Lanqi Would Never Go on a Date with Talia

"Four days in Palieu, the City of Flowers, have flashed past in the blink of an eye." "You've been slaving away at the Batiste estate. Aside from what you spent on materials, every copper saved has gone straight into feeding her. In a rare twist, though, perhaps touched by your backbreaking toil, she's actually begun making you breakfast." "Her cooking is surprisingly good." "Today is the second round of the Kingdom of Posen's Platinum-rank card maker exam, and the Batiste family has brought you along to the Sacred Silver Vine Arena." "Evening is drawing near, and the examination is almost over." Floating in midair, Boss Cat was giving Lanqi a running broadcast of Master Lan's day. Perhaps because it had been barred from showing itself while Lanqi was on duty at the Batiste residence, now that they were at the Sacred Silver Vine Arena, it counted as his break. Naturally, it had popped straight out of the shadows. The setting sun bathed the Sacred Silver Vine Arena, washing the sprawling oval grounds in a brilliant crimson orange. Beneath the towering, open retractable dome, tier upon tier of arched spectator seating cast warm tones across the sandstone walls. Now and then, the clamor of the audience and the instructions of the examiners drifted down. Inside the Sky Sovereign Pavilion, behind the spacious sectional sofas in the Batiste box, a pitch-black spirit cat began circling the butler. "Holy crap! How can that cat talk?!" Christina spun around, staring in disbelief at the little black cat hovering in midair. It had already seemed magical enough when she first saw it in the Posen Demon Realm, but discovering that the creature could actually speak stunned her even more. "Meow, meow, meow." Boss Cat gave the blonde young lady a thoroughly speechless look. Was a tier 8 divine beast not worthy of speech? Plenty of tier 5 and 6 magical beasts could already manage human tongue, for heaven's sake! "My apologies, miss. I told it that it could come out after five-thirty in the afternoon," Lanqi said with an apologetic bow from behind the sofa. "Oh, no problem at all!" Christina was merely fascinated by the cat. Once a blood-soaked arena of an ancient empire, this structure had taken on an ethereal, gentle grace upon its integration into Palieu. It was almost impossible to connect it to the brutal, bloody gladiatorial contests of the past. Instead, it felt more like a silvery, tranquil haven—so peaceful that even the cat seemed thoroughly relaxed. Turning back, Christina looked at Inoan beside her. "Sigh. If the Aquitaine Domain in the south weren't so dangerous, I'd have loved to take you to our family winery. Still, I have a feeling we might actually get a chance to go before long." Christina resumed chatting with Inoan. Down on Posen's southern frontier, in the South Aquitaine Domain, the Batiste family held extensive holdings across agriculture, winemaking, and manufacturing. The local lord was a relative on her mother's side. "You won't be going. That is business for adults," emphasized Kyle, the eldest son of the Batiste family, seated on the opposite sofa. "I know, Brother," Christina muttered, hanging her head in resignation. In the coming period, if war broke out with the Creti Empire in the south, problems were bound to crop up. The frontline commander might requisition their local supplies without consulting the capital, or a sudden outbreak of hostilities might leave their merchant caravans stranded at the border, requiring negotiations with the local army. In either case, someone with authority from the Batiste family would have to head south to coordinate. And should such circumstances arise, Kyle would never let her go—he would handle it personally, having already assumed responsibility for part of the family business. "I'm stronger than you anyway," Christina grumbled under her breath. Her brother hadn't undergone any training whatsoever; he was just an ordinary tier 0 civilian. She, at least, was a tier 2 combatant and a registered first-year student who had passed the entrance exams for the Aloran Royal Academy. "Good grief," Kyle muttered testily to himself, refusing to waste more breath on his scatterbrained sister. In any other household, people would be begging for someone else to step into the line of fire for them. Only this fearless sister of his could have all the family burdens lifted from her shoulders and still pout about it. Christina secretly made a face at her brother, then turned back to Inoan, only to realize the maid hadn't spoken for quite a while. Inoan was frowning deeply, shaking her head from time to time as if nursing a headache. "What's wrong, Inoan?" Christina asked with concern. "I think... I might be from Aquitaine, on Posen's southern border," Inoan murmured, pressing a hand to her forehead. Though she couldn't verify the authenticity of her identification papers, the fleeting, faded fragments in her mind suggested she