A Rainy Day’s Dilemma and an Unexpected Fever

This afternoon, rain poured outside the window.

Fierce winds carried heavy raindrops, relentlessly lashing against the doors and windows of the house.

In the distance, a vast expanse of white obscured the view, rendering the weather misty and profoundly gloomy.

Freya gazed blankly out the window, her beautiful back appearing cold and distant.

“Tsk, it’s come to this,” she sighed heavily. “I’ll have to change the plan.”

Indeed, the meticulously crafted plan to seize the Holy Sword had utterly failed.

Fortunately, the Holy Sword had not fallen into the Church’s hands. Now, the only thing to consider was how to deal with the Hero.

‘Should I kill him…’

Freya rested her chin on one hand, while the slender fingers of her other hand tapped a rhythm on the wooden table, constantly weighing the pros and cons in her mind.

A portion of the Holy Sword’s power still lingered within the Hero. Although her current level was higher than his, she wasn’t certain she could eliminate him.

Moreover, he was undoubtedly wary of her, making a stealthy attack quite risky.

‘Then, should I just… forget about it?’

After all, he had promised to let her go once he was free from the Holy Sword’s corruption. But…

‘Can humans truly be trusted?’

‘He is the Hero, and I am the Demon Lord.’

‘The Hero and the Demon Lord are, by nature, destined adversaries.’

‘For a thousand years, countless battles have raged between our kind.’

‘The ceaseless warfare between the Demon Realm and the Human Realm has stained the deepest recesses of both our hearts with blood.’

‘Prejudice and hatred have long been deeply ingrained in our souls.’

‘What if… he’s just deceiving me? What if he wants to use me to help him get rid of the Holy Sword’s corrupting power, only to kill me with a single strike once he succeeds?’

‘Hiss… I can’t rule out that possibility.’

After all, the Hero of her previous life was a scoundrel who felt no pressure whatsoever when betraying others.

The more she thought, the more frightened she became. Freya’s hands clenched, turning white.

Suddenly, she noticed the bracelet on her wrist.

[Keno the Thunderstrike’s Lumina Bracelet]

[Weight: 0.4kg]

[Usable by LV15 and above]

[Magic Attack +5]

[Magic Resistance +18]

[Lightning Resistance +10]

“Sigh…” She drooped her head weakly, cupping her chin in both hands, her voice filled with vexation. “If you wanted to kill me, you shouldn’t have saved me in the first place…”

‘Oh, Hero, we demons are not a race that forgets kindness…’

‘Anyway, I’ll remain vigilant. It’s a good thing this life’s Hero seems much dumber than before.’

‘If this idiot tries anything untoward, I’ll immediately flee. Even if he draws the Holy Sword to chase me to the ends of the earth, there’s nothing I can do then.’

“The rain has lessened…” She glanced out the window, estimating the time. “It should be dinner now.”

****

Old Jenny felt a little disappointed today.

Upon her return, she hadn’t noticed any difference in the two’s demeanor. As someone with experience, she could tell at a glance whether they had “done anything” last night.

However, after observing them for a long time, the results were not what she had hoped for.

‘Tsk, my son isn’t being proactive enough. It seems I need to add some ingredients.’

She took a bowl of thin porridge, made from boiled sweet potato fruit, from the pot.

From her pocket, she pulled out three bags of powder.

Sildenafil Blue Beans, Tadalafil Beans, Vardenafil Beans.

“Let’s use them all,” she muttered, sprinkling a handful. Feeling it wasn’t quite enough, her hand trembled. “Add a little more.”

Watching the constantly boiling foam of the porridge swallow and dissolve the powders, she nodded with satisfaction.

She then turned and placed the bowl of food on the dining table.

Roland, oblivious to her intentions, accepted the food and slowly took a bite. A puzzled expression crossed his face.

Old Jenny’s heart tightened. ‘Could this boy have figured something out?’ she wondered.

“This porridge today…” Roland frowned. “Why is it so sweet?”

‘Too much!’ ‘Oh dear, those beans are all terribly sweet.’

“It just means the sweet potato fruit grew well,” Old Jenny nodded emphatically, giving him an encouraging look. “Eat more! It’ll replenish your body.”

“What could this possibly replenish?” Roland found it amusing, yet he finished the food, unwilling to waste it.

Freya cast a suspicious glance at the bowl of food, feeling that something was amiss.

“The rain is heavy outside today, so you two shouldn’t go wandering around. Just go back to your rooms and rest,” Old Jenny said, rolling up her sleeves. “I’ll wash the dishes.”

‘Yay! No chores!’

Freya, who detested washing dishes, excitedly raised her hands in support. Fearing Roland might make her work again, she darted straight to the bedroom.

“Alright, I’ve been tired these past few days. I need to properly adjust my state,” Roland said, rubbing his stomach. “I feel a bit strange in my belly.”

