The flags fluttered like waves, like fire, rolling among the dark clouds.
Anti-gravity magic stones covered the bottom of the airship, supporting the magnificent garden palace on the hull, where the walls were imprinted with the intricate crest representing the Royal Family.
The sky was a hazy gray, thick with dark clouds.
Such weather was actually unsuitable for an airship to take flight, but even the fury of the God of Storms could not obstruct the Empire’s solemn will.
This was the first time Liya had seen the Empire’s magic airship.
Even when the war was at its peak, she hadn’t seen the Empire bring this out.
It showed just how expensive and rare they were.
Liya was momentarily dazed before thinking to herself with amusement: ‘It seems Joen stalled in the Dry River Territory for so long that he truly made the Emperor lose his patience.’
Below the airship stood a unit of the Imperial Guard in dazzling, ornate armor.
They looked unfamiliar — likely the Imperial Envoy’s entourage that had arrived by air.
Leading them was a cold, elegant female knight with a fiery red ponytail.
She was exceptionally beautiful, but her expression was tinged with arrogance.
She scanned Joen rudely.
After a long silence, she spoke with words full of thorns.
“The Empire has stood for 1,400 years, yet there has never been a Hero with such an attitude as yours, requiring His Majesty to personally send someone to invite you,” the knight with the red ponytail said sarcastically.
“Don’t you agree, Princess?”
As she spoke, the knight looked toward Margaret, hoping for the Princess to join her in criticizing the Hero.
However, Margaret simply looked away, pretending she was deaf.
The knight was stunned for a moment, then looked toward Yuna.
“Saintess…?”
But Yuna only stared longingly at the Hero, completely ignoring her.
In her watery, deep blue eyes, there was a shimmering light the knight couldn’t understand.
Fortunately, Ailita spoke up, timely easing the knight’s embarrassment.
“Joen — “
Ailita said with a half-smile.
Her emerald eyes stared directly at Liya, giving Liya a creepy, uncomfortable sensation.
“I’ve searched the Abyss, and there is no such thing as this new species of Pupu. Where exactly did she come from?”
Joen instinctively pulled Liya into his arms, asking warily, “Why do you care?”
“It’s nothing. We Elves don’t have special hobbies; we just like all kinds of unique delicacies.”
Joen frowned, his expression growing angry.
“Stay away from her. She isn’t just a Pupu anymore; she is my comrade-in-arms and a human hero who saved at least nine million Doom Victims!”
“Aha — ?” Ailita laughed.
The red-maned knight was even more stunned, then she covered her mouth and chuckled, elegant in a way that didn’t suit a soldier.
“A hero? You actually call a Pupu that? Are you two that close? Hero, you are truly the most ‘special’ Hero in history.”
Other Heroes, no matter how commoner-like or vulgar their behavior, at least played around with real women.
But this one…
Played with a Pupu.
Truly, the “weakest Hero in history” to match the “weakest Demon Lord in history.”
When news reached the Empire Capital that the Hero had suppressed the Anti-Magus War in four months, everyone was initially stunned.
But as more details arrived, that shock and confusion finally found a “reasonable” explanation.
First, Demon King Lia had been as fast as the wind, avoiding battle the entire time.
She only picked on weak points in the defensive lines and refused to face the human main force head-on.
Finally, she was cornered in the Demon King’s Castle, where she self-destructed and fled after only three rounds of combat.
Such a performance was a disgrace to Demonkind.
Which of those previous Demon Lords hadn’t challenged the Hero to a duel, fighting for 100 or 200 rounds with all their cards on the table?
In the end, it would even take a Sacred Artifact to finish them off.
How strong could a Demon Lord who was this cowardly be?
And how great could a Hero be for defeating such a coward?
The mages didn’t buy it.
Since the Hero was used as a propaganda tool for the Empire, every generation was hyped up —
Things like “once in a millennium,” “unprecedented strength,” or “unrivaled combat power.”
They were tired of hearing it.
A bunch of lucky commoners who acted big only because of the Heroic Power would eventually fade into obscurity after nineteen years anyway.
When the elite evaluated the young talents of the Empire Capital, they intentionally excluded the Hero… and there was a tacit agreement not to compare the strength of previous Heroes — it was pointless.
And when the people of the Empire Capital heard that Demon King Lia had unified the Seven Demon Realms and imitated humans by reforming them, they found it even more ridiculous.
Uncivilized Demonkind trying to learn from humans to build an empire? It was like a monkey wearing a crown or a poor imitation of beauty.
See?
They were scattered by a single human slap.
Furthermore, upon hearing that Demon King Lia had been a smuggler in the Empire’s gray market before becoming a Demon Lord, their disdain reached its peak.
Merchants were at the bottom of the Empire’s social chain.
Smugglers were the bottom of the bottom.
A Demonkind smuggler?
Good grief, all the negative traits were stacked together.
Gradually, a rumor began to spread in the capital circles, just as it had among Demonkind: Demon King Lia had bought the title of Demon Lord, and all those previous battle records were fixed matches paid for with money.
Of course, Liya had to take at least half the blame for this public opinion.
On her path to becoming the Demon Lord, she rarely killed — especially strong demons with potential, status, or cooperation value.
She could never bring herself to kill them.
Being a benevolent king, giving losers a chance, and uniting as much strength as possible was the strategy Liya had set from the beginning.
If the current Liya were to evaluate that strategy now, she would only say:
‘Complete idiocy.’
The ways of the world teach one quickly.
***
Stepping onto the airship, Joen leaned against the railing and gazed into the distance.
The mist-shrouded Dry River Territory was a scene of ruin and desolation — flooded farmlands, collapsed houses, and the sturdy cities standing at various transportation hubs… all entered his sharp, burning brown eyes.
He had never cared about the sarcasm of others.
Before, he didn’t understand it; now, he couldn’t be bothered.
In Uncle Ban’s words — gossip exists every day; if you don’t listen, it’s as if it isn’t there.
If he spent all his energy worrying about what others thought, how would he have the strength to savor daily happiness?
Joen didn’t really care about happiness right now.
He cared more about the things he had promised and the responsibilities he carried.
Lily.
Everyone in town.
The Doom Victims in the Dry River Territory who lacked food and clothing for the winter.
“If this airship could be used to transport grain, think of how many pack animals it would replace,” Joen remarked.
As Joen watched the distant city grow smaller until it was just a dot, he couldn’t help but sigh with emotion.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Kobilio, holding his wine flask, approached Joen while slightly tipsy and whispered, “The maintenance costs and Demon Crystal consumption for an airship like this are astronomical. There are only eight in the entire Empire, and they were built 600 years ago when the treasury was at its peak. Now… hah — “
Kobilio shook his head and sighed leisurely.
“Times are different. The Empire Capital gets more prosperous by the day, yet the treasury gets tighter every year. I really don’t know where all the money is leaking to.”