had lived there as a child. "Is there... a great mountain there, connected to a mountain range, that's covered in white snow throughout the winter...?" she asked hesitantly. "Yes! Mount Aquidans! It's famous throughout our Kingdom of Posen!" Christina nodded vigorously. Then her eyes widened. "Wait, if I take you there, do you think it might help bring back your memories?" According to what Butler Rocky had said earlier, recovering lost memories usually required seeing familiar things or undergoing strong emotional stimulation. Deep down, Christina didn't entirely want Inoan to recover her past. Selfishly speaking, she wished Inoan could stay by her side forever. But if regaining those memories mattered to Inoan, she would do everything in her power to help. "You are not going. At least not until things settle down," Kyle commanded the moment he overheard his sister. "Fine..." Christina pouted. "It's all right, Miss. I'm in no hurry to recover my memories. Everything is wonderful as it is. Please don't put Young Master Kyle in a difficult position," Inoan quickly interjected, casting an apologetic look at Kyle. "Well, we can't go for now, but I promise you, I'll definitely take you to the southern border to see Mount Aquidans!" Christina's face bloomed into a smile as she wrapped her arms around Inoan in a firm embrace. "Mm..." Feeling that such intimacy from her mistress was somewhat improper, Inoan tried nervously to pull away. Unable to break Christina's grip, she could only let her gaze drift toward the distant nobles to gauge their reactions, offering a soft assent. Lanqi watched the pair with a faint smile. With Inoan around, even if Christina decided to dismiss him, he wouldn't need to worry about the Batiste household. Though it hadn't been long, his time working for the Batistes had been quite enjoyable—or rather, his stay in Palieu had been delightful. Turning his head, he directed his attention back toward the holographic screen in the Sky Sovereign Pavilion. A titanic clash was currently unfolding before them. The artificial shadow world simulated a shattered temple encircled by soaring stone colonnades, carved with crisscrossing bas-reliefs depicting ancient battle formations from the mythological era. On the central plaza altar, two heavily armored figures were locked in a duel to the death. One valiant combatant was completely clad in magma-hot crimson armor, wearing a fiery iron-horned helm and brandishing a scarlet spear in his right hand. The other was a six-armed, three-headed demon clad in ceremonial plate armor, wielding multiple weapons, his physique forged as if from pure steel. As the audience watched with bated breath, the crimson-armored warrior thrust his spear. Instantly, dazzling torrents of molten lava surged from the spear tip, hurtling toward the demon. The iron demon swung his battleaxe with a ferocious roar, razor-sharp blades of condensed air gathering on the edge, forcefully cleaving through the oncoming blast of heat. Unfazed, the warrior held his ground as the surrounding stone melted into bubbling magma. Scalding lava erupted continuously from the earth, congealing beneath his feet within moments into a crimson colossus nearly three times the height of a man. The demon had already bounded into the air, his axe screaming down toward the colossus's head in a violent spray of molten stone! This was the centerpiece of the second round of the Platinum-rank card maker exam: the Deck Testing. Deck Testing was the most direct assessment of a card maker's comprehensive skill. Under specified constraints, candidates were required to craft a cohesive tactical deck on the spot. That deck was then assigned to an intelligent projected construct within the artificial shadow world for an automated live-combat simulation. "Rocky, who do you think is going to win?" Christina asked anxiously, craning her neck toward the butler standing behind the sofa. "I haven't the faintest idea," Lanqi offered helpfully. He wasn't an examiner for this round; how was he supposed to predict the outcome? Besides, if he were tossed in to craft a deck under those constraints, he would only churn out bizarre contraptions of his own, leaving victory entirely up in the air. Just then, a voice rang out through the audio feed. "Hold on." The entire artificial shadow world seemed to freeze. The order had come from a split-screen feed displaying a white-haired young nobleman participating via a remote communication link. He appeared to be under thirty years old. Countess Rosalinda, the chief examiner on site, and Vice Examiner Bruton both paused, waiting quietly for him to speak. "Adjust the environmental weather. Increase fire affinity by five percent. Balance the base stats of the demon and human constructs, and increase their base attack values. Otherwise, we won't be able to test their upper limits," he instructed. "However, selecting a demon construct already makes it more difficult to adapt magic