Chapter 42
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Chapter 8. Blood Kin
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42.
Eirana didn't know it, but apart from the recent slave market raid, there had been several other incidents that appeared to be the work of demons.
But Tersus didn't pay it much mind.
It might have seemed a bit irresponsible for a noble of the kingdom, but Tersus was merely living as one for simple amusement in the first place.
Human nations lasted a few thousand years at best.
He felt some attachment to this country, but its destruction wouldn't be anything surprising.
In his long life, he had witnessed countless human realms rise and fall beyond number.
Some of them he had even directly influenced, from their founding to their downfall.
To him, life as a human was nothing more than a game.
Silia paid no heed to Tersus's indifferent attitude.
She knew full well that, from a dragon's perspective, she was the foolish and peculiar one.
Eirana stole a glance at Tersus.
She too held little attachment to the kingdom.
Yet the thought of countless people dying in the process left a lingering unease.
She felt no pity for the nobles who had reveled in their privileges to the fullest, but the common folk, scraping by in harsh lives, were another matter.
In her past life, she had endured a grueling childhood as an orphan.
Even after rising to sub-lord of the Demonic Cult and changing her status, that deep-seated empathy remained.
Eirana gazed at Tersus for a moment before clicking her tongue softly to herself.
From a dragon's viewpoint, she was undoubtedly the odd one.
Silia watched Eirana for a beat, her expression tinged with faint curiosity, then turned to Tersus.
"The demons tied to this aren't your run-of-the-mill sorts."
Tersus's face remained impassive at Silia's words.
From his standpoint, her disproportionate concern for a single nation was simply lamentable.
Even upon hearing of demon involvement, he had brushed it off as an overreaction.
"The demon skulking in this kingdom's shadows right now is Demon King Kerdik."
Tersus's expression shifted abruptly.
But it wasn't tension or shock—it was sheer bafflement.
"Why would a Demon King bother descending to the middle realm?"
"It feels like a contract."
"No one in this kingdom has the chops to contract a Demon King."
Neither in raw power nor disposition did any human here possess the capacity to summon one.
For a spirit sorcerer by way of comparison, a Demon King's contractor would need magic on par with a Spirit King's.
That was the external factor.
No human wielding such vast power could slip past Tersus's notice.
The internal factor was the summoner's very nature.
Mere magical might wasn't enough to call forth a Demon King.
Unlike spirits, who befriended humans, demons viewed them as lowly creatures.
To a Demon King, a magically potent human was little more than a freak mutation.
Thus, for one to deign to answer a summons, the caller needed something captivating enough to entice it.
Someone pleasing to a Demon King could hardly be mentally sound.
"That Demon King claimed it wasn't a pact with anyone from this kingdom,"
Eirana interjected casually, having listened in silence.
"You've met the Demon King?"
"Yes."
Tersus scrutinized Eirana intently before nodding slowly.
"Hm. Doesn't look like you took any serious damage."
He spoke with evident relief before sinking into thought.
A mere high demon would be trivial, but a Demon King changed everything.
Summoned to the middle realm, its power waned—but it remained a force not to underestimate.
'Worse, a Demon King's stirrings never stop at one nation. I need to alert the Lord.'
Dragons served as guardians of the middle realm, after all.
Leaving a Demon King that could ravage multiple human nations unchecked was impossible.
With a deep sigh, he rose from his seat.
"I'll be stepping out briefly."
With that, Tersus vanished in a warp spell.
Silia watched him go in silence, then turned to Eirana with a soft smile.
"Mind if I crash with you for a while?"
Eirana saw no reason to refuse.
Her quarters in the royal palace were spacious enough for two.
As the princess's tutor and a guest of the crown prince, her rooms were generously appointed.
The palace was in disarray after the grand banquet, but it posed no hassle for her and Silia.
Once in her room, Eirana set Silver Fang and Black Fang atop the desk.
Silia settled gingerly into a chair by the wall, laid aside her staff, and eyed the blades.
"Dragon bone armaments, aren't they?"