Old Jenny, who was washing dishes, gave him a relieved look.

After confirming he had also gone to the bedroom, she finally relaxed.

‘Youngsters, keep up the good work!’

****

“Phew… Here, use this appraisal scroll,” Roland said, sitting at one end of the bed, handing the scroll to Freya.

“You’ve seen my information; I want to see yours.”

[Race: Human]

[Name: Roland]

[Occupation: Villager? Hero]

[LV: 20]

[HP: 120]

[MP: 120]

[Magic Power: (56/200) — equivalent to an experience bar.]

[Physical Attack: 76]

[Physical Defense: 88]

[Magic Attack: 70]

[Magic Resistance: 80]

[Speed: 25]

[Skills:]

[Shoulder Rub and Back Massage LV3: Through exquisite massage techniques, alleviates the target’s physical fatigue.]

[ (Unknown Information) ]

[ (Unknown Information) ]

[ (Unknown Information) ]

[Equipment:]

[Thunder Fury (Short Sword)]

[Weight: 1.1kg]

[Physical Attack +26]

[Magic Attack +28]

[Lightning Attack +7]

[Trait: Can gather lightning elements for magical attacks]

Freya took the scroll, casually injected a surge of magic into it, and then tossed it back.

“Feel free to look.”

Roland’s eyelids twitched as he stared at the appraisal scroll, which displayed nothing. “Why isn’t anything showing?”

“Because I’m the Demon Lord,” Freya tilted her head, looking at him with an utterly innocent expression.

“Each Demon Lord is produced by the previous one through a specific ritual. The former Demon Lord offers their essence blood, fusing it with the Demon Realm’s primordial power to create the next.”

She added, “How could a tiny, flimsy scroll possibly appraise the Demon Realm’s primordial power?”

“So that’s how Demon Lords are born,” Roland said, touching his burning forehead, feeling his entire body growing hot. “Then why can I be appraised?”

“Because the Hero isn’t formed from primordial power; they’re still considered normal humans… How should I put it? The Hero isn’t as complex as I am.”

“The Human Realm’s primordial power awakens strong magical talent in some humans, and the most exceptional among them becomes a suitable candidate for the Hero.”

“The Church then seeks them out to make them the Hero. As long as they accept the Church’s blessings, they become incredibly powerful, especially with the Holy Sword.”

She paused. “It’s a good thing your magic awakening turned you into an idiot back then, so the Church didn’t discover you.”

“Didn’t discover me…” Roland felt his entire body’s muscles become sore, numb, and swollen.

He covered half his face to conceal his expression. “So, there’s no Hero now…”

“There will be. If a Hero doesn’t naturally emerge, the Church will hold a sacrificial ritual themselves,” Freya’s delicate tongue traced her dry lips. “They’ll forcibly create a Hero.”

“Hmph—” Roland felt as though boiling water had been poured into him, making him intensely hot.

He looked at Freya’s face, his gaze lingering on her lips, feeling his heart pound uncontrollably.

For some inexplicable reason, memories of the soft taste he had once savored flooded his mind, and his breathing slowly grew ragged.

“Are you a dog?” Freya asked, placing a hand on his forehead in confusion. “Huffing and puffing like that.”

‘He’s quite hot. Could this guy be sick?’

‘Ugh, don’t infect me!’

‘Quarantine, quarantine!’

Roland suddenly reached out and seized Freya’s small, delicate wrist, unable to resist giving it a squeeze. Her bones felt surprisingly soft.

His fervent gaze traced a path from her tender white arm up to her shoulder, neck, and chest, his heart inexplicably growing more excited.

‘Something’s wrong! This idiot doesn’t seem normal at all!’

Freya felt a strong sense of unease. She struggled to break free, then gave a forced laugh. “Oh, it’s been so long since I cooked. My hands are itching. Is there anything you’d like to eat…”

She had barely taken a step from the bed when she felt her wrist firmly locked by something.

Turning back, she saw the heavily panting man, his face flushed with a terrifying crimson. One of his arms was tightly gripping her wrist.

Her slender wrist was now red from being squeezed by a veiny hand.

“Ow, ow, ow! Be gentle,” Freya gasped, cold sweat beading on her forehead. “I think you might have a fever. This weather is indeed a bit muggy…”

“Rainy weather, so it shouldn’t be a fever,” Roland shook his head, feeling as though his body was about to split open.

He pulled, drawing the little Demon Lord closer. “Could it be some magic? Help me check my body.”

He pulled too hard, causing Freya to stumble, her head colliding directly with his chest.

“I’ll try casting Slow Healing on you…” Freya rubbed her aching head, silently complaining about how his body felt even harder than her skull. “Hmm… where do you feel unwell?”

Roland was silent for a moment, then closed his eyes and frowned. “Try my stomach.”

Freya looked at his stomach suspiciously, then placed her hand on it, beginning to cast Basic Healing Art: Slow Healing.

