Chapter 55: My Demon Lord Colleague
The Hero’s request was overbearing and lacked any politeness; hearing it made Misha want to hit him.
But the elves didn’t look angry at all. That Elf Priest actually hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He didn’t seem to intend to ask the Hero for any reasons; he just believed the Hero’s words directly and agreed to his conditions.
Misha was stunned.
Samuel and Arlo had explained for ages with zero effect—the Elf Priest hadn’t said a second word other than “Mm” from start to finish. Yet, with just a few extremely rude sentences from the Hero, the Elf Priest agreed immediately.
This… what was going on?
If he didn’t know the Hero well, Misha might have thought this was the personal charisma of the Savior.
But such a thing didn’t exist. At least Misha knew very well that the Hero didn’t have that kind of thing.
He only knew how to dig pits for others to fall into, and also…
He knew how to intimidate.
Misha fell silent for a moment, suddenly thinking… the elves didn’t think the Hero was threatening them, did they?
He was a little nervous, but checking the elves’ expressions, he saw nothing abnormal. The elves seemed to agree to Lance’s request as a matter of course. The Elf Priest even turned around directly, motioning for them to follow.
He walked through the sanctuary, leading everyone in the exact direction of the Tree of Life.
Samuel was confused and couldn’t help whispering to Lance, “Lord Lance, did we… explain it poorly just now?”
Lance answered him very seriously, “You guys talk too much nonsense.”
Samuel: “…”
Arlo: “…”
“After confirming identity, just state your purpose. They don’t care about the cause and effect,” Lance said. “From what I see, these elves are people who dislike listening to nonsense.”
Misha mumbled quietly.
Is it that they don’t like listening to nonsense?
It’s clearly that they don’t want to talk nonsense themselves.
The Tree of Life stood between the elven town and the abruptly rising ice plains. Behind the tree was a sheer cliff, and in front of it lay the elven town. Passing through the holy altar to the other end of the town revealed the entrance to the Holy Land: a gloomy, dark, dense forest. There was still some distance to the Tree of Life.
The Elf Priest led everyone to the edge of the town, then raised his head towards the gigantic Divine Tree towering into the clouds in the distance, slowly bowing in an elven gesture of respect.
Only then did he finally speak softly, saying, “Can’t all enter.”
Arlo understood the Priest’s meaning almost immediately. He hurriedly said, “Only the Hero, and Divine Envoy Misha who is under the curse.”
The Elf Priest nodded silently.
He reached out to touch the void in front of him, and the air immediately twisted into phantoms, separating his hand from the space of the forest.
It seemed there was a magical barrier protecting the safety of the Tree of Life. The Priest chanted a spell softly, temporarily lifting the magic for them, then turned to look at Lance, inviting Lance and Misha inside.
Lance couldn’t help asking, “This magic—is it a wall, or a dome?”
Everyone paused, seemingly confused why Lance would ask such a question.
After a long while, the Elf Priest spoke softly, “God King’s Wall of Eternity.”
“Just a wall?” Lance was disappointed. “Then if someone jumped down from the ice plain, wouldn’t they be able to touch the Tree of Life?”
Misha: “…”
Such a high ice plain!
Who would jump down from the ice plain!
They would fall to their death!
“This place of yours,” Lance grabbed Misha’s hand, pulling him across the magical barrier, while saying, “why is it full of security loopholes?”
Misha: “…”
Elf Priest: “…”
The Elf Priest looked thoughtful.
He watched the two figures heading deep into the dense forest, and after a moment, he actually nodded.
“Understood,” he said slowly. “Will improve.”
…
Misha walked in the dense forest, which was so dim that sunlight was barely visible, feeling slightly apprehensive.
The forest was too quiet. Not even a bird’s cry or an insect’s chirp could be heard. The time and space nearby seemed stagnant, and even breathing felt a bit labored. Coupled with the darkness, this feeling was far scarier than the small cabin on the farm. It carried an oppressive aura coming from nowhere, just like…
Misha inexplicably felt this aura was somewhat familiar.
He frowned, trying to recall, but Lance said airily beside him, “Rumor has it that near the Tree of Life, there seems to be a Gate to Another World.”
Misha: “…”
Misha stiffened and looked at Lance, who was walking slightly faster than him.
