Looks like today’s main character has arrived.

"Good day, Miss. Have you been waiting long?"

Rien approached the mansion gate with a cheerful grin, opened the door, and bowed exaggeratedly before the fuming Gloria. "Good morning."

"It’s nothing. I just got here too…" Gloria replied almost on instinct, then froze. "No! I’ve been waiting *forever*! Why doesn’t your place even have a gatekeeper?!"

Rien knew she was lying. The barrier had alerted him the moment she arrived—he’d wrapped up his tasks immediately. She’d stood there less than a minute. How could she have waited long?

Still, he wouldn’t call her out. Making a lady (Olga excluded) lose face was hardly gentlemanly.

"I’ve only been in Yethania three days, Miss. Hiring a gatekeeper simply hasn’t been possible yet. Please understand."

"Hmph. Explain however you like. I thought after last night you’d vanish and never dare show your face again. Instead, you had Father *insist* I come see you today—and wait outside? Bold. So… what’s this about?"

Arms crossed, Gloria glared, clearly still simmering over last night.

She wasn’t wrong. Rien *had* asked Tyler to arrange this meeting—a matter critical to how Yethania would face Mammon moving forward.

"Let’s talk while we walk."

Rien smiled, locked the door behind him, and gestured politely.

Gloria didn’t move. She frowned, studying him with a strange expression for a long moment before sighing and stepping forward.

They walked side by side along the street. Gloria stayed silent and aloof. Seeing her mood, Rien kept quiet too—no need to invite scolding. Finally, she broke the silence:

"Rien Schumel—that name spread through the Adventurers’ Guild two days ago. Rumor says you and two companions cleared the top three bounty quests in three hours… then spent most of the reward buying *this* mansion, the priciest vacant property in town. You’re quite the talk now."

"An honor to be remembered by you, Miss."

So his plan worked. Flashy quests and reckless spending *had* drawn attention. Had Aidan not launched that surprise attack, Tyler might’ve sought his help willingly—instead of Rien barging in.

*Truly, fate has a twisted sense of humor*, Rien thought with a wry smile.

"More importantly," Gloria continued, voice softening, "yesterday… you charged the battlefield alone. One move turned defense into victory. You saved Yethania. When Father told me… I was stunned. Maybe… a real savior *does* exist."

Rien watched her serene face, torn between laughter and tears. *She has no idea her "savior" is the Demon King…*

"Well… 'savior' is too strong. I don’t have the power to save the world—"

"Don’t flatter yourself!" Gloria cut in coldly, shooting him a glare. "Last night shattered my impression of you! A hero? You’re a lecher who sweet-talks girls then takes liberties!" Her cheeks flushed faintly. "Why… why did I ever think well of someone like you…?"

…

*So this is the "meeting your idol only to have illusions shattered" effect?* Rien went silent. If he hadn’t taught her to shoot… would he have gained a fangirl? Helping backfired *completely*. Classic case of trying to help only to make things worse.

Wait… who was the chicken? Who was the rice…?

"Miss," Rien groaned, hands on his head, sighing upward. "How long will you cling to this ridiculous misunderstanding? I had *zero* ill intentions last night. Please… clear my name in your heart!"

*Enough.* Why was *every* recent trouble woman-related?! First his mom tricked him onto the throne with an engagement. Then Archangel Gabriel dumped Olga on him—chaos ever since. Now Gloria branded him a hero-masked lecher. Had he really revived his "woman-trouble aura"?

Honestly… *these* women were far more demonic than he was.

Whatever. Finish the task, then vanish. No need to get along anyway.

"Innocence?" Gloria’s lips twitched with a barely hidden smile. "That depends on your performance."

"What performance?" Rien shot back irritably.

"Let’s see… First, after your 'trivial matter,' you’ll accompany me on my street patrol." Her angry mask melted into a "kind" smile. Rien wondered if she’d led him here on purpose.

"The duke’s daughter patrols streets *herself*?" Rien remarked dryly.

"I am Yethania’s future lord. Duty *and* right demand I inspect every corner." Pride warmed her voice—a feeling Rien knew well.

Until days ago, *he’d* carried the pride of being both prince and next Demon King, protecting Christine. In some ways… they were alike.

"An excellent lord doesn’t hide from guests… or stomp and clench fists after missing the target."

*Scratch that.* He just wanted to tease her—vent the frustration. (Not that the prince who once threatened Demon Kings into silence had room to talk.)

"D-Don’t bring up my shortcomings!" Gloria’s face burned crimson, finger jabbing toward him. "Y-You’re slick, theatrical, *and* sharp-tongued…! A-Anyway! Just say why you called me! I’m busy!"

Rien blinked. *This girl isn’t so hard to handle.*

"Alright, alright. To join your patrol, Miss, I’ll finish my 'trivial matter' first." He flashed his easygoing smile, shrugging.

"Spit it out—*now*!" Gloria drawled, voice stretched thin with embarrassment.

"Well… I simply ask you to take me somewhere."

Rien’s smile vanished. Calm, focused—the business-face. His swift shift left Gloria momentarily stunned.

"Where…? Why so serious?"

"Your self-defense weapon… Lord Mayor called it a 'handgun'? Bullets crafted by a local artisan. I’d like to meet that craftsman and learn the standard bullet-making process."

"You’re interested?"

Rien explained calmly. Gloria tilted her head, skeptical.

He sighed. *Too vague.* "Personally, yes. But for Yethania’s future—surely you don’t want another battle with such a hopeless power gap?"

"*You’re* the hopeless gap…" she muttered. "But it’s impossible. Even ignoring mass-production issues, those bullets can’t break defensive magic. Useless against demons."

"‘Impossible,’ ‘can’t be done’—that talk denies life’s possibilities. Say it too much, and you’ll turn pessimistic."

Rien’s tone shifted. Gloria blinked. His aura transformed; his words carried sudden, quiet conviction.

"Even against despairing odds, there’s always a way. If *I* routed thirty thousand alone… why can’t soldiers thousands of times my number gain strength to fight again—with my help?"

"You mean…"

"Just take me there. I’ll handle breaking the magic."

*Poof.* His serious facade crumbled.

"If you’d said *that* earlier, why the speech?" Gloria’s frown melted into a faint smile. She met his eyes with trust. "Alright. Given your strength… I believe you."

"Truly grateful." A soft smile touched Rien’s lips.

"No more wasting time. Follow me."

Gloria strode ahead, turned, and beckoned.