‘It’s hard, huh? Is that abs?’

“Is it working?”

“I feel something…” Roland opened his eyes. “But it doesn’t seem to be enough.”

“Where else?” Freya asked, growing a little impatient. “Just tell me everything at once, and I’ll give you the full healing spell package.”

Roland fell silent again. He struggled, glancing at Freya, complex emotions flashing in his eyes.

He adjusted his breathing and posture, trying to channel his magic and willpower to resist a certain feeling.

“How strange. If there’s nothing wrong, I’m leaving…” Freya crossed her arms and stood up, intending to depart.

But suddenly, the world blurred before her eyes.

She felt her body flung heavily onto the bed. Looking closely, her expression changed dramatically.

Roland had pinned her body firmly against the wooden bed frame, seizing her hands like chains.

Freya noticed that the man before her was eerily hot, his once fair skin now flushed crimson as if he’d been placed in a steamer.

His strong legs locked her body, his incredibly stiff muscles pressing tightly against her lower half, leaving no room to maneuver.

Even through a layer of cloth, she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

At this moment, Roland’s eyes were hazy, his brown bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat.

A few glistening beads of sweat trickled down his forehead onto her face.

Freya’s heart pounded incessantly, and her body trembled uncontrollably. She was beginning to fear what would happen next.

‘What on earth does this idiotic Hero want to do?!’

“I just feel… that only you can resolve this situation,” Roland slowly lowered his head, bringing his face close to hers, and whispered, “You can’t leave until we find a solution.”

Freya felt a blast of distilled heat on her lips. She struggled with her hands, but found it futile.

Biting her lip tightly, she stared unyieldingly into his eyes, a stubborn defiance in her gaze.

“Let go of me!”

Roland pressed his burning forehead against hers, his brown eyes meeting her purple ones, his high nose bridge touching the tip of hers.

“Be good, think of a way, otherwise I’ll have to…” Roland moved his head closer to her ear, gently biting her earlobe.

Freya felt her body explode as if struck by lightning…

“Don’t…” Freya swallowed, looking at him fearfully. “Remember how hideous I used to look? You couldn’t possibly be interested in me!”

“My past life memories are very blurry,” Roland’s breath slowly moved downwards from her ear, the hot air tracing a path from her earlobe to her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“By the way, what was your name before?”

“I used to… have no name…” The little Demon Lord, pinned beneath him, tried to gather her magic, but his actions made it difficult to concentrate.

“Then your current name is quite good,” Roland inhaled the scent from her neck, feeling an unusual fragrance deeply attracting him.

“You acted very well before, so the name Freya is simply your reward.”

Feeling his teasing, the person beneath him flushed crimson with shame and indignation. “I’m not that arrogant princess, nor am I your wife! You lunatic, let go of me right now!”

“Mgh—” His grip tightened further, and Freya let out a cry of pain.

“So what?” Roland’s eyes were bloodshot. “You were the one who came to me.”

“That was acting before! It was for the Holy Sword!” Freya tried to struggle, unwilling to yield. “Acting, understand? Are you out of your mind?”

“Then why didn’t you keep acting?”

“I don’t even like you!” Freya spat at him fiercely. “Why would I keep acting?”

“…” Roland’s eyes flickered, and he was silent for a moment.

Suddenly, he looked at her neck and asked, “Did a vampire attack you before?”

“Yes, yes,” Freya recalled the unpleasant memory, an expression of disgust crossing her face. “Was the essence pill, made from the blood of my neck, tasty?”

“It tasted awful,” Roland lowered his head, finding no visible wounds, thinking that the Demon Lord’s recovery ability was indeed strong.

Estimating the location, he extended his tongue and licked the skin on the left side of her neck. “Here?”

“Mgh—what are you doing…” Freya shivered with fright, then suddenly felt a sharp pain in her neck. “Mgh—it hurts…”

Roland’s teeth pierced her incredibly delicate skin. It felt as though he was biting into a soft, sweet ball of lamb fat.

His tongue carefully licked Freya’s wound a few times, and he tasted a honey-like sweetness.

Magic surged through him, and the tearing sensation throughout his body began to recede.

“I’ll avenge you,” Roland licked his blood-stained lips, his hazy eyes slowly clearing. “The blood helped a bit. I feel much better…”

‘This bastard!’

“I’m a bit tired. I’ll sleep for a while…” Roland’s stiff body suddenly went limp, and he slowly collapsed onto her, as if all his strength had been exhausted, falling into a deep sleep.

Freya gritted her teeth, disdainfully turning her head to avoid his falling head, her gaze fixed on the window.

Outside the window, the sound of rain gradually intensified.

Soon, it was a torrential downpour.

The murky sky seemed to separate a waterfall, and the vast expanse of white rainwater crashed onto the eaves like a tide.

Endless rain fell upon the vast earth…