cards. Arbitrarily tweaking the numbers could compromise its inherent racial traits," Countess Rosalinda said with slight hesitation, addressing the white-haired inspector over the live link. "Do as I said." The inspector offered neither debate nor explanation, giving only a flat command. Exhaling softly, Rosalinda proceeded to adjust the parameters according to his demands. Bruton, the Platinum-rank card maker acting as vice examiner for this round, merely sat aside in silence. The other man held higher authority, after all. "Who does this guy think he is, acting so smug, meow?" Boss Cat asked, staring up at the arena's massive screen in bewilderment. "Oh, him? He's an inspector sent from the Card Makers Association headquarters in the Kingdom of Canbera over in the Western Hub. He's a Platinum-rank card maker too," Christina explained, turning back to the little cat. She tried to beckon Boss Cat with a wave of her hands, but the cat steadfastly refused to let her hold it. "Countess Rosalinda is the chief examiner, yet she has to take orders from him?" Boss Cat looked between the screen and Christina. The white-haired nobleman on screen, named Lokins, wore his long, silver-white curls tied loosely behind his head, the tips flaring upward. His eyes were clear as ice, and his lips carried a perpetual sneer of superiority as he occasionally jotted notes on a magitech tablet. He had already stepped in to direct the proceedings several times, virtually usurping the authority of Countess Rosalinda. Whenever an assessment made by Rosalinda raised a doubt in his mind, Lokins would click his tongue in irritation and issue orders for an adjustment. "That's right. As long as it aligns with regulation, Lokins, as a headquarters inspector, holds higher authority than the chief examiner. But the real reason he's putting on airs and bossing everyone around is because he doesn't get along with Countess Rosalinda," Christina continued. "Why is he so free that he can meddle in the Eastern Region's exams, meow?" Boss Cat's eyes widened. It had found Countess Rosalinda quite pleasant; she had graciously treated it, Lanqi, and Tata to tea and snacks earlier. She didn't seem like someone who went around making enemies. "The Western Hub has plenty of Platinum-rank card makers, so scraping together three examiners is child's play. They don't need him over there," Christina said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "The truth is, he just utterly despises Mikhail." The root of the issue was Duke Mikhail. Countess Rosalinda hadn't offended Lokins, but she had always maintained close ties with Duke Mikhail. Consequently, Lokins loathed Countess Rosalinda by association. It was said that the year Lokins attained the rank of Platinum card maker, he had been the center of continent-wide attention—until Mikhail emerged from the relatively backward Eastern Region, completely overshadowing him ever since. To this day, he had never forgiven Mikhail. "Certain members of the audience would do well to stop murmuring. Don't think I can't hear you." A cold voice resonated from the screen, Lokins's gaze seemingly boring right through the display toward the Batiste box. Christina started in surprise, only for Kyle to lunge forward and clap a hand over her mouth. "Hold your tongue, Christina! He can hear you!" His sister truly had no filter. The venue clearly possessed audio-monitoring devices sensitive enough to transmit even hushed remarks back to Lokins in the Western Hub. If they crossed a Platinum-rank card maker, their family might find itself unable to conduct business with even Gold- or Silver-rank card makers in the future. A single word from Lokins could prompt any card maker wary of his displeasure to blacklist the Batiste family entirely. "What an absolute idiot..." Christina glared murderously at the arrogant nobleman on screen, even with her mouth clamped shut. Policing the audience, of all things! Is this how the grand lords of Canbera carry themselves? Yet despite how thoroughly this headquarters inspector from the southern continent grated on people of the eastern nations, the venue still harbored a swarm of fervent young female fans. Waving glowing support placards, they erupted into shrieks of adoration every time Lokins spoke. Lokins feigned indifference, though he clearly relished the adulation. Following the brief calibration, the screen returned to the simulation. The crimson magma colossus completely ignored the savage axe strike, sending the steel demon hurtling through the air with a crushing backhand swat. The demon tumbled several times in midair, only to see several crimson magma meteors plummeting from the sky toward him with a deafening roar. The tide had begun turning in favor of the crimson warrior. Yet unexpectedly, the obsidian embedded in the demon's chest flared with pitch-black flames. A chasm several meters deep split across the altar grounds, channeling a surge of cursed energy that deflected