Ah… Spoke without thinking—words with no regard for consequences.

Lying on Olga’s lap, gazing at her face flushed with anger and a hint of shyness, Rean let out a wry smile inwardly.

No matter how he weighed it, he shouldn’t deepen ties with her. His goal was unifying the Demon Realm. If Olga’s identity slipped out even slightly, he’d be unable to clear his name. Before winning hearts, the entire Demon Realm would brand him a traitor. Crushing dissent by force would only make him a feared tyrant—utterly opposed to Rean’s ideals.

So… abandoning her and running really was the best choice?

…

Nah. No regret pills exist. And even if he fled now, Olga would chase him down instantly—who knew what chaos would follow.

Recalling the golden light pillars that had rained down like a torrential storm, Rean’s head throbbed. His expert bullet-dodging left him unscathed, but Olga clearly held back. Try running again in front of her? Next time, it wouldn’t be rain—it’d be a barrage of light cannons.

Besides, bolting before finishing business would seriously cost him face.

“Time to get up and handle things… Whoa, close call.”

Rean pushed up from the ice chair, nearly slipping back onto Olga’s lap—but steadied himself just in time.

“Things? What things?” Olga asked, watching him adjust his clothes with a puzzled look.

“Don’t tell me you forgot why we came to town.” Rean smiled, tapped his chest. A cold glint flashed in his eyes. “Time to drag out that scum who used the Ifrit seal to frame the kids.”

Whoever dared scheme on his turf would pay. Targeting children had crossed Rean’s last line. Until that person was eradicated, his fury wouldn’t settle.

“You’ve located them?” Olga stood abruptly—but Rean gave no clues. Instead, he slightly spread his arms.

Nine orange points of light glowed on his chest, forming a tiny sword shape… missing its tip, looking oddly incomplete.

“While you rested, I checked the seal. The medium—‘Fenrir’s Fang’—was split into ten. We have nine fragments. Where’s the last one?”

“The culprit has it?”

“Exactly. If they truly aimed to use the seal, they’d keep one fragment to monitor the situation.”

Rean lowered his arms. The power of Gluttony resumed devouring the fragments’ raging fiery energy. The lights dimmed.

Even he couldn’t relax holding nine fragments. He had to constantly channel magic to contain the foreign energy—let it spread internally, and the pain would be excruciating.

*Sigh… If only I could stash these elsewhere.*

If the seal’s magic array didn’t destabilize outside his body, he’d have dumped this tipless sword into his pocket dimension long ago. Why endure this strain while moving?

“I see. So we track the matching magic energy nearby.” Olga nodded, eyes sharpening.

“Right. But time’s short—suppressing this energy drains magic fast. I can’t hold much longer… What’s wrong?”

Rean noticed Olga’s expression deepen. A chill crept up his spine.

“Nothing. Just helping with tracking.” A faint blush rose on her cheeks. Like a predator, she circled behind him, cutting off escape. “So… take off your clothes. Let me feel the fragments’ magic fluctuations.”

“No need! I’ve got it!” Rean instinctively refused, stepping toward the alley exit—*at least she won’t cause a scene in public…*

“Whoa!”

His retreat was blocked. Before he could decide on magic, Olga closed in, hand hesitantly reaching for his shirt.

“I warn you—don’t get ideas! Don’t think I won’t touch you just to avoid clashing with the Celestial Realm! And physical assault is cheating!”

Her fingers drew nearer. Rean’s panic spiked. *Is she strong-arming me now, then using the kid as leverage later? Since when are angels this scheming?!*

“Just—stay there! Don’t touch… And don’t tear my clothes! They’re expensive!”