Shire

Knock, knock, knock~

A light knocking sounded at the door.

With a casual wave of his hand, the Far Sight Mirror floating in midair dispersed on its own.

"Come in."

A graceful figure carrying something pushed open the door and entered.

As an outstanding graduate of the Styx riverbank kindergarten.

A new-generation Demon who murdered and set fires, conducted biochemical experiments, and embodied the fine virtues of the Bottomless Abyss.

Orsaga had always deeply understood the principle of staying steady and not getting carried away!

Although his thoughts occasionally became involuntarily muddled due to his Demonic nature, he was generally rather rational and did not recklessly stir up trouble.

Still, he sometimes had his own troubles, and he was experiencing one right now.

Looking at the Housekeeper Trina, whose expression was somewhat constrained, Orsaga tilted his head and asked in confusion, "Why has your attitude changed so much? Is it because of my identity?"

After hesitating for a moment, Trina replied with some difficulty, "...It just feels a little awkward."

"I have never concealed my personality. You should know that I would not harm you. Compared with many humans, I, a Demon, should be a safer existence for you."

He extended a hand, intending to touch her cheek, but Trina swiftly dodged away as though pricked by a needle.

"I'm sorry..."

After dodging aside, Trina lowered her head slightly as she looked at Orsaga's hand hanging in midair.

"It's nothing."

Orsaga withdrew his hand and shrugged indifferently.

"I'll be leaving first..."

"Alright, go."

Watching her departing figure, Orsaga lightly lifted the clothing over his upper body. His sharp nails cut a long, narrow slit across his chest, exposing the heart within. He reached in and gently grasped the still-beating heart.

With a slight exertion of force, he removed it. Not a drop of blood spilled, and the wound healed itself at once.

Pinching his normally beating heart, Orsaga stroked his chin without changing expression and muttered in puzzlement, "Why would I, a pure-blooded Demon, develop the romantic feelings of an Ordinary Human man and woman?

Could it be the lingering influence of my Previous Life?

But those memories are merely scattered fragments. They should not be enough to affect me. Could it be because, before this life's soul was born, it had already come into contact with the memories of my Previous Life, making the influence so severe?"

He found the changes occurring within himself somewhat difficult to understand.

As a Demon in both body and soul.

He possessed none of the sympathy, familial affection, friendship, or notions of good and evil that humans had. Yet he had strangely developed some response to love, and he could not understand why.

Could it be because he was a mutant Demon?

Or perhaps he was simply too young, and the human memories of his Previous Life had taken root first and influenced him?

After thinking it over, he still found no answer. He casually stuffed the still-beating heart into his mouth and swallowed it, completing the reinstallation process.

Then he turned back to researching other things.

He knew perfectly well that human emotions might influence him to some extent, but at the end of the day, he was still a Demon. They could not make him change too much.

Perhaps it would not be bad to treat it as seasoning for life?

That was what he thought.

Watching Safi and the others leave with beaming faces, the minister responsible for planning urban construction cautiously asked Jem Woz, "Your Highness, are we really going to let them establish a church district in the Royal Capital?"

Jem Woz had suddenly summoned him from home and told him to allocate land for the Church to build a church district.

He truly could not make sense of that decision.

Two hundred years ago, when conflict between royal authority and divine authority flared up again, the royal family had spared no effort in driving the Church out of the Duchy of Maldon.

In the two hundred years since, although churches had occasionally been built in the Kingdom of Maldon, a few priests and nuns could only be considered minor disturbances. They could not amount to anything significant.

But if an entirely new church district were established in the Royal Capital, things would be different!

It would be like raising a banner. The scattered Church Factions in nearby cities and even nearby duchies would automatically gather around it as though they had found a backbone. That would be utterly detrimental to the royal family's rule and administration.

Jem slowly nodded and said quietly to the worried minister beside him, "This is necessary. The reasons are difficult to explain, but the Church becoming involved at this time will definitely be more beneficial to us. So there is no need for concern. Everything is within expectations."

Seeing the seriousness in Jem Woz's eyes, the minister knew there had to be many hidden details. After his expression shifted several times, he sighed softly. "Understood. I will certainly carry out my duties properly and will not burden your plans."

"Thank you for your trouble."

After the white-haired minister departed, Jem Woz's expression became somewhat complicated as well. The Duchy of Maldon had existed for more than a thousand years, so naturally it harbored all manner of tangled hidden dangers. Decaying networks of connections spread everywhere. Only core officials like this one, proven by time and absolutely loyal to the royal family, could occasionally be entrusted with some of the truth.

