A Morning’s Embrace and Ominous News

The next morning, Rolan woke to the sensation of something pressing down on him. More precisely, it was something soft.

Opening his eyes, he saw something utterly beyond his imagination right before him.

‘Impossible,’ he thought. ‘This must be a dream.’ He closed his eyes, then opened them again.

“What is it?” Freya pressed her soft body close to his chest, a gentle smile radiating from her face. “Still sleepy?”

Rolan swallowed, trying to suppress the unruly thumping of his heart.

“What time is it?” he quickly fumbled for an excuse, though a part of him secretly anticipated the little Demon Lord making an even bolder move.

‘Tsk, how am I becoming so depraved?’

“How would I know? There isn’t a clock in the house,” Freya murmured, pressing her face against his chest. Her fingers traced light circles over him, and Rolan could feel her warmth and the faint scent of her hair. “Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d tease you.”

‘How does this girl usually wash herself? She smells strangely good.’

‘This girl, she’s dangerously alluring!’

“Well, you woke me up, and that’s not good,” Rolan said, attempting to sound like a perfect gentleman. “Usually, you’re off to make breakfast after you wake up.”

‘Actually, you’re usually off to *eat* breakfast. You’re always the most enthusiastic about that.’

“Oh, really? Well, I don’t feel like cooking today; maybe next time.” Freya shifted her body, which was still pressed against his. Her warm skin slowly slid upwards as she brought her innocent face close to Rolan’s. “You haven’t told me something.”

Rolan’s heart instantly skipped a beat. ‘Could it be that this little devil has regained her memories?’ he wondered. ‘Is she playing with me like this?’

“That matter…”

“Wh-what?”

“My past memories!” Freya exclaimed, forcefully bumping her head against Rolan’s, forehead to forehead. She tried her best to look fierce. “How dare you forget?”

‘Don’t get your face so close, hey! Your breath is hitting my face!’

‘I really haven’t thought of the rest of the story yet, maybe…’

‘This is the only way…’

And so, Rolan recited the entire story Freya had concocted earlier. He merely added a detail at the end, describing how she had been enchanted by his Holy Sword, but ultimately, he had rescued her.

“I see…” A trace of guilt flickered in Freya’s eyes, her expression utterly endearing. “To think I… coveted your sword. I’m sorry…”

‘Please don’t make that face. I really can’t take it anymore.’

“Cough, cough. What’s past is past,” Rolan quickly said, scrambling out of bed, terrified his resolve would be further eroded. “When we eat later, don’t give anything away when you meet my mother, alright?”

Freya extended both hands, taking Rolan’s tightly. A faint blush graced her face, her expression gentle as water, and she softly hummed in affirmation.

‘Whoa, whoa, you’re overdoing it! This isn’t a scene where you meet the parents. You, girl, should know when to stop; I’m already trying so hard to act. If you keep being so wifely and motherly, I really can’t promise I won’t take you!’

‘If I were to take her, and then she recovered her memories… she’d surely hunt me to the ends of the earth, wouldn’t she?’

‘Sigh, no, let’s not. I really don’t want to invite that much trouble…’

After washing up, he walked into the kitchen, his hand still firmly clasped by Freya.

“We’re having wheat cakes today…” Old Jenny had just lifted the pot lid, and before she could even acknowledge the steaming white vapor, she saw Freya clinging tightly to Rolan.

She seemed to disbelieve her eyes, rubbing them before taking a few more glances, then suddenly broke into a knowing smile.

‘Finally, have you two reached that stage?’

Old Jenny resisted the urge to give her son a thumbs-up, instead greeting them with a beaming smile and inviting them to breakfast.

Seeing the steaming food, Freya’s face lit up with a joyful smile. She picked up a wheat cake, blew on it a few times to cool it, but then, as if an idea struck her, she gently broke off a small piece and offered it to Rolan’s mouth.

Rolan, who was drinking water, saw the little Demon Lord’s gesture and felt his face twitch involuntarily.

‘You… you’re more womanly than any woman right now…’

“Hm?” Freya tilted her head at a charming angle, a smile playing on her lips.

‘Damn it, this girl’s destructive power is too strong!’

‘I can’t resist!’

