{Chapter: 35: Happiness for All, Even the Demon and His Maid??!}
"Yes, Your Highness!" several generals responded in unison, their voices filled with renewed vigor. Just hours ago, they had all believed they were going to die. Now, they stood victorious on scorched earth, untouched and intact, spared by a single ancient artifact that had rewritten the laws of engagement.
One elderly general—his face lined with decades of scars and campaigns—could no longer contain his pride. As James walked away, he laughed heartily and clapped the shoulder of the younger officer beside him.
"Ha! I told you! Didn't I say the royal family had some ancient trick up their sleeves? You all doubted me!"
"You said it was a dragon buried under the palace," one of the younger men replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Well... I was close!"
"Not really," someone else chuckled. "I thought it would be a hidden sect of assassins or a forgotten strongmen. But this... a relic from the high-magic era? Who would've guessed?!"
Another added excitedly, "Wait till the world hears. They'll start writing songs about today!"
"Actually, I think..."
Looking at his colleagues bragging crazily, Baron Duke, the only one who knew the truth, felt a little embarrassed.
He opened his mouth but in the end said nothing. He could only let them brag more and more, about the ancient dragon hidden in the capital and the super battleship buried on the coast...
It's really magical!
Hearing his comrades gleefully exaggerate stories about ancient dragons and submerged battleships beneath Marton's coasts, he could only sigh. They don't understand... and maybe it's better that way.
He, a noble of the Principality of Marton, felt a little embarrassed after hearing this…
---
The Next Morning — Capital City of Marton
News traveled fast. Too fast.
Even before the sun had fully risen, the city was already alive with celebration. Bells rang from the temple towers. Crimson banners were unfurled from every noble estate. The streets were packed from end to end with people—soldiers, bakers, farmers, wandering minstrels, and foreign merchants alike—all joining in the revelry of a decisive and legendary victory.
Wealthy merchants, normally tight-fisted and pragmatic, were throwing roasted meat and chilled wine into the crowd as if it were the solstice festival. Fine cheese, dates, tarts, and exotic fruits flooded the avenues. There was music on every corner. Children ran with toy swords and shouted names they barely understood. The war had ended—or so they believed—and for once, joy was free.
Even those who had shown little interest in politics or war days prior now danced in the square, swept up in the euphoria of triumph.
At the end of the day, whether you win or lose, it is nice to have free food and drinks!
---
Inside a quiet, ivy-covered manor near the outer edge of the noble district, Dex sat alone in his study, a steaming cup of black coffee by his side. He was immersed in a worn book filled with old myths—legends of ancient spirits, forbidden spells, and the rise and fall of empires long vanished.
He heard the noise from the streets. It was impossible not to. But he ignored it.
His housekeeper, entered the study and placed another cup gently beside him.
"Sir," she began with a smile, "the whole city is celebrating. There are fireworks, feasts, music, dancing... even the aristocracy is planning a massive banquet just outside the royal palace. Surely you'd like to enjoy the atmosphere? Just a short walk?"
Dex didn't look up from his book. He turned a page slowly, then replied with a soft shake of his head, "Not really! Their version of entertainment differs quite a bit from mine."
Shaking his head slightly, Dex rejected her proposal.
In his eyes, those things were not as useful as reading books.
The housekeeper chuckled knowingly. "Still as mysterious and aloof as ever," she said, folding her arms playfully.
Dex finally looked up, gazing at her with calm, reflective eyes. "Mysterious? Maybe. Though I've never tried to hide who I am. People simply never ask the right questions."
His words made her pause.
Then, with an uncharacteristic boldness, she stepped closer to him. Her hand, gentle and warm, reached up to brush his cheek, causing him to turn his eyes towards her instead of reading a book. She said softly,
"You say people don't ask the right questions... then let me ask one," she whispered. "What if I want to know more about you? Truly know you?"
Dex stared at her, his expression unreadable. "Know me?" he repeated, voice low.
She didn't back away. Her heart pounded like a war drum, but she held his gaze. His lack of rejection emboldened her. Slowly, nervously, she leaned forward, her face inching toward his. Her breath was sweet, her touch trembling with anticipation.
After hesitating for a while, her face slightly reddened, and she slowly leaned her head towards Dex's face.
