Chapter 17: Unsettled Appetites, Unspoken Farewells

Yunajin could eat no more.

Gazing at the half-eaten meal on the table, a distinct fullness settled in her stomach.

“Meredith…” Yunajin, her face etched with worry, looked towards Meredith, who stood nearby. “Could you examine me? Am I ill?”

“My Lady Demon Lord, what makes you say that?”

“Ever since returning from the Steelhoof Tribe, I’ve felt drained and my appetite has dwindled. See for yourself…”

Having said this, Yunajin proceeded to devour a three-pound tomahawk steak. Holding up the bone, she gestured to Meredith. “There’s still so much food left, and I simply can’t eat anymore.”

The Demon Lord’s meals were always prepared according to her usual requests and habits; ordinarily, Yunajin would finish everything and still have room for dessert.

Yet now, she found herself nearly full after just this much.

“Am I truly sick?” Yunajin asked, her voice tinged with concern.

A flash of purple light flickered in Meredith’s eyes. After a few breaths, she spoke with certainty, “I detect nothing amiss. Your Lady Demon Lord’s current feelings are likely due to the suppressive effect of the ‘Demon Lord’s Armament,’ which your body has yet to fully adapt to, causing this sensation of weakness.”

“This thing is truly a nuisance.”

The jet-black sword lay nestled between Yunajin’s legs. Meredith had repeatedly admonished her to carry her weapon at all times, asserting that only then could its restrictive power be fully effective.

‘There’s nowhere to put it even when I’m eating. Am I expected to carry it with me while I sleep or bathe?’

Twilight’s Elegy was astonishingly heavy. Though it appeared to lean against the chair, Yunajin was actually holding it with a slight squeeze of her legs to prevent it from touching the ground.

As if discerning Yunajin’s thoughts, Meredith stated, “Tonight, I shall construct a proper stand for your weapon.”

“Go now! I’m utterly exhausted; please, hurry!”

Meredith, unable to refuse her, bowed respectfully and withdrew.

“Sigh…” Yunajin sighed, surveying the substantial amount of uneaten food. “Vivi, would you kindly help finish this? Also, inform the kitchen to serve half portions from now on.”

“Understood, My Lady Demon Lord.”

While slimes were not typically scavengers, they were not picky eaters when necessary. Despite the abundant magical energy within the Demon Lord’s castle, Vivi had no need to eat and felt no hunger.

The black-haired maid gazed at the lavish feast on the table, her throat involuntarily bobbing.

How long had it been since she last ate? Various raw ingredients, transformed into uniquely flavored dishes, offered tastes that Vivi, having sampled cooked food, found utterly captivating.

Yet, Vivi always maintained her composure, even though, in that moment, she yearned to revert to her true form and swallow the entire long table whole.

“My Lady Demon Lord, Lord Hero appears to be as troubled as you are.”

“Hmm?”

Yunajin followed Vivi’s gaze. At the far end of the table, Qiaolun sat, staring blankly at the cold, fried pork chop on his plate.

His cutlery remained untouched; he hadn’t eaten a single bite of his dinner.

“Lord Hero,” Yunajin called softly.

‘According to our agreement, tomorrow is the day of the duel. Either I kill the Demon Lord, or I die by her hand.’

“Qiaolun?” Yunajin tentatively tried his name.

‘What is this battle truly for, I wonder? In all my days at the Demon Lord’s castle, she has treated me as an honored guest, often doing things that seemed comical and speaking nonsense. Moreover, I’ve felt no animosity from her.’

‘The Demon Lord is not as cruel and cold-hearted as the rumors suggest. Sometimes, she seems more human than any person I’ve ever met.’

‘Did she meticulously plot, risking war between our two races, just to bring me here?’

‘How could I not understand? The enemies I encountered along the way, despite their formidable strength, seemed eager to clear a path and invite me through.’

