Feeling the fiery and stinging sensation on his cheek, Ziyuan finally realized that his face was injured.
On the Sipistole continent, firearms and similar weapons were only used during times of war. The production cost was high, with the cost of a single bullet reaching the monthly food expenses of a commoner. Not only were they difficult to use, but the technology for maintenance and repair was also not well-developed. Therefore, usually only a small number of bounty hunters or nobles could afford to possess them. However, for a prince from the most prosperous country on the continent, guns and bullets were by no means a significant expense.
Polon slowly lowered his raised gun. “If that’s the case, in order to temporarily protect the citizens of my country, I will offer the bullets blessed by the goddess Elena to the Demon King. This way, in a situation where you can’t move, you can accept the proposal I just made.” In essence, this was a bluff and an empty threat from Polon. In the past, such threats would have provoked a furious response from Ziyuan, but currently, there was no sign of him exploding in anger.
At the moment when Polon raised the gun, Ziyuan could have dodged it, but he saw the regal aura of a ruler in Polon’s face.
Although it was undeniable that Polon’s words were not only childish but also lacked a sense of killing intent, this prince possessed a regal demeanor known as “superiority.” Ziyuan could see that he wasn’t suitable to be a hero because his destiny was to become a king.
Until now, aside from the Demon King, Polon was probably the second person Ziyuan had encountered who could captivate his attention. Specializing in an invincible and dominating aura, Thrett displayed the air of a ruler over all, while Polon showcased the benevolent righteousness of an upper-class individual toward his people, dedicating himself to sacrifice and protection. This was how Ziyuan judged them.
“Well then, that’s it. Good night, beautiful Demon King.” Polon approached Ziyuan, lifting a strand of purple-red hair and bringing it to his mouth, forming a gesture resembling a light kiss and brushing against Ziyuan’s cheek.
“You’re insane!” was Ziyuan’s immediate response as he swung his hand blade, but Polon responded with a bitter smile, “I did say so just now, indeed, I am.” While letting him swing and miss, Polon left in a hurry, leaving Ziyuan wishing he could just cut off that tuft of hair.
Suddenly, he regretted it. Rather than enduring the troubles of dealing with this neurotic brat here, he would prefer going back to being bitten by Laos and Les, used as a target by Queen Lily, or even cleaning bird droppings.
Feeling the pain on his cheek ease considerably, which was undoubtedly healed by Polon’s secret magic, Ziyuan couldn’t help but mutter, “Did he really understand the situation?”
Encountering the contradictory mindset of a hero who not only refrained from killing the Demon King but also helped in treating him, Ziyuan experienced it for the first time.
—
Ellyad stood on the balcony of the room, and the petite elf sat on the marble-carved railing. Moonlight adorned her platinum long hair, merging with it, creating a dreamlike scene.
“Prince Polon’s wings are real, aren’t they?” Ell leaned on the railing and asked softly.
“Yes, they are the ‘Wings of the Hero,’ without a doubt,” Lena answered, bowing her head, as if reluctant to state the truth, giving a vague response.
After receiving the affirmative answer, Ell let out a helpless and long sigh, his brows furrowing even tighter.
“Does it still hurt?” Lena gently patted Ell’s back, and after a silent pause, Ell shook his head slightly.
Afterward, it seemed that Ellyad didn’t want to touch on this topic again. Both of them, burdened by their own thoughts, fell silent. The awkward atmosphere tightly gripped their contemplation.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Are you frowning again?” A familiar magnetic voice sounded, surprising Ell as he instantly lifted his head. Looking up, he saw Thrett squatting on the nearby railing, welcoming him with a wry smile.
“When did you arrive?”
“Just now. Ah, don’t run away. I came to talk to you.”-
Thrett suddenly appeared in front of the troubled Ell, wearing a face of apologetic wry smile.
“Are you still angry?”
“No.”
Ell felt the previously heavy atmosphere dissipate, and his lungs took in a breath of fresh air, even his furrowed brows eased.
Just because Thrett showed up?
He shook his head, casting away any thoughts. Right now, all he wanted to do was talk to Thrett; somehow, the mere act of doing so seemed to lighten his mood.
“That’s good, um…” Although what happened in the afternoon couldn’t be called a fight, things didn’t seem completely resolved either. Ell remained expressionless and unresponsive. Thrett suddenly found himself at a loss for words.
“Today, did you eat anything you liked?” It was rare for Ell to initiate a conversation, and while Thrett was happy about it, he struggled when it came to the topic of food.
“I only know that the spicy grilled dishes with herbs make me want to extinguish them.” The Demon King turned his head with a dark, mocking laugh.
“You’re really picky.” With that, Ell turned and went into the room, returning to the balcony with a golden tray in hand.
On the plate were several triangular-shaped fruit pies, including creamy apple pie, rum and raspberry pie, chocolate and strawberry pie, and orange tropical fruit pie, among others. The vibrant colors stacked up to fill the entire tray.
“These were just delivered as a late-night snack.”
It was another pile of sweet and rich flavors. While Thrett was happy that Ell took the initiative to start a conversation, he wasn’t hoping for an additional meal. Demons needed to eat and enjoyed human inventions in cuisine, but individuals like Thrett, who were exceptionally picky and reluctant to eat, were a minority.
Ellyad took the first bite of the apple pie, eating it calmly. Thrett always found it hard to understand how Ell could swallow such a variety of random foods.
“Do you want some?” Ell noticed Thrett staring at him, thinking he might want some, so he handed the pie, with only one bite left, to Thrett.
