“Who? Who is that?”
Lia asked, feigning surprise as she cupped her hand around her ear.
“Xela,” the Crow Messenger repeated patiently.
“The High Shadow Archmage, Governor of the Thousand River Territory—Lady Xela.”
“With such a grand introduction, I thought you were talking about some peerless powerhouse like the Hero. Turns out it’s just some nameless small fry.”
“The greatest warriors leave no tales of fame. Besides, having lost your throne as the Demon King, you are nothing more than a stray demon scurrying and hiding. You and my master are much the same.”
The Crow Messenger smiled thinly, meeting her word for word.
“Well then, I am starting to get a little interested in your master.”
Lia pretended to lower her head in thought for a moment before looking up.
“Lead the way, little girl. I’ll go have a meeting with this master of yours.”
The Crow Messenger nodded.
Her black dress and snow-white body melted simultaneously, collapsing into a puddle of shadow.
From the darkness, a crow with glossy feathers emerged and perched on the corridor railing, waiting for the two.
Lia took the first step, and Joan was about to follow.
Just as his greaves moved forward half a step, he suddenly paused.
Joan turned around and strode back to City Lord Myron.
At that moment, Myron was secretly rejoicing over his narrow escape from death.
Until a dark shadow loomed over him.
Without wasting words, Joan pressed his palm against the top of Myron’s head.
A massive surge of mana suddenly poured in, and under the deluge, the most vital mana-sensing hub in Myron’s brain was instantly destroyed.
He discovered with horror that he could no longer perceive mana, and his connection to the Mana Net had been completely severed.
“You… what did you do to me?”
Myron’s heart pounded in terror.
Joan remained silent.
He simply swung several swift flashes of sword light, ruining Myron’s face, yet followed it with a brutal application of healing magic.
Upon the healed face, scars crisscrossed one another, making it impossible to recognize the former City Lord’s original appearance.
In just an instant, Myron found himself by a river outside the city.
“You… what exactly do you want? Where is this? What kind of magic is this?”
Myron was completely dazed.
A burning pain radiated from his face; he wanted to scream but didn’t dare.
Joan still gave no response.
He simply tossed the man into the rushing river, then stood on the bank, silently watching him struggle.
Myron flailed in the water, sometimes crying out in terror, sometimes choking as he swallowed mouthfuls of water, rising and falling until the swift current finally swept him away.
‘I hope you can work hard and swim to shore soon.’
Joan thought to himself, feeling a sense of relief.
Judgment should have been a solemn affair, but time was of the essence, and Joan could not afford such luxuries.
Therefore, he chose to give the man a taste of his own medicine, leaving Myron’s fate to be decided by the results of his actions over the last fifty years.
If there was still a way for commoners to survive in this world, then he would have a way too.
If he died, it was a result of his own making; he should not complain, let alone regret.
A moment later, Joan returned to Nantes City.
In the eyes of the Crow Messenger and Lia, he had only disappeared for a few short seconds.
They hadn’t noticed anything unusual at all.
The sound of clinking armor rang out.
The Crow Messenger, now a crow, circled the “Demon King.”
She glanced back casually and, surprisingly, spoke in a human voice, asking in confusion, “Huh? Where is the City Lord? I heard him screaming like a pig just now…”
“Ate him. Burp.”
Joan lowered his voice, feigning a raspy burp.
This was the first time he had spoken.
A cold light flashed in the Crow Messenger’s obsidian eyes.
“What, do you want to be a little dessert for my peerless general’s stomach too?”
Lia laughed, half-threatening and half-joking.
The Crow Messenger fell silent for a moment before smiling as well.
“I was just going to ask if this general is full. Should I bring Myron’s daughter over? Children’s meat is more tender.”
“No need,” Lia dismissed the idea nonchalantly.
“My general has a quirk—he only eats bad people. He says they’re chewier.”
“…What a unique preference.”
“Hmph. Good teeth lead to a good appetite. How else do you think he grew so big?”
Lia bluffed shamelessly.
Sensing Demon King Ria’s perfunctory attitude, the Crow Messenger stopped asking questions.
She flapped her wings and took flight, leading the way.
She intentionally increased her speed to the limit, wanting to test the true strength of this Demon King.
But strangely, no matter how high or fast she flew, the master and servant pair always trailed behind her at a leisurely pace, using a method that looked almost like teleportation.
They followed her like two lingering ghosts.
This method of movement was far more terrifying to her than the Demon King growing four pairs of angelic wings and flying laboriously.
With a chill running down her spine, the Crow Messenger didn’t dare to test them further.
Soon, she led the two to a secluded castle, which seemed to be a secret residence of the Archmage Xela.
Xela Service had already prepared a banquet in the garden, quietly waiting for the arrival of the two “distinguished guests.”
With a flash of movement, Demon King Ria appeared in the seat opposite Xela.
This silent arrival caused Xela’s pupils to contract slightly, and she felt a surge of respect because she hadn’t sensed even the slightest fluctuation of mana.
She carefully scrutinized Demon King Ria.
Through the flimsy concealment spell, she easily discovered the abnormality of the other’s physical body.
It didn’t look like a demon but more like something reconstructed from strange substances.
However, this was perfectly logical—after all, according to the war reports, the Demon King had been sliced into mincemeat by the Hero.
She didn’t doubt the identity of Demon King Ria.
On one hand, the other person’s aura was immense, matching the pressure the former Demon King had once given her.
On the other hand, that eerie movement from earlier was completely consistent with Demon King-class combat power.
Since the person possessed both the will and the power of a Demon King, whether they were real or fake, it was best to treat them with the respect due to a true Demon King.
“Ha~ You don’t seem afraid of me?”
Lia grinned, revealing two small, sharp canine teeth.
“The world hustles for profit, and the world bustles for profit. The war is over, so it doesn’t hurt to blur the lines between our positions. Today, we won’t talk about state affairs—only business.”
Xela looked like a young noblewoman in her prime, but the moment she spoke, she sounded solemn and old-fashioned.
Even when talking business, she didn’t have the craftiness of a worldly merchant; instead, she gave the illusion that she was discussing a refined matter.
“Business?”
Lia weighed her words, her mind racing as she tried to guide Xela into revealing more information without making Joan suspicious.
“You aren’t deliberately targeting the Hero?”
Xela shrugged, her black skirt fluttering like petals in the wind.
“It’s not that we are targeting the Hero; it’s the Hero who is targeting us. Converting agriculture to commerce, using Magic Slaves for labor, and optimizing farming methods—these are the trends of the Thousand River Territory’s development. It is the Hero who insists on going against the tide.”
“Did you never think about how many people would die in the process?”
Lia’s expression became somewhat subtle.
“I know, but it can’t be helped. Advanced production methods must always phase out the backward ones. Besides, I didn’t do it myself; I just gave it a gentle push from behind. To blame someone, blame their bad luck.”
Xela’s expression was indifferent, and her tone was casual, as if she weren’t talking about the life and death of millions of refugees but a few insignificant ant nests.
“But there seems to be no need for such haste. Changing things year by year, over seven or eight years or even ten, would be smoother than this,” Lia continued to probe nonchalantly.
“True.”
Xela sighed.
“But I have no more time. I can’t afford to wait any longer.”
She opened her eyes wide and stared intently at Lia.
“The day after tomorrow is my 80th birthday…”
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