Chapter 84: A Mysterious Midnight Encounter

‘It’s… an eye infection, right? Don’t touch it with that hand! Please…’

Lara Schmord struggled desperately. Judging by his bloodshot eyes, it wasn’t an ordinary eye infection. Touching it would sure infect you with a new, aggressive conjunctivitis. Convinced of this, Lara shut his eyes tightly.

Umm, umm-umm, um, umm-uh, umm-umm-umm… umm-umm, um, umm?

‘Did I do something wrong…? Why on earth are you acting like this?’

Tears welled up from Lara’s eyes as he did his best to shield them from the germs.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Lara. But only if you do as I say.”

Umm, umm-umm, um, umm-uh, umm-umm-umm.

‘Seriously, how do you understand any of this?’

Mikhail didn’t reply. He retracted his hand on his own, clearly not planning to force contact. Instead, a mysterious drowsiness washed over him.

On this chilly day, a soft, warm bed was the only legal indulgence granted by the state. How many had lain there thinking, ‘Just a little more rest,’ only to face the morning like this? Lara was no different. Even as his eyelids drooped, a faint face drifted into his mind.

‘Rahi… I wonder if he’s found the Dakimakura by now.’

The thought of him mobilizing every soldier to search for the Dakimakura stirred a strange flutter within him. Jealousy? He denied it, yet a part of him secretly wished someone would come looking for him.

But Lara knew one thing: he would prioritize the Dakimakura’s safety above all else.

No one could outlast the pillow that had been chewed on for at least a decade. Though he understood it logically, his restless heart remained unconvinced. Lara soon drifted back into a long sleep.

Contrary to Lara’s expectations, Emperor Karlahee wasn’t deploying every soldier to find the Dakimakura. Having lost it at Daeshin Shrine, it must be lying somewhere. He planned only to stop by the Lost and Found as soon as the shrine reopened tomorrow.

To him, Lilica-chan’s Dakimakura was more precious than anything. Strangely, the idea of sleeping without it didn’t cause any anxiety. His mind was crowded with other thoughts, leaving no space for worry.

‘…Surely by now you must be very disappointed, right? Is it because the Emperor is such a nerd? Or because that nerd deceived her…? Sigh.’

A deep sigh, as if it could pierce through the floor, escaped from his thin lips.

Karlahee lay sprawled on his bed, brooding like a troubled teenager. Thoughts tumbled in his mind—what should he say when he sees her tomorrow? And what if she avoids him? The endless cascade of worries threatened to give him a headache.

‘What if… she says she never wants to see me again?’

Who will he now passionately geek out with about Magical Girl Lilica-chan? Who will be the first to hear about the new release? Who will share in the excitement over the merchandise? Without someone to appreciate his dark mage quips and even craft the Lord Robes x Lilica couple ring, he’d be alone once more.

Before meeting her, indulging in his fandom alone had been perfectly normal. But now, oddly, it felt impossible. The thrill just wasn’t there for Karlahee—a feeling he’d never experienced before.

It felt as if a part of him had fallen away, or as if half his soul had vanished—utterly empty. It wasn’t just about losing a companion for his fandom; no one had ever connected with him as deeply as his dear friend.

That friend was none other than Lara.

Then it happened—a loud, scraping sound at the door caught his attention.

“…Lara?”

That eerie noise in the dead of night set his nerves on edge, but Karlahee couldn’t help but hope that maybe Lara had come to see him. Though such an act would be suicidal in a horror story, his body had already moved toward the door despite his cautioning mind.

“…Lara? You’re Lara, right?”

Karlahee swallowed hard as he placed his hand on the doorknob. The cold metal sent a sudden shiver through his body.

With his eyes tightly shut, Karlahee turned the knob. He prayed that Lara stood behind the door—and that it wasn’t a ghost. A ghost would make him the first romantic lead to die of a heart attack, an honor he wasn’t willing to accept.

Screech—

The door, usually silent, creaked in an eerie, unsettling fashion. Could it be a ghost? Though the time for spectral mischief had long passed, his desperate denial returned with strength.

Before the door, a pitch-black figure crouched while mimicking a scratching motion. Just as Karlahee felt his heart strain and his mind reel, the dark shape shook its head—and a clump of mud slapped against his cheek.

