A Mother’s Hopes and a Demon Lord’s Woes

Bathed in the gentle warmth of the sun and caressed by a soft breeze, Green Village awoke to another day brimming with promise.

Old Jenny meticulously hung the freshly laundered clothes on the line in her yard, smoothing out each garment. Having toiled for a considerable time, she cast a weary glance towards the verdant expanse of grass in the distance, a faint shadow of concern crossing her features.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that her son, Roland, and Freya had grown somewhat peculiar lately. While Roland outwardly maintained his usual routine and Freya continued her household chores without complaint, a noticeable silence had fallen between them.

‘When did this begin?’ she mused.

Ah, yes, it was after their return from the Monster Forest. Roland had guided the girl out that day, and Freya’s face had been remarkably odd, flushed crimson like an overripe fruit. Upon reaching home, she’d uttered not a single word, rushing straight to bathe.

Old Jenny lifted a soaking white shirt, wringing it forcefully with both hands as crystalline water streamed from the fabric.

‘Hmm, the girl was just as drenched back then,’ she thought, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

As she finished hanging the shirt, a sudden thought made her eyelids flutter.

‘Could it be… could it be…?’

Truthfully, Roland was a grown man. It wouldn’t be surprising if he couldn’t restrain himself, especially with a lone man and woman in such a secluded spot.

‘Oh, it’s all my fault for always lingering at home! The wooden house offered terrible sound insulation, so they must have felt awkward with her presence. Clearly, I needed to find excuses to be elsewhere, rather than constantly staying around.’

An irrepressible smile bloomed on Old Jenny’s face, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

‘Ah, in my youth, wasn’t it also in that very place…’

As if lost in a profound memory, she cast a lingering gaze towards the Monster Forest, a deep sigh finally escaping her lips after a long silence.

‘That person… they never did return, after all…’

She bent to lift the washbasin, and for a fleeting moment, saw a handsome figure reflected in the shimmering water.

****

At lunchtime, Freya and Roland sat opposite each other.

Both remained silently in their seats, eyes downcast, their gazes carefully avoiding one another. Only the steady movement of their mouths as they ate broke the quiet.

Old Jenny, seated beside them, found the atmosphere exceedingly strange. After a pointed glance at the pair, she cleared her throat and spoke, “Cough, cough. I’ll be at Paimon Fort all afternoon and might return quite late.”

She then added, “No need to prepare dinner for me.”

‘The hint is clear enough. You two can figure it out yourselves,’ she thought, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“Is there anything important?” Roland questioned, raising an eyebrow as his gaze shifted towards her. “Didn’t we just sell the wool recently? There’s hardly anything to do there now.”

Noticing Roland’s attention had drifted from the table, Freya swiftly extended a ‘devil’s claw’ — her hand — towards the meat in his bowl.

As if possessing eyes on the back of his head, Roland deftly intercepted the attempted theft with his cutlery, thwarting the sneak attack.

‘Tsk, operation failed,’ Freya grumbled internally.

Freya gazed with profound disappointment at the last morsel of meat still residing in Roland’s bowl.

“To procure a few items,” Old Jenny replied with a smile, transferring a piece of meat from her own bowl to Freya’s. “Some things are simply difficult to acquire, and I might be gone for quite a while. We aren’t as strict as nobles with their separate portions and formalities, so don’t mind me.”

“Not at all,” Freya mumbled, shaking her head with her cheeks still puffed out.

A look of profound contentment on Freya’s face brought a relieved smile to Old Jenny. Finishing her meal in a few quick bites, she rose to freshen up, then picked up a bamboo basket.

Waving a hand at the two still eating, she announced, “I’ll be off now.”

The moment her figure vanished beyond the doorway, Roland finally exhaled in relief. He tapped the table with his cutlery, casting a knowing look in Freya’s direction.

“No!” Freya declared, turning her head away. “I’m not feeling well today.”

“You already used that excuse last time,” Roland countered, clearly unwilling to let her off the hook. He spoke with a sagely tone, “One cannot, or at the very least, should not, go days without washing the dishes.”