People have always been drawn to appearances. It's simply human nature—men are often captivated by the allure of beauty, while women find themselves enchanted by strength and handsome features. No matter how much society pretends otherwise, this instinct runs deep and true.
From a purely visual standpoint, Dex's human form was something close to sculpted perfection. Though there were subtle differences that set him apart from ordinary men—an ethereal quality in his eyes, a stillness that came from power too vast to comprehend—his features were undeniably arresting. Angular yet refined, his expression always unreadable, yet fascinating. His presence made hearts quicken and silence follow in his wake.
Trina, the housekeeper, was close now—far closer than she had ever dared to be before. Her breath mingled with his as she tilted her head upward and pressed her lips gently against his. The kiss was light, testing, yet filled with emotion she had kept suppressed for far too long.
Dex didn't pull away, but neither did he return the gesture with passion. His eyes remained calm, reflecting a mind that was clearly elsewhere, calculating, weighing consequences, as though even affection had to be analyzed like a spell or formula.
After a moment of quiet stillness, Dex tilted his head slightly. Looking at the woman so close to him, feeling the touch of her soft lips, Dex's face remained calm. He tilted his head and thought for a while before suggesting "Trina," he said slowly, "you might come to regret this later. Acting on impulse… it has consequences." his tone thoughtful but not cold.
His words held no mockery, no rejection. They were a statement, not a warning. But Trina didn't seem to care. On the contrary, her lips curled into a soft smile—playful, but tinged with genuine warmth.
"Sir," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper, "that's the first time you've called me by my name. I honestly thought you didn't even remember it."
Dex's golden eyes flickered for a moment, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "My memory is sharper than most. I haven't forgotten. I simply found 'maid' to be... more efficient."
Trina let out a soft laugh, not at all offended. "You're really something, you know that? So detached. So unconcerned with how people around you feel. It's like you exist in a world that doesn't require emotions. You are so casual. You don't care about other people's thoughts at all…"
Without replying, Dex let her rest her head on his chest. She inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent that clung to him—light, floral, and strangely calming, as if he carried the essence of ancient forests or blooming night gardens wherever he walked.
His heartbeat was steady, powerful. Trina listened, as if each beat might reveal something secret—something that words never could.
Dex, meanwhile, spoke as though her closeness meant nothing more than a passing cloud. "I don't concern myself with the thoughts of people who don't matter."
"You're so selfish," Trina said with a laugh, her voice warm and teasing. "It's almost impressive."
Then, with a motion that surprised even her, Dex shifted his weight and gently pushed her down beneath him. His expression had changed—no longer entirely indifferent, though it remained composed. Now, there was curiosity in his eyes. Intention.
His face was inches from hers, the weight of his body pressing her lightly into the cushions of the couch. Their closeness turned the air electric, and yet his movements were not rushed. He studied her like a riddle or a rare artifact, as if trying to decide which part of her emotion was genuine and which part performative.
Caught under his gaze, Trina didn't shy away. She tilted her face to the side, a soft smile forming on her lips. "I thought you had no interest in things like this," she whispered. "You always look at the world like it's just numbers and patterns—like people are nothing but distractions. After all, you never seem to pay more than a glance at beautiful people of the opposite sex. Neither have you ever glanced at me more than a sceond, even after so many proactive lewd actions. I didn't expect you would actually take the initiative sometimes."
Dex didn't deny it. "I am interested," he replied, voice low and calm. "Deeply, in fact. But interest doesn't always justify action. There are priorities—things that require my attention more than fleeting pleasures. Still…"
He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers again—this time with more purpose.
"…once in a while," he continued, "I become curious enough to indulge. Just to see what it's like."
This time, the kiss deepened. It wasn't hungry or clumsy—it was calculated, confident, yet warm in a strange, quiet way. Dex explored her mouth with a gentle intensity, his hand brushing a lock of hair from her cheek.
When the kiss ended, Trina blinked up at him, her cheeks faintly flushed. "So… why now?" she asked, her voice softer than before. "What changed?"
Dex's answer came without hesitation. "I just felt like it," he said simply. "And I always follow through when something piques my interest."
Trina laughed again—light, joyful, breathless.
"You're unbelievable…"
"Maybe," Dex murmured as he leaned in again, this time with clear intention. "Let's test your theory a little further."
So he buried his head again; this time he wanted to do more…
*****
New workout alert! "Marvel: The Infinite Crown" - because who said books can't bench press?