The moment Minel said yes, the entire auditorium erupted into a boiling uproar of gasps and applause.
In the back rows, spectators practically leapt to their feet. Cheers and blessings rose in waves, and some in the crowd even broke into a unison chorus of sanctuary hymns of benediction.
The stately main performance hall of the Ikerite Opera House instantly morphed into what seemed like a flash-mob marriage proposal. Even the musicians in the orchestra pit picked up their instruments and struck up a melody.
In the front row of the VIP section.
"..."
Minel rolled her eyes back; she felt today was well and truly over for her.
Holding her hand, Lanqi wore a grim expression, beads of cold sweat dotting his forehead.
It hadn't needed to reach this fever pitch.
Yet the moment Toryardo led the band into that tune, the heat had been cranked all the way up, reducing the whole thing to a bubbling, inescapable stew.
The actors on stage froze in their tracks, staring at this completely unforeseen development.
None of them had expected the male lead to pull off a stunt like this out of nowhere.
Now, only Toryardo played with rapt dedication, filling the hall to the brim with the unmistakable ambiance of a proposal scene—
Even though it was still the chill of February, the romantic notes seemed to carry the warmth of spring blossoms and floral fragrance, ushering in an unexpected love on a gentle breeze.
The audience's cheers surged higher and higher, wave after wave.
"Uuu..."
In the back rows, another lady broke down in tears.
Countess Rosalinda covered her face with one hand, weeping as she watched the sudden commotion down in front. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that her greatest rival wouldn't be Iphatia, but rather her dear junior brother, Lanqi.
All her years of companionship couldn't measure up to Lanqi's single, caught-off-guard invitation.
Could it be that because Lanqi had rescued Minel back then, Minel had secretly given her heart to him ever since?
"Rosalinda, are you alright? I... I think this might just be a misunderstanding," Aetio said, patting Rosalinda's shoulder, her voice dwindling into utter uncertainty as she spoke.
Though Aetio didn't understand what was going on either.
From her perspective, the sight of Lanqi and Minel holding hands was simply too explosive.
"Do I even have to queue up just to be the losing dog?!"
Rosalinda finally burst into loud wails.
She stood no chance of winning on any track.
Even if Hyperion had to pick a stepmother, she'd pick Lanqi over her!
The more Countess Rosalinda thought about it, the more bitter she felt, and there wasn't even a drop of liquor within reach to pour down her throat.
"This..."
Antanas and Sinnola watched the spectacle unfolding before them.
The entire hall seemed to have gone mad—some were roaring with laughter, some were weeping, and others sat in stunned silence.
The background music was buoyant and celebratory, but the more joyous it sounded, the more heartbroken Iphatia's sobbing became. They had no idea how to console Iphatia, nor how to even evaluate the fact that Lanqi had chosen neither Sigrid nor Talia nor Hyperion, but had chosen Iphatia's sister-in-law, Minel, right before their eyes.
"Wait."
Antanas began to ponder.
Logically speaking, if even Talia hadn't cried, why was Iphatia crying like this?
To make Iphatia this despondent, it was as if her true love had been snatched away by Lanqi.
"No way?!"
They exchanged shocked glances.
Recalling the myriad suspicious clues they'd encountered during their exploration of the ducal manor, along with Michaea and Iphatia's reactions whenever the secret underground chamber was brought up, a startling hypothesis gradually formed in their minds.
Minel was Michaea?!
Antanas and Sinnola covered their mouths one after the other.
Now they understood Pranay.
One really ought to have slipped away early. But in this chaotic theater, leaving was entirely out of the question.
Minel felt the burning gazes of Antanas and Sinnola boring into her back, so intense that her skin pricked with phantom pain.
"Wahhh..."
Iphatia wept inconsolably.
She looked just like a helpless child.
Her sobs caused Minel excruciating agony and weighed even more heavily upon Lanqi's conscience.
The romantic music played by Toryardo, mixed with Iphatia's grief-stricken crying, felt more hellish than the nuclear fusion music classroom back at Purgatory Corridor Academy.
Amid the clamor and commotion, the eyes of both press and public were fixed unwaveringly upon Lanqi and Minel.
"Let's move then."
"Mm."
Lanqi and the dark-haired noblewoman could only grit their teeth and endure this excruciating ordeal together, trading whispered murmurs while holding the media's attention.
He stood up, gently drawing the dark-haired noblewoman up from the VIP seat as well.
With the two of them serving as the theater's lightning rods, Loren ought to be able to slip away unnoticed under cover of this farce.
Their acquaintances all around them stood dumbfounded.
Lanqi could feel question marks radiating from both Talia and Sigrid.
Though a merciless media blitz lay ahead, along with countless apologies owed to the troupe, family, and friends, he and the Duke wouldn't owe Loren anything ever again.
"Uuu."
Watching Minel about to be led away by Lanqi, Iphatia seemed to finally grasp the irrevocable reality.
"Wait, don't go!"
Weeping, she sank to her knees and grabbed Minel's hands with both of hers.
Under ordinary circumstances, the first person she would turn to for help was her elder brother.
Yet the one who had proposed this was Lanqi himself.
And Minel had agreed with her own lips.
"Please..."
Just as Iphatia was about to plead, the words stuck in her throat, reducing her to trembling gasps.
On the surface, Minel was merely her sister-in-law.
She had no rightful grounds to stop her brother from leading her sister-in-law away.
"You must treat her well... You must never..."
With tears clinging to the corners of her eyes, Iphatia implored Lanqi.
Just speaking those words made her choke back a heartbroken sob, and she buried her face in her hands.
At that moment.
The reporters in the rows behind seemed to experience a revelation of their own.
"SHOCKING! The Duchess also secretly harbors feelings for this lad, shedding bitter tears upon witnessing his confession to another woman!"
Luvishir scribbled these words furiously into her notebook.
She was certain that she wasn't the only one; her media peers would undoubtedly arrive at the very same conclusion.
Sitting in the front rows, one could easily hear the buzzing chatter behind them.
The Duchess was crying with such sheer agony that it was obviously raw, genuine emotion—something that couldn't possibly be faked.
"Good heavens... were all those rumors about Professor Landry at Saint Creti Monastery actually true?!"
Marquis Ryan, the Ninth War God visiting from abroad, held his head in his hands, barely able to watch any longer.