Rolan, ‘against his will,’ ate the piece of wheat cake. He then ‘against his will’ smiled, ‘against his will’ stroked her soft, white hair, and finally, ‘against his will,’ said, “You eat first. I’ll just have some water.”

“Oh.”

At that moment, from an angle Freya couldn’t see, Rolan covered his mouth, feeling his face burn.

****

“Do you still remember how to use magic?” Rolan asked. It was a rare occasion for him to take Freya out for a stroll, but with the complicated situation at Paimon Fortress, the village was almost deserted.

“Magic?” Freya pondered, wrinkling her cute nose as she walked behind him. “How do you use it?”

“Well…” Rolan didn’t quite know how to explain it to her, then suddenly realized he only knew how to *use* mana, not much about magic itself. “Just, you feel the mana, and then…”

“Mana?” Freya posed another critical question. “How do I feel it?”

Rolan was stumped by the question. To him, it was like being asked how to breathe, yet paradoxically, he couldn’t answer.

“Sigh, never mind. If you don’t know magic…” Rolan mused. “That’s probably for the best.”

‘At least you won’t constantly cause trouble for me like before. That’s good, very good.’

“Do you want me to know magic?” Freya suddenly turned to face him, leaning her face close.

“Don’t force these things,” Rolan said earnestly, patting her shoulders with a meaningful expression. “Magic is a profound and extensive subject.”

Freya nodded, waiting for Rolan to continue.

“So…” Rolan smacked his lips, a moment of awkwardness passing. “Don’t force it.”

This awkward performance finally earned Rolan a look of disdain from Freya.

‘I must admit, that look was exactly like the little Demon Lord’s before.’

Freya pursed her lips in thought, then declared with a hint of defiance, “I’ll definitely learn magic well and show you!”

Rolan pressed a hand to his forehead. ‘Are there really so few spells you know?’ he thought. ‘As the Demon Lord in your previous life, you knew countless spells…’

“Cough, cough! What are you two doing here?”

Rolan turned his head and saw Village Chief Roan.

“Good day, Village Chief.” “Good day, Village Chief!”

After both greeted the Village Chief, Freya, for some unknown reason, quietly hid behind Rolan. She clutched the corner of his clothes with one hand, peeking out with half her head as if suffering from social anxiety.

“You two young lovebirds, it’s rare to see you strolling around the village,” Village Chief Roan said, his hands clasped behind his back. He didn’t seem to mind Freya’s behavior, his wrinkled face showing the characteristic concern of an elder. “That’s Freya, isn’t it? She’s truly beautiful. She reminds me of Rolan’s mother when she was young…”

“My mother when she was young?” Rolan suddenly felt a flicker of interest.

Roan nodded, his expression turning nostalgic. “She was once the most beautiful woman in our Paimon Baronetcy. What a pity…”

“A pity?” Freya whispered, still clutching Rolan’s clothes from behind him.

“It’s a pity that one day, a strange man came to our village. He met Rolan’s mother, and soon after, they became lovers, but…” Roan’s face showed a hint of regret. “Not long after, that man took your mother away for a period. When your mother returned to the village, all we could learn from her was that the man, your father, had died.”

Rolan’s heart jolted. So his mother had such a past. He had asked about his father before, but his mother had always refused to answer, simply telling him not to concern himself with it. After several unanswered inquiries, he had stopped trying to find out.

“I see…” Rolan fell into thought. After a moment, he spoke again. “Village Chief, do you know my father’s name?”

“His name is…”

Just as the Village Chief was about to speak, a messenger on a tall horse suddenly galloped into view from the distance. The messenger held a letter aloft, his face etched with exhaustion, and the horse beneath him also seemed to be running out of strength.

The Village Chief’s expression suddenly turned ashen. He shook his head at Rolan. “Let’s not talk about this for now; I have something important to attend to!”

With that, he went to meet the messenger.

Whatever they discussed remained unknown, but the Village Chief’s face grew increasingly grim. Especially after opening the letter, his expression became filled with shock and worry.

“What’s wrong?” Rolan asked, stepping forward curiously, only to see Village Chief Roan shake his head.

After what seemed like a long moment of deliberation, Village Chief Roan addressed Rolan with a solemn tone.

“Prepare to flee.”

“Why?”

“Those monsters, they bypassed Paimon Fortress…” Roan’s face was ashen, his voice heavy. “They’re coming here.”