It has already been half a year since Father passed away. Once I stabilize these situations, it will be time to prepare for my coronation... Before taking over the kingdom, who could have known that it was already nearly rotten to the core? Branches of the royal family, noble houses with a thousand-year legacy, merchant families whose business spans every nation... Not one of them is willing to behave...

He knew very well that rotten flesh left growing on the body would become the source of disease. Even if it was temporarily cured, it could never last. Only by cutting it away could it be healed completely. Yet cutting flesh to cure disease was a technical task; one mishandling could worsen the wound and become the cause of death.

He had no choice but to treat it cautiously. But if an opportunity truly arose, he, who did not lack ruthlessness, would not mind taking a little risk...

Knock, knock...

Just then, the maid outside lightly knocked twice on the door.

"Your Highness, Lord Shire, whom you previously instructed us about, has come bearing a token."

"Shire? Oh, let him come directly."

This so-called Shire was Sorcerer Salte's new identity.

It had been specially prepared for him by Jem Woz, with virtually no flaws whatsoever.

Even the Church would never find anything suspicious about it.

It was also a way of repaying Salter for his previous favor.

If Salter had not yielded two slots to him before Orsaga, allowing him to preserve both his own life and Baron Duke's, Orsaga would have drained their blood and ground their bones to ashes on the very day he descended.

Jem had specifically sent people to clean up that abandoned prison the next day, worried that someone might discover the Summoning Ritual there and draw the Church's attention. But his subordinates reported that all that remained was a massive pit spanning several hundred meters. Every bit of matter had been thoroughly burned away by an unknown force. Even the earth had been scorched into a crystalline state, much less any corpses.

For that, he could only feel fortunate that Salter had saved his life, and their relationship had grown much closer afterward.

Not long afterward, a middle-aged man of around forty entered the room.

Sitting in his chair, Jem Woz pointed to the seat beside him and said with a smile, "Welcome, Salter. It has been quite some time since we last met."

The other man did not stand on ceremony and sat down directly. "It has indeed been a long time, Your Highness. But there was no helping it. As I told you, after using that spell, I had to recuperate for several days. Otherwise, my bones and skin would have problems."

Once he was seated, Jem Woz carefully studied Salter's current appearance. With a curious expression, he exclaimed, "What an astonishing spell. It can completely alter even a human's appearance. If your voice had changed too, I truly would not have dared recognize you!"

Salter smiled. "This is one of my trump cards. It is a spell I learned from an ancient secret tome. If it were not so demanding to use, and if I had possessed a suitable identity, the Church would never have been able to pursue me."

He no longer bore any resemblance to his former self. It was not merely his facial features that had changed; even his height had increased slightly.

Even if he stood before the clergy of the Inquisition, who specialized in pursuing wanted fugitives for the Church, likely no one would recognize him.

Jem Woz picked up two wine glasses from before him and filled them with fine wine. After handing one to Salter, he picked up the other himself.

"Your change is not merely external. I can sense that your personality and manner of conduct have changed considerably as well. You are completely different from when we first met. That sinister, venomous air is gone. It is as though you have shed your old skin and been reborn."

Accepting the glass and meeting the other man's curious gaze, Salter shook his head. "People always change, do they not? From now on, call me Shire. I prefer that name!"

Clink!

Their glasses touched, and the two exchanged smiles.

"Very well, Shire."

Jem took a small sip of Red Wine and savored its taste.

Gently swirling the glass as he watched the liquid flow within, Jem shrugged. "I am glad you like the name. I was the one who made it up back then. But if not for that person's influence, I think you would have remained Sorcerer Salte for your entire life, never becoming the 'Shire' you are now."

"Indeed. Perhaps only after experiencing fear and having one's arrogance destroyed can a human better understand themselves.

Although I did not show it before you back then, I was actually extremely arrogant. I looked down on the vast majority of people and always regarded them as insignificant insects that might as well not exist, until Orsaga appeared before me.

Simply sensing a fraction of his power plunged me into terror. Before his gaze, I could not even summon the thought of resisting. I did not dare use the spells I had always been so proud of. Only then did I understand that before a higher existence, I too was merely an insect, something that could be crushed to death with the slightest pressure..."

Jem Woz, who had merely wanted to hear some interesting gossip, perked up. Feeling that he might have heard something useful, he immediately asked, "...Can you sense the gap in strength between yourself and Orsaga?"

Shire gave Jem Woz a surprised glance. After thinking for a moment, he replied somewhat hesitantly, "I think it would be best if you gave up on dealing with Orsaga through force. When he had just descended, although there were some problems with the Summoning Ritual, I still inevitably formed a slight connection with him. That was why I could vaguely sense his power at the time. It is not something humans of this era can deal with. The gap between humans and him is like the gap between fierce beasts and ants—there is no real basis for comparison..."

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