“Hmm…”

Rean frowned slightly at the scene before him.

The air carried an eerie blend of herbal scents. Several young children lay unconscious on beds, their faces flushed crimson. Their chests rose and fell violently—a silent testament to their agony—perfectly mirroring the anxious expressions of the men nearby.

After leaving the forest, Rean and Olga had followed the men to Quinn Town, the first stop on their planned elopement route. Yet their purpose here had shifted: no longer escape, but understanding why these men braved monsters born from clogged ley lines to enter the woods.

It seemed tied to the children…

“Are these your children? What’s wrong with them?” Rean turned and asked.

“The first fell ill seven days ago, sir,” the man who’d brought them stepped forward, voice thick with worry. “Fever came first, then weakness, then unconsciousness. One after another followed. Fearing plague, we gathered the children here and went to harvest ice serpent blood from the forest… But it’s no lasting solution. We don’t know who might fall next.”

*His own child must be among them,* Rean thought. *One ice serpent’s blood won’t stretch far…*

Ice serpent blood—naturally frigid blue, cold as a third-tier ice spell—was commonly used by non-magical Demon Realm residents to chill items. But as Rean examined the children, something felt off. They didn’t look frail. Reaching out, he flinched: their skin burned scorching hot, nearly reddening his palm.

*No disease causes this heat. Something unnatural is at work.*

*Most likely… No. Don’t jump to conclusions. A wrong guess could spark panic.*

“Olga, come take a look. Any insights?”

“You’re so capable—why bother me?”

“Less talk. Lives are at stake.”

Rean cut off her grumbling complaint and firmly pulled her to the bedside.

“Could you be gentler… Wait. What’s this…?”

Olga fell silent the moment she saw the children. She tested a forehead, then froze, eyes locked on the child. Rean glanced sideways—her pupils had lost focus, glowing faintly gold.

[Observation Magic: Eye of Deconstruction]

Visualizing magical flows and attributes within sight—usually for scouting, but useful for diagnosis too. Golden motes swirled in her eyes, mapping the children’s condition. Seconds later, her face paled.

“Any theory?” Rean murmured, keeping his voice low.

Olga gave a slight nod. “I’m not deeply familiar with the Demon Realm, but I’ve read the texts. Should be correct… You suspect it too, don’t you?”

“Shall we compare notes?” Rean raised an eyebrow. “Three.”

“…Two.” Olga hesitated, then pursed her lips.

“One.”

“Flame Demon Ifrit.” x2

They spoke the name in unison.

Ifrit—the fire beast sealed by the first Christine deep within the Demon Realm’s Eternal Frost. Less threatening than the Gluttony Behemoth Rean had slain, yet its flames could vaporize a person, rivaling Behemoth’s breath. Without Gluttony’s power, even Rean wouldn’t dismiss it lightly.

*Right. If it’s truly Ifrit’s influence, ice serpent blood is useless. Freeze them solid—they’d thaw in half a day.*

“But why would Ifrit, sealed in the Eternal Frost, affect Quinn Town on the border?”

“That demon was sealed by my ancestor,” Rean frowned. “Setting aside who could even reach the site—do you think magic exists to move it here silently?”

“Impossible. I’ve studied that permafrost. Only there can contain Ifrit’s flames. Removed, it awakens within a day. No one controls it outside the frost. If it were here… this town would be ashes.”

“So?”

“You know so much. Can’t guess the method now?” Olga shot back dryly.

“I’ve read grimoires, but I can’t know everything. Asking questions is a good habit.”

“Tch… There *is* another possibility.” Olga’s glare softened as her eyes caught the crowd behind them.

More than just the fathers now—people filled the space to the cottage door. Every gaze held desperate, silent hope.

“If they moved not Ifrit… but its *seal*… that could extend its influence here.”

“Bingo. Sealing magic needs a medium. Transfer the medium—it carries Ifrit’s heat and magic. Clearly, fragments were placed inside these children. But the Eternal Frost’s cold suppresses Ifrit even if the seal weakens. Hence… no outbreak.”

“You said you didn’t know! Then why explain it so perfectly?!” Olga glared. Moments ago he’d played the humble student; now he wore a teacher’s smug nod—and infuriatingly, he was right.

“Fortunately, the burden is shared. Otherwise, we wouldn’t see them alive.” Rean wiped sweat from a child’s brow, his expression hardening. “I’ll find who did this.”

“But how to save them *now*? They won’t last. Finding the culprit won’t bring them back.” Olga bit her lip.

“There *is* a way. Transfer the seal’s medium—from them… to me. They’ll recover. Help me. At this range, we can do it fast.”

Olga watched Rean prepare the spell, hands frozen.

*Is this truly the Demon King I imagined? Brutal? Tyrannical? Those images shattered against the man before her.*

“Are you really willing to go this far… for strangers?”

“They’re not strangers. They’re Christine’s subjects. I am Christine’s Demon King. Protecting my people is my duty.” Rean’s voice was calm. “If you won’t help… I’ll do it alone.”

*Snap.*

Olga seized his wrist—so hard skin cracked.

“Hey… Don’t resist me now…”

“I’m with you.” Her whisper stunned him.

“Worried about me? Ridiculous, I’m—”

“Half each. Whatever it is… I bear it with you!”

She lifted her head. Her eyes shone with pure resolve.

Rean’s heart skipped.

*Damn… this heart-fluttering feeling…*