the full might of the meteors right back at his foe. Seeing his attack countered, the warrior's eyes blazed. The magma armor across his body radiated blinding light as the internal combustion intensified. Fissures tore through the plaza in all directions, molten rock gushing from the depths. At last, both combatants unleashed their final, all-out strikes simultaneously. Two violent torrents of mana collided with cataclysmic force, sending out terrifying shockwaves. As brilliant crimson and deep black intertwined, the entire projection shattered! Blinded by the sudden flare of radiance, the audience instinctively raised their arms to shield their eyes. When their vision cleared, the screen faded from pure white back to the ruined temple. The crimson warrior was down on one knee, while the steel demon remained standing. With the match concluded, the butler plucked the floating black cat from the air and set it on his shoulder. "Young Master Kyle, my shift is about over," Lanqi said, bowing slightly beside the young nobleman. "Oh, go right ahead," Kyle replied. In truth, Butler Rocky's working hours had ended shortly after five o'clock. He had merely stayed on to keep them company—or rather, it looked as though he had simply been waiting for someone. *** By the time Lanqi met up with Tata after her exam and stepped out of the Sacred Silver Vine Arena, the streets of Palieu were bathed in the dying glow of the setting sun. They strolled along the sidewalk of Palieu's District 6, admiring the sunset dipping beneath the distant horizon. "How did it go? The inspector's interference had me a little worried you might lose, but it looks like he didn't even force out your full strength," Lanqi said to Talia beside him. "A walk in the park." Hearing what sounded like praise, Talia cast him a slightly haughty side-eye. Today's second round had proceeded in a fairly typical manner. Normally, the passing rate for each round of the Platinum-rank card maker exam hovered around a quarter to a fifth of the candidates. After three rounds of filtering, it was common for two or three consecutive exam cycles to yield not a single passing candidate. The first round on Magical Engineering Principles had been an extraordinary anomaly, with the vast majority of candidates passing and many securing remarkably high scores. That very irregularity had prompted the Southern Continent Card Makers Association headquarters to dispatch an inspector to oversee the Eastern Region's proceedings in real time. "Your score this round looks to be slightly higher than Karen's, but you'll still need to beat her by a wide margin in the third round if you want your average score to come out on top," Lanqi analyzed. Talia might not have seen Karen's performance from the waiting area, but Lanqi had been watching closely from the Batiste box. While the average score had no practical bearing on certification—only grade points and a pass/fail determination mattered—their private wager hinged entirely on who ended up with the higher total. "Oh? Is this a professional appraisal from Examiner Lanqi?" Talia asked, shooting him another knowing glance. Her expression clearly demanded that if he had more compliments, he should keep them coming. Hearing Lanqi's praise after finishing her exam had put her in quite a good mood. "I'll say no more." Lanqi flashed her a smile and picked up his pace. "..." Talia's fists clenched instinctively. She could tell the scoundrel was doing it on purpose. "I'm going to be an examiner in the next round, after all. I can't show subjective bias. I must maintain an objective stance when evaluating you," Lanqi explained with an air of professional detachment. "And what would your appraisal look like if you added subjective bias?" Talia asked, intrigued. So his earlier words had been purely objective—he genuinely believed she was formidable. "Ahem, cough, cough, cough!" Lanqi suddenly cleared his throat several times, as though stricken by a sudden tickle. "Feeling unwell? How about I brew some medicine for you when we get home tonight?" Talia asked, resting a hand gently on his back while biting her lip. Lanqi hadn't uttered a single word, yet she understood him completely. Perhaps the fellow truly did need medicine—something to cure him of that sharp tongue of his. "..." Cold sweat broke out across Lanqi's forehead. He had momentarily forgotten that this woman held absolute dominion over the kitchen. If she decided to slip some poison into his food, he had no realistic way of resisting. "Lanqi, are you alright?" A man's voice called out from ahead. "Fine, perfectly fine!" Lanqi answered quickly, seizing the chance to deflect Talia's attention. The voice was familiar. Looking up, the two saw Executioner Nigel walking toward them, evidently looking for their company. Nigel had removed his military cap. His neat short hair and resolute features carried an air of authority in the twilight, though his expression toward the two of