Chapter 81: A Day of Unusual Mishaps

“Why…?”

The Head Maid swiftly deciphered a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, madness, pleasure, frenzy, obsession, canine-like glee, and guilt—in the bizarrely glowing golden eyes of the man. Whether he recognized her or not, his gaze soon softened.

“Head Maid…”

“Yes, Creon. Just where have you been? Or rather, how did you manage to get into such a state…?”

“I took a walk in the garden.”

“What in the world did you do on that walk to end up covered in mud? Explain!”

“I paused by a puddle, and before I knew it, I was rolling around like a madman.”

“Now your master’s going to have your head. Oh dear, you’ve taken a proper mud bath, haven’t you?”

“It’s entirely my fault. I lost control for a moment—I’m sorry.”

While Creon bowed respectfully to apologize, the Head Maid tossed a towel over his head and grabbed the back of his neck. His long, lanky frame made it a clumsy grip.

“You need a bath. Come quietly with me to the washroom.”

“Let go of me! I don’t want to bathe!”

Creon shook his body vigorously, sending clumps of wet, black mud flying as they splattered the servants.

Mud-encrusted Creon broke free of the Head Maid’s grasp and teleported away. With his body dyed black, he stepped into another world— the Demon Realm.

* * *

At the highest floor of the imposing Demon King Castle, the Elder Council had been summoned after a long hiatus. The high-ranking demons remained silent about the recent calamity—the failed abduction of the Holy Maiden, along with nearly a hundred injured and dozens dead. The scene was nothing short of horrific.

“At least we managed to salvage something,” he snickered.

“The losses are immense. Even if there’s any gain now…,”

“You’ll see soon enough. Heh, bring them in!”

At his confident command, a nearby door swung open. Demon soldiers waiting outside hauled in the prisoners exactly as instructed. The women, their wrists bound in long ropes reminiscent of sausages, were none other than…

“Holy Maiden…? But there are four of them?”

It turned out they were Lady Elina I, Elina II, Lady Elina III, and Lady Elina IV. To the demons, they all appeared as silver-haired maidens.

“What is the meaning of this…!”

“We captured them from a temple in the Human Realm. As you can see, they bear the exact likeness of the Holy Maiden.”

“But we never received any intelligence about there being four Holy Maidens…”

At that, the demon’s gaze wavered. Observing the uneasy glances exchanged between his fellows and the maidens, one of the Nomads issued an order.

“Unshackle them.”

One by one, Lady Elina I, Elina II, Lady Elina III, and Lady Elina IV were freed from their restraints. Perhaps fearing possession by a brash dimension-hopper, Elina II—dressed in Lady Elina I’s clothes—was the first to speak.

“If you’re looking for the Holy Maiden, none of us is her! I’m telling the truth.”

“One among us must be lying.”

Lady Elina IV said quietly. Though both the demons and the maidens looked on in consternation, she calmly continued.

“Let me start with my opinion: among us, there is an Elina V—that is, the Holy Maiden.”

“How do we know a human woman isn’t lying?”

“I’ll give you a hint on how to find the Holy Maiden.”

Murmurs spread among the demons. Lady Elina III, ever cautious of a dangerous turn of events, let her hand hover near the dagger concealed under her dress. The tense silence was soon broken by another of Lady Elina IV’s lighthearted interjections.

“For starters, let’s label you A, B, C, and D, in the order you stand. First hint: there are five Elinas in total, and only one is the Holy Maiden.”

“We only captured four… which means she could be among them—or might not be at all. Heh, feels like gambling, doesn’t it?”

“Second hint: although all the Elinas have the same volume, the Holy Maiden weighs 15 grams more than the lightest one.”

“So, we need to weigh all the Elinas to pinpoint the lightest…”

“There’s a condition. We can only use a balance scale without any markings, comparing at most two Elinas at a time. Plus, we have five 5-gram weights to use, one per weighing.”

Without delay, the Nomads ordered the fetch of a balance scale big enough for a person and five 5-gram weights. Meanwhile, Lady Elina IV continued with her hints.

“Third hint: the Holy Maiden has less muscle mass than Lady Elina III—the strongest of the four in terms of muscle. Of course, you can’t tell from appearance, nor by feel. We assume muscle mass is proportional to overall mass.”

