Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Honorable Irasorn, now is not the time for us to show ourselves."

William stared at the skeletal, living human form, then reached out to shield Fanila behind him. "Lich..."

His gaze lingered on Hines, who was hiding in his closet like a tortoise, his expression odd.

"Mr. Hines?"

Hines forced a smile onto his stiff face. "Long time no see, William." How embarrassing, to have a junior see him looking so disheveled.

“Irason is an elder of our dream elves, not a bad person, relax, William.”

Having received Hines' promise and with Irasorn nodding like a chick pecking at rice beside him, William put his wand away.

Irasorn took small, quick steps and embraced Fanila, laughing with the same joy as Fanila.

"Can you accept the existence of an ancestral lich?" The living and the dead reveling together is hard to imagine. Even knowing that Lyle is a necromancer, William cannot imagine that scene.

Hines was pleased that the topic had been shifted elsewhere.

"Of course, she is the dead, and also our family. Don't you humans also have a dragon priest?"

"Dragon Priest?"

"Those who once served the dragons, those who led their people to greatness, are now reduced to ashes."

William's eyes softened, and he scratched his head, looking embarrassed at the two women who were laughing and joking.

“I’m sorry to keep this from you, Mr. Hines, but I like Fanila.”

"Feelings are a natural instinct for living beings, and there's nothing to be ashamed of. Rather, you've solved a problem for me. I sometimes worry about Fanila's future; she ran away from her own hometown and befriended some scoundrels. At least, the person she loves is you, and you, Mr. William, are a suitable spouse for Fanila."

Hines stiffly expressed his approval of his niece's boyfriend.

“But now, Mr. William, you must strive to survive.” Hines picked up the lantern and showed it to William. In the firelight, two small figures were dancing in an embrace. One vanished shortly afterward, and the other stopped dancing, kneeling and sobbing. “Elves have very long lifespans, which makes other races hesitate. I don’t want Fanila to suffer loneliness in her long life after you die of old age. Elves are focused people. We hold grudges, but we also cherish our feelings for each other. William, you must become strong; magic can prolong your life. Otherwise, I will dig your bones out of the grave and transform you into a lich.” Hines’s eyes turned cold. Although it was only a warning, William felt that he wanted to act immediately. Perhaps, this is the feeling of an old father who has lost his beloved daughter.

“I will, Mr. Hines, I will cherish every moment with Fanila.”

"By the way, succubi are also beings with extremely long lifespans, so William, you'll need to put in twice the effort."

“?” Succubus. Looking into Hines’ cold eyes, William felt a chill creep up his spine. His lips trembled as he stiffly squeezed out a few words.

"Mr. Hines, did I hear that right?"

Hines squinted, the glint in his eyes like a blade, tearing William's hopes to shreds.

“If I misheard you, then I’ll explain it clearly, word by word. Succubus Anna, your colleague, the other person in your heart, Mr. William, your courage is greater than I imagined.”

“Since we were able to let Fanila see everything about you in Blood Rose, we can naturally see the other person you care about as well. Mr. William, do you have anything else to explain?”

William felt his blood freeze, he felt infinitely small in front of Hines, and sweat washed away his body heat like ice and snow.

A pair of soft arms pulled William into a warm embrace, and Fanila's fragrance wafted close to William's nose.

“Don’t make it sound so scary, Uncle Hines,” Fanila said, stroking William’s stiff hand and complaining to Hines.

Under Fanila's comforting caresses, William is like a dying man who has been resurrected. He looks at Fanila's smooth face, his eyes darting away.

"So you know about Anna too, Fanila?"

Fanila took out an egg-shaped leaf and wiped the fine sweat from William's forehead. "Of course I know, because I know Anna's eyes and the expression on her face all too well, like I'm looking in a mirror. But you, you blockhead, didn't notice at all."

Aren't you angry?

“Angry? It’s impossible not to be angry.” Fanila’s smile faded slightly as her fingers traced William’s cheek. “But, as an observer watching everything you’ve been through, even though it hurts, it’s hard not to cheer Anna on. Your conflicts, your bickering like lovers, the feelings within them, are like a moonflower fruit ripening. If she and William were to fall in love, it would surely be a wonderful thing. As for me…”

"If I could, I would also like to see Anna happy."

This means... consent?

"But aren't elves a race that is monogamous?"

“Yes, basically, elves only like one person,” Fanila’s fingers slid lightly across William’s palm. “But elves still prefer harmonious races, and I don’t want to see you and Anna unhappy. Besides, humans aren’t monogamous, are they? Many nobles among the arcane have multiple spouses.”

"William will definitely be better than them in the future, so there's no reason why he can only choose one spouse. Or is it that William doesn't like Anna? William, you can like two people at the same time, right?"

Seeing the uncertainty in Fanila's eyes, William hugged her tightly.

"Thank you, Fanila."

Fanila's body softened in William's embrace, leaning against his chest as if she couldn't support herself.

"This isn't about spoiling you, it's just that I like Anna too. And you can't lessen your feelings for me, you have to reciprocate even more! Otherwise, I'll run away with Anna!"

William hugged Fanila tighter, wanting to meld her into his body.

"I will, Fanila. I will love you even more and won't give you a chance to escape."

Fanila stroked William's head with her palm, and her bright red lips breathed into William's ear.

“Go and find Anna, William. This time, you must try your best to confess your feelings.”

“…I will, Fanila.”

“Anna hasn’t left the City of Wanderers yet, and she’s in trouble right now. Irason is the most powerful diviner I’ve ever met; she’ll tell you where Anna is. Go and get what you want, William.”

Fanila released her arms, gave William a light kiss on the cheek, and went up the stairs.