Freya’s face twisted into a disdainful sneer. “I’m not human, you know. I’m the Demon Lord!”

“Aren’t you currently playing the part of a human? Where is your dedication to the role?”

“Pah!” Freya spat, her beautiful face scrunching in exasperation. “You want me to play the role of a virtuous wife and loving mother? It’s a miracle I haven’t gone on strike already, with you exploiting me every single day! Believe me, the moment your mother returns, I’ll reveal everything!”

“Why drag her into this?” Roland asked, his expression turning comical. “Besides, you were doing such a splendid job before. Just keep it up.”

“Never!” Freya’s face flushed with a crimson blush of shame. “You already know everything, so why should I bother acting? It’s mortifying! We had an agreement: we’d keep each other’s secrets, and you’d release me once you were free from the Holy Sword’s influence.”

She swallowed her last mouthful of food. “Do you truly expect me to serve you as before? Dream on!”

“Are all you demons so ungrateful?” Roland murmured, slowly chewing his food. “I did save you twice, after all. Can’t you show a little appreciation?”

He paused, then added, “Offering yourself in marriage wouldn’t be entirely out of the question, either.”

“Pervert!” Freya shrieked, her face turning crimson with rage. She clenched her silver teeth, declaring indignantly, “The second time, *I* was the one who saved *you*, alright?”

She pointed a finger at him. “And you’ve seen me in my true form before. Do you have some kind of perverse fetish?!”

Roland regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head. “No,” he stated simply.

“I think you absolutely do!”

“One must always live in the present, after all,” Roland chuckled. “Now, be a good girl and obey, or I might just go and pull that sword out.”

‘Damn it! He’s using that threat again!’

Freya glared at him, grinding her teeth in frustration, before angrily gathering the cutlery and tossing it all into the sink.

Watching her diligently busy herself, Roland felt a profound sense of satisfaction.

****

Old Jenny arrived at a bustling market near Paimon Fort, meandering aimlessly. Her gaze flitted from stall to stall until it finally landed on a basket overflowing with blue beans.

“Oh my, are these Sildenafil Blue Beans?” Old Jenny inquired, prodding at the contents of the basket. “The color seems a bit faded. How much are they?”

“Ten copper coins for ten grams,” the bearded proprietor stated, gesturing dismissively. “If you’re not buying, don’t paw at the merchandise.”

“Hmph, what kind of business is this, not even letting a customer touch?” Old Jenny scoffed, deliberately arching an eyebrow. “Enough of the chatter. Just give me your absolute lowest price; I’m genuinely interested.”

“That *is* the lowest price,” the bearded merchant replied playfully. “Everyone who comes to my stall is genuinely buying, aren’t they? How much does your man need?”

“I’m not buying them for my man…” Old Jenny blurted out, instantly realizing her mistake. She cleared her throat, then clarified, “Nor for anyone else, for that matter. Why do you, a merchant, need to ask so many intrusive questions?”

“Hehehe… I understand,” the bearded man chuckled, rubbing his hands together, no longer pressing the issue. “Alright, how about this: you buy some other varieties, like Tadalafil beans or Vardenafil beans. If you combine them, I’ll give you a discount.”

“Youngsters… wouldn’t need quite so much, would they?” Old Jenny pondered, sinking into deep thought.

“Youngsters?” The bearded owner repeated, casting a surprised glance at the farmwoman before him. She possessed a shapely figure, sun-kissed skin from her labors, and a face that, despite a few wrinkles, remained delicate and charming. ‘This woman must have been a beauty in her youth,’ he mused. ‘But are there really so many women pursuing younger men these days?’

‘The world is truly going to the dogs!’

“Even youngsters can benefit from being well-prepared,” the bearded owner said, stroking his nose. “I’ll give you a better deal: five copper coins for ten grams. If you buy a hundred grams, you can mix and match any three varieties you wish.”

“Then I’ll take a portion,” Old Jenny said, nodding thoughtfully. “Just make sure to grind them into powder for me, each separately.”

‘This woman is truly devious!’