He had long heard the gossip floating around Saint Creti Monastery. But because those tales about the wicked Landry were so preposterous—claiming the professor's ultimate ambition was to marry his sister-in-law's husband as well, not sparing a single member of the family—Ryan hadn't believed a single word even while under the vampires' thrall back then.
Now, the more he watched, the more authentic it seemed. This trip to the Kingdom of Hutton would supply him, Ursula, and their circle with gossip for an entire year.
"On top of three fiancées, he had scandals with a silver-haired cutie and a long, straight black-haired wife, meow?"
Bianca also remembered the wild rumors circulating Saint Creti Monastery.
Yet what unfolded before her eyes was clearly an even more explosive reality.
She had heard that the male lead was close to the young ducal lady, but who could have guessed he was actually here to join the family!
"Spectacular," Salon murmured under his breath.
Today's ticket had truly been worth every copper.
He hadn't anticipated an encore performance. The grand stage of Hutton was simply magnificent.
"Meow..."
Boss Cat curled into a tight ball, pretending to know nothing at all.
Having shadowed Lanqi all day, it had pieced together most of the cause and effect.
In the end, it hadn't expected Michaea, Iphatia, and Lanqi to implode together like this.
Before the uproar in the Ikerite Opera House could subside, uniformed theater security personnel summoned and organized by Abigail trotted in through various entrances.
Moving practicedly through the aisles, they began guiding the audience out with gentle firmness.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the performance has concluded. Please follow directions and exit in an orderly fashion," the supervising officer's voice broadcast through the surround-sound system across the entire hall. "Please take all personal belongings with you, attend to the elderly and children in your party, refrain from lingering in the aisles to take photographs, and watch your step."
The journalists were naturally reluctant to depart. Even as security shielded the area, they held up their cameras, snapping as many extra shots as humanly possible.
Flashes flared in rapid succession, pooling into a dazzling sea of light beneath the golden dome.
Security had no choice but to form a human wall around the front-row VIP section and stage, carving out a secure passage.
Seeing their view completely obstructed, spectators rose reluctantly to their feet. Still enchanted by this unforeseen romance, they chatted in groups of two or three, their pace sluggish. Some still took stealthy photos, their hushed whispers and chuckles echoing amongst the velvet seats.
The security supervisor had to repeat his reminders again and again:
"The performance has concluded. Please do not linger by the handrails; keep moving forward in an orderly queue..."
The opera house staff tasked with clearing the premises worked systematically across designated zones. Moving between rows of seats, they meticulously checked for forgotten personal items—silk scarves, crumpled programs, abandoned ticket stubs—tidying up the theater with practiced efficiency.
Nearly half an hour later, the bustling crowds had finally dispersed from the main performance hall.
The cavernous auditorium settled into a peculiar stillness.
The space that had just been bursting with noise now retained only a handful of duty lamps.
Warm yellow light washed gently across rows of empty seats, casting dappled shadows over the red velvet.
The crystal chandeliers had reined in their brilliant gleam, emitting only a faint glow as if weary themselves.
Carvings along the dome drifted in and out of the dimness, silently watching over this rise and fall.
Faint traces of perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with the crisp scent of fresh blossoms to whisper of the recent jubilation.
The last opera house staff member gently drew the doors shut, the clicking echoes of leather soles fading into the distance of the vast hall.
The performance hall had at last shed all the brilliance and clamor of the day.
As dusk settled, Toryardo and Abigail, who oversaw the troupe, cleared the stage while waiting for the final few to depart.
They had deliberately dismissed the rest of the troupe early, without calling on other theater staff to assist.
Below the stage, only Lanqi and Sigrid remained, discussing the day's events.
Though Antanas and Sinnola were a little frightened, their concern for Hypie kept them lingering behind, listening in on the gossip.
As for Minel, she had departed early with the weeping Iphatia.
Some things were simply easier to explain back at the ducal manor.
Remaining any longer at the opera house would only breed further awkwardness among them, making explanations more tangled by the second.
To each soothe their own was the consensus Lanqi and Minel had reached.
"..."
On stage, Talia had separated from Hyperion, listening in silence to the exchange between Lanqi and Sigrid.
Hyperion remained fast asleep, resting her head on Talia's lap, tended to by Talia.
"I have to hand it to you—how did you even manage to drag old Mi into imploding with you?" Sigrid shook her head with a sigh.
"My thinking was that I needed someone who could instantly grasp my intent, someone with enough buzz, and someone with whom things would be easier to clear up afterward. The only possible candidate was Lady Minel. I just never expected Sido to strike up such an agonizingly fitting melody right then. I really must thank him from the bottom of my heart."
Lanqi was convinced that Toryardo deserved immense credit for so spectacularly seizing the entire media's attention today, though it was hard to say what motive Toryardo had harbored while fighting back snickers at the piano.
Up on stage clearing props, Toryardo's lips twitched uncontrollably.
Even if he were hunted to the ends of the earth by the Cardinal of Fanatical Love and the Night Cardinal from now on, he felt no regrets whatsoever.
What was laying down his life compared to this?
"Stupid pig, get to work!"
Abigail whacked him over the head with a rolled-up paper, ordering him to focus and work honestly.
With things ending in such a state, she felt deeply guilty toward the Duke and Iphatia.
Toryardo was unquestionably the covert war criminal of the day.
Suddenly, upon Talia's lap, Hyperion slowly opened her eyes.
"Is the performance over?"
She sat up abruptly, looking around.
"Mm," Talia nodded.
"Was it a success?" Hyperion asked Talia again.
Seeing Talia the moment she opened her eyes gave her an overwhelming sense of security.
"A tremendous success. Having you perform tomorrow will be a stroke of divine genius," Abigail said to the newly awakened Hyperion, putting her mind at ease.
"Phew... thank you, Tata."
Hyperion wrapped her arms around Tata in gratitude.
She had feared today's show wouldn't go smoothly, but thankfully Tata had been in the dressing room.
"You should thank Lanqi. He was the one who salvaged the stage, and maybe even... elevated tomorrow's show to new heights."
By now, Talia had learned from Abigail what the true public release script for the Half-Demon chapter was supposed to be.
She had nearly become a war criminal herself.
As expected, she couldn't afford to be so overconfident in the future, nor could she keep stubbornly competing with Lanqi.
