the tail wagging excitedly. Curiosity flickered in her eyes.

"Ah, this?" Noah’s tail swished even faster. His answer had been decided long ago, the moment he broke free from his cocoon:

"I am not them—but they are part of me."

"Whether it’s the Holy Maiden’s duty or my family’s longing... these belong to *me*. I won’t abandon them. I won’t run."

"One day, I’ll make amends to everyone and everything I hold dear." His voice softened. "Until then... will you walk beside me?"

His tail swayed gently. Starlight shimmered in his pale blue eyes as he waited—not demanding, not promising. Simply inviting the one he loved to share his path.

"Of course."

Ledyah’s cheeks still burned, but her reply held no hesitation.

A calm smile spread across her face as she touched her racing heart.

Somewhere along the way, she’d begun treasuring this girl more than anything—cradling this tempestuous soul within her own heart.

At her answer, Noah’s face bloomed into a radiant, dazzling smile—a smile so genuine and luminous that Ledyah found herself momentarily spellbound.

"Hm?"

A telepathic communique jolted Ledyah back to alertness. Noah froze mid-reach, sensing the shift.

"*Demon King*," Beatrice’s voice echoed in her mind. "*Lord Silva approaches with a two-thousand-strong force. They march down Irusil’s main avenue toward the capital. Awaiting your orders.*"

Ledyah’s expression hardened. The gravity of the situation crashed over her.

...

Night draped over Irusil as usual—orderly, vibrant. Demon Race citizens strolled the streets, laughing under lantern light before heading home at curfew.

But tonight, sleep would elude the capital’s denizens.

Silva’s army advanced like an immovable mountain; like a bull in its prime. Each step shook the city’s foundations, rattling buildings in their wake.

No one dared block their path. Not even patrols challenged them—only scrambling to call reinforcements. Yet before troops could gather, the ironclad column had already reached the foot of the royal castle.

The assault was too sudden. No one had time to react.

Silva strode at the vanguard, hands clasped behind her back. She tilted her chin up, gazing arrogantly at the towering Demon King’s Castle—already treating it as her spoils.

"Halt."

A magic bullet detonated beside Silva in a storm of shrapnel. Fragments tore into the lead demons—but not a single cry of pain sounded. Their march didn’t falter.

Silva stopped. Though her frame was slender, she stood like a fortress gate barring the army’s advance. She lifted her gaze higher, cold eyes locking onto the castle’s highest spire.

There stood Tower Knight Beatrice, anti-materiel rifle leveled.

Four Magic Cannons on the inner walls swiveled in unison, barrels converging on Silva alone—as if eliminating her would dissolve the entire threat.

"Silva," Beatrice’s voice cut through the night, glacial and lethal. "You commit treason by marching troops into Irusil—and now you dare assault the royal seat." Even battle-hardened soldiers shivered at the killing intent dripping from her words.