Confrontation

Lorenz looked at the suddenly appearing Flamme and sensed the powerful and holy magical energy emanating from her, so different from that of Demons. He instantly understood her identity. His face remained expressionless, and upon hearing her request, he answered decisively without hesitation:

"Giving it to you is no problem," he said casually. "But you can't fly, can you? I'm flying to the village to find a monk to heal me. Or do you know how to heal?"

Flamme's azure eyes, like unfathomable lakes, calmly met his gaze. Her tone was indifferent yet carried an undeniable certainty. "Of course, I can still use some healing spells. I have the Holy Scripture with me."

As she spoke, her fingertips almost imperceptibly touched the seemingly simple Holy Scripture at her waist, but her eyes never left Lorenz, her vigilance as tangible as a physical presence.

Lorenz noticed her wariness but paid it no mind.

"Okay, then hurry up."

Before he finished speaking, his figure blurred slightly, and in the next instant, he appeared a hundred meters away, keeping a considerable distance from Flamme, Frieren, and the heavily injured Millialdai. He stood there casually, spreading his hands in a "please go ahead" gesture, with a lazy and cooperative expression on his face.

"Isn't that far enough?"

His overly decisive, even "sensible", action clearly took Flamme somewhat by surprise.

In her long life, she had accumulated knowledge that all Demons were cunning, cruel, and instinctively inclined to deceive.

Such a proactive concession, almost handing over the "hostage," was unheard of. A very subtle hint of surprise flashed across her calm face, but her deep-seated wariness did not dissipate.

Her figure appeared silently beside Millialdai as if by teleportation, gently kneeling on one knee and opening the Holy Scripture in her hands. Soft and vibrant pure white light flowed from between the pages, enveloping Millialdai's terrible wound on her abdomen and beginning emergency treatment.

However, even while performing such a precise operation, her azure eyes remained fixed on Lorenz, a hundred meters away, through the light, as if guarding against any possible unusual movement from him.

A melodious voice rang out, accompanied by the faint glow of healing magic, carrying a hint of barely perceptible inquiry. "How generous, Your Majesty, this former Demon King."

Her orange hair fluttered in the breeze. "I thought you were planning to take these two little elf girls home as some nice little snacks to keep on hand."

Lorenz scoffed, his tone carrying an air of self-righteous disdain. "I don't have that kind of hobby. Fighting is too much trouble; isn't peaceful coexistence better? I'm a peace-loving person."

"A peace-loving... Demon King?" Flamme repeated the seemingly absurd combination of words, her skepticism undisguised, as if she had heard a joke. "That's certainly... a novel idea."

"Yes," Lorenz nodded matter-of-factly, even pointing to Frieren, who had stood quietly to the side the entire time, her emerald eyes calmly observing everything. "Ask her if you don't believe me. I just helped out."

Flamme's gaze then turned to Frieren, with a questioning look in her eyes.

Frieren's gaze shifted from Millialdai's healing wound to meet Flamme's eyes. Her small face remained expressionless as she stated in her usual flat, even voice, "He saved Millialdai. He killed the general, who was also Demons." Her words were concise, merely a reiteration of the facts, devoid of any emotional bias.

Flamme nodded slightly, accepting the information, but the doubt in her eyes deepened rather than dissipated. She looked at Lorenz again, her question like a drawn sword, pointing straight to the heart of the matter. "What is the purpose?"

She paused, her eyes beneath her orange hair sharp as ice. "And why, in my long life, have I never heard of Demons —especially a high-ranking 'Demon King' —acting in such a... 'noble' way? My village was destroyed by Demons before. Former Demon King, how do you explain this?"

Lorenz, seemingly exasperated by her barrage of questions, scratched the back of his head, a look of exasperation on his face saying, "Why are you so serious?" He mumbled vaguely, "Uh... not all Demons are my subordinates. There are always some idle ones, just like your Human race has many countries, right? Can't you just say I... suddenly awakened to my virtuous love of peace? It's not strange to suddenly want to love peace or something..."

He seemed to find this argument somewhat untenable, so he waved his hand and adopted a more practical, even slightly lazy, tone. "Besides, what's the point of lying to you? I don't want anything from you. And..."

He sized Flamme up and down. Although Flame's magical power was unfathomable, his tone carried an unquestionable certainty based on the difference in strength. "To be honest, I don't think you can defeat me alone. In that case, why would I bother making up lies to amuse you?"

Flamme was silent for a moment. Although Lorenz's words were direct and almost rude, they hit the nail on the head. Given his demonstrated strength and status as a "former Demon King," if he truly harbored ill intentions, he wouldn't have needed to go to such lengths.

Her guarded aura lessened almost imperceptibly, but the question remained sharp, "Indeed. Judging from the magical fluctuations emanating from you, you are indeed Demon King. My chances of winning alone are indeed not high."

She readily acknowledged the slight difference in strength, then changed the subject, "So, this 'peace-loving' former Demon King, could you explain why you've 'coincidentally' appeared here? Are you suggesting that you were completely unaware when the current Demon King sent his army to slaughter the elven village, and only rushed here after hearing about it, specifically to save a few... elves who have nothing to do with you?"

This question hits the nail on the head, directly pointing out the most illogical aspect of the entire incident: why would a Demons Demon King save hostile elves?

Lorenz was momentarily speechless at the question. He opened his mouth, seemingly trying to find a reasonable explanation, but ultimately, he gave up trying.

"I... oh yes, that's it, so what, is it not allowed? Just think of me as... um, yes, I'm lusting after her body, so I have to save her, is that not allowed?" As he spoke, he deliberately gestured towards Frieren's direction.

This answer was so outrageous that even the usually composed Flamme froze for a moment, and a slight crack seemed to appear in her perfectly calm expression. Looking at Lorenz's shameless "I'm saying this, believe it or not" attitude, she was momentarily at a loss for words.

"... Is that so?" In the end, she only replied with these two words in a tone devoid of emotion.

Frieren merely glanced at the two of them indifferently, without saying a word.

An eerie atmosphere, a mixture of absurdity, wariness, and a faint sense of helplessness, filled the air. The wind of the wasteland swept by, blowing Flamme's long orange hair and Lorenz's black clothes.