Chapter 33: A Complete Day
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
A roar echoed through the air—“Hooar!”—accompanied by a sweeping flap of wings that sent a flurry of snow swirling inside. After bursting through the broken window, the dragon’s entrance let the frost and snow rush in, crystallizing the entire room.
With a heavy crash, the wall connecting the bedroom to the castle shattered, creating a large hole. Warm light poured in behind the frosty breach, carrying the heat from inside to meet the cold outside. Following the light, the marquis stepped through—and immediately saw the Demon King who had summoned him.
The Hero, caught between enemies, grabbed the Demon King and pulled him back, but the Demon King took advantage of the moment to break free and launch a full attack. As the Hero met his gaze, he commanded sharply, “Attack him.”
He bit his lip, anger flaring as memories of betrayal and a past day came flooding back—the day he was warned, the day he was betrayed. His eyes narrowed at the hands that had only just freed themselves thanks to these two unexpected disruptions, biting down on his lip in frustration.
Snowflakes flew up behind his palm as a flash of fire flickered in the corner of his eye, emerging from the dragon’s fiery breath.
Outside, the dragon obeyed the command and attacked. The marquis, having slipped past the noisy door, advanced toward the Hero disguised as a demon.
“I…” the Hero started to say. But the Demon King, sensing his magic fading, cut him off after that day’s events. “Attack him,” he repeated, staring at the center of the bedroom. At the heart of the room, as the Demon King spoke, the Hero saw a blaze shoot in through the window. The snowflakes pouring in instantly melted into rain and mist within the dragon’s fiery breath.
Through the hazy partition, the Demon King stood behind the door where he had been before, watching. The marquis approached, bowed slightly, then headed straight for the Hero’s vital point.
“Push him out,” the Demon King ordered.
The Hero heard the command clearly. With the combined assault of the marquis and the dragon, three walls were smashed down, and he fell—his eyes locked on the Demon King as icy snow lay around him. As he landed, attacks came thick and fast.
“You…”
The dragon finally took to the air after moving into a more open space. The marquis raised his hand, summoning a magical sphere of lightning that crashed into the snow. The snow scorched in a blackened patch, while other flakes were stirred by the dragon’s wings and melted, falling as rain.
Rain began to fall from the sky. The Hero dodged the marquis’s strikes under the downpour. The Demon King stood in the rain afterward, reminded of the Hero’s foolish actions from earlier. Embarrassed and furious, he glared downward.
…
…
“I want to know the truth.”
A sudden smack landed on the Demon King’s neck. After the words, he slapped back instinctively, but the Hero caught his hand gently, halting him.
“Okay?” the Hero said seriously, holding the Demon King’s hand after being lightly tapped. “I don’t want to always be in the dark.” He rubbed his hand, and when the Demon King didn’t answer, he looked down at their joined palms. Waiting quietly, he slowly enclosed the Demon King’s fingers in his hand and tried poking one finger gently. Then he poked again.
Still waiting without resistance, he carefully curled those fingers into his palm, then opened his hand, repeated the motion, squeezed the slightly reddened fingertips, or pressed gently along the edges of the nails. He kneaded and massaged lightly, traced circles on the pads of the fingers, squeezed, and held. It was a faint sensation—light but ticklish, making him want to pull away.
The Demon King hesitated in the strange feeling, pulling back his hand at first but stopping when he met the Hero’s patient gaze. The Hero played with his fingers happily, eyes bright with a small smile, yet he kept waiting for an answer. The Demon King finally said, “…Alright…”
After that, he withdrew his hand, letting out a breath of relief as the odd sensation faded. Anyway, whether I agree or not, you won’t remember any of this tomorrow. He comforted himself with that thought while the Hero’s smile lingered. He blinked, touching his palm and fingers, then paused on those comforting words, glancing over at the Hero.
Then he bumped into a pair of eyes that were still smiling at him. The owner of those eyes smiled a little wider as the Demon King looked back, feeling like his small gestures had been watched the entire time. The Demon King thought: …It’s fine. After all, once the night passes, the Hero won’t remember a thing. If he doesn’t remember, it’s as if nothing happened, as if no one saw.
He pushed aside his habit of fiddling with his hands, trying to soothe himself and looked away. But when the Hero pulled him down to lie together, the Demon King, not looking at him, slowly collapsed onto the bed, feeling unexpectedly tired.
He tried to steady his racing heartbeat and breath, his vision fixed on the ceiling, the wall lamp, the curtains, and a patch of scenery outside, where a bird occasionally fluttered on a branch. After a while, the bird took flight, wings beating lightly as it left.
The branches outside danced lively, leaves twirling and occasionally brushing each other before drifting apart again. Amid these small touches, someone wrapped their arms around him.
The Demon King stared at the leaves as the Hero hugged him carefully, and since he didn’t pull away, the embrace deepened. Then another kiss. Suddenly touched at a sensitive spot, the Demon King growled, “…Let go.”
