Though he fell victim to Demi Holton’s petty and sinister schemes time and again, Valen remained silent. He could have casually mentioned the atmosphere within the unit to Lady Perima, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to get entangled with her.
As the years passed, he wasn’t unaware that beneath her haughty demeanour, which seemed to trample others, greed lay dormant. Whatever she sought to grasp was none of his concern. The problem was that Valen himself was included among the things she coveted.
“That lunatic, you know? He actually crawled back alive. Doesn’t he get the hint?”
“You brat, do you hate Valen that bastard racking up achievements more than you hate demons harming civilians?”
“It’s disgusting. Just look at him strutting around after sleeping with Mrs. Holton.”
“Feeling bitter because Mrs. Holton wouldn’t give you the time of day? It’s obvious, you idiot. And no one can beat that bastard in a duel anyway.”
“What the hell? How the hell do you beat someone who secretly trains swordplay behind your back? Huh?”
“Seriously? Who?”
The idle gossip he’d dismissed as annoying snowballed at an astonishing rate, and before long, Valen was branded a womaniser who only targeted wealthy ladies. Yet even the persistent whispers couldn’t stand up to his achievements. Most of the soldiers who’d mocked him died on the battlefield or retired crippled, and suddenly Valen became a hero in the human realm.
Those who loved to gossip began weaving mythical elements into his story. He possessed neither divine power to oppose the demon race nor an extraordinary birthright, yet people believed what they wished to believe.
Valen’s fame spread beyond the kingdom to the entire continent, and the King and Lady Perima exploited him politically.
“Why on earth do I need my photograph and portrait for the letter to the Kingdom of Delion?”
“Aren’t you the face of our kingdom? The Queen takes a keen interest in you. Securing military funding would benefit you, your men, and ultimately our people, wouldn’t it?”
“Send that photo to the Queen as well.”
Tourists began flooding into the insignificant small country. Liquor and bread named after Valen became specialty products, and plays featuring him as the protagonist poured out.It was no exaggeration to say that every waking hour of Valen, now a hero, was working time. Wherever he went, he had to show his face to royalty and nobles seeking him out, and beyond that, he poured everything into the war against the demon realm.
Even witnessing comrades and subordinates dying horribly, he had no time to compose himself before changing into cumbersome ceremonial robes. He played the role of a well-bred horse among the high-ranking officials who laughed and chattered elegantly. Once their fleeting interest faded, he was summoned back to the battlefield. Days of being used and discarded, over and over… Endlessly…
If hell existed, this would be it.
Gazes and responsibility stretched out like chains, binding Valen’s entire body. A life where he could do nothing as he pleased. It was miserable, but he had no choice but to submit. All he had learned here was betrayal and despair, yet it was also the only place he could stand with his feet planted.
The doubts that occasionally crept in vanished entirely before he became an adult. Retreat was not an option for him. Killing the demonic beings who had slain his parents and comrades—someday, it would end. Someday.
It was a delusional dream, yet without even this sliver of hope, his legs refused to move. Valen clung to that absurd hope as if it were a lifeline, believing there must be an end.Kill, and kill again, and kill them all until…
Valen, who had been acting so calm as if he would never sleep, passed out in less than ten minutes after lying down.
Argen, who had firmly resolved to endure her sleepiness, felt a slight deflation. Wondering if he was just pretending to sleep, she whispered a funny story she’d heard from Nadal into his ear. It was about Finn needing scissors, so he went to a variety store, but to open the scissors’ packaging, he needed scissors. Argen couldn’t focus on her duties that day, instead writhing with laughter the entire time.
Even after recounting how Finn had gone wild, Valen showed no reaction. She cautiously, slowly poked his smooth, masculine cheek with a soft poke. Still silent.
Zephyr, Finn, and Nadal all had extremely bad sleeping habits. After the sudden passing of Argen’s parents, the late king and queen, the three elders volunteered to be her guardians. They would spend the night patting Argen, who couldn’t sleep alone, until they all ended up tangled together in bed. Each time, heavy limbs would press down on her, and thunderous snoring tormented her eardrums.
Thus, seeing him sleeping so peacefully, even his breathing quiet, was a rare sight.
“He looks so gentle when he sleeps.”
Had any other demon heard this remark, it would have elicited screams beyond mere shock. Argen moved carefully, trying not to wake him, rolling sideways off his body. Pulling the lamp closer to his face, warm light rippled and spread around him.
Seeing Valen asleep for the first time, her eyes kept drifting back to him. His appearance was strikingly different from when he was awake. Judging by his features alone, he had a handsome, delicate face, but perhaps due to the harshness of his life, a raw, ruggedness permeated it. Had he grown up receiving only love, without a chance to mature, it would have been the face of a haughty nobleman standing at the highest point, with nowhere to look but down.
Argen traced the contours of Valen’s refreshingly sharp eyes and his thick, straight eyebrows with her fingertips. The deep eye sockets where darkness pooled low, the sharply defined nose bridge soaring upward, and the lips with their clear, precise line. He was handsome. Truly, incredibly handsome.
Even the elders who had opposed Argen’s marriage had eagerly chimed in the moment they first saw Valen’s face, asking, “Where should we start undressing him?”
“This is truly a peerless beauty!”
“Huh? What beauty?”
“Peerless. A beauty so rare it could save you taxes, that’s what I mean.”
“Brilliant.”
Argen, listening to the elders’ chatter, nodded in agreement. Valen wasn’t one to smile often, but if you were lucky, you might catch it occasionally. When he was extremely angry or utterly exasperated, he’d habitually flash a smile that revealed his dimples. His subordinates unanimously agreed that Valen’s smile was the most terrifying sight, but Argen couldn’t share that opinion.
After a stream of internal reflections, the emotion that naturally followed was guilt.
“Repaying kindness with enmity.”
Valen and Argen hadn’t first met in the demon realm. Valen didn’t remember, but Argen recognised him the moment they met again. Even beneath the crude helmet and armour covering his entire body, she could feel it. That this was the human boy who had saved her life.
Choosing Valen had been an impulse.
Discussions about marriage policies and pregnancy were constant. The elders had kidnapped thirty-seven humans, but they kept releasing them back to the human realm within a week, repeating the cycle.
So, um, do you consummate the marriage on the first night? I have a rather rough taste……’
Every single one of them cared more about getting physical than marriage policy. The elders, seeing the men they’d brought back standing there with their stinking genitals erect, drooling over Argen, finally realised this was something they couldn’t make her do.
Argen was crushed daily by the guilt and responsibility of being a ruler. Then she discovered Valen. Though he was Number 38, Valen was the first human Argen had chosen.
She knew it was wrong to do this to her benefactor. She also knew that the first night they spent together wasn’t a wedding night, but a rape. After taking his body, it wasn’t easy to look Valen in the eye again. One day, two days… After avoiding him for a week…
“I forgot.”
She had completely forgotten. It was right after the great army of the human realm had surged in, so things had been hectic. But that was all just an excuse. It was entirely her own fault.