Every time, they egged each other on into escalating bets; if they kept this up, one of these days their hotheadedness would cause something truly irreversible.
"Lanqi, thank you for your hard work! Mwah!"
Hyperion released Talia and cheerfully blew a kiss toward Lanqi.
Yet she noticed the few people remaining in the hall.
And the peculiar atmosphere.
A puzzled look crossed her face.
Looking at Antanas and Sinnola, Hyperion felt as if something monumental had occurred in this hall. Rather than simply waiting and listening in, they looked more like a jury listening to the post-trial verdict.
"Hypie, the situation is complicated. We'll explain slowly once we return to the ducal manor," Talia told Hyperion, taking her hand as she rose, preparing to lead her off the stage.
Today's farce wasn't actually difficult to untangle.
At bottom, it was merely their group paying off their debt to Loren.
Yet for Hyperion, who held the most complicated web of relationships with everyone involved, making sense of it might prove far more difficult.
"Can't you tell me just a little?"
Hyperion followed Talia down from the stage, her curiosity piqued.
By all accounts, she had slept for barely three hours.
Yet according to Talia, what had unfolded offstage couldn't be summed up in a few sentences?
"..."
Talia lowered her head in thought.
How should she put it?
For the first time, she felt a distinct lack of storytelling prowess.
At that moment, she looked toward her old friend Antanas seated in the audience.
Back in the Demon Realm, Antanas had always been brilliant at recounting gossip.
Antanas was undeniably the most eloquent civil official.
"Your husband is trying to steal your dad from your mom," Antanas summarized helplessly for Hypie.
"???"
Was that even the language of the kingdom?
Hyperion's initial reaction was to suspect her ears had stopped working.
"So you see, it really can't be explained in a few sentences. But it was just a farce—let Lanqi explain it to you slowly," Talia said, leading Hyperion over to Lanqi and Sigrid, ready to head home together.
"Alright, clear out, clear out quickly! Ten more minutes at most!"
Abigail clapped her hands on stage, ushering out the principals as well as their friends and family in the VIP seats.
She knew Michaea had to go soothe Iphatia, while over here, Lanqi had three to soothe.
The Brillda theatrical troupe needed to set up the hall quickly to prepare for tomorrow's show; having dismissed the rest of the crew outside had only been to give Lanqi and the others privacy to talk.
"We'll be on our way then. See you at the ducal manor later," Antanas and Sinnola bade farewell to Hyperion and the others, heading up the steps toward the exit.
They had already promised Iphatia they would visit the manor, and this was the perfect chance to comfort little Iphatia.
Iphatia possessed excellent psychological resilience; once she understood what had happened, she would be beaming again in no time and enjoying the evening's celebratory banquet.
In that regard, both demon princesses hailed from an exceptionally optimistic family, possessing a mindset quite unlike ordinary folk.
"Lanqi, Lanqi, tell me, what on earth did she mean by you trying to steal my dad from my mom?"
Having heard Antanas's words, Hyperion was utterly bewildered.
The "husband" Antanas mentioned undoubtedly referred to Lanqi.
Yet Hyperion wasn't certain whether "her mom" and "her dad" referred to Iphatia and Michaea.
"It all began with that wager between Adams and me back then. It was precisely because of the bet I made on Dean Loren's behalf during the Aloran Royal Academy academic visit that Dean Loren's date with Miss Juliana was arranged..."
Full of remorse, Lanqi recounted the past.
The further back he traced, the clearer it became that this was a chain of karmic retribution.
Every fruit reaped today was from a seed he had sown back then.
Lanqi then gave Hyperion a concise rundown of the entire day's events.
"So you were covering for Dean Loren the entire day?"
Hyperion listened in utter bewilderment.
In the morning, Lanqi had covered for Loren at the Golden Bee Amusement Park; in the afternoon, he had covered for Loren at the Ikerite Opera House.
And then Lanqi had nearly become a member of her household?!
"No wonder you looked so exhausted today, Lanqi. You truly are something else," Talia said, crossing her arms and glaring at Lanqi in exasperation.
Having heard the detailed account, she finally grasped many of the karmic links she hadn't considered earlier.
"Sigrid, you... never mind."
Talia cast a similar glance toward Sigrid, looking ready to lecture both of them.
"Lanqi, you... never mind."
Only Sigrid appeared thoroughly relaxed.
As an accomplice, she had no right to scold Lanqi.
She had just been about to mimic Talia by scolding Lanqi to mask her own guilty conscience, but she lacked the confidence to see it through.
Still, there was nothing to worry about. Talia would forgive Lanqi in no time anyway, and as long as Lanqi played the victim as usual, Talia would be the one feeling guilty instead.
"Meow, meow."
Boss Cat still hid under a bench.
It worried far too much about Lanqi. Even though it had been terrified, it had stayed behind.
Sometimes, it was the only one who could save Lanqi; if it fled, Lanqi would be beyond salvation.
Fortunately, there seemed to be no immediate danger now, and the ducal household's explosion had finally blown over.
Faced with the three women's differing expressions, Lanqi didn't show any sign of fatigue this time.
"I sincerely apologize to all of you. Today, I was overconfident and made an operational error. I am deeply sorry for causing trouble for the ducal family."
Lanqi bowed slightly to them.
He admitted his mistake, stated the facts, and apologized to them with earnest gravity.
Boss Cat had expected Lanqi to pull another clever trick, yet he was simply apologizing.
"..."
"Forget it. You've worked hard—rest well," Talia relented, her heart aching for him.
Just thinking of Lanqi's desperate efforts to salvage the stage today and his conscientious dedication to handling every task, she simply couldn't bring herself to blame him.
"How could the ducal household blame you?" Hyperion smiled and said to Lanqi.
Her entire family had been saved by Lanqi putting his life on the line; this minor squabble would be forgotten the moment the sun rose tomorrow.
"Sigh, you two really are far too easy to win over. Wait, so am I? Ah, never mind then," Sigrid remarked from the side.
"Now that it's come to this, let's head back to the ducal manor to eat. Isn't there a victory banquet?" Sigrid stretched lazily, addressing Talia and Hyperion.
She was already feeling a bit hungry.
"Yes, time to eat." Talia patted her stomach. She truly was starving.
Acting was physically exhausting work.
It was only because fusing with Hyperion dulled hunger that she had nearly forgotten dinnertime was upon them.