From his angle, he could only see Lance’s profile from behind. Judging solely from what he could see, Lance didn’t look guilty at all. He showed no sign of his relationship with the Gate to Another World. Even though Misha didn’t answer, Lance continued speaking out of curiosity, “I wonder where exactly this Gate to Another World is.”
Misha: “…”
Misha couldn’t help thinking, Lance came here from another world; perhaps… he misses home too.
Since there was a Gate to Another World, it seemed only natural that he would want to take a look.
It was just that… if the Hero left and returned to his own world, what would happen to this world?
The Divine Realm’s Hero System shouldn’t fail. The system would conduct a selection within this world to find a second person with the power of a Hero as quickly as possible…
Wait.
Misha’s heart sank, suddenly feeling that… he might have touched upon part of the truth.
Ashby said that people with strange methods similar to the Hero had appeared all over the world. These people seemed disguised; their only shared traits were being male and having a height similar to the Hero.
These people never avoided human towns, yet the Divine Realm’s system retained very little information on them. It wasn’t until three years ago that records of a Hero entering and leaving the Blessed Land appeared.
Misha originally thought this was normal, and that it was proof that the people Ashby mentioned weren’t Lance. But now, he felt something was very wrong.
That couldn’t serve as proof. Those people could very well be Lance.
It was just that at that time, the Hero was someone else, so the system didn’t record the current Hero’s movements. Only now, after Lance became the Hero, did traces related to him appear in the system.
This would also perfectly explain Lance’s almost exaggerated strength—an ordinary novice Hero couldn’t possibly have such ability. But in this world, the one who best fit the Hero selection criteria might be Lance alone.
Misha raised his eyes again to look at Lance walking in front of him.
Lance came from another world, but he wasn’t originally the Hero of this world.
The Hero of this world.
…Might be dead already.
Ideally, thunder exploded in his heart. Before his eyes, Lance turned his head and seemed to say something to him, but he heard nothing clearly. He felt as if a thick barrier separated him from the Hero, and a massive doubt lodged itself in his heart.
If his guess was correct and the original Hero died, then… what exactly did he die for?
Lance seemed to say something again.
Misha snapped back to reality, realizing Lance was talking to him. Everything was just his speculation; he couldn’t reveal these thoughts directly. He could only nod at Lance, pretending he was really listening.
“So I’ve always found it strange,” Lance whispered. “In this world, all races worship a single god.”
Misha: “…”
He had never thought about this question before.
But now that Lance mentioned it, thinking about it seriously… it seemed to be true.
There were so many races in the world, and so many branches within each race, yet all of them, even the monsters, seemed to believe in the same religion, revering the supreme God King who was never seen.
Misha was already very familiar with Lance’s disgust for the gods.
He didn’t even need to think to know what Lance was going to say next.
Misha could only sigh softly and say, “Lord Lance, please do not speak such blasphemy. The God King will hear.”
Lance whispered, “He won’t.”
Misha: “…”
Lance saw the slightly strange look on Misha’s face, paused slightly, and swallowed the rest of his words.
“Never mind. I know you’re worried about me,” Lance said with some resignation. “I won’t say it anymore.”
Misha nodded.
Whether Lance said those strange things or not, it wouldn’t affect him much anymore.
He pondered his guess repeatedly in his heart, yet didn’t know where to verify it.
In a trance, he heard Lance lower his voice, accompanied by an almost inaudible sigh, saying, “I also hope you can trust me a little more.”
Misha: “…”
The Demon Lord race had excellent hearing.
Perhaps Lance didn’t want him to hear, but he heard it.
Misha hesitated whether to ask further, but Lance raised his voice again, saying, “We’re here.”
Misha instinctively stopped and looked up ahead.
It was as if there was sudden light before his eyes.
The Tree of Life had lush branches and leaves, almost blocking out the entire sky. The radiance came from the tree itself. Like all holy things related to the gods, it emitted a very faint glow, but the intersecting branches reflected it so that the clearing around the tree was almost as bright as day.
Lance rubbed his chin and said, “Do I need to climb up?”
Misha: “…”
Lance turned back to look at Misha and said, “Forget it, I’ll climb.”
Misha: “…”
It was Misha’s first time seeing such a “miracle.”
In the Divine Realm, their buildings were mostly magnificent and tall, but they just looked luxurious. They never gave Misha the feeling of a “miracle.” The so-called Divine Towers in the human world were similar; they were just larger, making one feel the vastness of the world. It was a completely different feeling from the Tree of Life he saw today.
