Chapter 59: The Scapegoat King of Monsters
Misha turned his head, frowning as he looked at Lance with suspicion.
He felt that Lance’s tone was… very off.
It sounded like Lance was up to no good again, having dug a pit somewhere and now waiting for his victim to jump in.
This made Misha uncontrollably think that the bed breaking so suddenly must have something to do with the Hero.
Fixing his gaze on Lance, Misha bent down and carefully examined the broken leg of the bed and the bed board that had snapped into several pieces.
There didn’t seem to be any traces of deliberate sabotage. At least, Misha couldn’t see anything unusual; the leg looked like it had snapped naturally. But Lance’s suspicious tone kept Misha’s eyes darting back and forth between Lance and the bed leg.
No, he still felt there was a problem.
Misha stood up, turned around, and walked straight toward the door.
Curious, Lance asked, “Where are you going?”
Misha ignored him.
Just as Misha reached the door, he ran into Samuel, who was rushing over nervously. The sound of the bed collapsing had been so loud that he thought another accident had occurred.
But when Samuel glanced into the room, he was slightly stunned and couldn’t help asking, “What… happened here?”
Lance, still smiling, said, “Perhaps that is a question for the gods.”
Misha: “…”
See! This definitely looked suspicious!
Misha hurried off to find the Elf Priest, hoping the Priest could change the bed for them.
He had thought about it. The elves were poor, so the loss of this bed must be significant to them. But Misha could pay. As the final boss and Great Demon Lord of this world, he had a considerable fortune. He was willing to compensate for the bed he broke and then ask the elves to switch him to a better room.
Sharing a room with the Hero was fine, as long as there were two separate beds!
Misha felt his request wasn’t difficult, yet the Elf Priest still rejected him.
Not only that, but the Elf Priest looked heartbroken.
He was a man of few words. He pushed back the gold coins Misha tried to hand him for compensation, held his breath for a long time, and finally squeezed out just three words: “Only have four.”
Misha: “…”
Wait, only four?
What did that mean? Did the entire elven town only have four beds in total?!
Misha’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t believe the elves’ poverty had reached such a level.
He felt even more guilty. There were only four beds in total, and he had collapsed one of them. He swallowed nervously and asked carefully, “Then where do you usually… sleep?”
The Elf Priest looked at the ground.
Misha: “…”
Misha was determined to shove the gold coins for the bed into the Elf Priest’s arms.
He felt too guilty.
The elves actually slept directly on the ground!
The Priest had given them the only four beds, and Misha had actually broken one of them!
But the Elf Priest was panicked.
He tried his best to dodge Misha, resolutely refusing to accept the money. When he looked at Misha, there even seemed to be a trace of terror in his eyes, as if he were extremely afraid of Misha’s enthusiasm. He looked like he couldn’t wait to flee.
Misha: “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”
Elf Priest: “Don’t…”
Misha: “Please, you must accept my compensation.”
Elf Priest: “Don’t… don’t come…”
Misha: “Huh? What?”
The Elf Priest was terrified and uneasy: “Don’t come over!”
Misha: “…”
Misha froze, unsure where the Priest’s panic was coming from.
He stood stiffly in place, wanting to ask more, but Lance’s voice came from behind, speaking softly, “He’s shy with strangers.”
Startled, Misha almost jumped forward a few steps, looking back at Lance in panic.
The Elf Priest was also startled by him and retreated several steps in fear.
Misha whispered, “You… why did you come over?”
Lance: “Because you looked like you were about to do something strange.”
Misha: “…”
Lance: “Luckily, I arrived in time.”
Misha: “…”
No, he still wished Lance hadn’t come.
“Most of these elves seem to be shy with strangers,” Lance said. “Although I like your enthusiasm, for them, you are a bit too enthusiastic.”
Misha: “…”
He only focused on the first half of that sentence.
The Hero said… he liked his enthusiasm.
Misha’s face turned slightly red. He looked around, carefully placed the gold coins in his hand on a table, and backed away a few steps before saying to the Elf Priest, “This is my compensation.”
The Elf Priest still shook his head.
He reached out and pointed behind the door. Misha followed the Priest’s gaze and realized there was a pile of common tools behind the door—hammers, nails, everything one might need. The Elf Priest seemed to be telling him that he could use these things to fix the wooden bed.
But Misha… didn’t know how to fix such things at all.
He didn’t want to expose too much of his magic in front of the Hero, so he couldn’t use magic to fix the bed. That left only one option.
Misha turned his head, looked at Lance, and asked, “You…”
Lance spoke with righteous solemnity: “I don’t know how.”
Misha didn’t believe it.
How could Lance not know?
When he first met Lance, who was the person climbing the roof with a hammer to fix it?!
Misha felt that this was, indeed, the Hero’s scheme.
He couldn’t fix the bed by normal means, and Lance kept standing there staring at him, making him afraid to use his magic. When he wanted to ask Arlo for help, Arlo said he hadn’t learned any repair magic.