William asked Irasorn for Anna's location, then quickly left Hines's cabin.

Hines walked up to the second floor, where the little girl he remembered was playing her harp in the shade of the trees by the window. Hines saw the light on her face, which rippled with the melodious music.

“You’ve never been a girl who knows how to be considerate, Fanila. I still remember when you were little, when your sister asked you to share the fruit with your playmates, you cried in front of me for a long time…”

The fingers that had been dancing on the strings stopped.

“Mother’s request is right, just like now. I know it’s the right thing to do.” Fanila looked up at her uncle, tears falling like jewels. “But why does it still hurt so much even though it’s the right thing to do… Uncle?”

Just like before, Hines stroked her head, a glint of light flashing in his somber eyes.

“Our little girl has grown up and become a beautiful young woman. Your parents, Dordo and Frannell, will bless you, Fanila, our dream.”

Fanila snuggled against Hines' shoulder like she did when she was a child, "No way, they don't care about me at all. I've been here for so long and they haven't paid any attention to me."

“That’s because I correspond with them every day. Their tree monkeys came to my place, so of course I have to keep an observation journal.” Hines successfully made Fanila laugh through her tears.

"And I will soon have some good news to tell them."

"Their baby is in love."

Chapter 289 The Princess's Cry for Help

There was no sky to be seen, and the surroundings were rough rocks inlaid with glowing gems, with some mixed dirt splashing onto the skirt armor with each step.

A lithe figure raced through the cave, its living armor composed of tough, black scales splitting the airflow as it went berserk, aiding its acceleration while the shrill sound of tearing through the air echoed through the enormous cavern.

Every step resulted in mud splattering everywhere, even the rocks at the edges were not spared.

Guleria could have done it more gracefully; her body was as light as a cat, and if she wanted, she could have left no trace. But that would have been too slow, and the hunter behind her wouldn't have allowed her to be so leisurely.

It didn't matter where she was exposed anymore. Gurelia's enchanted claws dug into the rock, and the force of her bulging muscles propelled her body into the darkness of the cave.

Hunter and prey are one, and Gurelia was not without the instinct to fight back. However, it was the very hunters who pursued her who taught her all of this.

The War Demons, also known as Armored Demons, possess scales that form a living armor. Unlike the Abyss Demons, who enjoy duels, or the Sin Demons, who crave deception, the War Demons delight in hunting—the recreational act of killing their prey.

As a former member of the royal family, Gurelia was well aware of the vile nature of her kin. In fact, before Sarah Nightwish came to her, she had been intoxicated by it due to cognitive impairment.

Shortly after she fled, a black torrent tore the area she had passed through to shreds, and the cave trembled, teetering on the brink of collapse.

Blood-red eyes emitted an ominous light in the darkness, rising and falling in waves of terror, as the executioner awaited the blossoming of blood.

"Your Highness has become weaker... It doesn't matter, we will retrain her, and she will still be a qualified heir to the throne."

This is the Stone Monster District of the Wandering City, a winding cave system occupying the city's underground, a dungeon magnified by time-space magic.

The Stone Monster Zone is the outermost layer of the underground palace. As for the winding tunnels leading to the bottom, no one knows where they lead—an unknown space-time, a temple of gods, another world—rumors abound. Add to that the embellishments added by the various races of the Wandering City, and the underground palace becomes the greatest mystery of the Wandering City, even though from the outside it appears to be just a ring of soil carried by the Wandering City.

The unknown mystery is precisely what gives Gurelia hope of escape. Perhaps the things in the dungeon can frighten or even defeat those war envoys.

All I need to do is run faster, before they stop me...

“Grelia…”

That voice was like it had emerged from my nightmare, the nightmare that had haunted me for countless nights.

The black armor was covered with upward-pointing spikes, like a crown encasing him. Two streaks of blood flowed from the corners of his blood-red eyes, and within those eyes, which resembled his own, seemed a thousand trapped spirits wailed. Despite the emotionless words, Gurelia was overwhelmed by the awe emanating from them, collapsing to the ground like a wounded cub.

Blocking her path was the king of the demon race, the messenger of war.

Raylisette, the Warbringer. His own father, his own master.

The fear, utterly insurmountable and lingering in her mind, gripped her body. Tears streamed from Gurelia's eyes through her disheveled hair. Trembling, she buried her head in the filthy mud, a gesture of loyalty to her king.

With each step Relisette took, Guleria felt fear rush into his bloodstream, taking another step closer to his heart.

"Father... Father."

The hand that manipulated its own destiny seized Gurelia's demon horns and pulled her out of the mud.

A flicker of emotion appeared in those bloodthirsty eyes.

lost.

“You have become weak, Guleria. You gave in without even struggling or resisting.”

The devil's voice completely shattered her psychological defenses; her tears mingled with the mud on her cheeks, staining her face.

"I... I'm afraid of pain..." Guleria regretted it as soon as she finished speaking, but the man did not give her a chance to take it back.

“You have become so fragile, so fragile, that you disappoint me. Pain is something we need to forget. A true warrior of war grows stronger through pain. Come, Guleria, let me teach you again.”

As Gulelia pleaded desperately for mercy, Relisette gently embraced her waist and patted her trembling back.

Then, his claws sliced ​​through Gurelia's armor and burrowed into her flesh like a venomous snake.

Gurelia let out a painful howl, her fingernails scraping sparks against her father's armor, but leaving no marks to express her agony.

Click.

Reillysette pulled her hand out, along with a broken rib.

Screams and wails echoed through the cave. Gurelia rolled around in the mud like a shrimp.

Reillysette stood beside her, stroking the rib with flesh and blood still attached to it in his hand.