But thinking carefully, his current mood didn’t seem to be an emotional sigh over a “miracle.”
He seemed to be in awe.
What kind of soil, wind, and rain could nurture such shocking life?
This thought only lasted a moment in Misha’s mind.
He quickly associated it with the great God King, according to everything the gods preached.
The God King created the wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. The God King operated everything in the world.
It was the God King who could nurture such shocking life.
His awe was awe for the God King’s divine power, and nothing more.
…Probably, nothing more.
By the time Misha came back to his senses, Lance was gone.
He took off his hood and looked around, trying to find Lance. But everywhere he looked were the intertwined branches of the Tree of Life. Even though he tried his best to search, he saw nothing.
Misha had a faint ominous premonition. Thinking that the Gate to Another World was nearby, Lance… couldn’t have secretly run off to find the Gate, right?
No. Misha frowned and thought again. Lance didn’t have an Otherworld Stone. Even if he found the Gate, he couldn’t pass through it to other worlds.
The Hero shouldn’t leave. The Hero just said he hoped Misha would trust him a little more—
The next moment, Lance suddenly jumped down from a very high branch, landing right in front of Misha. He startled Misha, then looked up and smiled at him.
“Found it.” Lance held up the golden, shimmering branch and leaf in his hand. “Where is the potion Arlo prepared?”
Before entering the Elven Holy Land, Arlo had already mixed the other ingredients together in advance. Only the dewdrop from the Tree of Life was missing. This holy medicine bestowed by the Goddess would take effect immediately, and Misha should remove his messy illusion disguise and restore his original appearance.
Misha hurriedly cast aside his wild thoughts. He took the potion Arlo prepared out of his satchel, uncorked the bottle, and handed it to Lance. Lance held up the branch of the Tree of Life and carefully poured that single dewdrop into the transparent potion bottle.
Under the soft golden glow of the Tree of Life, the dewdrop slid into the bottle like a speck of golden light, instantly dyeing the entire bottle of potion into a glittering gold.
Lance spoke softly, “He had no intention of descending to the world, preferring to seek the True Light.”
Misha paused, looking up at Lance instinctively.
If he remembered correctly, this seemed to be a line with unclear meaning from a human church hymn.
He didn’t understand why Lance suddenly mentioned this sentence, but he quickly caught the few words he had heard from the Bishop.
True Light.
The Hero with two Divine Envoys would find the True Light for humanity.
But what exactly was that?
True Light? Could it be that the light they saw now was fake?
Lance had raised his hand again and patted Misha’s head.
Misha was already quite used to Lance’s sudden head-patting. He just tried to back away a little, whispering, “Lord Lance, please don’t do this.”
He already knew the Hero had feelings for him. He couldn’t condone this; he had to find a way to avoid the Hero’s advances.
But Lance’s hand touched the tips of his hair, then dropped slightly, brushing right past his cheek.
Misha stiffened in shock and was about to retreat further, but Lance whispered, “I still prefer the real you.”
Misha: “…”
This feeling was weird.
His heart seemed to beat a little faster, and inexplicably, he felt a slight touch of happiness from being praised.
Misha was a bit flustered and didn’t know how to respond, so he raised the potion, closed his eyes, thought of nothing, and glug, glug, glug drank the whole bottle clean.
“I finished it. I’m fine now,” Misha feigned calmness. “Let’s go back now.”
Misha restored his appearance to his human disguise.
He left the Elven Holy Land with Lance. Samuel was inexplicably disappointed, even mumbling, “Divine Envoy Misha, your dragon horns were really very cute.”
Misha: “…”
Misha was about to answer but noticed the Hero’s gaze lingering on him.
Misha couldn’t help glaring back.
Lance: “?”
Misha: “…”
No, this still felt wrong.
Misha grabbed Arlo’s arm, raised his voice, and deliberately said, “Arlo, about that curse, I have something to ask you.”
Arlo: “…”
He dragged Arlo to the side. Seeing no one followed, Misha felt a little more at ease, his emotions complicated and nervous.
Arlo couldn’t help asking, “What about the curse?”
“I discovered a big problem,” Misha said seriously. “That Hero…”
Arlo: “Hmm?”
Misha felt a bit guilty: “…Does he like me a little bit?”
Arlo: “…”
Arlo was shocked.
Arlo: “Misha? You just realized?!”
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