them was noticeably warm. "Apologies for interrupting you two," Nigel said, glancing at Lanqi and Talia standing remarkably close together. Both instinctively took a step apart, feigning unfamiliarity. "Would you mind joining me for a chat at the café nearby?" Nigel asked, gesturing toward a stylish establishment along the tributary of the Selena River. All the while, his gaze swept their surroundings. He had known that once the second round concluded, he could find Lanqi and Tata near the Sacred Silver Vine Arena. For now, he detected no signs of surveillance or pursuit. In an urban human district, attempting to shadow an Executioner was generally more dangerous for the pursuer than the target. "Not at all." Lanqi and Talia agreed and followed Nigel toward the commercial district along the riverbank. Dusk had quietly settled, yet the Palieu night carried no chill, cloaked instead in an alluring, hazy warmth. The surface of the river mirrored the brilliant lights of the embankments, meandering through the heart of the city like a flowing ribbon of starlight that imbued the air with a crisp, moist freshness. Through the night of Palieu, Executioner Nigel led Lanqi and Talia to an open-air café. Perched by the water, the café possessed an understated elegance under the amber glow of the streetlamps. Stepping across wooden stairs inset into the stone-paved ground, they ascended the path leading to the second-floor terrace. White wrought-iron tables stood arranged beneath outdoor canopies, their fabric shades swaying gently in the breeze. Taking seats at a riverside table on the open terrace, they ordered three espressos. "I'm sorry for cutting into your rest," Nigel said. "Don't mention it," Lanqi replied with a wave of his hand. Nigel was among the few friends they had made in the Kingdom of Posen; an invitation from a friend to spend time together was something to welcome, not regret. To one side of the terrace stood towering Posen plane trees, their dense canopies casting dappled shadows in the night breeze under the scattered streetlights. From here, one could take in the nocturnal beauty of the Selena River's tributary in its entirety. A waiter gracefully served three steaming cups of rich espresso, the rising vapor carrying the fragrant aroma of coffee through the air. Nigel activated a portable magitech device, deploying a localized soundproof barrier. "Will you two have any free time after the final round of the Platinum-rank card maker exam on Sunday?" he asked as the three took small sips, easing into conversation. "We will. Once the exam wraps up, our schedules are completely open. We were planning to explore Palieu properly," Lanqi answered after exchanging a glance with Talia. In truth, their journey through Posen was drawing to a close. According to their itinerary, after Lanqi finished proctoring the final round, they would spend two more days in Posen before returning to the Hutton Kingdom. Much as they would have liked to spend more time exploring the Posen Demon Realm, their schedule did not permit it. If they lingered any longer, no one could predict whether the Creti Empire to the south might launch a northern offensive. Once war erupted, securing passage back to Hutton would become immensely difficult. "This Sunday evening, I have to attend a demon banquet in District 10 of the Demon Realm. I have a bad feeling about it." Nigel made no direct request. He simply shared his schedule for Sunday evening, speaking almost as though he were putting his affairs in order. "What's going on?" Lanqi asked. "Based on my current investigation, traces of this curse-spreader date back over a year. He is far more likely to be a demon than a human. However, the residual spell matrices he left behind exhibit patterns that do not belong to modern demon script. Rather than the demons native to our Posen Demon Realm, he resembles an ancient demon who crossed over from the Northern Continent in recent years. That deduction makes me increasingly uneasy..." Reaching into the inner pocket of his coat, Nigel produced a magitech containment cube assembled from interlocking mechanical components. He unlocked it before Lanqi and Talia. Inside lay a scrap of cloth scorched by deep-blue flames. "Two days ago, during our search in the Demon Realm, we had a brief clash with the curse-spreader. This was the only trace we managed to salvage from the victim," Nigel explained. Though Nigel harbored little hope and loathed to burden Lanqi and Tata, the pair possessed the ability to lift curses and might discern clues that had eluded him. He was reasonably certain Tata was stronger than himself—perhaps possessing formidable strength capable of facing the curse-spreader head-on. Lanqi turned his gaze toward Talia. This was her exact area of expertise. Not merely a demon, but a primordial, ancient demon—no one understood them better than Talia. Nigel had truly hit the mark by chance, unwittingly asking the Demon Lord herself