"Could it be… No way." Chelseas stumbled back, panic flashing across his face. His heart clenched sharply—as if seized by an invisible hand.

Only one being knew of the blood staining his hands and the haunted look in his eyes: the nightmare he could never escape—Bocasa Posis Abyss.

Ah… ah…

Just the thought of the Dreadwyrm made Chelseas’s legs tremble. A bone-deep terror surged through his mind and chest. The Dreadwyrm’s monstrous visage and the desperate struggles of his fallen comrades flickered relentlessly before his eyes. All he wanted was to vanish into some distant corner of the world—anywhere to escape *that* monster.

"Hmph. Retracting my decree? Impossible. Where would my royal dignity stand then? Don’t you agree, Lord Chelseas?" The King of Sradon Kingdom snorted, watching the servant depart, then turned to Chelseas with a faint, knowing smile.

"Huh? Lord Chelseas, what’s wrong?"

Noticing Chelseas’s ashen expression, the King frowned. He had never seen the Champion wear such fear.

"U-um… Your Majesty… may I… skip this marriage?" Chelseas stammered, all composure utterly gone.

"Why, Lord Chelseas? Are you afraid of the man the servant mentioned? Rest assured—Sradon Kingdom is no pushover. Our Three Royal Archmages will teach him proper manners."

"But…" Chelseas’s words died on his lips. Torn, he couldn’t reveal the man was the Dreadwyrm, nor admit his fear. To confess would brand him the first Champion in history to cower—a disgrace inviting endless ridicule.

"Of course I’m not afraid! It’s just… we haven’t confirmed his identity. Wouldn’t proceeding be too hasty?"

"You’re right," the King said firmly, placing both hands on Chelseas’s shoulders. "Tomorrow, I’ll take you and our kingdom’s elite secret unit to Prince Ling Xie’s Mansion to inquire. I promise—you *will* marry Aifei."

"Th-this… I…" Chelseas choked back helpless protest, trapped in silence.

"Say no more. I’ll handle this. You focus on honing your strength, Champion. Your duty lies with the Three Demon Generals and the Demon Sovereign," the King declared, voice unwavering.

*Handle it for me? Since when did I ask you to?! Ah… someone, please save me…*

Chelseas’s mind teetered on the edge of collapse.

"Master, I’ve rested enough! Please put me down—you’ve carried me a whole hour! Aren’t your arms tired?"

(Scene shifts back to Ling Xie.)

"Not tired. If anything, you’re surprisingly light. Alright, down you go," I replied calmly, lowering her gently to the ground.

*Ah… How could Master carry me this long… in front of *everyone*?* Sunlight warmed her skin as Aifei ducked her head, cheeks burning crimson, wishing for a crack in the earth to swallow her whole.

"We’re entering the Silver Forest! Activate defensive formations—*nothing* gets near Prince Ling Xie!" The lead guard barked, instantly alert as the dense woods loomed ahead. The Silver Forest stood as their greatest obstacle yet.

"Yes, sir!"

Behind him, knights shifted into battle stances. They’d crossed such forests countless times.

"Oh? Are there really *that* many monsters inside?" I asked Aifei, puzzled. I still had to protect Aide—payment hadn’t cleared yet.

"Yes, Master. Mostly low-level monsters. Annoying in numbers, but nothing my team can’t handle," Aifei assured me.

"Really?"

"Then… what do you mean, Master…?"

"A traitor. An ambush. Likely set by the Demonkin."

I murmured the words softly into Aifei’s ear. How did I know? Simple—I’d scanned our entire party and the forest with magical hyper-perception. The truth was crystal clear.