I'm fighting Kal'tsit? Really?

"...Before becoming tailors, my brother and I were just ordinary Sarkaz who gradually became what we are now."

Theresa's gaze fell on Gerald's crippled foot, her eyes filled with undisguised disappointment: "Although I am better at using some skills, and my swordsmanship is not as good as my brother's, it is enough for self-defense, and it can also deceive some enemies who rely on their physique to attack us."

How did it come to this?

"I didn't expect this to happen, I'm sorry." She watched as Tenma used the wind to retrieve her broken leg from a distance, and then looked on as he pondered how to avoid being scolded. So she quickly said, "I can heal you, you don't have to worry."

Dust slowly coiled around Gerald's broken edge, like soft ribbons or warm breath, gently yet quickly covering the fractured area.

Under her guidance, the unseen dust slowly seeped into his wound. With the slight tremor of the Demon King's fingers, an imperceptible glimmer of light spread around the broken skin, like stardust falling into the night sky.

If ordinary treatments forcibly heal tissues, and the banshee's spells use the soul as a foundation to mend wounds, then Theresa's healing method is to weave the broken parts back together bit by bit, like a tailor repairing a tattered piece of fabric, filling the missing parts with countless tiny specks of dust, allowing the wound to slowly close until the originally missing parts are reshaped.

The trails of the dust particles were clearly visible, like delicate stitches, precisely reconnecting the broken parts to their original positions. The flesh and blood gradually regained their vitality under the pull of the dust, as if the injury had never existed.

A slight tremor ran beneath Gerald's feet, and he could feel an unusual temperature surging into his limbs and bones, gradually reconnecting him to his body.

But at that moment, his ears twitched slightly, sensing a rapidly approaching wave.

The barrier shattered.

The incantation was torn apart by an invisible force, exploding in the air like a forcibly snapped thread, scattering into fragments of light. In the aftershocks of that shattering chaos, a deep purple figure swept past with lightning speed, heading straight for the two of them, finally stopping beside Pegasus.

Microdust continued stitching up the wound, while Lamaren's incantation began to surge, like an invisible protective net surrounding Gerald, almost as if to shield him and snatch him back from the Demon King's grasp.

“…Theresia.” The Banshee Queen’s voice was colder than ever, carrying a barely suppressed emotion. “It was just a friendly spar, why did it turn out like this? I told you not to go too far, didn’t I?!”

Ramalen, who had always addressed her with honorifics since she became the Demon King, and who had never changed her ways even after Ramalen's repeated requests, was now angrily calling her by her full name.

Theresa suddenly felt a little wronged.

Chapter 79 She's defended against them all! (6K5 Please refresh the chapter)

However, this is easy to resolve, since Gerald himself will explain to Lamaren what exactly happened and how he suddenly cut off the leg while the Banshee was secretly sulking.

Therefore, Theresa doesn't need to feel wronged, and Gerald doesn't need to sleep tonight.

That night, the thorns in the courtyard grew to about five meters tall, and the power of the incantation turned a patch of sky above the valley black, a color that lingered for several days.

The little banshees eagerly awaited their teacher's arrival for the next day, but after three days, she finally appeared with an apologetic expression. She was there to guide the children on some basic Sarkaz knowledge.

It's going to be tough on a certain regent.

Before leaving Kazdel, a certain demon lord "accidentally" left all the official documents he needed to process in Theresis's office, and also "accidentally" reminded his brother about her whereabouts.

So Theresa stayed in the valley for four days.

Of course, the fact that the valley began receiving a large number of letters and documents from the lich starting the next day is another story.

Preparing lessons, writing official documents, teaching the little demons—she had to do everything she was supposed to do. If Theresis hadn't taken the initiative to take on half of the official documents for her, she probably wouldn't have survived these few days.

Placed a new document on the table, Theresa sighed in the empty classroom and continued reading the emotions and narratives written on the black and white paper.

From trivial matters like family gossip and the movements of promising young people in Sarkaz, to the brief details of the royal court's internal affairs and atmosphere, everything could be summarized in just a few words. The cold, hard financial figures were like scars etched into the skin; even though they had mostly healed, the past humiliations and ruins remained vivid in memory.

The royal court of the time of Elish was accustomed to summoning the demon king at will, manipulating him like a puppet on a string.

As two of the six heroes, they have only just stepped into the threshold of entry, hoping to attract the favor of the carrion eaters born of war and to make the proud Blood Demon King's court willing to listen to some of their opinions.

Some flexible policies in their dealings have allowed their friendship with the liches to endure, so much so that the liches still occasionally come to visit in a friendly manner.

But that's still far from enough.

The fragmentation of the royal court, the lamentations of ordinary people, and the curse passed down through their bloodline constantly haunted the Sarkaz. Natural selection led the Sarkaz, as parents, to train their children for the battlefield from birth; at the very least, they aimed to ensure survival, and the lucky ones might earn a living as mercenaries.

In conclusion, perhaps only a weakened royal court like the Sakura's has a slight chance to choose its own future.

The Demon King's pen lingered on the letter for a long time, unsure of what to write next.

A gust of wind blew in through the open window, bringing with it the sound of Pegasus.