The Hero, after kissing his neck, buried his head in the Demon King’s shoulder, ignoring the demand.
“Let go!”
The Hero didn’t let go—instead, he kissed the Demon King again. When the Demon King snapped back to reality, blushing, the Hero smiled softly. Amid the laughter, as the Hero’s soft hair brushed against his neck, the Demon King pushed the head away firmly and said with mock severity, “If you don’t let go right now, I’m going to hit you!”
After one last reckless kiss, the Hero darted away. The Demon King grabbed whatever was nearby and swung it—“Ahhhhhh!”
Did the Hero not understand human language? No biting the neck! Nooooo!
…
That night, after a day of roughhousing, the Demon King pinned the exhausted Hero back onto the bed. When the Hero tried to stir up trouble, the Demon King ruthlessly suppressed him, crushing every thought or word the Hero wanted to say beneath the tightly pulled blanket.
After tucking the Hero in, the Demon King sat quietly for a while. Outside, the stars glittered brilliantly. He stared at the starry sky without the moon for quite some time, then pulled out some paper. His pen hovered over the sheet for a long while, leaving a smudge of ink.
Frustrated, he tossed the stained paper aside to be destroyed, thought for a while longer, and then pulled out a fresh sheet. On one side, he wrote a simple, short phrase: “Eat candy.”
After a moment, he crossed it out. “Take medicine.”
Again, he crossed it out. “Eat candy.”
…
In the end—
On the front, it said “Eat candy,” and on the back, “Take medicine.” He placed the paper under the medicine bottle that had been used as a weapon earlier that day. He wrote several more sheets. He glanced at the Hero hidden beneath the covers.
—Tomorrow, you won’t remember any of this, right? So no matter what was said or done, it might as well not exist. No need to worry.
…
…
After dodging the attacks, the Hero looked up, his expression blurred behind the rain curtain.
The Demon King’s gaze lowered after the rain, shrouded in mist and drizzle, watching the Hero dodge and fight back against the dragon and marquis’s assault below. Sometimes, it seemed like the Hero looked up; sometimes, it seemed he didn’t. Snow melted steadily in the battle, water flowing along the ground.
Nearby guards and demons who had arrived stood quietly, waiting, while the Demon King remained silent. Raising his eyes between water and ice, the Demon King scanned the Hero. After more demons arrived, he blinked, pushed the memories of that day aside, and forced his anger into calm. Then, pointing below, he ordered two earls forward:
“Please, assist the marquis.”
From that moment, after being wounded, the Hero faced overwhelming odds—one against four.
—You’re angry. The Hero, matched one-on-one against the four demons who formed the mage squad, found a moment amid the battle to glance upward in full awareness. Magic and close-quarters combat erupted in rapid succession.
—What about me? What about my attacks outside the squad?
The Demon King quietly watched the snow melting faster, sometimes refreezing into ice. Blood—whose, he couldn’t tell—dropped between the snow and frost, staining a patch red before slowly vanishing, as if it had never been there.
The dragon breathed fire from the sky. When more demons gathered below, it stayed aloft, resting its wings while sending flames downward. Occasionally, it circled overhead, searching for other angles. A light snowfall swirled from the dragon’s wingbeats.
After counting the back-and-forth below, the Demon King reached out and caught a few snowflakes. He condensed his magic, turning the snow and water in his palm into ice, then made it disappear—
A magic circle appeared indiscriminately on the ground below, breaking many attacks like a signal. The Hero, hit after being injured, froze in place after the strike. Snow kicked up by the magic circle rose high into the air, then fell evenly, blanketing the people and demons on the ground. Meeting the orderly gaze beneath the falling snow, the Demon King lowered his eyes and said, “…Enough.”
He withdrew his magic given the current situation. “Marquis, that’s enough.”
—The last of his magical energy was spent. He felt a bit tired.
“Let it end here. After punishing the demons who dared offend me, I will rest. Please, all leave. Also, Duke, please, handle the aftermath—evacuations, healing, cleanup, and castle repairs. Thank you.”
After speaking, the Demon King counted the movements below, then stepped back coldly into the heavily damaged bedroom, never looking back. The Hero watched him silently.
As his words fell, the guards took their leave. The Hero—seen by others as one of the demons—stood rooted while other demons walked away, chatting casually. After the Demon King announced the matter settled, the Hero remained fixed in place. The dragon rested after those words. But as it stepped into the puddles of water and ice covering the ground, it slipped.
The Demon King, having quietly withdrawn, turned back at the sudden mishap. With a faint smile, he looked at the dragon struggling to balance and said slowly,
“…Go.” His smile faded as he finished speaking. He turned and walked into the ruined, shadowed bedroom, leaving the duke—the highest authority—to evacuate the demons who came to investigate or gawk, and to deal with the damaged castle and possessions.
The dragon, hearing the command once again through their contract, picked up the Hero and left as before. The Hero, fixed on the Demon King’s gaze, was once more expelled upon arriving in the demon realm.
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