She sensed they were forged from Elencan and Rakan's remains.
Gazing at the swords, she glanced at her own staff—crafted from Elencan's bone as well.
As her attention drifted, Silver Fang and Black Fang manifested, claiming their spots.
Black Fang, in his diminutive winged dragon form, soared to the wardrobe's summit and fixed Silia with a steady gaze.
Silver Fang, resembling a cub tiger, ambled over languidly and prodded her foot with a paw.
Pure instinctual affinity prompted the gesture.
Silia watched briefly, then extended a hand to scoop him up—but Silver Fang retreated warily.
She merely smiled warmly, hands outstretched.
Silver Fang studied her a moment before approaching anew; she lifted him to her lap and stroked him gently.
Eirana observed the scene wordlessly, its innocence striking.
Silia yearned to resolve the kingdom's upheavals.
Yet she wouldn't intervene openly.
The Idea royal house knew of her, surely—as a founding legend or by her might, she wielded unmatched sway here.
That influence could topple the realm if she willed it.
The brewing succession strife would end at her whisper.
She had secluded herself precisely to avoid such power.
"What's your plan moving forward?"
Silia paused mid-stroke on Silver Fang's head at Eirana's query, then replied.
"For starters, I'll have to impose on you, Eirana."
'As expected.'
True to Eirana's guess, Silia intended to stay hidden.
"Speaking of, what brings you to this kingdom, Eirana? Doesn't seem like just tutoring."
Silia's tone brimmed with curiosity.
This being Crown Prince Winzus's villa made her ties to him obvious enough.
But the specifics eluded even Silia.
"Tutor and crown prince's bodyguard,"
Eirana replied blankly.
"Tutor?"
Silia cocked her head.
"Yes. The princess's home tutor."
Silia's smile bloomed gently at Eirana's matter-of-fact words.
"You must like kids, Eirana."
A misconception, of course.
"Yeah."
Eirana nodded with shameless poise.
Silver Fang and Black Fang shook their heads in unison at their master's display.
Oblivious, Eirana peered out the window.
Night had fallen.
She gestured to the bed.
"Take the bed?"
Silia burst out laughing.
"That's yours, Eirana. You sleep there. Or... are you inviting me to share?"
"No, not that."
Eirana's face soured slightly.
Blood kin or not, bunking with a stranger felt off.
Silia tilted her head at Eirana's unease, amusement flickering, then beamed.
"Sleep easy on the bed—don't mind me. This'll do."
She nodded to the room's sofa, plush enough for repose.
Eirana hesitated, then agreed.
Lights out. Eirana climbed into bed and drifted off; Silia reclined on the sofa under a blanket.
Soon, Eirana's steady breaths filled the quiet.
Silia slipped silently from the sofa, padding to the bed.
Eirana's silver tresses spilled across the covers.
Silia gazed down mutely, then sensed eyes and turned.
Black Fang stared from his wardrobe perch.
She waved cheerily; he didn't budge.
She returned to the sofa, staring moonlit out the window.
Her silver hair gleamed.
Black Fang unfurled his wings, alighted on the table before her, and spoke.
"—You look pleased."
"Do I?"
Silver Fang hopped atop the table beside him.
"—What's the angle?"
"Angle?"
Silia's brow furrowed, doubt shadowing her inhuman eyes. Black Fang pressed on.
"—Too friendly for mere goodwill."
Silia smiled softly.
The sword spirits couldn't fathom this half-dragon.
She doted on Eirana as if she were precious.
Long acquaintance might explain it—but they'd just met.
Her baffling warmth from one so vastly more potent than Eirana bred suspicion.
It defied reason.
Silia glanced back at the sword spirits, then to Eirana—still deep in slumber.
Eirana, sharp to the slightest noise usually, slumbered undisturbed; Silia had woven a subtle sound ward to shield her rest.
Gazing silently, Silia spoke.
"Do you realize your master is an utterly bizarre dragon?"
The question came from nowhere.
The spirits knew their master's quirks well enough.
But its point eluded them.
"She has such a pure heart."