Chapter 115: Conspiracy

The broken city walls were being patched up with bricks scavenged from the ruins hidden in the black mist.

Human craftsmen busied themselves perfecting the details; houses that once collapsed now rose anew, and at the very top, the barrier crystal hung suspended in midair—looking magnificent, yet serving no real purpose anymore.

At the makeshift city gate, teams of humans pushed carts loaded with construction materials back and forth through the black mist.

They could only venture out thanks to the protection of the Awakened Militia. Wheels rumbled over freshly laid tiles. Inside the courtyard, the experimental fields for grain were thriving, steadily developing, but now at the very last step after countless rounds of selection.

After all, only a handful of varieties remained. Maybe soon the final results would emerge. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before Demon King Castle could enjoy a self-sustaining life, no longer relying on food imports.

On the highest terrace, a silver-haired girl watched it all in silence. She was Emilia, the one directing everything. As she oversaw the grand reconstruction, her crimson eyes reflected the gradually reviving Demon King Castle.

The restoration of its former glory was within reach. Her gaze narrowed as she studied the scars left behind by that monumental battle.

It truly was a troublesome mess, but she couldn’t bring herself to bother Sieg. She knew well that her first thought was to call for her slumbering beloved. It wasn’t just ultimate trust—he really was far too reliable, useful in every sense, whether night or day.

But such thinking simply wouldn’t do. No, it just couldn’t. She mustn’t rely too much on Sieg. That was her belief, a promise she made to herself before. Besides, she had her own private motives. She wanted to show him her growth and effort… After all, love wasn’t just about one-sided giving, but about mutual dependence and moving forward together.

She found herself quietly sitting by the window, memories of unpleasant things surfacing—topics she dared not examine too closely, yet couldn’t help but probe. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the rim of her teacup, then she gently set it down.

Her gaze drifted over Demon King Castle below, unfocused. The tea had long since gone cold, but she didn’t notice, occasionally biting her lip only to force herself to let go.

Her lashes fell as she recalled the faint scent of another woman on her lover. It was subtle, yet it lingered. If it had been from an accidental brush before, it should have faded by now… This meant the two had met again recently… She tried her best to feign indifference.

She sipped the now-cold black tea—its chill matched her wretched mood.

“I must… be overthinking things.”

She muttered softly, unable even to convince herself. Once, twice could be written off as accidents, but now… A trace of unease flickered in her crimson eyes, finally dissolving into an almost inaudible sigh.

Maybe she really was thinking too much. Sieg wasn’t that kind of person. Yes, he wasn’t. She should have more faith in him, stop being so suspicious, so as not to ruin the hard-won reconciliation between them. She shouldn’t dwell on it.

She set aside her unnecessary thoughts, got up, and dove back into her busy work, temporarily pushing these matters to the back of her mind. She knew some inside information, but just didn’t want to believe it.

The more such twisted emotions piled up, the worse it got—especially with her own strong possessiveness. If things went on, she might explode and do something out of line.

But for now, all was well—at least, that’s how Sieg saw it. He was happier than ever, with nothing else on his mind. Overthinking only led to mental exhaustion, even to the point where his left brain attacked his right.

That’s what happened before—overthinking, distancing himself… being used… In the end, it all turned into a mess.

Now, the only thing on his mind was Emilia, only her. Other women didn’t even catch his eye. His taste had become truly discerning.

Even in his sleep, he muttered her name.

“Emilia, Emilia, Emilia.”

At the same moment, sharing the same frequency, was Gerald in the Empire. She had just finished her daily training as the Saintess and was now sprawled on the sofa in her bedroom.

Her long legs lay open without a care for the dignified posture demanded during training. Silver hair lay in a mess across the cushion, a few strands clinging to her lips, but she couldn’t be bothered to brush them away—just let them be.

Her slender arm hung off the side, fingertips knocking over an empty wine bottle, sending it rolling away. Clearly, she’d drunk a lot to vent her frustration and dissatisfaction. Her collar was crooked, baring one shoulder, and her skirt was wrinkled all the way up her thigh.

“They’re all sick in the head, those nuns! Ugh, just because I look like Emilia, they’re taking it out on me, aren’t they? I can’t stand it! Why do I have to put up with this suffering and humiliation? I’m a man! Any man would lose it being forced to flirt and dance around like that!”

She suddenly snorted at the familiar ceiling, then curled her knees to her chest and buried her stunning face between them. Her delicate hands clenched tightly. Unconsciously, she recalled her mental pillar, as if drawing a faint strength from it.

That was the most primal human desire, the very thing that had kept Gerald moving forward all the way to today. Her lips murmured softly, her eyes growing damp and blue.

“Emilia, Emilia, Emilia.”

The gods seized this opportunity to offer some advice. They seemed to have ulterior motives, but were indeed both reliable and effective, in every sense.

[So we’re telling you to be bolder, get closer to Sieg. Don’t worry about pride, manliness—physical contact is how you absorb more power. Isn’t that all you need? The more you absorb, the sooner you’ll return to your peak. Besides, this body of yours was specially made by us. All its stats are maxed out, able to draw out the power of the Hero to the fullest. It’s far stronger than your old body, more than enough to deal with Hakimi the Demon King. Welcoming Emilia back will be a breeze, right? Easy as pie!]

“I know, I know already! You don’t need to remind me! Tsk, you lot really know how to talk big when you’re not the ones doing it. Ugh, such a pain.”

She was clearly well aware of all this. She flopped back on the sofa, clicking her tongue in annoyance, even mocking them—a clear sign of her lack of respect for the gods.

In truth, she was seriously considering it. After all, some things were urgent… Like the way Aulay was acting more and more off with her, his behavior growing increasingly brazen.

His hands were starting to wander… She didn’t dare imagine what might come next. He looked at her the way she once looked at Emilia—full of desire, as if he could see Emilia through her.

He might say one thing, but his hands did something else entirely. If she kept sitting around waiting, that guy would almost certainly try something. What a disgusting creep.

She frowned. Just thinking about that man made her feel sick, to the point she was about to vomit.