I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

His fingers twitched, as if he wanted to touch something, but ultimately stopped in mid-air and gently withdrew with a soft sigh.

No regrets for making a move.

He doesn't think it was a wrong choice, and he will take responsibility for his actions.

And most importantly, he needs to know the root cause of Ramalyn's change in attitude and mood.

It's unclear how the female demons outside will view this situation: they haven't seen their own king for a whole day and night, and even if he's thick-skinned, he can't offer any explanation.

Just as his thoughts began to drift away and his mind became increasingly hazy, those eyes, as bright as rubies, suddenly opened slightly.

The Banshee Queen's gaze held a hint of confusion. A slight stinging pain emanated from the corner of her eye, gently tugging at the surrounding muscles. Her brows furrowed slightly, and the corners of her mouth involuntarily turned down, revealing a rare, even somewhat pitiful, expression.

As if momentarily forgetting the incantation, Ramalen subconsciously raised her hand, trembling slightly as she tentatively searched for something beside her. Her usually heavenly voice was now tinged with a hoarseness as she softly called out, "Gerald?"

"I'm here." Pegasus paused, his gaze returning to the person beside him. "You need to rest. Go back to your old room. Do you remember how to use the incantation?"

"I remember."

Gerald lifted himself off the bed, bent slightly, and steadily wrapped his arms around Ramalen's body. One hand went under her back and shoulder, while the other lifted her knees, easily lifting her from the soft bed. The banshee's head was pressed against his chest, her long hair flowing like water in his arms.

She stood up, went to the bedside, and put her feet on the ground.

This was a world completely different from the one in bed. The life force from the incantation was severed, and his strength vanished for a moment—then, in the next instant, it was replenished by the cloth on his shoulder.

He stopped and strode forward.

"Gerald?"

“I’m right here.” His steps faltered for a moment again, his gaze fixed on the succubus’s bone pen in the distance. “Do you need me to bring the bone pen to you?”

Lamaren shook her head almost imperceptibly, her still trembling hand outlining the shape of the incantation, and the previously closed wall reopened.

"All I need is for you to be by my side."

she whispered softly.

Chapter Fifty-Two: You Decorated Someone Else's Dream

A deep sense of exhaustion welled up inside me.

When he woke up from his dream, he was greeted by a vast and boundless starry sky. This familiar sight made him nostalgic for it, which was at least better than what had just happened.

But now is not the time to return to reality.

Gerald glanced at the watch he had borrowed from the prison guard and then closed his eyes again.

We can roughly conclude that the speed at which time passes in the past and in the outside world is roughly the same: after a full day and night, only four hours have passed in reality, a ratio of six to one.

The key question is whether sleeping with the Banshee Queen counts as part of defeating her/important story progression, and whether this will cause time to pass.

So when his consciousness returned to the dream, he immediately looked around for Lamaren's figure—and there she was, sleeping peacefully beside him, in the same state as when he left.

In his dream, he also slept for a while, which allowed him to return to reality. Looking back now, his previous act of attempting suicide with the sword was somewhat ill-considered... But from this perspective, if this were reality, why would his previous suicide attempt trigger a time travel?

In any case, the current situation has eased the huge weight in his heart a little.

The biggest worry is that you promised to stay a little longer, but then suddenly it jumps to thirty years in the future.

Snapped.

Gerald felt his arm suddenly being gripped tightly. Ramalyn suddenly exerted a tremendous force from nowhere and pulled him back into the bed.

The room was built like a normal house, so the bed was a little small. Even lying side by side, he felt like he might fall off the edge at any moment, so he had no choice but to obediently let Ramallian hold him in her arms.

“If you’re awake, you should get ready to get up.” Gerald’s first thought was of the formal attire he had just rescued from the thorn bushes; thankfully, he hadn’t put it on yet. “We haven’t tidied up the outer room yet.”

“It’s alright, it’s too late.” Ramallen’s voice returned to normal after a good rest. “I want to enjoy a little more peace and quiet.”

……

The Queen of the Banshees felt a long-lost sense of peace.

The noise and screams finally disappeared from her mind, and the momentary peace was so comforting that she even had a dream.

A dream she knew very well.

She dreamt of her childhood memories, the wind carrying her through the city of Kazdel, past the ever-burning furnace, sheltering from the rain under a cloudy sky, and seeing the people from her memories who had passed away.