"Let's head happily home!" Hyperion cheered, turning to leave.
"Wait," Lanqi called out to them.
All three turned around.
Did Lanqi have something else to say?
"Meow."
Boss Cat shrank back under the front-row seat.
It knew.
Lanqi had once said that once everything was over, he would give the three of them an explanation.
He had never shirked his responsibilities.
His attitude of coming clean about everything today was the way he intended to be with them from now on.
"Say whatever you want to say."
Taking in the atmosphere, all three grew involuntarily nervous.
Sigrid appeared the most composed, though her crossed arms rubbed faintly against her sleeve.
Talia deliberately averted her gaze; she didn't want to meet Lanqi's eyes right now.
Hyperion looked anxious, her fists clenched tightly, gazing worriedly at Lanqi.
In their hearts, they had vaguely guessed what Lanqi might say. In truth, they had waited a long time for it.
Yet seeing Lanqi looking like this, their hearts began to race.
After a brief silence in the opera hall, Lanqi looked at them and spoke.
"Lancrosse missed Miss Witch, missed Xigelei, and missed Cariella. But I don't want to miss Hyperion, Sigrid, and Talia."
As he spoke, his gaze didn't waver in the slightest.
"Are you saying you want to marry all three?" Sigrid looked at him with keen interest, laying it bare in one breath.
It was as if she found the Holy Son rather bold, daring to say such a thing right to her face.
Hyperion and Talia each shot Sigrid an astonished glance, seemingly taken aback that Sigrid would put it so bluntly.
Though they had grasped his meaning from Lanqi's opening words, having something meant to be tacitly understood laid out so directly made them feel intensely embarrassed.
At this moment, they didn't know how to react, or how to face Lanqi.
"Am I wrong?" Sigrid asked Lanqi, and then turned naturally to ask Talia and Hyperion.
"You're right," Lanqi admitted frankly.
Sigrid's overly direct words had cut short his speech.
Yet there was no need for him to elaborate, because what Sigrid had said was precisely the truth.
"..."
Sigrid withheld her verdict for the moment.
Talia and Hyperion fell into silence as well.
They didn't know how to agree to such a thing.
Though they had vaguely envisioned the future in their hearts, when the moment actually arrived, they felt constrained by something, hesitating and undecided.
"Then let me ask you: if you could only marry one, who would you choose?"
Sigrid posed the question she was most curious about.
She was also asking on behalf of Hyperion and Talia, voicing the dilemma that held them back.
It was perhaps the question they wanted to ask yet feared asking; they both yearned to know the answer and dreaded hearing it.
They found it difficult to pinpoint their feelings and crystallize them into such a precise inquiry, worrying that asking it aloud would put Lanqi in an impossible bind.
Sigrid, however, had never been one to mince words.
"Meow meow meow..."
Boss Cat broke into a cold sweat.
It was already sharpening its claws, preparing to sprint forward to buy Lanqi some time.
Though it knew Sigrid would eventually agree to Lanqi's proposal, she wasn't someone who gave in easily.
This question was her test.
It was the final exam set before Lanqi.
Answer poorly, and he might plunge straight into hell.
Yet how could one possibly answer such a lethal trap?
Pick one, and break the hearts of the other two. But having already declared he wanted all three, he couldn't simply pick one.
There was no correct answer at all, meow!
Suddenly, an orange speck of light flashed from Talia's pocket, drifting outward and coalescing into the silhouette of a flower fairy that landed lightly upon the floor.
"Then he won't marry any of you. Because he can't choose, he'd walk Lancrosse's path all over again, and none of you would get a happy ending," the Poet of Great Love answered on Lanqi's behalf.
Lanqi stared at the Poet of Great Love in astonishment.
He hadn't expected the Poet of Great Love to come to his rescue right now, answering the question posed by Sigrid, Talia, and Hyperion before he even spoke.
"..."
The Poet of Great Love looked toward Lanqi with a grin, signaling him to keep quiet and let her speak for him.
Whenever Lanqi was willing to admit his mistakes and take his lumps, she was always willing to patch things up with him.
No matter what, they had been bound partners and life-and-death companions for so long; their bond had never faded. Besides, the vast majority of her amusement came from Lanqi. At a critical juncture like this, only she could pull her buddy through.
Silence blanketed the opera hall once more.
Hiding under the seat, Boss Cat analyzed the situation.
Lanfu's answer was clearly one none of the three could accept, yet it was also one with which all three could feel satisfied to a certain degree.
Not choosing anyone meant none of them were expendable to Lanqi, without favoritism or singling out a sole beloved.
The look in Lanqi's eyes just now confirmed that what Lanfu said was indeed the choice he would have made; Lanfu had merely stepped in ahead of him to say it.
And coming from Lanfu rather than Lanqi's own lips, the words lost their sting.
Hyperion, Talia, and Sigrid were lost in contemplation.
Considering the worst-case scenario, they believed Lanqi truly would follow through, and then everyone would live with lifelong regrets.
Even so, hesitation lingered in their hearts.
They didn't know how to give Lanqi their answer at this moment.
"Haha," the Poet of Great Love chuckled softly.
"As for my suggestion: if you three refuse, I'll advise Lanqi to go to the Creti Empire and declare his willingness to succeed the throne as Emperor."
The Poet of Great Love paced before them, opening her arms as if enticing Lanqi.
"Loren would pack his bags and flee in a heartbeat. The War Gods, the Silver Moon Restoration Society, and the Princess would have no choice but to let Lanqi do what he's tailor-made for. President Lan, Lord Lan, was always far better suited to being Emperor than Loren ever was."
She continued:
"Once our little Lan unifies the Southern Continent and rebuilds the Holy Polant Theocracy, what does marrying three matter? By then, even if he wants to marry Iphatia, or take Minel as well, who would dare say a word—mph, mph, mph..."
Before the Poet of Great Love could finish, Talia clamped a hand over her mouth from behind.
"You're being utterly inhumane, Lanfu!"
Talia refused to let the Poet of Great Love blabber any further. She put her in a headlock, forcing her back into her original form, and crossly tucked the translucent orange magic card away.
Yet once Lanfu vanished, all three were left thoroughly shaken.
Pondering the Poet of Great Love's words, they became convinced that marrying into the Wilfort family as soon as possible was the only way to find peace of mind.
