Chapter 58: Echoes of the Demon Realm

He saw the mysterious passenger’s appearance for the first time.

Sitting across was a freckled young man, slightly taller than Nolan, barely reaching adult height.

He wore a rough, dark brown tunic, with short black hair brushing his ears.

His face was unremarkable, save for those striking crimson eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Nolan steadied himself against the wall, rising slowly.

“Ah—just couldn’t sleep, overheard your talk, and got curious.”

The young man spoke politely, then said:

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gareth.”

“I’m Nolan,” the boy replied, glancing at me.

I buried my face in the shadows, silent.

“Well—do you mean something’s off about our story?”

Seeing my silence, Nolan turned back to Gareth.

“Not off, just… intriguing,” Gareth said, hands resting on his knees, speaking candidly.

“You said ‘not a fairy tale’? What… the talking fish?”

“Heh.”

Gareth grinned.

“Exactly.”

“What, you’re saying there’s really a cursed princess, turned into a fish by her stepmother, drifting in this sea?”

Nolan frowned.

“Hm… not quite.”

Gareth seemed to backtrack, teasing:

“But you should know, even the wildest sea tales, twisted and exaggerated by sailors, often have a kernel of truth.”

“Uh…”

Nolan looked puzzled, waiting for more.

Gareth spoke like a scholar, continuing:

“That so-called Breleton Isle princess? No such island exists. The name’s a mistake—it’s ‘Breton’ in truth.”

Hearing that odd, awkward name in the empire’s tongue, my pupils shrank again.

Nolan blurted:

“Breton? The Demon King’s city?”

Gareth nodded with a smile.

‘Exactly,’ I thought.

In the far north, in the polar wastes unfit for humans, the demon clans once threatened the world.

Now faded for centuries, the terrifying symbol of Breton, the Demon King’s city, was a mere legend.

“So, you’re saying this story’s princess… isn’t human?”

Nolan asked, eyeing Gareth.

“Correct.”

Gareth’s lips curled, his face flickering in the lamplight’s shadows:

“Even if you know little, you’ve heard the hero-slaying-Demon-King tale, right? The empire’s dominance in the north and south owes much to the demon clans’ retreat centuries ago.

The Demon King, ruling with fearsome power, was slain by a human hero over six hundred years ago. Without that unmatched Demon King, the demons scattered, leaderless.

So, this fairy-tale-like story actually hints at the power struggles in the demon royal family after the Demon King’s death.

The king’s bloodline was betrayed, exiled. The usurpers lacked unity. The ‘cursed princess’ is a lost heir of Breton, cast out, fate unknown.”

“Uh… that’s a bit far-fetched.”

Nolan’s face showed awkward doubt as he countered:

“From what I’ve heard, aren’t demons just mindless beasts, driven by raw power and magic? The Demon King was just the strongest of them. I’ve never heard of a demon ‘royal family.’”

“That’s your ignorance—oh, no offense, just stating a fact. Your knowledge of demons is shallow. If you doubt me, why not ask the lady beside you?”

Gareth shrugged dramatically, his crimson eyes burning as they fixed on me.

“Tiya? What’s she got to do with this?”

Nolan glanced at me instinctively.

Gareth explained:

“She looks like a northern highlander—green eyes, high nose, skin pale as snow.”

“Stop judging people’s looks. This has nothing to do with Tiya,” Nolan said, his tone sharp, stepping to shield me from Gareth’s probing gaze.

“You should hear me out.”

Gareth pressed, undeterred.

I shook my head.

“In the northern highlands, near the demon wastes, folk tales about demons abound. I’m sure the lady knows.”

“You should—”

“Nolan, he’s not wrong about the demons.”

I tugged Nolan’s sleeve lightly.

He turned, stunned.

My fingers pressed, signaling him to step aside.

I met Gareth’s gaze again:

“Demons aren’t a single race. They’re a collective of species born under the north pole’s intense magical radiation. They share some traits from their magic origin, but they’re not really a ‘race.’”

Recalling the novel’s lore, I spoke to Nolan but kept my eyes half-lidded, fixed on the black-haired, red-eyed youth:

“Most, as you said, are mindless beasts, no different from magical creatures. But some have intelligence, culture, and societies—these are the ‘noble’ demons, akin to the empire’s aristocracy.”

I clenched my teeth subtly, noticing Gareth’s surprise at my detail, but continued calmly:

“What unites these varied, unevenly intelligent species is the source of their power—the wellspring of magic.

We don’t know where that vast magical radiation came from or what its true nature is. But the demon who controls it holds absolute dominion over all demon tribes—the so-called Demon King.”

I sighed deeply, lowering my head, hiding my expression in the dark.

Clap! Clap clap!

Nolan stared at me, eyes wide, digesting my words.

Gareth clapped lightly:

“Exactly, miss. I didn’t expect such a perfect explanation. Even a scholar of demon lore couldn’t say it better. So, you believe me now?”

Gareth’s triumphant gaze turned to Nolan.

Nolan stiffened, reluctant to concede, yet my words rang true.

It was just idle chatter with a stranger, like drunken villagers prattling about emperors or heroes.

No need to argue so seriously.

But… something felt off.

This guy’s claims were too grandiose.

“No big deal, just say what’s on your mind,” I said, patting Nolan.

His spine locked, tensing instantly.

“But even if this story reflects demon royal struggles, how did it become a sailor’s tale? Do demons, long gone from human lands, sail and trade now?”

Nolan raised his head, asking.