‘Why? What is the meaning of this? To treat an enemy in such a way…’

“Qiaolun.” The girl’s voice suddenly echoed in his ear.

Qiaolun snapped out of his reverie, realizing that Yunajin, who had been sitting far across from him, now stood beside him.

“Are you feeling unwell?” she asked with concern.

Yunajin wondered if Qiaolun’s sword, so similar in form to her own, also possessed a power-suppressing ability. Was he experiencing the same discomfort as she was?

“No… nothing at all.” Qiaolun’s gaze darted away. He abruptly stood up, leaving a bewildered Yunajin behind as he departed the table alone.

“Hey, you…”

Yunajin pondered his thoughts. Did he have some reservations about tomorrow’s battle? Or had she perhaps done something to displease him?

The Demon Lord cast a puzzled glance at Vivi, who stood nearby. Vivi merely shrugged, indicating her own lack of understanding.

Yunajin had arranged Qiaolun’s accommodations to be just one floor below her own, situated at the top of the ancient castle. From there, he could overlook a large portion of the Demon Lord’s city. Though its scale was not as grand as the United Kingdom’s capital, Aldelit, its lights at night shone with extraordinary brilliance. Faintly, the scent of roasted meat drifted up from the market.

‘How did I even manage to break into this heartland of the demon race?’

Qiaolun, a newcomer, had stormed into the city amidst a chaotic din of shouts and battle cries. He vividly recalled a barrage of magic spells exploding wildly around him, yet none ever touched him. The Minotaur chieftain, whose form swelled to the size of a small mountain in battle, had stumbled and crashed through his own front gate before Qiaolun even laid a hand on him…

“Quite laughable, isn’t it?”

Qiaolun leaned against the balcony railing, the night breeze ruffling his silver-grey hair.

“This entire charade was orchestrated by that individual. Perhaps the Demon Lord’s work is too monotonous, and anyone in her position would seek some excitement.”

“Like a naive princess who stumbles upon a new toy… Hah, at least her heart isn’t entirely wicked.”

Qiaolun withdrew his gaze from the city below and looked at the luggage placed in the corner of his room. He had already decided to leave tonight.

To defeat the Demon Lord, to become a hero—Qiaolun had come this far driven by a fervent passion.

Had he lacked this resolve, the Demon Lord likely wouldn’t have even spared him a glance.

‘Everyone desires to be the savior of their race, a heroic figure—elves, demi-humans, and countless other non-human civilized races.’

‘Their abilities far surpass those of me, a mere human.’

A sense of melancholy weighing on his heart, Qiaolun drew Dawn’s Hymn from its sheath. A brilliant silver light instantly dispelled the surrounding darkness.

‘This sword can greatly enhance my power, serving as the antithesis to the Demon Lord’s weapon. Before she fully adapts, this might be the best opportunity to slay her.’

‘The demon race values tradition; therefore, a duel to the death would surely be free from interference. The strong survive, the weak are eliminated. Even if I were to kill the Demon Lord in battle, the demon executives would have no complaints—at most, they would simply execute me.’

‘In other words, this decisive battle with the Demon Lord is an absolutely fair one-on-one.’

A sharp glint flashed across his pupils, vanishing in an instant.

‘No, it’s no longer necessary.’

Qiaolun resolved to leave this place; he refused to be merely a character in someone else’s play.

Even this sword, he would find an opportunity to bury it in a corner of the Demon Lord’s castle. For Qiaolun, it had died in his very first encounter with the Demon Lord.

Even if it was just a casual punch from her.

As the crescent moon slowly dipped below the treetops, and the night grew quiet, Qiaolun prepared to slip away without a word.

He glanced at the Demon Lord’s city, its lights beginning to dim. He knew he would likely never return here in this lifetime.

“Oh, my shoe!”

A delicate female voice, utterly without warning, drifted on the wind. Qiaolun realized it was coming from above.

He turned his head, spotting a pair of fair, small feet kicking wildly in the air.

“What in the world?”