This lad was finally preparing to live a peaceful life; if they didn't lock him down with marriage, he might actually go off to conquer the stars and the seas.
A few breaths passed.
"Whatever. Marrying one husband and getting two wives as a bonus isn't a bad deal," Sigrid said, spreading her hands first.
How could one hide love? How could a beating heart turn cold?
The boy she loved stood right before her eyes. This time, she refused to miss him ever again.
"What are you talking about, Sigrid?!" Hyperion turned to Sigrid in flustered indignation, demanding an explanation.
Yet when she glanced toward Lanqi, her gaze softened nonetheless.
"Still, are we really talking about marriage this early...?" Hyperion murmured, her cheeks blushing slightly.
She and Lanqi were still young; by ordinary standards, waiting a few years to marry would be perfectly fine.
Considering Sigrid and Talia's ages, however, they really did need to hurry.
"Hypie, are you running a quest against me?" Talia looked at Hyperion in disbelief.
For the first time, she felt Hyperion was thinking something impolite. Hypie had gone bad!
"I suspect she's running quests against two people," Lanqi raised his hand to correct with scholarly precision.
Where there was a Tata, there was no escaping a Sig.
"You really deserve to die," Sigrid stepped forward immediately and pinched Lanqi's cheek, ordering him, "Then hurry up and solve my problem!"
Watching Sigrid and Lanqi roughhouse while Hyperion tried to mediate—a scene indistinguishable from their everyday antics—Talia shook her head with a sense of relief.
The Poet of Great Love had threatened to tear the roof off right from the start; having restrained her, opening a window for Lanqi suddenly felt like nothing at all.
"If you can bring me happiness, prove it to me," Talia said, handing the translucent card back to Lanqi.
That debt of over eighty thousand pounds—she'd let it dissolve.
She wouldn't say it aloud.
Holding the [Poet of Great Love] had felt like holding collateral on a loan; returning it to Lanqi symbolized the settling of accounts, and she hoped he would grasp her meaning.
"Thank you, Lanfu," Lanqi looked down at the magic card in his hands.
This was his earliest masterpiece and his most steadfast partner.
Though Teacher Big Fu's ideas were thoroughly unhinged, her matchmaking was undeniably effective. Lanqi conceded that when it came to playing Cupid, he fell short of Lanfu.
"Congratulations, Lanqi. You've finally realized your dream of clinging to a Duke's coattails," Hyperion said, stepping up beside him.
"No, Hyperion, that really was a misunderstanding," Lanqi waved his hands hurriedly, about to explain the rumor with Minel all over again.
Then he saw Hyperion laugh.
She was clearly teasing him.
That sly expression seemed touched with a hint of Defilement Lord's mischief.
"I mean you're clinging to the coattails of Duchess Hyperion. I'll become Duke sooner or later, won't I? I'll provide for you from now on; I'll inherit the family estate properly," Hyperion patted Lanqi's shoulder, encouraging him to work hard in the days to come.
At last, she projected the aura of a wealthy patroness.
In the performance hall, melody rose once more. Breezy, dashing, grand, intense, and whimsical, the music resonated through the opera house.
"How wonderful. But it seems the story must finally draw to a close here."
Toryardo had returned to the piano at some point. His fingers touched the black and white keys, and under Abigail's watchful eye, he offered the closing piece for this drama.
"I'll let you slack off just this once," Abigail murmured, looking at their friends below the stage, tacitly granting permission for his performance.
Light beams shifted across the auditorium, colorful as a resplendent sea of flowers, brimming like a dream in the heart—a tender land that would never fall.
"By the way, Hypie, let me ask you something," Lanqi whispered to Hyperion.
"What?" Hyperion tilted her head toward him.
"If I solved the marriage crisis of two older women in one go, wouldn't that count as boundless merit?" Lanqi asked, consulting her earnestly in her capacity as a cleric.
"Heh heh..."
Hyperion was tickled pink by Lanqi, her shoulders trembling as she covered her mouth.
Whether it counted as merit she couldn't say, but she knew that with this laugh, whatever karma she had was gone.
Not just Hyperion.
Even Talia and Sigrid were provoked into laughter by this shameless fellow.
"Tata, if you want to thrash him, I won't stop you this time," Sigrid said, folding her arms and shaking her head.
"Lanqi, prepare to be captured seven times!"
Talia showed no mercy this time, clenching her fist and charging after Lanqi.
"Help! The tigress is eating people!"
Lanqi bolted up the steps for dear life.
Across the stage of the opera hall, brisk notes chased their fleeing silhouettes toward the theater's brightest exit bathed in twilight. Gentle yet resolute, joyful yet elegant, the scene brought a faint curl to the lips of even the goddess statue.
The journey walked so far had painted new landscapes without design; whether the regrets of the Blood Moon Ruined World or the lingering loneliness of past nightmares, all dissipated like foam on water.
The piano notes resonated through the theater, like a spring breeze brushing past, coaxing blossoms to open one by one.
The stage dimmed, and the velvet curtain slowly closed once more, bringing this story on the stage to a consummate close.
***
Grand Finale: Lanqi's Brand-New Days
Here hung a photograph.
On the photo wall of Boss Cat Restaurant, frames were mounted in abundance.
Among them were numerous snapshots of daily life, group photos of Boss Cat with luminaries from home and abroad, and the familiar faces of regular patrons, mostly capturing cherished, memorable moments.
For instance, one showed the curtain call taken yesterday after the second day's performance of the Half-Demon chapter in *Holy War Romance*.
The troupe members bowed on stage, while the main performance hall of the Ikerite Opera House reached an unprecedented pitch of excitement. Spectators clapped with tears in their eyes, thoroughly moved.
Displayed in Boss Cat Restaurant, these photos resembled protective talismans.
Prayers for health, blessings for love, hopes of passing examinations.
Everyone in the photos held a different wish.
"—This is Antanas Radio."
"Hey, darlings, your host today is still me, Antanas."
"This might be the final episode of Antanas Radio."
"In the days to come, will you find yourself missing it once again?"
On a chilly February morning, the roadside timber-framed restaurant prepared for opening.
The broadcast drifted faintly through the casements.
Daylight was nearly full, the starlight fading as azure dawn descended upon the streets of Ikerite, the royal capital of Hutton. In this sleep-hazed morning, a world soon to be steeped in indigo greeted the day.
