Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Hero and Heavenly Demon's Master (4)
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Na, Biwol, and Verdandi pressed even further north.
We'd decided that to meet Azazel Blackheart, we first had to find her sister.
In Biwol's case, she'd tracked down the humans behind the slave trade. Verdandi had learned the location through Wolfram.
The odds were good it'd be the same this time. We'd already spent a fortune and crossed the Western Regions, after all.
- Dragon! It's a dragon, Master!
- No, that's just a wyvern with legs and wings.
We even made some fun memories along the way. Biwol and Verdandi had jumped around squealing like kids at a zoo when they spotted a wyvern.
- Are those ladies from the Colorful Eyes Tribe?
- Senior! You can't call elves that!
Biwol had unwittingly made a racially insensitive remark upon seeing an elf, and Verdandi had frantically smoothed things over.
- Calling me 'senior' all the time is getting on my nerves. How about a different title?
- Then I'll call you Biwol, just like Master does!
Verdandi had casually used Biwol's name, who took it as an insult and unleashed her Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
- How dare you so carelessly speak the name Master gave me?!
- You wanna go right now?
The Hero drew her holy sword while the Heavenly Demon assumed a fist-fighting stance. My sect's teachings were rooted in bare-knuckle fighting, after all.
Biwol wielded a sword like the Heavenly Demon from the late stages of the original novel Diamond Fist King, so I'd done my best to steer her away from blades.
'...Should I buy her a sword later?'
The heart demon that had once gnawed at her mind was gone now. She was more openly affectionate—demanding kisses during morning greetings, for instance—but it no longer led to jealous outbursts that endangered others.
At worst, she'd spar with her fellow disciple Verdandi to blow off steam.
- Hah, huff... How can you block a holy sword barehanded?! This is cheating!
- And you—how is a girl with no internal energy resisting demonic qi...?
Dozens of spats over trivial things like that. They'd come to realize their skills were evenly matched, so the fights tapered off.
- If this Azazel shows up, we need to prepare!
- Dream demons are like succubi—they survive by draining the essence from adult men.
Maybe because they were close in age, they eventually bonded like true sisters.
It felt a bit suspicious, whispering about Azazel—whom I hadn't formally taken as a disciple—but their instincts weren't wrong.
'Azazel is dangerous, for sure. Verdandi and Biwol might've just gotten lucky.'
In the original story, Azazel was the girl who blackened after her protagonist crush was stolen by her twin sister.
The final boss who'd contracted with an outer god for love and tormented the novel's hero even after glimpsing the future.
That was Azazel Blackheart's true nature.
"This is... the Street of Dream Demons?!"
"It's nothing like I imagined, Master. Is this really the place?"
Our group glanced around dubiously, voices pitching up in surprise. As they said, the Street of Dream Demons was filled with gentlemen in suits and dresses strolling about.
"Yes. Human desires are most terrifying when packaged in benevolence like this."
I casually probed the passersby with my spiritual sense. They were all succubi or incubi hiding horns and tails.
"Oh yeah, their statuses show as villains! What do we do, Master?!"
Verdandi slapped a hand to her chest, ready to draw her holy sword. I shook my head firmly, signaling her to stand down.
"No swords here. Not until you meet your junior sister."
Fighting in the heart of enemy territory was madness—especially against dream demons without proper mental defenses or countermeasures.
"Then where to, Master?"
"Normally, we'd head to the monastery here, but..."
In the original, Azazel holed up in the monastery after her sister's betrayal, attempting her outer god contract.
But,
"First, let's grab a bite and think it over. Anyone had a recent nightmare?"
No matter what, fate seemed determined to block our path.
Like with Biwol and Verdandi, we'd need a guide for Azazel—likely someone tied closest to the original plot.
My guess, anyway.
"Nightmares...?"
"What are we supposed to do with nightmares to make a meal out of them?"
At Dreams of Heaven, run by Azazel's twin sister Gabriel, they cooked with nightmares as seasoning.
In a narrow alley off the street crammed with eateries stood one shop with a gold-plated door that caught the eye.
Its exterior didn't fit the Street of Dream Demons at all—a place serving drinks and dishes by winged men and women.
"Welcome to Dreams of Heaven!"