The mother had a smile on her face, and her sisters surrounded her as they sang together.

She was born to be the most outstanding among the succubi, and she was destined to be the master of the royal court, the leader who would guide the succubi to prosperity.

She thought this peace would last forever, until the walls of Kazdel were destroyed by the cannon fire of the landships.

Banshees were once one of the most popular races in Kazdel. They were born with the best singing voices, and even just practicing their voices every day would still attract the Sarkaz.

Banshees are also the sharpest swords on the battlefield; words flow from their pens, and elegies are played for their enemies.

But no matter how sharp a sword is, once it goes to the battlefield and fights to the end, the only outcome is that it will break.

The Blood Demon's vitality has become infamous, spreading far and wide across this land; the Shapeshifter is singular, yet omnipresent and immortal; the Carrion Eaters are walls of flesh and blood, an unbreakable shield for the Sarkaz; the Liches control space, they do not die on the battlefield, but only from knowledge.

Where is the banshee?

They sang dirges for the fallen soldiers, but who but themselves could sing dirges for the banshees?

Even Theresa couldn't do that; Theresa's gaze was fixed on something far more distant and unattainable. No matter how good their relationship was, it couldn't change their fundamental differences in opinion. But Ramalen certainly couldn't blame a friend who bore the responsibilities of the Sarkaz race.

Therefore, the answer is no one.

There was no one there.

Except for herself.

She would remain on the battlefield until her last breath, burying all her relatives and friends, until the final lament resounded in her throat, offering herself a swan song symbolizing death.

So, after the lich and Theresa turned Kazdel into a deadly trap, her past home and memories were annihilated by the immense magic.

On the night before that final battle, she also had a dream.

A dream exactly the same as the one I have now.

Perhaps she wanted to etch the details of this city into the depths of her memory one last time, so that she could use them to mourn it long afterward.

It's also possible that she subconsciously understands that tomorrow might be the last day of her life, and she still feels reluctant to let go of some things from the past. That's why she wants to decorate her dream in advance, like dressing up a doll, so that she can still complete the details before the revolving lantern of life arrives.

But when news of the victory reached every corner of the battlefield, and when that unfamiliar figure arrived on the city wall, her dream seemed to have become a prelude to a dramatic revelation, quickly disappearing into the depths of her memory.

So why is this familiar dream appearing before her eyes at this moment?

She didn't know.

But this time the dream was clearly different.

The mother's smile continued. Her face had been frozen in time just before she went to war, but now her face had a few more wrinkles—it seemed she hadn't chosen to freeze her appearance, which was very much in line with her character.

The sisters laughed and urged her on, pushing her down into the underground of Kazdel. The road was lined with flowers, and familiar faces appeared one after another, making it quite a lively scene.

The wind led her forward, step by step, guiding her past the dark clouds overhead and towards the light.

The wind sheltered her, embraced her, and stayed by her side.

The wind that she could not obtain or retain in her youth is now beside her, guiding her direction.

She felt satisfied.

Her body felt a long-lost lightness, and she no longer needed to worry about the uncertain tomorrow; everything about her was right here.

Her wise mother would teach her how to become the Queen of the Banshees step by step, her sisters would help her fight off the villains who came to cause trouble, and the wind would sing her a lullaby as she fell asleep. She would have a child, something she had thought about since she was a child, and after arriving in the valley, she became even more certain that her child would be named "Aifania".

She walked slowly.

Reaching the edge of the dream.

Even though she realized it was just a dream and that she would soon wake up and face reality again, she didn't feel any resentment.

She saw another bright future, a future for her family and friends.

Now she should build a future for the survivors, for the banshees and her lover.

before that.

Let her enjoy this peaceful sleep in my arms once again.

Chapter 53 The First Step in Conquering Gravity

Life goes on.

For Lamaren, life wasn't just about getting through it; she also had to figure out how to explain everything that had happened in the palace to her sisters in a tactful way that wouldn't cause any "misunderstandings," and she hoped that the young succubi wouldn't find out about what had happened to her so soon.

However, she soon stopped worrying about it.

"I have bad news for you."

Gerald's ears twitched, but he continued to calmly comb the hair of the person in front of him.

"Hmm."

He was met with a few short hums in response.