Inside Boss Cat Restaurant, Pranay stood before the counter, prepared for Monday's duties.
On both the first and second floors, Antanas's voice could be heard with crystal clarity.
"Good morning, Pranay, Sinnola, Boss Cat."
Accompanied by the crisp, lingering chime of the door, a pair of hands pushed open the heavy wooden door.
"Good morning," Pranay looked up to greet Lanqi, who had arrived bright and early.
Stopping by Boss Cat Restaurant to buy breakfast the moment it opened had become Lanqi's regular routine.
"Good morning!" Sinnola chimed in from behind the counter.
"Why did Antanas say today's episode is the last one? Is she starting her official new program at the Hutton Times Broadcasting Company tomorrow?" Lanqi paused, listening to Antanas's radio voice, and asked Sinnola.
"That's right. The Hutton Times Broadcasting Company's preparations over the recent period are all set. Tomorrow, Antanas becomes an official host," Sinnola replied with gratification.
She was genuinely happy for her friend. Even so, Antanas would still live at Boss Cat Restaurant; they would see each other every morning before work and every evening after, and weekends would remain unchanged, allowing them to hang out with Hypie as always.
The three chatted in Boss Cat Restaurant during its opening hour.
Customers were still sparse.
The interior decor hadn't changed in a long time, remaining simple and tasteful. Wooden tables, chairs, and flooring gave off a faint scent of pine; handicrafts and old books rested in corners; and the sofa Boss Cat had brought back earlier sat out on the second-floor terrace.
Though the sofa had somehow been tagged as "food" as a reminder, it had yet to be cooked.
"Has this week's *Ikerite Academy Journal* arrived?"
Lanqi caught sight of a corner of the low bookshelf.
The red-bound volume was none other than their Ikerite Academy journal.
Since Senior Asna, former vice president of the Ikerite Academy student council, had become Boss Cat's apprentice and head chef here, she often brought her subscribed journals to the restaurant and set them casually on the shelf.
To some degree, Senior Asna graduating from the School of Sages and shifting from being Loren's student to Meowren's student was quite the stroke of fate.
"Mm, Asna brought it in this morning."
Noticing the new magazine, Pranay walked over, picked it up, and spread it open on the counter so all three could see.
He hadn't had time to read the latest issue either.
Lanqi, Sinnola, and Pranay gathered around the table, casually browsing through this red-covered book of Ikerite Academy.
The sections covered major campus events and policy shifts, academic research breakthroughs and findings, faculty appointments and key lectures, as well as news on student activities and club movements.
There were commentary columns featuring student and teacher discussions on campus issues, hot social topics, and reader mailbags.
There were cultural and art sections covering campus exhibitions, concert and drama reviews, and literary recommendations, as well as multimedia sections featuring campus photography, news clips, and podcasts.
Lanqi already knew most of the news in the opening sections, as he had been working at Ikerite Academy on Professor Borao's behalf lately.
Sinnola and Pranay weren't particularly interested in that content either, so they flipped through quickly.
Only when they reached the opinion and multimedia sections toward the back did their interest perk up.
One page featured the [Ikerite Academy Survey].
The latest survey posed a question.
Kukurka, a new officer on the Student Management Committee and a reporter for the Hutton Times, had conducted an inquiry across campus.
"Who is the greatest matchmaker?"
Kukurka had posed this question to students found beneath the old humanities building.
"Eh? Lanqi," answered a grey-haired, purple-eyed young man in sunglasses.
In the photograph, he seemed to be merely passing by, moving so quickly the shutter couldn't even capture him clearly.
"It depends on the circumstances, but probably Lanqi. That's just my personal opinion," President Monast answered with a light chuckle in the student council room, fingers interlaced under his chin.
"Isn't it Student Lanqi? Though if you factor in the Poet of Great Love, that changes things," Teacher Teresa pondered, turning back when stopped for an interview right after class at the School of Sages.
The final photograph showed a young man with black hair and green eyes.
Apparently sipping from a can of juice, he had been asked the same question.
"Someone other than me and Askson, I suppose," he had answered.
Sinnola pointed puzzledly at the final picture.
"Isn't this you, Lanqi?"
Sinnola had developed some resistance to Lanqi by now, having no trouble looking him in the eye at close range.
Just as her brother Pranay had been handsome since childhood, being around him for so long meant she never viewed him as the opposite sex.
"I concede. When it comes to matchmaking, I'm still leagues behind," Lanqi spread his hands and shook his head.
"So how did things turn out with Loren?"
Pranay had gone to bed very early that day, so he hadn't known what unfolded afterward in the theater.
He only knew that Sunday's performance the next day had been a soaring success.
Beyond the opera itself, the promotional music video had been hailed as a work of art.
Sinnola stared curiously at Lanqi as well.
She had heard the recap of what took place on Valentine's Day.
Yet the one who possessed the most detailed knowledge was undeniably Lanqi, and she wanted to hear it again.
"Loren's romantic journey remains unpredictable," Lanqi said with a helpless laugh, looking more at peace than defeated.
He would never meddle in someone else's life decisions again unless they truly needed his aid.
One careless slip, and he might take things a bit too far.
Like turning the Fighter's Soul team into a team of fighters.
"Besides, how could an Emperor be manipulated by others? That would make me look like a treacherous prime minister, wouldn't it?" Lanqi stated to Pranay and Sinnola.
After departing the theater on Saturday evening, Loren's dates had safely made a soft landing.
The great retreat from the Ikerite Opera House had undeniably been the most perilous hurdle.
Having survived that, Loren had little trouble escorting the three ladies home even without Lanqi's help.
The bro route, the colleague route, the dining buddy route—any of them was possible.
Lanqi didn't intend to interfere any further; he would let Loren develop things naturally.
"Is that so?" Pranay flipped through the red book thoughtfully.
A laid-back Lanqi was nice too; at least, in his eyes, it brought far greater peace of mind.
When they had just escaped Helrom Prison, he had hoped Rocky McCarthy would show greater ambition and lead them to glory anew.
Now, his mindset had completely transformed.
"Truth be told, there are things I simply couldn't control. It was only because my friends helped me and tolerated me that I managed to stumble my way to where I am today," Lanqi remarked, as if discerning Pranay's thoughts.