to authenticate the sample. Perhaps this was what one might call the destiny of demons. "Is it the man who placed the curse on Miss Lizanthia at the station?" Talia asked, reaching out to gently hover her hand over the scrap, closing her eyes to sense the residual mana. The reason she and Lanqi had been attacked aboard the *Floating Castle*—confronting the berserk pastry chef Lizanthia—was entirely because a mysterious man had cursed Lizanthia beforehand. "Yes, the very one from the recording I showed you," Nigel confirmed. This was the most critical lead the Senate's Execution Force had secured in recent days. Even so, it had cost several comrades their lives. The opponent was exceedingly dangerous. Had the perpetrator not been reluctant to prolong the fight, prioritizing evasion over slaughter, the casualties would have been catastrophic. Even Nigel could sense the terrifying aura of a high-tier demon lingering in the residual mana. "Are you certain this curse-spreader does not belong to your Posen lineage?" Talia asked, her brow furrowing deeper the more she analyzed the mana. "Positive. It's completely different," Nigel declared firmly. "..." Talia fell into thought. As she analyzed the sample, Lanqi took a quiet sip of his coffee. *Have you ever seen this kind of mana or spell matrix before? During the holy war a century ago, besides the great demons from prominent clans who survived, could other powerful demons have endured?* he asked Talia through their mental link. A tier 8 demon wasn't guaranteed to pass the Great Demon Trial and earn a crest; without three crests, not even a tier 9 combatant could claim the title of great demon. Moreover, highborn nobles like Sinora and Pranay, having secured crests of character and martial might in the trial, could more readily receive crests bestowed by elder great demons to assemble the three required crests. *I don't know every single demon, but I'm certain that none of the powerful demons within our hierarchy ever possessed mana like this,* Talia replied telepathically. Had an ancient demon of such exceptional caliber existed back then, she would have known him. "This mana signature resembles an entity from the Calamitous Wasteland," she finally stated aloud after a prolonged pause. Both Lanqi and Nigel blinked in surprise. Nigel clearly hadn't considered such a possibility. And though Lanqi had visited the Northern Continent, he had spent his time along the southern coast in the Protos Empire, where the term was rarely mentioned. The Calamitous Wasteland was an intensely unstable region situated at the edge of the world. As for records detailing it, the Protos Imperial Library held only a sparse handful of folios. "I've read ancient chronicles mentioning that the Calamitous Wasteland in the Northern Continent connects to a lost land, and that lost land might harbor other demons and humans," Talia explained. Of course, those were merely tales preserved in the royal archives before the fall of the demon nation; their veracity remained unproven. Even a tier 8 powerhouse risked their life stepping into the Calamitous Wasteland, and no one knew where it ended. Sensible people didn't go wandering across it. "I see," Lanqi mused with mild interest. An uninhabited territory at the edge of the world held little appeal for him; what caught his attention was Talia's premise that another branch of demons might exist. Nigel looked at Tata in confusion, wondering how she knew so much. Yet he refrained from prying, knowing better than to dig too deeply into the secrets of an ally. "Meow." Curled on Lanqi's lap, Boss Cat looked between Tata and Lanqi as silence descended over the table. When they had first sat down, Palieu had still been painted in shades of sunset. As time slipped by, the twilight faded, cloaking the city in dusk. The sky deepened into an indigo expanse, punctuated by glistening stars. "By the way, haven't you been to the Northern Continent?" Talia asked, glancing at Lanqi. "If he's a mysterious demon who arrived from the Northern Continent a few years ago, he probably hasn't heard my name," Lanqi murmured. Back then, the legend of Rocky McCarthy had yet to begin in Protos. Boss Cat kept its thoughts to itself, though unpleasant memories were stirred. It recalled that during their time in the Protos Empire, they hadn't learned much about the Calamitous Wasteland either. Protos sat on the southern coast, while the wasteland lay far to the extreme north. For a native of the Southern Continent like Lanqi, such remote lands held little interest. Even if a tale were set upon a lost continent, Lanqi was unlikely to be its protagonist. "Who on earth do you think you are? Do you honestly believe your name echoes across the entire Northern Continent? I was asking if you had heard of *him*," Talia retorted, amused by his answer. "I haven't," Lanqi admitted, shaking his head. "Though a friend in the north did mention that an unidentified faction of demons appeared to be lurking there." He remembered Sigrid mentioning in a letter that the panic in the northern reaches of the Protos Empire had originated from the appearance of mysterious demons. *Could it truly be a sinister demon from beyond the Calamitous Wasteland?