By the time it was completely dark, Misha didn’t dare continue messing with his hammer and nails.
After all, the elves had to go out on patrol tomorrow, and the sound of fixing the bed was too noisy. Misha felt he shouldn’t disturb the elves’ rest, so he could only put away the hammer and look at the last remaining bed in the room.
Misha was nervous.
He was a Demon Lord; he didn’t need sleep.
But the Hero didn’t know he didn’t need sleep. It was late, the time when normal humans should sleep.
“I…” Misha tried to hide his panic. “I’m sleepy! Let’s sleep!”
He thought, although he knew the Hero liked him, Lance was generally a decent person. He probably… probably wouldn’t do anything too outrageous.
Besides, he was the Demon Lord!
If the Hero really dared to try anything, he would immediately reveal his true identity and beat the Hero up severely.
Thinking of this, Misha felt a little more assured.
He climbed onto the bed first to avoid any awkwardness. Fortunately, this bed in the corner seemed larger; even with two people sleeping on it, it didn’t seem too crowded.
Misha nervously faced the wall, leaving his back to Lance, trying hard to pretend he was already asleep.
He thought, there is no way I’m sleeping tonight.
Lance hesitated for a moment.
“Misha, do you…” He paused slightly and asked, “Do you always sleep like this?”
Misha: “…Mm.”
Misha didn’t think there was anything wrong with himself.
Lance coughed lightly and asked, “Sleeping in your outer clothes?”
Misha: “…”
Lance: “You…”
Misha: “Yes! I always sleep in my outer clothes!”
Lance: “…”
Lance stopped talking.
After a while, Misha heard rustling sounds and the noise of metal objects clicking against the wooden table.
He finally couldn’t resist glancing back carefully, only to see Lance unfastening parts of his chainmail and placing them gently on the table.
Lance didn’t look his way, but he seemed to have noticed Misha’s gaze, speaking softly, “I’m used to taking off my outer clothes to sleep.”
Misha: “…”
Misha couldn’t control his nervousness as he stared at Lance.
He watched Lance take off the lightweight chainmail and unfasten the padded arming doublet underneath. Only when Lance was down to his innermost shirt did he stop, put his things aside, and say, “That’s enough for now.”
Misha: “…”
If not enough, what else were you planning?!
Did he want to take off more?!
Misha wrapped the quilt tighter around himself. Just as he was about to turn his back, he saw Lance raise his hand and undo the top buttons of his shirt.
Misha: “…”
He’s not really going to strip more, is he!
But Lance only undid a few buttons at the collar, then stood up and walked toward the door.
Misha: “You—”
Lance: “Washing up.”
Misha: “Oh…”
Lance looked at Misha and said, “You need to wash up too.”
Misha: “…”
Misha scrambled up sheepishly, washed up quickly, and dove back under the covers before Lance returned. He squeezed his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.
He could feel Lance climbing onto the bed shortly after. The Hero’s presence was so close that Misha couldn’t suppress his nervousness. After an unknown amount of time passed, he suddenly heard Lance speak to him softly.
“I think, it won’t be long,” Lance said, “before you understand.”
Misha: “…”
Misha didn’t understand what Lance meant.
Misha opened his eyes, facing the slightly moldy and mottled wall of the wooden cabin. The Hero seemed to have lain down; he was silent and spoke no more. Misha had no choice but to close his eyes again, pretending he was asleep.
But Misha hadn’t expected to actually fall asleep.
As a Demon Lord, he didn’t need sleep. He didn’t know what was going on, only vaguely feeling that he was slightly different today compared to usual. It was very likely due to Arlo’s potion.
It was a potion for rapid wound recovery, so having some hypnotic effect seemed normal.
However, using a hypnotic medicine on Misha would only have a greatly reduced effect. He woke up in a daze several times during the night. A few times, he unintentionally turned over and saw the Hero sleeping beside him. He even had some vague, strange thoughts in his mind, feeling that Lance’s sleeping posture was too disciplined, a bit mismatched for a Hero who rivaled a Demon Lord in chaos.
Then, he was startled awake by panicked shouting outside the door.
Misha jumped, and the Hero alertly grabbed the sword leaning against the head of the bed. Looking out the window, they saw many torches lit in the town, illuminating their room brightly. Misha didn’t know what had happened, but Samuel was already hurriedly knocking on their door.
They had to get up. As soon as Lance opened the door, they heard Samuel’s panic-stricken voice.
“It’s bad, something happened,” Samuel said nervously. “It must be that Demon Lord again!”
Misha: “?”
No, this time it really wasn’t him.
Lance frowned and asked, “What happened?”
Arlo looked solemn.
He patted Samuel’s shoulder gently, telling him not to be so nervous, then looked at Lance and Misha. “Inside the Elven Holy Land, there is a Gate to Another World that connects to the Divine Realm and other worlds.”
Misha froze, then nodded.
“The Gate to Another World has been shattered.” Arlo turned his gaze to Misha and said softly, “The elves think it might be the work of monsters.”
Misha: “…”
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