Looking back, he realized that he had sometimes been too clever for his own good, harboring delusions and clinging to obsessions, imagining he was helping others when the process invariably brought its share of trouble.
"Then again, with the performance being such a hit, demons have inadvertently become even more popular. Insiders predict that many people will want to learn about demon culture—it might just be a brand-new blue ocean... Ever since the decisive battle in Brillda, interest in and tourism to the Posen Demon Realm have been steadily climbing. The restoration process will likely accelerate even further."
Lanqi continued sharing post-performance developments with Pranay and Sinnola.
These were details he had heard from Aetio and Rosalinda.
People had discovered that not all demons were as bloodthirsty and ferocious as the warmongers of the Holy War era. A small number were gentle and brimming with personality, their desires harmless in nature, uninterested in slaughter and plunder.
Some demons were even quite comical.
"I see," Sinnola listened with an impassive expression, as if deaf to the core of Lanqi's words.
"What about you, Pranay?" Lanqi suddenly asked.
"What about me?"
Pranay reacted just like Sinnola, showing little emotion toward Lanqi's talk of demon restoration.
"Aetio told me that if any Great Demon from our side is willing to go over, they'd be granted at least the rank of Grand Duke, along with ample status to revive their illustrious lineage..."
Lanqi had never forgotten that when he first freed Sinnola and Pranay, both had dreamed of restoring their nation.
"When I first saved you, I told you that we're friends. You can leave whenever you wish. You are free," Lanqi added.
Now that the siblings' wish could be fulfilled, he was unlikely to face formidable enemies on the level of absolute powerhouses who required their combat assistance.
"There's no need," Pranay simply smiled and quietly closed his eyes.
His current life was wonderful.
There was no need to cling to even half a shadow of old dreams.
"Why would I ever leave? I get to hang out with Hypie every day, and working at Boss Cat Restaurant is so relaxing," Sinnola said with even greater conviction.
Since leaving prison, her daily life had become saying 'I'm back' to the morning sun and 'welcome home' to the sunset.
Time was finally ticking in sync once more.
She had at last attained true freedom.
"I see."
It seemed Lanqi would just have to decline Aetio's invitation on behalf of Pranay and Sinnola.
The world was ever unpredictable.
The answer had always resided in their hearts. He trusted that the siblings' judgment was sound, and they were never the type to harbor regrets.
"By the way, when do you plan to... with Tata, Hypie, and Side?" Sinnola asked out of the blue.
Lanqi had been discussing their affairs, but they were far more curious about his own.
"Soon. They can't afford to wait," Lanqi answered with a smile.
He knew Antanas had pried the truth of Saturday evening's events at the opera house out of Boss Cat.
Since Antanas knew, it meant everyone essentially knew, so he didn't bother hiding it.
Lanqi failed to notice, however, that Pranay wasn't smiling at all this time.
Pranay put away the Ikerite Academy red book and moved to tidy the newspaper rack.
Sinnola cleared her throat twice.
"Sinnola?"
Lanqi looked up at Sinnola, whose throat seemed to have caught.
Before he could ask, a sudden chill crept down his spine.
He turned his head. There at the foot of the stairs, a pair of golden eyes belonging to an absolute superior were staring right at him.
Tata had woken up and come downstairs.
Draped behind her was a half-asleep Sigrid.
Sigrid seemed torn between getting up for breakfast and sleeping a bit longer, so she had latched onto Tata, catching a nap while taking a couple of gentle sniffs.
"Lanqi."
Talia clenched her fist.
She was certain Lanqi had stopped pretending altogether.
Previously, this fellow had at least kept his impudent thoughts to himself.
Now he dared say them aloud right to her face.
That smug expression of his was truly asking for it!
"Tata, good morning!" Lanqi hurriedly called out to greet her. "And Side." He looked toward Sigrid behind Talia and added the same greeting.
"Good morning," Talia's voice was devoid of inflection, matching her customary expressionless face.
Yet with a lifetime beside Lanqi ahead of her, she didn't intend to torment him, and a hint of wifely tenderness colored her tone.
"Good morning..." Sigrid's voice drew out long and drowsy as she gave Lanqi a sleepy wave.
Walking to the first floor, Talia retrieved a box of biscuit-shaped pet food from the cabinet and filled up the breakfast dish for the black fox in Boss Cat Restaurant.
For a time, the restaurant fell quiet once more, the radio broadcast filling the room.
"Late February draws near; spring has arrived. Some stories must come to an end, yet—"
Antanas's gentle, intellectual voice was as soft as an evening breeze, paired with carefully curated healing melodies. The tunes flowed slowly, weaving with Antanas's words to bestow an added layer of serenity upon this morning.
"In a season of fickle winds and waves, amidst the bustling crowd, as long as you are there, all is sweet."
Moments passed.
Lanqi resumed chatting with Sinnola and Pranay, who had returned after stowing the Ikerite Academy red book.
Outside the window, students bundled in thick coats hurried by clutching steaming cups of coffee or tea, their breath billowing in tiny puffs of white mist against the cold air.
"Little Hypie has arrived!"
With a faint smile on her face, Hyperion pushed open the restaurant door and stepped inside.
Around her neck hung a magical camera handed to her by Senior Luvishir, who had told her to select her favorite production stills from the Half-Demon chapter of *Holy War Romance* as keepsakes.
Departing from the ducal manor this morning, she had come straight to Boss Cat Restaurant, eager to pick out photographs with her friends to have them printed.
"Hypie, you're here!" Sinnola beamed at her, stepping out from behind the counter.
"Sinnola, I missed you so much," Hyperion said affectionately, taking her hands.
"Didn't we just see each other yesterday?" Sinnola asked, swaying their linked hands.
"You and Antanas should move into the ducal manor soon! There are two rooms set aside just for you. Stepping out of my room and not seeing you every day feels so strange," Hyperion proposed to Sinnola.
Though staying at the manor might mean a longer commute to Boss Cat Restaurant compared to living directly upstairs, spending weekends at the ducal manor would be wonderful.
"Why does it feel like the ultimate destiny of all us demons is freeloading...?" Sinnola reflected thoughtfully.
Not only had the two princesses led by example, but they, the Great Demons, had ended up living much the same way.
"A demon's talents and traits are more or less tied to their disposition. That is precisely why the ancient Great Demons surviving today are non-offensive civil officials," Pranay noted from the side. Strictly speaking, it wasn't their fault.
