Kael was lost for words.
Seriously?
Of all the damn scrolls in his collection… he had to give her that one?
What kind of divine joke was this?
He stared at Selene's face, and guilt hit him like a boulder.
She wasn't angry.
She was hurt.
Wounded in that quiet, soul-deep way only someone who truly trusted you could be.
He sighed.
Then said it.
Soft. Heavy. Honest.
"Selene… I'm sorry.
I'm the Devil."
Her eyes widened—like the breath had been knocked from her lungs.
But Kael didn't stop.
"I should've told you.
I lied to you… and I'm sorry for that."
Silence.
The kind that echoes in your ribs.
Then he looked her in the eyes—truly looked—and said, steady and clear:
"But my feelings for you… they're real, Selene.
All of them.
I didn't fake a single thing.
I love you."
It wasn't grand.
It wasn't dramatic.
Just true.
And for the first time, Selene couldn't spot a single lie in his gaze.
Not one flicker of falsehood.
Her lips trembled.
Then, to Kael's shock—she smiled.
No shouting. No slaps. No throwing things.
She simply stepped forward and pulled him into a hug so tight, so raw, it knocked the air from his lungs.
And then—she kissed him.
When they finally parted, she whispered,
"I believe in you, Kael."
Kael's brain short-circuited.
"Wait—you're not shocked I'm the Devil?"
Selene gave him a playful look, wiping the corner of her eye.
"I had my suspicions.
You're not exactly subtle.
But hearing it from you? Still a little surprising."
He laughed.
She laughed with him.
They held each other, laughing like idiots in love, too tired of pretending to care anymore.
Outside the door—
Yue stood like a statue, arms crossed, cheeks faintly glowing.
She nodded sagely.
"…Our boy's getting bolder," she muttered, clearly proud.
Then caught herself.
"Wait—what?
No. I wasn't eavesdropping.
Who's eavesdropping? Not me."
She turned, flustered.
"Ugh—what the hell is wrong with me…"
And with that, she phased through the nearest wall, vanishing into the night with crimson cheeks and a head full of secondhand romance.
###
Some days passed.
Peacefully.
Suspiciously peacefully.
No comet fell on Kael's head.
No Rank 9 beast manifested in his bathtub demanding rent.
Not even a single near-death accident involving cursed artifacts or exploding teacups.
It was, quite honestly, unsettling.
So uneventful, in fact, that even the author took a break—choosing not to narrate Kael's daily life for once because, frankly, it was just that boring.
But Kael? Kael was thriving.
After his duel with the Divine General, something had shifted.
His body—hardened by fire, blood, and high-stakes bullshittery—was finally ready to handle Rank 2 spells.
So he began.
And it was hell.
Unlike Rank 1 spells, which could be brute-forced with sheer willpower and questionable pronunciation, Rank 2 required actual talent, focus, and a worrying amount of memorization.
Even with Kael's talent, it took time.
But once he cracked the first one, the others came faster—like breaking the first tooth in a row of brittle bones.
After days of pacing, muttering incantations like a cultist on espresso, Kael had finally learned three:
Arcanum Vortex
Mana Shield
Hollowrush
Now, he sat alone on a bench in the garden.
Sunlight poured over him.
Birds chirped.
It should've been serene.
It was not.
Because Kael was gently polishing a smooth black egg—muttering to it.
Cackling softly.
"My golden finger… my precious little plot device…"
He kissed it.
He kissed it again.
He began whispering sweet nothings to it like a honeymooning villain.
Behind a nearby bush, two very serious spies watched the scene unfold with the gravity of a royal assassination plot.
Lira narrowed her eyes.
Riven silently flipped open their shared field journal—a thick leather-bound monstrosity titled:
"Ongoing Surveillance Report on Sir Kaelion Drenlor"
With the efficiency of a seasoned scribe, he jotted today's entry:
—Date: [REDACTED]
—Time: Unholy hour of the morning
—Subject Status: Stable (questionable)
—Observed polishing a rock (again).
—Rock kissed. Twice.
—Muttered cryptic phrases regarding "golden fingers."
—Tone: Worshipful. Possibly romantic.
—Conclusion: Rock is either magical… or a sentient lover.
—Pending further analysis.
Lira leaned over, flipping back a few pages.
"Day before yesterday," she read aloud.
"Spotted talking to himself for fifteen minutes.
Argued with air. Lost the argument."
Another entry:
—Snuck into cellar. Attempted to teach a crow how to hold a dagger.
—Crow fled.
Another:
—Stared at mirror for one full hour. Whispered, "Who's the Devil? You are."
—Concerning. Confirmed again at 2 a.m.
Lira closed the journal.
Sat back in the bush.
Looked toward Kael—who had now placed the egg atop his head and was chanting softly like a monk about to ascend.
She turned to Riven, expression dead serious.
"I fear Sir Kael is truly possessed..."
Riven didn't argue.
He simply turned to the next page.
And prepared the next report.
Soon, Selene arrived.
The moment she stepped into view, both Lira and Riven—stationed behind the hedge like budget assassins—immediately ducked.
Not because they were spying.
No, they were hiding.
From her.
The woman who clung to Kael like a shadow.
The one who never left his side.
The one who looked like she could murder a noble and sip tea in the same breath.
Selene.
She moved with quiet confidence, a silver tea tray in her hands.
Without a word, she placed it beside Kael on the garden bench.
Kael, meanwhile, had just tied a black stone around his neck—ominous, faintly pulsing, possibly cursed.
He adjusted it like a family heirloom.
Selene didn't comment.
She didn't need to.
This was just another Thursday.
She slipped onto his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
(It was.)
In the days since their bond deepened, Selene had become… territorial.
And Kael? Surprisingly comfortable being claimed.
She picked up the teacup, took a sip, then casually nodded toward the bush.
"Lira and Riven think you're possessed.
They actually asked if I could take you to a church.
Maybe get you sprinkled with holy water or something."
Kael blinked.
"What the hell?"
Then he laughed—loud, sharp, and utterly unbothered.
He turned his gaze to the bushes where two very poorly hidden spies were trembling like squirrels in a thunderstorm.
"They look pretty comfortable now, don't they?" he said, nudging Selene with a smirk.
Selene smiled.
"Much better. When you brought them here, they looked ready to jump out a window."
Kael stretched out on the bench, letting out a content sigh.
Then, with a thought as casual as breathing, he summoned the system panel in his mind.
###
[Conqueror's System]
[Name: Kaelion Drenlor.]
[Rank: 2]
[Title: Certified Treacherous Bastard, Veiled Serpent Member]
[Race: Human]
[Affiliation: House Drenlor (Kingdom of Velmora)]
[Rank: Noble – 3rd Son of the Duke (Duchy of Velmora)]
[Talents : Horse Riding: (D), Swimming: (E), Swordsmanship: (C) Mana Control: (SSS)]
[Spells:—
(Rank-1)
Moon Blade , Amplification
(Rank-2)
Arcanum Vortex, Mana Dome, Hollowrush]
[Relics: Dreamweaver(Soul-Bound ), Nortic Mask (Rank 8)]
[Familiar Spirit: Yue]
[Familiar Beast: ####]
[Primary Objective: Claim the Duchy !!
Reward: Rank 4 Spell – 'Crimson Veil']
[Curse: Godbreaker's Mark]
###