Thrett leaned over and took the last bite without thinking. Although he had eaten earlier in the afternoon, for some reason, this time, the taste was surprisingly good. The slightly sweet and fragrant flavor spread on his lips, and he couldn’t help but want to savor another bite.
Ell had never directly fed someone with his hands, and he didn’t intend to. He didn’t expect Thrett to eat something he handed over like this. Fortunately, Thrett finished it in one bite, and Ell quickly withdrew his hand.
“Wait.” Thrett suddenly grabbed Ellyad’s hand, who was about to pull it back. Ell was startled, looking at Teret with a puzzled expression.
Thrett pulled Ell’s fingers, which were in his grasp, towards his own lips. He licked the jam off the fingertips and lingered on the side of the finger, gently pecking.
“Indeed… it tastes so good. Why does it seem tastier when it’s handed by Ell?” The aroma on his fingertips was enchanting to Thrett, just like the taste of the pie Ell offered.
“Ah!” Ell exclaimed and forcefully pulled his hand back, suddenly feeling his cheeks burning. Thrett sat calmly on the balcony railing, showing a satisfied smile to Ell, saying, “It’s delicious.”
Just as the words were spoken, “Shoo—clang!” a giant red shadow, emanating a strong murderous intent, descended fiercely from the sky, firmly inserting itself in front of Thrett’s face. Several strands of his bangs were ruthlessly cut off.
“Whoa!” Thrett narrowly dodged backward.
“You freak, what are you up to in the middle of the National Day night?” This menacing threat, delivered in a deep and low tone, unexpectedly sent a shiver down Thrett’s spine.
A platinum-haired female ghost—or rather, a platinum-haired elven maiden—hovered ethereally in front of Thrett’s retinas, softly repeating, “Super pervert, what are you up to in the middle of the National Day night? Why not just die early, go to hell, disappear, be chopped into pieces, be quartered, be roasted alive, be skinned, be dismembered into ten thousand pieces, be drawn and quartered, be beheaded, be mutilated—basically, hurry up and go to hell…”
“Hey, wait, I think you’re getting too close! Your hair, your hair is tangling up! Hey, hey, Pink Love God, ahhh!” Thrett, feeling like he often ended up in similar situations, resisted the strange white hair of the elven maiden and howled.
“Stop calling me Pink Love God! What is that anyway? There’s no such strange deity in Sipistole!”
Seeing Thrett in such a miserable state for the first time, and Lena being so emotional, Ell couldn’t help but burst into laughter. The tense atmosphere from earlier completely dissipated.
—
In the palace, the royal family members held celebratory banquets day and night, and people at all levels in the palace were busy and bustling for the National Celebration Week.
Entering the banquet, apart from the servants who greeted him, all the other nobles avoided him as if afraid to get close.
“Prince Kyuubi, have you been well recently?” Greeting the royal brother closest to his age, but that person turned away as if not noticing Polon, and the surrounding nobles followed suit, moving to other places to continue their conversations.
Polon smiled to himself and murmured, “Nothing has happened, being safe and sound is, of course, the best.”
Continuing, he approached several elegantly dressed princesses and greeted them, “Princesses, you all look stunning tonight.” As he spoke, the princesses averted their gazes, awkwardly dispersing and leaving Prince Polom alone in his original spot.
“But it’s also because the princesses naturally possess the beauty bestowed upon them by the goddess Elena. Truly, my sisters are admirable,” Prince Polon continued, still smiling as he bid farewell to them.
Finally, he walked towards the royal box at the banquet, where the king and queen were engaged in conversation with guests. As he approached, the guests dispersed, and the king and queen ceased their discussion, turning their gaze towards the dancers on the dance floor. The guards and servants on both sides lowered their heads, keeping their mouths shut.
“Father, Mother, your child Polon comes to pay his respects and express gratitude for the wonderful banquet bestowed upon us by the goddess Elena.” Polon bowed respectfully, but received no response.
After a few seconds of complete silence, Polon raised his head and smiled, saying, “I believe everyone had a joyful evening. I, your child, once again thank the grace of the goddess Elena. However, as it is getting late and in preparation for the heroic performance during the National Celebration a few days from now, I shall take my leave to sharpen my skills.”
During the National Celebration week in the Emerald Kingdom, there was a grand performance depicting the miracles performed by past heroes in their quest to defeat the Demon Lord. In the past, these performances typically involved someone from the royal family playing the role of the hero, with contracted demons assisting in the magical aspects. However, due to the recent emergence of a true hero in the Emerald Kingdom, the people insisted that this year’s celebration feature the actual hero.
Still receiving no response, Polon retreated with a nonchalant smile. As he exited the banquet hall, people began to whisper to each other, saying, “What is he here for?”
“Doesn’t he realize he’s a curse?”
“Inheriting the incomplete power of a hero, it’s as if he’s been spurned by the goddess Elena herself.”
“He hasn’t received the goddess’s blessing; without enough divine power, how can he defeat the Demon King and protect humanity?”
“If we don’t have a complete hero, we’ll have to continue living under the threat of the Demon King. He must be a curse.”
“We should make him disappear and return the divine power to a true hero!”
“But the people are still unaware of this ominous tragedy.”
“Yeah, they all worship that cursed child as the real hero, some even want to nominate him as the next king.”
Even though his attitude was arrogant, I felt sorry for him. I wish people who did nothing and only criticized others would disappear
Thank you for the chapter (´∀｀)
What an interesting character.
This novel has no comedic undertone whatsoever lol,, i can speculate that being arrogant is polon’s coping mechanism
Typical nobles, such a*wholes.