"I hate those cold, slimy little companions of yours." The female demon glanced at him, a charming smile curling across her lips, though her voice remained cold. "And everything ugly."
The female demon who had suddenly appeared on the deck had black hair and blood-red eyes. Tall and slender, she was wrapped from head to toe in a loose black robe, with only a glimpse of scarlet lips and a stretch of snow-white neck visible beneath the hood.
She seemed to be carrying something on her back, which propped up the robe behind her and made the golden emblem upon it exceptionally conspicuous.
The emblem's main body was a golden I-shaped symbol, with two exquisite skulls set within the indented spaces on either side. Any demon with even a little standing would recognize it.
This was the mark of the Lich King.
Only inheritors of the Lich King's Direct Lineage could use such a mark.
In the eyes of wizards, all demons were the same.
Blood-red eyes, dark hearts.
Just as, in the eyes of demons, all wizards were the same—flesh that gave off a delicious scent, souls that contained precious essence.
But divisions were everywhere.
Within the Wizard Alliance, the Wizard Council and the Under the Moon Council were practically strangers to one another.
In the world of demons, the territories controlled by the various Demon Kings were equally distinct.
The Black Ship belonged to the Sea Demon King.
And the female demon who had just boarded belonged to the Lich King.
Harry, who had been sunbathing and sleeping in a deck chair, had long since rolled off into the cabin. "Miss Dodo" had vanished from his hand at some point, replaced by a bouquet of vivid, dew-fresh roses.
"How may I be of service, charming lady?" He knelt on one knee before Nikita, wearing a proper smile, his scarlet eyes as brilliant as rubies.
If only he had wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth, he would have been perfect.
"Put on your robe before speaking to me!" The female demon lifted her chin arrogantly, her tone brimming with disdain.
To a lich, a robe was the most basic sign of respect.
Neither that pink polo shirt nor those white-and-green beach shorts could possibly make the female demon feel Harry's sincerity.
"That expression is simply too adorable!" Harry clenched the roses in his hand and slowly tightened his grip. Streams of dark green and purple-red juice seeped through his fingers. Desire shone in his scarlet eyes, like a mad artist discovering a peerless treasure. "So adorable I want to eat you!"
Nikita paid no attention to Harry's mad ravings. With light steps, she walked around the lovestruck fool kneeling before her and headed straight into the cabin.
"Well, little fairy. Before teaching others about respect, how about learning some manners yourself?" The Blond Youth had appeared at the cabin entrance without anyone noticing. A cigarette hung unlit from his lips as he looked down at her through half-lidded eyes.
For some reason, a breeze blew in from the sea, making the female demon's robe flutter loudly and tightly outlining her graceful figure.
The thing on her back also became more clearly defined.
It seemed to be a child.
The Blond Youth narrowed his eyes.
A lich carrying a child and asking to see the captain—such a thing was far too unusual among demons. After all, to demons, the only benefit of young creatures was their tender flesh and smooth texture.
He licked the corner of his mouth.
The hem of the female demon's robe shifted slightly, revealing a dark-red spellbook with a casing wrapped in golden threads.
"I'm in a hurry." The female demon raised her head, revealing a pair of enchanting eyes. Her dark-red pupils glimmered dangerously beneath the brilliant sunlight.
The Blond Youth crushed the cigarette between his teeth and slowly chewed the golden tobacco.
He did not answer. His breathing merely grew longer and deeper.
On the main mast, the burly man hanging in a crucified pose moved his head slightly, as though showing a trace of life.
"We have plenty of time, beauty!" Behind her, Harry's slick voice rang out once more. "Besides, that little one on your back smells even better than you do."
The voice was close, as if right beside her ear.
The female demon did not turn around.
She heard a long inhalation circling behind her neck, unbroken and endless, as though it would never stop.
A cold, sinister aura spread forward with that inhalation from behind her, ready to swallow her whole at any moment.
The elder liches had always said that the Sea Demon King's subordinates were a mob that had only just cast off their animal nature—bloodthirsty and devoid of reason.
Now, Nikita felt that assessment was incomplete.
She thought another point needed to be added: these rabble were also crude brutes, with not the slightest tolerance or patience for ladies.
She knew that unless she revealed something, she would have a hard time entering the cabin so close before her.
The little figure on her back curled up tighter.
She hesitated no longer.
"She came from Black Prison." Nikita reached back to stroke the child and softly spoke those words.
"Cough, cough, cough." The Blond Youth seemed to have choked on the tobacco he was chewing. One hand pressed to his chest, he bent over and coughed violently, utterly unconcerned that his waist and abdomen were exposed to the female demon's enchanting gaze.
Thud! The muscular man hanging from the mast broke free of the ropes binding him and crashed heavily onto the deck. The Black Ship rocked violently several times, sending ripples across the calm sea.
The cold aura behind her vanished without a trace. Nikita could even clearly sense Harry holding his breath, his face flushed red as he cautiously pulled away from her.
A satisfied smile appeared on her lips.
A female demon always knew when to leave everyone astounded.
"Come in." A gentle voice, though somewhat nasal, drifted out from the cabin.
Pushing past the Blond Youth, who was bent over and coughing frantically in front of her, Nikita lowered herself and slipped into the pitch-black cabin.
In the sky, the large bird that had circled for so long let out a sharp cry and suddenly beat its wings away.
"It was her?" The burly man rubbed his bald head and asked in a hoarse voice.
The Blond Youth was still coughing.
Harry narrowed his eyes and watched the great bird fly away until it became a black dot and disappeared into the azure backdrop.
He knew the burly man was referring to Nikita.
He also understood what the man meant: whether the great bird that had watched the Black Ship for three days had been searching for Nikita.
That great bird was the wizards' eye.
Only when an eye saw what it wanted to see would it shift its gaze elsewhere.
"For that sort of thing, you can only ask the captain." Harry pulled out his "Miss Dodo," fanned himself with it, flashed the burly man a grin, and answered in a slippery tone.
Following the downward-slanting stairs into the cabin, Nikita felt somewhat lost.
Like the ship's exterior, the cabin was pitch-black. The space also looked narrow and cramped, as though it could barely hold anything at all.
It was rather far from the spacious, luxurious hall she had imagined.
Whether during her years as a wizard or in these days since she had fallen into demonhood, she had rarely seen such a cramped space. Wizards and demons with even slightly outstanding abilities always had all kinds of methods to expand space and create a comfortable environment for themselves.
She blinked and quickly adjusted to the dim light within the cabin.
Not far ahead of the stairway stood a thick wooden pillar. Judging from its position, it was probably the Black Ship's main mast. A few wooden crates were casually piled beneath it. In a corner by the wall lay a barrel bound with iron hoops, its lid open and its insides empty.
The female demon's slender brows drew together.
She felt the child on her back trembling.
She reached out and gave the child a reassuring pat.
"The ship is a little old. Make do with it." The gentle voice came from the lower left. Only then did Nikita discover in surprise that there was a small patch of light at the bottom of the dark ship.
Directly above the light was a mesh of iron bars. Brilliant sunlight slipped through the gaps between the steel rods into the black cabin, leaving behind a patch of mottled color and making the shadow against the left wall seem even darker.
That gentle voice came from precisely that darkness.