Chapter 120: A Gaze Transformed

The elders in the village had not failed to notice the subtle shift in Wade’s gaze whenever he looked at Lamia.

Previously, his eyes had always held an inexplicable vigilance, coupled with a keen, almost clinical observation.

Ordinary folk often found it peculiar. Why would a man look at his own wife with such a scrutinizing gaze? While it was true their marriage had been a whirlwind, a product of youthful impulsiveness, such an intense stare seemed unwarranted.

However, this curiosity did not linger for long. Just over a month later, the look in Wade’s eyes when he regarded Lamia transformed.

The suspicion and observation had significantly diminished, replaced instead by a profound attentiveness—a deep interest in every action Lamia took, every response she offered.

Yet, today, his gaze seemed almost *too* persistent.

From the moment Wade and Lamia emerged together, his eyes had been fixed firmly on her back—so intensely that those around them began to feel the weight of his stare.

Lamia, however, remained unfazed.

She had certainly noticed Wade’s gaze, but it brought her no pressure. Instead, she turned to him with a cheerful greeting, informing him that the egg tarts were almost ready.

Lamia had grown accustomed to such scrutiny. The heavy, the observing, the watchful eyes… sitting in her position, countless demons had fixated on her for various reasons.

Even when she shrouded herself completely in black armor, their venomous gazes seemed to pierce through her, seeing her to her very core.

Thus, Lamia did not care.

Or perhaps, caring would have been futile.

Knowing it was meaningless, she simply chose not to dwell on such things.

‘Watching me?’

[It doesn’t matter… if they like to stare, let them stare. It won’t change anything anyway.]

‘Those gazes of expectation, or those of blame… it’s nothing significant. I’ve long grown used to them.’

Wade was startled by Lamia’s inner voice. He had indeed been watching her intently, but he never expected such a thought to suddenly surface in her mind.

Wade quickly averted his gaze, as if realizing how impolite it was to stare so directly.

“They’re almost ready! But they need to cool for a few minutes first, otherwise, they’ll burn your mouth.”

Lamia turned around, a smile gracing her lips. Despite the somberness of her thoughts, her expression remained bright and cheerful.

Was being a Demon Lord such a source of anguish?

If Wade were to reflect on his own journey as a knight, he would conclude that his life had been astonishingly smooth.

Was there hardship? Yes.

Were there setbacks? Yes.

Was he lonely as an orphan? Yes.

Did he nearly lose his life fighting to survive in his youth? Of course, there was that too.

But now, sitting in his current position, he felt incredibly fortunate.

At only twenty-eight, still a young man, he had already become an assistant to the Grand Commander of the Knight Order, enjoying the same privileges as a Vice Commander.

Vice Commander Valen was also young, even more accomplished than Wade, but his background was impeccable. As the sole heir to a knightly family, he had always been a top-tier talent, consistently ranking first. For someone like him, a mere connection was enough to guarantee a high-ranking position within the Knight Order.

But what about Wade?

He had no distinguished lineage, was an orphan, and his past was riddled with misdeeds, having been apprehended by the authorities countless times. The only notable achievement he could truly claim was perhaps ‘My Savior, the Pope’—a testament to his role in salvaging the increasingly declining Festival of the Holy Son.

It wasn’t as if he was truly useless, merely basking in the Pope’s glory.

It was precisely for this reason that his ambition was to become a hero, a liberator for all, and to live up to his own ideals. This was not only for the people but also for himself, to find greater peace and justification for the smooth path his life had taken.

Yet… what about Lamia?

As the Demon Lord, she was still suppressed by the Great General, subjected to gazes of disdain, and even deprived of the chance to sleep.

She didn’t even know what it meant to ‘like’ something.

****

Lamia approached Wade, carrying a plate of perfectly warmed egg tarts, and gently pushed the golden pastries towards him.

Perhaps this was what a normal life entailed: days divided by breakfast, lunch, and dinner, living an ordinary existence.

Wade glanced at the butler, and the young man, his personal attendant, understood immediately. They had been together for quite some time, ever since Wade became a rising star in the Knight Order.

He had heard Wade joined the Knight Order at seventeen, and in less than a decade, became its third-in-command. In the eyes of this young butler—who was even slightly younger than Wade—Wade was nothing short of an idol.

Therefore, he could not possibly misunderstand Wade’s unspoken instructions.

The butler subtly motioned for the surrounding servants to vacate the dining area, leaving Wade and Lamia to their private moment.

The servants, of course, asked no questions and harbored no doubts. It was perfectly understandable for a young couple to cook and chat. So, they dispersed quickly, returning to their respective duties.

“Here, have a taste.”

Lamia smiled brightly, as if the slightly melancholic thoughts from earlier had never been hers. She winked at Wade, her eyes full of anticipation for his reaction to her cooking.

Wade would not disappoint her. Since Lamia awaited his judgment, he certainly wouldn’t launch into irrelevant philosophical discourse. He took the egg tart Lamia offered, not with his hand, but by biting directly into it, as if in an intimate feeding gesture.

Lamia seemed accustomed to such small actions. Holding the egg tart in one hand and propping her face with the other, she watched Wade lick the lingering crumbs from his lips with the tip of his tongue. Then, in his eyes, she saw satisfied delight.

“Delicious.”

Wade’s eyes widened slightly, as if marveling at Lamia’s culinary skill.

“Hehe.”

Lamia, too, chuckled proudly, her smile significantly more natural than before.

“Don’t just feed me; you should eat too. You haven’t had breakfast either, have you?”

As Wade spoke, he directly took the remaining half of the egg tart from Lamia’s hand. He then went to the nearby cabinet, typically used for condiments, and retrieved the bottle of magic stone powder that was a permanent fixture on Lamia’s dining table.

It was used so frequently that the bottle appeared almost empty.

This was of no consequence; it wasn’t something that required restrained use. For Lamia, it was as essential as seasoning was to humans.

“Ah, thank you.”

Lamia accepted it with a cheerful smile, skillfully sprinkling the magic stone powder onto the several egg tarts beside her. Wade then sat down opposite her, returning to his original seat.

Everything was ordinary, mundane, exactly as Wade envisioned his future.

“If it could always be like this… that would be wonderful.”

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