* Talia wondered silently. *Ancient legends in the royal demon palace tell of an unknown, powerful demon who once infiltrated the Demon Realm. When captured and interrogated, he was found to have come from the far side of the Calamitous Wasteland. His spells and artifacts were exceptionally perilous. Even so, he was ultimately released because the crown wished to avoid unnecessary enmity,* Talia conveyed telepathically, sharing what little she recalled. Such lore was likely known only to herself and Ephatia now. Then again, Ephatia might not know it either, given her distaste for reading. *In other words, the one spreading curses in Palieu is very likely an elusive demon outside your established hierarchy?* Lanqi asked through their mental link. If that were true, the unrest in northern Protos and the betrayal of Duke Morotian suddenly formed a coherent picture. *It cannot be ruled out,* Talia agreed. "..." Nigel watched as Lanqi and Tata exchanged glances for an extended silence, unable to fathom how the two communicated so seamlessly without uttering a word. He tactfully held his tongue. "In short, Nigel, Tata's assessment indicates the culprit is indeed very likely a demon rather than a human, and certainly not one of the old demons from the holy war," Lanqi said, turning back to Nigel upon noticing his patient gaze. Talia's eyelid twitched. She could have sworn Lanqi placed an inexplicable emphasis on the phrase "old demons." "Understood." Nigel nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. Confirming the perpetrator's race was a crucial piece of intelligence. He had privately harbored suspicions about his mentor, Lord Polman. Among the tier 8 demons whose prowess matched the curse-spreader he had tracked over the past two days, only Lord Polman of District 10 and Lord Etio of District 9 fit the profile. Hearing Lanqi and Tata's conclusion drastically reduced the suspicion hanging over Lord Polman. As for Etio, she had served as Mikhail's attendant in the past and had always been the demon lord most sympathetic toward humanity; it was virtually impossible for her to be the culprit. That left a high probability that the true culprit was a mysterious demon who had infiltrated Posen from the outside in recent years. His range of movement was almost certainly confined to the Posen Demon Realm. Given the Senate's sudden border lockdown over the past few days, any demon attempting to disguise themselves as a human to enter Palieu's city districts risked immediate capture. The perpetrator had never anticipated that Lizanthia's curse would be purged, allowing the authorities to extract intelligence and triggering a cascade of countermeasures from the Senate. "By the way, Nigel, you mentioned you're attending a demon banquet this Sunday evening? Were you hoping we would come along?" Conversations often looped back to where they began. Lanqi recalled Nigel's opening inquiry. Nigel clearly hesitated to impose on them, yet he had asked about their availability. "I'm worried a curse might be unleashed at my mentor's banquet. With our dragnet closing in across the Demon Realm, the curse-spreader is bound to grow increasingly desperate. The enemy's timeline is accelerating, and the final clash could erupt at any moment. That banquet will assemble many of the Posen Demon Realm's most prominent figures," Nigel explained with a bitter expression. If a demon went berserk and caused a disturbance during the gathering, Posen demon law dictated that the berserker had to be executed on the spot to avoid giving the Senate a pretext to intervene. With friction already running high between the Posen Demon Realm and the Senate, the demons were determined not to hand the Senate ammunition to suppress them. Should an outbreak occur, Nigel wasn't sure he could convince the other demons present to let him take the victim into custody. A fight might easily break out. To the other demons, Nigel was a hound of the Senate, hardly worthy of trust. Surrendering a berserk demon to his custody would look like walking straight into a Senate trap. His recent clash with Astaroth had already left him in an impossible bind. He could neither explain that cursed demons could now be cured nor expose Lanqi's existence. Fortunately, Lanqi possessed an established cover identity as Rocky McCarthy, which wouldn't compromise his departure from the country. If Rocky McCarthy—capable of lifting curses at a moment's notice—accompanied him to the banquet, Nigel could subdue and cure any cursed individual the moment an outbreak occurred. "So as long as the curse-spreader decides to cause trouble at the banquet, we can lift the curse on the spot to win over the other demons and enlist their