This was the Dreams of Heaven I'd mentioned to the group. I scanned for a pink-haired succubus.
Azazel's sister Gabriel shared her hair color and the distinctive wings near her waist.
"The women's clothes here are so indecent, Master! Please cover your eyes...!"
My vision went dark as flustered Biwol's voice came from behind.
Her small hands were slick with sweat. This place was indeed too risqué for kids—barely scraps of translucent fabric covering them, like angels' garb from paradise.
"Amazing! Look here, look there—no wardrobe malfunctions at all!"
Verdandi, by contrast, buzzed with excitement, peering around. Having received an oracle from her god, she was drawn to this heavenly vision.
"What dreams can I get for you folks?"
A succubus approached us then—a squinting woman with small angel wings.
"Childhood nightmare base, dusted with spicy despair, a spoonful of sweet puppy love—lamb steak, please."
I ordered a special menu unique to this shop. Straight from the original novel Possessed into an Idle Game.
It was a line I'd added, imagining my webnovel turning into a game collab with cafes or fast food joints.
"...Yes! Then adventurer, savor a taste of heaven!"
In the original, this order signaled business with the succubus server—offering dreams as payment for info.
"For these kids: recent nightmare base, two scoops of sweet future fantasies, a sprinkle of fresh first love—wrap it in a sandwich."
I spoke for Biwol and Verdandi, whose stomachs growled. Unlike mine, this was actual food.
'...Though eating in dreams will be a novel experience.'
For my disciples, lately pushing boundaries with affection, it'd be special.
They'd dream of meeting someone kinder and better than me, falling in first love—and handling meals inside it.
"What kind of dish is that? A sandwich from dreams?! Can't even imagine it!"
"You'll see once you eat. My treat, for you two."
I nodded to Gabriel, conveying my request. Once my disciples slept, we'd talk.
Minutes had passed since Biwol and Verdandi dug into their sandwiches with both hands.
"Snoooore..."
Verdandi promptly flopped her head onto the pillow below, soft snores escaping as the golden-haired Hero slumped over the table before me.
"Can't... sleep..."
Unlike her, Biwol bobbed her head, fighting drowsiness with all her might.
She even tried circulating her qi to expel the energy.
"Rest easy. The charm of this place unfolds in dreams."
"Masteeer..."
I gently stroked her hair, soft as silk, assuring her it was fine to sleep.
This was how I'd soothed her in my sect's early days when insomnia struck.
"Masteeer... I like..."
She snuggled into my lap, angelic smile on her sleeping face, breathing steady.
With everyone down, I asked the staff to move them to rooms with plush beds.
They'd already taken nightmares as payment—no essence-draining mischief here.
Just minor flirtations to perfect first-love recreations. I'd set it so acting out on the Street of Dream Demons meant losing your head.
"You were looking for me?"
Succubi and incubi didn't dream like humans. This street thrived on entering and sharing those dreams—a gourmet delight.
That was the hidden truth of the Street of Dream Demons.
"...Gabriel Blackheart."
I eyed her carefully as I spoke.
She was eerily like the Azazel I'd described—differing only in her braided hair.
"Oh? You even know my name. Recommended by another dream demon? Though I don't personally buy men's essence..."
"...Do I look like that kind of guy?"
"Hehe, you're not? I can smell the ascetic life on you."
Gabriel sniffed daintily, drawing close. Hot breath escaped as her pink eyes peeked through slitted lids.
"I'm here to talk, Gabriel."
"While wafting that intoxicating 20-year virgin scent that drives dream demons wild?"
"Yes."
I pressed her face back with my palm, denying her words.
"Shame. A little more temptation, and I might've changed my mind..."
Among succubi, purity and innocence held the highest value.
That's why pleas like 'Wanted: Man who's never dated!' weren't jokes—they obsessed over first loves and new experiences.
Why they invaded human dreams for vicarious thrills.
"I know you have a sister named Azazel Blackheart, Gabriel."
"Why bring up my sister all of a sudden...?"
I steadied my breath, preparing to reveal the cause of Azazel's fall in the original.
"Didn't you steal the man she had a crush on?"
The crude term mortals called NTR—snatching someone by making the first move on their beloved.
"...Oh? You're quite the intriguing one."
Gabriel grinned excitedly the moment I uttered it.