“So, we need to first identify who Lady Elina III is…”

“Fourth hint: Lady Elina III isn’t at either end of the line.”

“That means A and D are out, leaving either B or C…”

“I recall that when comparing C and B, B was heavier… so then…”

“But if we assume B is Lady Elina III, then A might be the Holy Maiden…”

“I’ve never had such a splitting headache in thousands of years…”

The members of the Elder Council began muttering and massaging their temples in frustration. Eventually, one demon, enraged, slammed his fist on the table and stood up.

“Dammit, fetch me some paper! And a pen too!”

That night, the demons barely left the castle as they immersed themselves in solving the puzzle—like a real-life escape game.

* * *

“Kreeeaaak! Krh-hahaha!”

“So, when is this going to end?”

Lara Schmord watched Rahi, who had been darkened by his inner turmoil, for an hour and thirty-two minutes while sitting on a sofa.

She couldn’t help but feel helpless—unable to approach him or force him out of the black sphere he was trapped in. All she could do was wait.

According to the demons, within him a fierce battle raged between his dark and light sides. Initially, she had hoped the light would triumph, but after an hour, she just wished for a quick resolution regardless of the outcome.

“Hey, you’ll snap out of it today, right?”

“It’s only been an hour and thirty-two minutes. Heh, you’re far more impatient than you look.”

On the other side, a young demon sipped his tea leisurely. Lara’s eyes, fixed on her cold drink, suddenly lifted as a noticeable vibration emanated from the black sphere.

“It’s finally starting.”

“Wait, what now?”

“No, it’s over. What I meant was, a rebirth has begun. Heh.”

Reassured by the demon’s words, he rose from his seat and picked up a crutch stationed beside the sofa. As the dark aura gradually receded, Rahi emerged at last. Apart from swapping his round spectacles for sunglasses, he looked unchanged. Still, sensing something, the demon spread his arms wide.

“Heh, you’ve absorbed the magic. My brother, how do you like your new body? Heh-heh.”

“Heh-heh… So this is a demon’s body… such powerful magic pulsing within?”

Rahi fiddled awkwardly with his unaltered hands, repeatedly clenching and unclenching them. Then, he opened his eyes and stared at Lara, who awkwardly sat nearby, clearly having missed his cue.

“What’s with that human woman?”

“…Could it be that she doesn’t remember me?”

Lara bit her lip then released it. After waiting for an hour and a half, she felt exasperated. Damn it.

“Is this a present for me? Heh-heh, a fresh human woman—I quite like her.”

“I’m tired, so I’m heading home. I’ve waited long enough. When you come to your senses, tell her to find me.”

Lara bid the demon farewell with a nod. In response to this apparent slight, Rahi burst into a hearty laugh. He felt both infuriated and amused at being outright rejected by a mere human woman.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Before Lara could leave, Rahi swiftly blocked her path and pulled her into his arms. A strong scent of alcohol wafted in as she blinked in surprise and instinctively reached for his chest to push him away.

“Let go of me, Your Highness.”

“Mikhail?”

When Lara turned around, there stood Mikhail, his short golden hair now cut a bit roughly, an unfamiliar sight compared to his always neatly tied locks. It was then that Lara realized something was off with his words.

“Did you just say ‘Your Highness’?”

Lara’s bewildered tone prompted Mikhail to smoothly reply as if he’d anticipated her confusion.

“I’ve been hiding my true identity all along while getting close to you. I was merely toying with you.”

Then, he forcefully tore Karlahee’s arm from around Lara’s waist. Stunned by this revelation, Lara staggered back, her shoulder inadvertently pressing against Mikhail’s chest.

“Calm down.”

With a smile, Mikhail gently pressed her small shoulder, urging her to lean on him. Yet his eyes sparkled provocatively as they fixed on Karlahee.

“Why? It seems there’s so much you can’t say, Your Highness.”

“…That’s not true.”

“You’re laughable. No matter what excuses you make, the fact remains that you’ve treated Lara with deceit all this time. And aren’t you already engaged?”

“How pathetic. Your very words are wrong. Did you really think I’d stoop to the trouble of concealing my identity?”

Below his sleek, sunglasses-clad nose, a confident smile played—a noble, almost scornful smirk that seemed to look down on everything.

“All right, heh-heh… My name is Karlahee, Emperor of the Empire.”