The gentler a demon, the more likely they were to manifest supportive talents; one could only say that karma governed all in mysterious ways.
Purely offensive demons—such as the Defilement Lord Melogas—were undeniably mighty, yet their personalities made it nearly impossible to truly coexist within human society.
"Perhaps Melogas could have coexisted with humans too, if only there were someone who understood her," Hyperion remarked, thinking of the Defilement Lord upon hearing Pranay discuss the differences between demonic officials and generals.
Thinking back, she had initially been terrified of the Defilement Lord, fiercely resisting even inheriting her power.
It was only after truly confronting her demonic lineage and mastering the Defilement Demon King's power that she began to understand her own prejudices against demons. When it came to confronting one's own heart as a demon, she fell far short of Melogas, and even had much to learn from her.
"Finding someone like that is simply too rare," Sinnola shook her head.
She held equal reverence for super-ancient demons with Demon King potential like the Defilement Lord, and knew how difficult befriending Melogas would be.
First, one had to beat her into submission.
Second, one had to communicate with her on equal footing.
Only then might she open her heart and view the other as her one and only true friend.
"Or rather, even if you did meet such a person, failing to win them over in the end would truly be a lifelong regret," Pranay chimed in.
In that Shadow World from tens of thousands of years ago, he had been on fairly good terms with the Defilement Lord's faction throughout, such as the Lord of Skeletons and the Lord of Quicksilver. Though he had been playing both sides, genuine camaraderie had grown along the way, to say nothing of fighting side-by-side against the vampires in the end.
"Sigh, demon generals possess immense backbone. A demon general dies; they never surrender. I still remember how unyielding Melogas remained even in defeat; she never seemed to fear death," Lanqi recalled. Among all the foes he had faced in his career, the only one who showed zero psychological fluctuation upon defeat was Melogas.
Oh, and Mann too.
Though Mann had been blasted to cinders by Tata's ultimate spell, unable to speak another word.
"Since you managed to become friends with the Lord of Thunder and the Lord of Mist, that proves demon generals aren't impossible to reason with. It's merely a matter of difficulty," Talia said, standing up after filling the fox's bowl.
Just then, the restaurant door was pushed open once more.
"Monday, Monday, f*** you, Monday," Toryardo grumbled under his breath, venting his workplace grievances.
"..."
The conversation between Lanqi, Sinnola, and Pranay ground to a halt.
Toryardo certainly didn't fear death either.
Yet he was nothing like the other generals.
"Oh hey, good morning, everyone!"
The moment Toryardo saw his friends, he immediately beamed, offered a quick wave, and darted straight for the kitchen.
Since the troupe was still in Ikerite, one of the tasks assigned to him was procuring the crew's daily meals.
He had come early to collect the breakfast pre-ordered from Boss Cat Restaurant.
"This is the first time I've ever seen a Cardinal work like a beast of burden," Hyperion whispered in bemusement.
"At least Toryardo is so genuine with his priests in the Dimensional Branch. There's no fear of him becoming a general without an army," Lanqi told Hyperion.
"I don't think generals without armies happen under normal circumstances anyway—unless they cross paths with a thoroughly wicked Cardinal who sows discord and turns every subordinate against them," Talia remarked, coming over and casting a pointed look at Lanqi.
Her attention remained chiefly on Hyperion. She brushed a stray strand of hair from Hyperion's brow and smiled in relief.
Hyperion's sleep had always been poor in the past, plagued by frequent nightmares.
Looking at her glowing complexion now, she was clearly resting well every night and no longer struggling to rise in the morning.
"Don't worry, Tata, I sleep wonderfully every night. I'm so happy every single day now," Hyperion said with a radiant smile, welcoming Tata's habitual tenderness.
Her parents were back.
Her friends surrounded her.
Just like what she had witnessed in the falling tender land.
And all of this was thanks to Lanqi beside her. From the day she had agreed in that classroom to embark on a journey with him, her dreams had become reality, step by step.
"Thank you, Lanqi," Hyperion smiled warmly at him, dimples appearing at the corners of her lips.
"Why thank me all of a sudden?" Lanqi asked with amusement.
"Isn't it completely natural to express gratitude to one's hardworking husband?" Hyperion leaned close and whispered into his ear.
"Hypie, you..."
Lanqi hadn't expected Hyperion to suddenly come out with that.
She too had learned how to launch sneak attacks.
"Alright, it's getting late," Hyperion giggled, glancing at the clock to remind him.
Lanqi needed to head out early; teachers often had to arrive before their students.
Professor Borao, Dean of the School of Magic Engineering, had by now entrusted all the duties belonging to the Dean of the School of Sages to Lanqi.
He didn't teach classes; he merely handled administrative governance.
With Lanqi taking the reins, Professor Borao no longer fretted over administrative burdens, and the School of Sages ran even more smoothly than when Loren had been in charge.
"Ah, you're right."
Lanqi glanced up at the clock on the wall of Boss Cat Restaurant, realizing he had lost track of time chatting so happily with his friends.
"I'll be off then," Lanqi slung his briefcase over his shoulder, turning around with a wide, bright grin.
"..."
A touch of astonishment colored everyone's faces.
Hyperion instinctively raised her camera, centering the lens on him.
Even Boss Cat, who had just strutted out from the kitchen with dainty steps, skidded to a halt, blinking as it stared at Lanqi.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lanqi touched his cheek.
"You've changed, Lanqi, meow," the little black cat said in its brisk, youthful voice.
Those inside Boss Cat Restaurant had never seen Lanqi laugh with such carefree abandon.
In the past, Lanqi had always been dignified, like an unapproachable old headmaster; even his smiles had been faint, measured, and calculated.
"Have I?"
Lanqi smiled again.
The exact same smile as before.
"Yes!"
"You've become like a real youth!"
Laughter rang continuously through Boss Cat Restaurant, sending Lanqi on his way.
They loved this Lanqi dearly.
The shutter clicked.
The scene froze in that instant, captured in a photograph pinned upon the photo wall of Boss Cat Restaurant.
And there it remained, for a long, long time to come.
Beneath the photograph, written in elegant strokes left by an unknown hand passing by, the inscription read:
[As the morning sun waxes bright, divinity fades away; seeking the heart through love, reclaiming human status once more.]
Chapter 884