“It’s me! Your Highness!”

The booming voice was so loud that even upstairs complaints wouldn’t be a problem. Karlahee lowered his blue eyes to avoid the figure’s gaze. As the dark mud fell away, a bright face with cascades of golden hair came into view.

“Creon?”

“Open the door, please!”

“You really scratched the door so loudly to get it opened? How cute.”

Gazing fondly at his subordinate Creon, Karlahee eagerly welcomed him into his chamber. Yet Creon didn’t immediately follow; he turned as if to check for something behind the door, then leaned forward and began dragging something through the narrow gap with labored effort.

As Karlahee stepped forward to open the door wider, the object finally came into view. Creon was clutching a pillow corner nearly as big as a person. It was none other than Lilica-chan’s Dakimakura.

Perhaps having been dragged carefully to avoid the mud, the Dakimakura was nearly spotless—though bits of stuffing peeked out from its worn fabric back.

“How on earth… did this happen…?”

“It’s an item once owned by a demon from the Demon Realm. He was a soldier in the Grand Campaign, and he claimed to have stumbled upon it and taken it as spoils of war. Ah, but first, let me explain how I met him.”

Creon walked over with a calm, measured stride and knelt before Karlahee, placing the Dakimakura at the Emperor’s feet. It was a display of unwavering loyalty—as if presenting the severed head of a defeated enemy.

“He was the one who, lost and wandering in the Demon Realm, personally brought me to his mansion and fed me. I learned all this information over several days at his mansion. He was in service, and to keep me entertained, he tossed this item—essentially, the spoils he had picked up.”

“…”

“I recognized Your Highness’s scent in it. That scent pulled me straight back here.”

Karlahee was speechless. To think he had tracked this distant journey relying solely on a scent—it was a pure, untainted heart. It reminded him of a white Jindo dog from his childhood that once wiped away his tears.

“Sir Creon, I am touched by your unwavering loyalty.”

Though his tone was monotonously firm, it inadvertently made the Emperor’s nostrils flare.

“You are far too valuable to remain merely an aide to an emperor. Therefore, I award you the Empire’s most precious and honorable commendation. And from today on, you are promoted to my closest confidant.”

“It is an honor, Your Highness.”

Creon, still kneeling humbly, collapsed onto the floor—a gesture that spoke volumes of the trust placed in him as he prepared to have his belly scratched.

“Before I can scratch your belly, I must first wipe off all this mud.”

“…?”

Since the word ‘bath’ wasn’t mentioned, Creon couldn’t fathom what was about to happen. He simply trailed after Karlahee, who clutched a delicious snack, into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, a woman entered the empty chamber. It was Elina II, who had teleported straight from the Demon Realm to the royal chamber, thanks to Lady Elina IV’s magic. In truth, she had disguised herself as Lady Elina I while borrowing Elina II’s body from Kim Bing-ui.

‘Where’s the tyrant male lead? I wish he’d drop onto the bed, if only he knew~’

Few moments could rival the fantasy of a tyrant suddenly landing on a bed. It would be even better if he, with his laid-back flair, declared something like, ‘How dare you set foot in my chamber?’ while brandishing a sword at his own neck.

Only by shamelessly denying any invasion of privacy would he catch her attention. A tyrant with a fierce, stubborn temperament is more likely to be drawn to a feisty female lead than a meek one—even if a legal battle would put him at a disadvantage.

Of course, safety was assured. Although the engagement was canceled due to a demon incursion at Daeshin Shrine, they remained legally betrothed on paper. Yet, despite every precaution, reality often fell far short of idealism.

The overly lavish room clearly resembled the Emperor’s bedroom, yet the bed was empty. The timing was off. Elina II pondered whether she should sit on the bed waiting for him or simply collapse in sleep, as if exhausted from waiting.

“Ugh, I can’t be bothered.”

Just as Elina II sank onto the bed, a faint sound was heard from afar.

‘From down the hall?’

Elina II got to her feet and, rushing toward the sound, felt something damp and slimy press against her foot—mud. The kind of mud that should never come from the emperor’s room.