"Where are the children?"

Upon hearing the sound, Theresa looked to her side—Gerald, just like that day, flew directly from the window into the Tower of Words. The spell outside hadn't even shown any signs of being triggered before it was completely invaded by this pegasus.

This was the first time she had seen one of the couple in three days.

The Demon King paused, carefully examining the Pegasus whose gaze was wandering, and said with concern, "Today's lessons are over. I'll be teaching them for now. I can give you my lesson notes from the past two days... How is Ramalen?"

“Not very good,” Gerald said helplessly, his gaze drifting away, not wanting to meet the eyes of the demon king in front of him. “She was not very emotional at the time, and I haven’t given her any positive feedback these days. It’s my own fault that things have come to this.”

Walking is a very simple solution.

Emotions may ease with the fluctuations of movement, anger may be overshadowed by heartache, and time itself may act as a good medicine for forgetting, but this alone cannot sustain a relationship for long.

The goal of constantly breaking through in dreams through battles has always been at odds with Ramalen's concerns, and as long as this contradiction remains unresolved, similar incidents will continue to occur repeatedly.

Therefore, what this succubus lord, who is in a state of emotional torment, needs now is companionship and spiritual communication.

So, after taking a break to replenish her energy and having a heart-to-heart, completely open conversation, Ramalyn came up with a way to temporarily solve the problem.

Although there's no way to solve this once and for all.

Theresa’s gaze fell on Gerald, and after only a moment, her brows furrowed slightly, and her eyes gradually became complicated.

A powerful, unmistakable aura of incantation emanated from Pegasus.

It felt like a treasure trove protected by layers of guards, neither abrupt nor obviously aggressive, yet upon closer inspection, one could sense the many protections and constraints hidden within.

Through the fabric of his shirt, she could vaguely see some kind of complex texture on his skin.

She paused slightly, then said softly, "I'm sorry, I was rude."

The Demon King stood up, reached her hand to Gerald's collar, and gently parted the fabric of his robes. The fabric slid open with her movement, revealing the intricate and elegant runes beneath.

The traces of the incantation emerged along Pegasus's skin, appearing as a faint dark red, as if someone had pierced his skin with an extremely fine bone pen and then made a sharp cut. Each stroke was interwoven with the meaning of protection and vigilance, spreading around his heart and shoulder blades.

"……I see."

Theresa sighed softly, her fingertips tracing the traces of the incantation, feeling the lingering aura within.

Banshees' spells are usually secret and unknown to others. Few people can detect them unless absolutely necessary, let alone have them fused with flesh and blood. Even without physical inscription like this, they can still provide protection.

This mark is different; weaker Sarkaz cannot sense it at all.

This is no longer just simple protection.

This was a message specifically written for the royal court—once the incantation was engraved, it meant that this celestial horse was now completely enveloped by the protection of the Banshee Queen, and could even be considered as half of her. Any attempt to truly kill him would incur the Banshee Queen's relentless wrath.

Although in Theresa’s view, this was entirely Ramallen’s way of pleading for Gerald to fight less—it’s not that fighting is out of the question, but at least he should consider his reputation in the royal court, right?

“No wonder Ramalen took such a long time to rest.” After calming down and sensing the aura on Pegasus, the young demon king was greatly shocked. “Buffs, revival, repair… she put all the blessings that the Banshee Queen would cast on the battlefield onto you. Such consumption must be enormous.”

Have it?

Gerald pondered the Banshee Queen's ever-present exhaustion, yet her face and body remained radiant. He felt that Theresa's judgment might be somewhat biased.

But he wisely refrained from saying it aloud, simply nodding and changing the subject:

"I'm here to keep my appointment regarding the previous transaction."

"…!" Theresa blinked in surprise, then gave a bright smile: "I'm so glad you accepted my invitation."

“But,” Pegasus shook his head, looking at the light suddenly reflected in the Demon King’s eyes, and continued after thinking for a moment, “I can’t understand where your trust in me comes from. After all, there is still the possibility that I just want to gain your trust in order to find an opportunity to assassinate you and completely destroy Sarkaz from within.”

Theresa met the oncoming gaze directly, then looked out the window and said with a smile:

"intuition."

"However, if you'd like, I can take you to see for yourself the impact you'll have and the future you'll bring."

She blinked: "Hmm~ Here's a little hint, it's related to when we first met in the valley."

--------

The stream in the valley shimmered gently in the sunlight, its murmuring water carrying the coolness of summer. A group of little fairies were frolicking in the stream, splashing up sparkling water droplets every now and then, their silvery laughter echoing through the valley.

Their clothes were soaked, clinging to their legs and leaving raw, youthful marks, but no one stopped because of it; instead, they played even more enthusiastically. Some children even used bone pens to write and draw in the sand by the riverbank, or used spells to create an ultimate water ball and throw it at others.

Compared to her companions frolicking in the water, Nasti's figure resting on the riverbank appeared particularly quiet.

She didn't join them, but sat on a rock by the stream, holding a thick notebook in her arms, quietly flipping through it.

Her notebook was filled with the knowledge the Demon King had taught them that day. She frowned slightly, pondering its deeper meaning, and occasionally traced key passages with her finger.