Lamarle seemed to particularly enjoy the feeling of resting her head against him. Even though fixing her hair was just a matter of casting a spell for her, she simply lied and said that her magic had been completely exhausted when she opened the door, and she had no intention of letting him know her little secret.

It's clear that the Banshee Queen has very little experience interacting with normal people, considering that not much time has passed since the war ended.

Gerald turned sideways and used his tail to summon the wind to catch some jewelry left on the "battlefield," then put it back on the Banshee Queen. It was clear that the silver mane on the Pegasus's tail was much more lustrous than before.

“There are a lot of people outside, the same group that watched us fight earlier.”

bang.

Lamarle instinctively tried to stand up, but her calf landed squarely on the dressing table, causing some items to fall to the ground, where they were then gently lifted up by the wind.

“The good news is, I’ve disguised you.” Geraldton supported Ramalen to calm her down. “I studied the thorns in the yard. Although I can’t actively control them, they’re not like before where I could only use the wind to deflect them.”

"They'll only see some scattered thorns and some deliberately created signs of battle. I won't see any details either... What's wrong, Lamaren?"

Why did he feel that the succubus queen in front of him was trembling even more violently?

------

"Please, Lamarle, our sister! Why did you let things turn out like this?!"

When Gerald and Ramalyn were dressed in their formal attire again and emerged from the hidden room, they were met with a barrage of accusations from the leader of the banshees: "We understand your efforts to lead us out of our suffering, but if you want to vent your frustrations, you can send us out to hunt for you, instead of being so disrespectful to our only ally."

"I think there must be some misunderstanding."

Gerald spoke up to shield the uneasy Banshee Queen behind him from the oncoming attack. Although as an outsider he wasn't really in a position to say such things, he couldn't let Ramalen bear the blame for something she hadn't done: "The Queen of the Royal Court has always taken care of me personally. To call her disrespectful is a bit much..."

His words were interrupted. Someone was gently pinching the hem of his robe with a spell, telling him to stop talking.

Sure enough, after hearing these words that added fuel to the fire, the leading banshee—who was also the old woman who had protected the young banshees on the day of the duel—almost fainted from anger.

And she did indeed faint.

She was dizzy and uneasy; the wrinkles on her face and her furrowed brows spoke volumes about the words she hadn't finished saying.

Behind her, a more unruly banshee gently supported the lead banshee, awkwardly explaining to Gerald, "Oh dear, she was just a little worried about you. After all, if everyone just saw the thorns being triggered, they'd think you were fighting with Ramalen."

"But we soon discovered that the [Procreation] spell had been activated."

The banshee's eyes clearly held some curiosity. Like the leader of the banshees, all the banshees who were able to venture into the depths of the courtyard were skilled at breaking the spells along the way, and were also the last remaining backbone force left over from the war.

They were supposed to be their last resort, joining General Therese on the front lines to pave the way for the assassination of General Felin.

Before they could even take action, news of victory arrived from the front lines.

Is Gerald strong? It's hard to say. If we're just comparing him to the six heroes, then this Pegasus is probably only evenly matched in the first half, since he clearly lacked staying power in his previous match against Lamaren.

The problem is, on the battlefield, he's simply invincible! Sorcerers and artillery can't even touch him, saturation attacks are blocked by his wind, and he utterly crushes weaker enemies. Born in a time of war, such a person could change the course of the entire battlefield in an instant, regardless of which side he joins.

If he had been there at the very beginning of the war, the artillery fire from the land-based ships could barely even catch a glimpse of him, since he could fly.

It's strange that such people aren't firmly bound by interests in other countries, but instead come to Kazdel, a place with nothing.

"What do you mean... never mind, no need to explain."

Gerald was unaware that the banshee in front of him was starting to lose focus; he had already begun to lose his composure when he heard the word "reproduction."

But Ramalyn's face was now turning an unnatural red, and he was really worried that something bad might happen if he continued to explain. He wanted to make sure that he could leave a chance for this fearless banshee in front of him.

"Ah, that's how it is. After all, there are almost no men among the banshees, so if they want to have children, they can only find someone from outside."

The carefree banshee, however, made no attempt to understand this good intention. Instead, she shook her head and answered seriously, "But the bloodline cannot be guaranteed, so we use a fertility spell. Banshees also prepare this spell in advance when they travel alone, and then see if they can find a suitable partner."