Chapter 49: The Story We Write

Skipping rapidly through the bulk of the story, she flipped the pages backward, her gaze landing directly on the ending.

Lamia had cast Wade in the role of the Silver Knight, the protagonist.

‘Then what about me? As the Demon King, what role do I play in White Knight Wade’s story?’

*Thump.* Wade heard the resounding beat of his own heart.

‘Yes, what exactly is Lamia’s role…?’

‘Am I the Demon King to be vanquished, or… a wife who will stay by my side for life?’

Lamia silently lowered her head, her fingertip hovering over the story’s final page, unmoving.

Her eyes settled on the concluding lines.

“The Silver Knight and his beloved nestled in a cottage overflowing with flowers, the fireplace casting a warm glow. Outside, the world they had saved was tranquil and peaceful. The hero, who had weathered many storms, had finally found his true home.”

As Lamia read these lines, she naturally recited them silently in her mind. Consequently, Wade, who was privy to her thoughts, also heard the story’s conclusion.

He had read this book before. Though opening it often lulled him to sleep, he had indeed seen its contents.

However, much like Lamia, he had likely read it backward.

He simply preferred happy endings.

He favored the most clichéd, “pizza-party” type of ending, where everyone gathered together.

As a knight, he aspired to be a hero. His purpose was to protect everyone, ensuring they could live happily with smiles on their faces.

This was why he cherished uplifting stories, tales where the protagonist’s companions overcame hardships and ultimately found happiness.

He wanted to be that kind of person, not a man who constantly wore a mournful expression, having lost everything.

Thus, he had long since seen the novel’s ending, and it was precisely the kind he loved most.

The hero quelled the storms, settled the mortals’ affairs, and led his beloved away from the imperial city to live an ordinary life in a small town.

It was a simple ending, perfectly aligned with humanity’s aesthetic of happiness.

‘Home.’

The word gently struck the Demon King’s heart, carrying an unfamiliar weight.

Subconsciously, she glanced at Wade, who was “asleep” beside her. His breathing was steady, and his eyelashes cast faint shadows beneath his eyelids. Ordinarily, he wore his neat knight’s uniform, his posture always straight and tall. Even when clad in White Knight armor, he maintained that regal bearing, his long face sternly focused on the book.

Yet now, he was relaxed, sinking into the sofa, his hand loosely still grasping the book.

‘Is this peace? Is this the tranquil happiness the knight in the book yearned for?’

‘[If we follow the character assignments of this book… then I am the “evil Demon King” who will eventually be defeated by the Silver Knight, becoming the sacrifice for his happiness.]’

These words clearly reached Wade’s ears, and the emotions embedded in her thoughts resonated precisely within his heart.

‘Such… a role…’

This self-perception stirred a faint irritation within her. It wasn’t anger, but rather a sense of… unwillingness to accept.

She flipped forward through the pages, reading the knight’s story.

The Silver Knight in the book always knew what he fought for, was tender and loyal to his beloved, and showed no mercy to his enemies.

Lamia recalled the sharp flash of his sword as he struck at her, and also the sight of him blushing furiously over a few words she had learned and repeated.

‘A beloved… and an enemy.’

For the Silver Knight, these were two opposing sides.

One was the heroine by his side, and the other, the evil antagonist he had to fight.

‘Then what about me, to Wade?’

‘[In his heart, what role do I play?]’

‘If he, too, were to become the protagonist of a story, just like this Silver Knight—’

‘[No, don’t be him.]’

‘[Don’t become some Silver Knight.]’

‘[This King—will absolutely not accept such an ending.]’

Wade had heard the Demon King’s voice before.

At that time, he was known as Kares Lux.

The Demon King would also refer to himself as ‘This King,’ mocking him, the seemingly tireless intruder, with an arrogant and haughty tone.

That previous night, after encountering Lamia in her armor, Wade had mused that her voice sounded far more delicate, completely at odds with her rough, armored exterior.

Now, however, perhaps it was the atmosphere, but a strange feeling stirred within Wade’s heart as Lamia uttered those “long-unheard” self-appellations.

Despite being the Demon King, despite her perpetually arrogant demeanor, he detected a thread of loneliness in those simple two words of self-address.

‘[A boring story…]’

Lamia closed the book gently, careful not to disturb the “sleeping” Wade.

She didn’t return the book to Wade’s hand, instead holding it herself, her fingertips unconsciously tracing its cover.

She ran her fingers over the embossed silver of the word “Knight.” Then, lifting her lowered head, she gazed at Wade, who was still feigning sleep beside her.

‘[Our story—it shouldn’t be like this.]’

She moved closer to Wade, her warm breath and subtle scent enveloping his nose.

“Wade, White Knight, my enemy… my husband.”

She spoke each word distinctly, as if intending to engrave her sentiments into his mind.

“Shall we be a little more affectionate with each other?”