Suddenly, a few drops of icy water splashed and landed on her cheeks.

Nasti paused slightly, closed the book, and looked coldly at the culprit—a little succubus who had been playing in the water. Now, she had lifted her skirt, rolled up the wet part, and walked barefoot onto the grass towards her.

However, it wasn't a friend she knew; the guy was sleeping on the tree above her head.

The person walking towards her was of royal blood.

"...Why do this?"

Nasti asked in a calm, emotionless tone, but those who knew her well knew that her patience was slowly slipping away.

The sirens being watched by her showed no fear whatsoever. Instead, they smiled and raised their hands, beckoning to her: "Nasti! Come down and play too, the water is so refreshing today!"

Nasti's fingertips paused on the page, and she looked up, her gaze meeting the newcomer's. The banshee before her wore a harmless smile, her steps light as she trod across the grass, her skirt rolled up to her knees, revealing skin glistening with water droplets that shimmered faintly in the sunlight.

"I am not interested."

"Don't be so boring, the book won't run away." The little banshee sat down skillfully next to her, shook the water droplets off her feet, and the grass blades trembled slightly as the water droplets fell. "Anyway, you were peeking at us playing before, so why don't you just come down and try it yourself?"

Nasti looked away and returned her gaze to the open book: "I was just wondering, is it really worth wasting your time like this?"

"Waste?" The little succubus tilted her head, squinted her eyes, and seemed to find her words amusing. "In this kind of weather, the sun is just right, the stream is just right, and even the wind has a comfortable smell... This is much more valuable than staying here carrying things."

Nasti frowned slightly, as if weighing whether to continue the conversation. But the other party didn't give her that chance, continuing to speak on their own:

"But to put it bluntly, I used to think you were just pretending to study, trying to make a good impression on the Banshee Queen and stay in the valley."

“But these past few days, I’ve suddenly come to understand something.” She paused, her gaze falling on the water as if she were considering her words. “I used to think that bloodline was the most important thing. Even if one lacked experience, as long as one inherited the royal bloodline, one could get closer to the position of the Queen of the Slugs than anyone else, and gain recognition sooner.”

Nasti finally raised her eyes and stared at her, as if waiting for her to continue.

“But I don’t think so now, and I don’t think you’re pretending anymore.” The little banshee smiled, the water reflecting her pupils like refracted light. “We’ve all seen the battle between our teacher and the Banshee Queen. He’s neither a member of the royal court nor a part of the Sarkaz, yet the Banshee Queen lost to him.”

Nastya remained silent.

"So, maybe bloodlines really aren't that important," the little banshee said casually, as if stating a trivial fact. "In the end, everyone has their own strengths, so why bother with things like bloodlines? It's just too stupid. Even the machine our teacher brought out can easily bully us, so what's the point of caring about these things?"

“So this is what I think.” She looked at her friends who were still playing and laughing in the distance and whispered, “We must cooperate, at least we can’t let that person continue to be so arrogant.”

"cooperate?"

Nasti finally spoke.

"Hmm." The little banshee paused, her gaze lingering on Nasti for a moment before looking at her companions playing in the stream in the distance, a slight smile playing on her lips.

“Alice may always make fools of herself, but her spell-shaping ability is the strongest among us. If she can master the flight spell precisely, she might be able to buy us more room to maneuver; your friend, Eli, always has incredible patience with spells, she can help draw a lot of attention ahead; as for you—”

She looked away and then at Nasti again, her tone filled with certainty.

“Nasti, you are the smartest among us. You are better at observing situations and finding flaws than anyone else.”

"If we have someone who can be the core of our tactics, it has to be you."

……

Nasti's fingers gently caressed the pages, her fingertips tracing the texture of the paper as they glided across it.

Now, someone tells her that bloodline isn't that important. She never imagined that she would find a use for her abilities simply because of a "power armor," and even be hailed as the backbone of tactics.

Her brows furrowed slightly, and her thoughts drifted further afield.

If the Banshee Queen and her teacher were truly guiding them in this way, encouraging them to break free from the constraints of bloodline and instead seek their own value—that would be far too cunning.

"Hey."

Seeing that Nasti didn't reply immediately, the little banshee cast a spell on the tree behind Nasti, trying to call down a banshee who was sleeping in the tree.

The branches and leaves trembled slightly, and then a figure suddenly fell from the tree.

The little demon instinctively reached out to catch it, but the other party's weight far exceeded her expectations. Her arm suddenly felt heavy, and she staggered, losing her footing and falling backward.

"Ugh—"

She gritted her teeth, cried out in pain, and the next second she and the falling figure crashed to the ground, rolling together and tumbling down the slope. Finally, the water surface rapidly enlarged in her vision, and with a crisp splash, the two of them tumbled solidly into the stream.

The river water splashed up sparkling droplets, attracting the attention of the children who were playing in the stream. They all stopped what they were doing and looked over.

The two figures tumbled and rolled underwater for a while before finally emerging with wet little heads. Water droplets dripped from their hair, making them look somewhat disheveled and comical.

"...How could you be so heavy...!!!"