help in capturing him, right?" Talia summarized bluntly. The culprit would almost certainly seize the opportunity to bait Nigel. If Nigel intervened to protect a cursed demon and drew the hostility of the assembled demons, the perpetrator could eliminate him without fail, perhaps without even having to step into the open. "Precisely," Nigel nodded. He could feel an ominous tension building to a breaking point across Palieu. Accelerated by Lanqi and Tata's inadvertent interference, a decisive confrontation in the City of Flowers seemed poised to unfold ahead of schedule. "Then we'll go with you," Lanqi answered without hesitation. "Thank you." Nigel hesitated for a moment before offering his solemn gratitude. "We were planning to visit the Posen Demon Realm once our work was done anyway, and we don't have any friends familiar with that territory. You can show us what a high-society demon banquet looks like," Lanqi said with a smile. Leaving the curse unchecked would allow it to spread further, which might ultimately endanger Hyperion and the others. "It's getting late. Let us meet outside the Sacred Silver Vine Arena on Sunday evening," Nigel said, offering no objection to Lanqi calling them friends as he bade them farewell. A glance at his pocket watch showed the hour was advanced. Lanqi and Talia nodded, watching Nigel's silhouette disappear down the stairs leading into the café's interior. Without realizing it, they had talked for quite some time, and the night had completely enveloped Palieu. The warm lamps on the terrace and the flickering candlelight on their table cast a soft, golden sheen over the open-air venue. Lanqi gazed past Talia's shoulder, watching the dark waters of the river. "Are you going to win on Sunday?" he asked softly, a touch of reflection in his tone. Sunday marked his final official assignment, as well as a pivotal examination for Talia. Only if Talia passed smoothly would they be able to enjoy their excursion into the Posen Demon Realm. "..." Talia ignored him. Only someone like Lanqi would offer a cocky, affirmative answer to a question like that. The man was far too self-assured; sooner or later, he was bound to fall on his face. "If you treat me better right now, I might be in a better mood when I grade you during the third round on Sunday," Lanqi remarked, his smile bright and lively as a shimmer of light on a summer night. "You wouldn't," Talia said. If he were the type to let personal feelings seep into his work, he wouldn't have gone so easy on Karen in the first round. Having observed him for so long, she understood Lanqi more and more. This man never took offense. Every pore of his being exuded a lofty tolerance toward secular conventions—a tolerance so boundless that he would indulge you endlessly, to the point where you felt vulgar and inadequate in comparison, until you were driven half-mad and could think only of running away. She was certain Lanqi harbored no desire for revenge against Karen. Talia hadn't intended to intervene at first, knowing Karen would discover the truth sooner or later. But when Karen tried to step on her head, the nature of the matter changed. Besides, she couldn't stand seeing others push Lanqi around. "Are you saying only you're allowed to bully me? Were you always such an overbearing princess?" Lanqi asked in mock surprise, as though reading her mind. "..." Seeing Tata freeze, Boss Cat could easily guess what she had been thinking and what Lanqi had just deduced. *Good grief, Great Master Lan, meow! Did you read too many romance serials, meow? Did you really have to translate that out loud?* Boss Cat knew Lanqi understood women remarkably well. Yet sometimes, translating a girl's inner thoughts out loud only created agonizing embarrassment. Such behavior was far worse than that of an oblivious blockhead. "You look quite composed when riding high, but the way you beg for mercy beneath me is truly comical," Talia whispered, leaning in close to his ear. Her voice, cool and laced with disdain, dripped with mockery. A light scuffle of footsteps sounded from below. Having just settled the bill, Nigel hurried past the foot of the stairs, awkwardly pretending he hadn't seen them as he quickened his pace toward the exit. "No, no, Mister Nigel! It's not what you think!" Lanqi called down hastily. "I didn't hear a thing!" Nigel called back over his shoulder. "By the way, the Kingdom of Posen hosts a Fireworks Festival on the last day of August every year. It's a wonderful day for a date, right after the Platinum-rank card maker exam wraps up. Rumor has it the priests of the Temple of the Goddess of Love dress as demons that day, hunting down deeply affectionate couples to parade them before the crowds!" "We are not going on a date that day!" Their expressions twisted simultaneously as both barked down the stairs in unison. Their relationship had certainly not reached the point where they would go gallivanting together on an occasion like that!