She leaned against Wade, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Lilith had told her that if she wished, she could whisper her thoughts into Wade’s ear while he slept, and his subconscious might then conjure similar dreams.

So Lamia spoke, right then, while Wade was “asleep.”

Yet Wade heard every word, perfectly clear.

Her voice, her emotions—everything was so distinct.

Perhaps, even, this was Lilith’s own little “game.”

Telling Lamia she could speak while Wade was asleep, but secretly hoping for the effect of him “not actually being asleep at all.”

‘Why would she want to see that?’

‘Oh, don’t ask such tasteless questions.’

Lamia’s words hung in the air, met only by silence.

‘Of course… of course it’s like this. He’s asleep, after all.’

It was precisely because he was asleep that she could utter such words into his ear.

“Let’s be more affectionate.”

“Like me a little more.”

“Trust me a little more.”

“More…”

“In your heart… make more room for me, my husband.”

The only response remained silence.

She couldn’t hear Wade’s increasingly frantic heartbeat, for her own heart was already thumping wildly.

She pressed her lips together, falling silent.

Then, in the midst of that quiet, she lowered her head again, resting it against Wade’s arm.

Wade still said nothing, simply remaining a silent cushion for Lamia.

‘[…White Knight.]’

Lamia squinted at the book she had tossed onto the table.

The story’s ending was happy and peaceful, but everything hinged upon “defeating the Demon King.”

But—

‘White Knight.’

‘[The Demon King in your story won’t be defeated so easily.]’

‘[Nor will she be content with merely being a villain.]’

This was a silent declaration, proclaiming her resolve.

Wade absorbed all these thoughts. He twitched a finger, wanting to reassure Lamia, who was leaning against him.

‘Why are you saying such things?’

‘Why is there such emotion in your words?’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be the Demon King? The proud, arrogant Demon King…’

If these were ordinary spoken words, Wade might not have given them much thought. After all, she often spoke pompously, feigning emotions.

But today was different.

Today, he was “asleep,” so he wouldn’t hear her voice.

‘So, does this mean… these are her true “thoughts”?’

‘But why would it be like this…? Where was the haughty Demon King?’

****

The atmosphere around them remained somewhat subdued. Wade could sense Lamia’s continued despondency.

‘Should I do nothing? Just lie here… imagining the expression on her face with my eyes closed?’

‘But if I open my eyes, won’t it expose what just happened—’

“Mmm… Lamia?”

‘—To hell with all that!’

‘After all, I’m her “husband” now! Not some “incompetent husband”!’

With that resolve, Wade shifted, pretending to have slipped off the sofa. After a deliberate nod, he opened his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes feigning sleepiness, then looked at Lamia, who was leaning against him.

“Ah—you’re awake? Were you very tired? You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Upon opening his eyes, he was met with Lamia’s smile. Her cheerful tone made it seem as though all the thoughts he had heard earlier were merely illusions from a half-asleep state.

‘No, not an illusion.’

‘Look, the book is still on the table.’

*The Silver Knight and the Sword that Guards the World* lay quietly on the table, its silent presence proving that the words Wade had just heard were no dream.

“Mmm… I was indeed a bit sleepy. Are you tired too, Lamia?”

Wade didn’t ask why she was there, nor why she was leaning so close.

Wade didn’t want to ask anything, or rather, it wasn’t the right time to ask.

‘What should one do when feeling tired?’

‘Try to figure out why I’m so tired? Find the source of the exhaustion and start self-reflecting?’

‘That’s insane.’

‘Who would make someone do that when they’re tired?’

So, Wade asked nothing.

Because when you’re tired, you need rest! You need to burrow into bed and sleep for a whole day! And when you wake up, then you can yell at the person who made you so exhausted to vent your frustrations…!

‘Wait, if that’s the case, will she scold me?’

‘I… I shouldn’t have made her this tired, right?’

‘Forget it, I don’t care.’

Wade didn’t bother with those troublesome thoughts. He withdrew his arm from his casual shirt-jacket and offered half of his garment to Lamia.

He knew this thin clothing offered no real warmth, and it wasn’t cold outside, so there was no need to deliberately cover up.

However, the feeling of being enveloped offered an irreplaceable sense of security.

It was like when he was a child, feeling wronged and burrowing into his covers, wrapping himself up tightly. That sense of secure enclosure was irreplaceable.

Even if it was just a simple thin shirt, merely having it draped over him could evoke that feeling.

“I… I see you’re tired too, aren’t you?”

Wade chuckled, then put an arm around Lamia’s shoulders, drawing her closer to him.

“Let’s rest here together for a while.”

Lamia looked up at Wade. He appeared as if he had suddenly woken from a dream, then, in a daze, pulled her into his embrace before quickly drifting back to sleep.

Though, in reality, Wade hadn’t been asleep at all.

Lamia remained silent, her thoughts a soft sigh.

She pressed a little closer to Wade, resting her head on his shoulder, and gently closed her eyes.