Ha… They really do have a knack for showing up at the worst possible moment.

Rean chuckled wryly to himself.

Lord Mayor of Yethania, Count Tyler Adams—if his memory served, the elderly man before him was indeed him. From that weathered yet upright face and the rumors he’d heard over the years, Rean pictured him as an old noble who genuinely cherished his people. Probably not too difficult to deal with.

Besides, the fact they could spare someone to find him meant the rest of Mammon’s troops had likely been wiped out.

“I am Tyler Adams, Lord Mayor of Yethania. Your timely aid in our hour of peril saved Yethania from ruin. Such a debt is beyond repayment.”

Tyler, leading the group, bowed deeply. The soldiers behind him followed suit in unison.

What a hassle… Knew it’d turn out like this…

Rean, never one for formalities, felt a familiar headache brewing. Back in Christine, it was always the same—whenever he casually helped, townsfolk would shower him with tearful gratitude. Yet as a member of the Demon King’s household, he couldn’t skip the decorum. So he’d paste on a stern expression, mutter “No need for words,” and escape swiftly.

He believed in basic courtesy toward decent people—but being met with such deep bows still left him awkward.

“I’m Rien Schumel, an adventurer who arrived just yesterday. Your Excellency flatters me. I’ve visited Yethania before and hold fond memories of this place. Naturally, I wouldn’t want to see it harmed.”

Rean shook his head with a wry smile.

Hearing this, Tyler’s last worry eased. Decades of life had honed his judgment—and Rean’s expression held no trace of deceit.

From the city walls, Rean’s eyes had been cold, ruthless—a monarch gazing down on ants. Now, mask removed, his face was clear and gentle as he gazed toward Yethania. At the very least, he was no enemy of this city.

“Then… after casting such a wide-area spell, you must be weary. Please rest within the city. I’ve arranged a victory banquet—your presence would honor us.”

“Thank you, but please just call me Rean.”

Rean nodded with a slight smile.

“Haha! Then Rean, let’s head back!”

Tyler laughed heartily, ordering the troops to reverse formation. With Mammon’s forces utterly annihilated, every step felt lighter. Mood, it seemed, shaped movement as much as fatigue did.

Approaching the battlefield outside Yethania’s gates, most soldiers had already returned to spread the news. Only scattered corpses, discarded weapons, and cleanup crews remained. A hollow emptiness washed over Rean.

Beyond these fallen… how many more had vanished completely under his hand? Tens of thousands of lives, erased like dust. Undeniably cruel.

Yet… no joy. No nausea. Even though they hailed from the Demon Realm, pity or guilt refused to surface.

Were they simply enemies? Or was there just… no meaning to grasp?

If this was merely to draw Mammon’s attention and step onto the front lines… the cost felt too vast. Hollow.

Sometimes he saw the irony: his journey’s first stop, now the stage for his scheme. To bring slaughter before a city filled with warm memories—what face should he wear?

If possible… he truly wished war would never tarnish this place.

A flash of pure white caught his eye. Rean turned.

Cang Lin stood at the city gate, her gaze fixed firmly on him.

So she’d noticed already…

“Your Excellency, I have personal matters to attend to. May I take my leave?”

Rean turned back, expression apologetic.

“Ah! Of course, Rean—do as you wish. You saved Yethania. How could this old man restrict the hero’s movements?” Tyler nodded hastily. After witnessing Rean’s power, awe now rivaled gratitude. He’d never dare refuse.

“The banquet invitation will be sent to your residence. Please honor us with your presence.”

“Certainly. I’ll attend. Thank you.” Rean bowed slightly. “Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

Parting from Tyler’s group, Rean let out a long sigh of relief. No more stiff, formal speech. A small comfort.

Now then…

“Been waiting long?”

Circling the battlefield, Rean reached the gate and waved to Cang Lin.

“No… not really. We didn’t plan to meet.”

“Yesterday you said the world is round—we’d meet again.” Rean chuckled softly at her flustered look. “Seems it *is* small.”

(Though he’d expected it. He’d never say that aloud.)

“That’s only ‘cause I didn’t leave the city.”

“But we both ended up on the battlefield. That’s fate.”

Cang Lin fell silent, lips pressing into a faint smile before she turned her face away, slightly flustered.

They walked side by side through Yethania’s streets. Smiling refugees carried luggage home, reassured. News of Mammon’s defeat had spread; those who hadn’t fled far were already returning.

“I never imagined such a massive force would fall to you in two moves. You’re the city’s hero now.”

Cang Lin murmured, watching the revived streets.

“Don’t call me hero. I didn’t act for glory—I’m not that noble.” Rean waved helplessly, shaking his head with a self-deprecating grin. “And if you hadn’t warned them to fall back, our own side would’ve been caught in the blast.”

*Hero. Justice-bringer.* Odd words from the Demon King’s son. Young Rean once dreamed of them. But time and experience showed him he’d never be a hero fighting for “justice”—not because he was a prince of the Demon Realm, but because his heart had shifted. He’d let that dream go.

Still… helping cost little. His mana would replenish in seconds. And he’d seen Cang Lin’s blue sword firsthand.

*Instant freeze on contact?* Intriguing. What other secrets did it hold?

“Well, I recognized you through the mask. And yesterday, Olga’s warning saved me from your lightning,” Cang Lin said with a mock frown. “But… for these people, someone who protects their home *is* a hero.”

Seeing Rean’s awkward wince, she smiled again. He grew flustered—the word “hero” stung more than he’d thought.

“Don’t focus on me! You helped too, Cang Lin!”

Rean knew: Aidan’s surprise attack came overnight. Tyler’s focus was the gates—if not for that, Rean would’ve been summoned. He’d gone after hearing refugees’ cries. Same for her. No request. Just choice.

“As for me…” Cang Lin lifted her head, expression softening. “I just couldn’t bear seeing people forced from home for reasons beyond their will.”

*Reasons beyond their will…*

Connected to why she traveled alone? Rean linked her words to her past confession. He knew speculating was rude—but his mind pieced it together anyway. Still, he’d never bluntly ask like Olga.

“That sounds exactly like you,” Rean smiled. “You’ve always seemed like someone who cares.”

“M-Mmph! D-Don’t say weird things out of nowhere!” Crimson bloomed on her cheeks. She shook her head vigorously, gaze darting away. “A-Anyway… isn’t Olga with you?”

Rean’s smile froze.

*Just had a moment’s peace from that airheaded angel… why bring her up again?*

Last night flashed back: savoring meat and wine, then—*that* drunken girl pinning him down, stealing his first kiss. Waking up with zero memory. If not for his new house and that exquisite sofa…

“She drank too much. Probably still passed out.”

Rean let out a cold “Hmph,” nose wrinkled in disdain.