He suddenly opened his eyes.
It felt like he had to.
As he struggled to lift his heavy eyelids, the pitch-black night sky revealed itself.
Countless stars seemed ready to pour down, the night air crisp and cool.
And the moon, its colour mirroring Argen’s hair.
The moon of the human realm.
Valen stared blankly at the sky.
The moon he had longed to see one last time before departing for the demon realm lay spread out before his eyes, as if by magic.
There had been times he thought he might never see it again.
Yet now it hung there, radiating a soft glow with a noble grace.
Was this a dream?
Had he ever dreamed such a beautiful dream in his life?
Before long, Valen felt warmth clinging to his body.
It wasn’t a dream.
It was reality.
The moment he realised this, memories flooded back like a tidal wave—opening Argen’s wardrobe.
The splitting headache and even Argen’s voice, which had been faint and intermittent, came back crystal clear.
Argen.
Valen turned his head hurriedly toward the source of the warmth.
It was her.
She had woken him…
“…No.38?
Yaaah!!” A goat’s head was inches from Valen’s lips, as if about to kiss him.
Startled, his fist flew out first.
Nadol, suddenly struck, let out a pained cry and tumbled off the bed.
Crash!
The unexpected commotion drew the demons.
“Ah, Lord No Name has awakened!”
Someone’s shout served as a signal flare, and the demons swarmed in a clamorous crowd.
Faces popped up here and there, smearing the sprawling night sky.
Suddenly, his vision spun, and his head throbbed as if it would split open.
As Valen frowned, Argen waved her white hand lightly.
“I know you all have much to say, but today, hold your tongues.”
Valen’s head turned toward Argen.
It wasn’t a conscious action; it flowed as naturally as a flower turning toward the sun.
His mind was a complete mess.
He clearly remembered everything up to fainting after his miserable failure to escape the Demon King’s Castle.
Just as he thought, “I’m going to die in a pathetic way,” a white light snatched Valen from the brink of death.
He knew full well that light was Argen.
Despite the pain that felt like his skull was splitting in two, Valen desperately tried to read Argen’s expression.
Was she furious?
She must feel betrayed.
Even if he were to be beheaded on the spot, he had no words to say.
After all, he was the one who had broken the contract first.
Yet, despite his resolve, not a trace of sharpness could be found on Argen’s face.
Nor did she greet Valen’s awakening with the frenzied excitement typical of other demonic beings.
She was as stoic and silent as the great tree Valen had once transplanted.
“You shouldn’t overexert yourself yet.
Your body is still very weak.” Her gentle voice settled over him like a soothing pat on the chest.
“You… knowing what I did…”
“Let’s talk about that later.” Argen cut him off with soft determination.
Valen stared at her with a slight frown before turning his head away.
His head still ached.
Muscles screamed from the sudden movement after lying still so long.
“You bastard!
Who swings a fist the moment they open their eyes!” Nadol clutched his nose, eyes brimming with tears.
Valen felt a wave of forgotten irritation wash over him.
So that goat-headed bastard was the source of that unconscious warmth he’d felt.
Damn it, the guy with the horizontally slit pupils was wriggling around—of course his fist flew out.
Valen considered it a testament to his own noble character that he hadn’t ripped out Nadol’s horns.
“Touch me with that body one more time.
Next time, it won’t end with your nose being broken.”
“Th-th-th-th-!” Nadol seemed utterly flabbergasted by Valen’s ungrateful reaction struggled to continue speaking.
“You bastard!
Even though you had the blanket over you, you were shivering so badly I had to warm you up with my own body heat!
Do you think any demon here has warmer fur than mine?!”
Whether Nadol collapsed from the shock or not, Valen couldn’t care less.
He had no interest to spare for a mere goat right now.
Truthfully, just sitting upright like this was a miracle given how poor his condition was.
Cold sweat trickled down beside his temple.Valen gathered his waning strength, preoccupied with gauging Argen’s mood.
If he could, he’d have split open her skull to look inside.
Feeling Valen’s intense gaze, Argen tilted her head in confusion.
She seemed unable to understand why he was frowning at her like that.
Suddenly, she reached out her hand toward Valen.
He flinched.
Valen shuddered so slightly only he could feel it.
Yet, in the end, he did not pull away from her touch.Argen patted Valen’s chest gently.
She spoke without sound, forming the words with her mouth alone.
‘Lie down.’
Her expression as she spoke wasn’t exactly affectionate, even with kind words.
She looked as indifferent as ever.
Yet the act of carefully moving her small lips to speak was enough to melt the tension in Valen’s heart.
Just a slight twitch of her lips.
The moment her permission was given, his body collapsed instantly.
Valen laid his head back on the bed, and Argen pulled the blanket up to cover his chest.
This was Valen, who had once fought through the chaos of battle alone, refusing help even when arrows pierced his thigh and side during the war.
Yet now, he was surrendering his body to that demon, to Argen.
Valen breathed in slowly through his nose.
The cool moonlit air filled his lungs deeply.
Only now did he feel truly alive.
He had been certain he had no attachment to life, but seeing the vast sky spread out before his eyes wasn’t so bad after all.
“You’ve been asleep for three months.
What kind of dream did you have that made you wake up so late?”
“……I don’t remember.”
He had been asleep for a long time, and most of his memories were severed cleanly, as if someone had cut them out.
Yet, only Argen’s voice, which had occasionally reached him, remained clear.
Her uniquely soft voice, which had caressed the ragged edges of his heart.
Valen clenched his right hand tightly, then opened it.
He couldn’t grip as firmly as before, his knuckles no longer hardening completely, but moving it posed no major issue.
It would gradually improve with time.
Regardless, the escape from the Demon King’s Castle had failed.
Valen crossed his arms and pulled his shirt off in one swift motion.
Revealed was a body as hard as stone, devoid of any trace of fat.
Yet it wasn’t flawlessly elegant like a statue.
Scars remained everywhere—stabs, cuts, burn marks.
Scars that would make others frown, but to Valen, they were familiar and natural.
In fact, from Valen’s perspective, Argen’s flawlessly smooth body felt oddly strange.
Why was her skin so soft and supple?
It was for a similar reason that he found himself needlessly kneading her flesh during their intimate moments.
Valen examined his own body for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
A week had passed since he’d awakened, but his muscles were slow to return after such a long period of unconsciousness.
Years of training meant the curves of his body were still pronounced and defined, but he could feel the size of his chest and thigh muscles had diminished compared to before.
His gaze then drifted naturally to his right arm.
The conversation Argen and Nadol had shared while he remained unconscious came back to him.
Lately, whenever Valen looked at his right arm—now completely clean, without a trace of the black rot—he was overcome by a strange feeling.
It was truly peculiar, impossible to describe in just a few words.
It felt like standing on soil with a texture he’d never experienced before.
His centre of gravity swayed precariously, but he wasn’t sure if this was a bad feeling.
It seemed more like bewilderment from unfamiliarity.
And what overcame this sense of alienation was pure puzzlement.
Why was that?
It was incredibly difficult to understand what was going on inside Argen.
Valen took his eyes off his right arm and finished changing into another shirt.
He had time before breakfast and planned to do some light exercise in the training yard.
But before he could even open the bedroom door, it flung open from the outside without a knock.
It was Nadol.
Valen’s gaze drifted down to the area below Nadol’s shoulder.
Argen wasn’t there.
A feeling of deflation washed over him, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of irritation and annoyance.
“What is it?”
Nadol still harboured resentment over the incident where he’d been immediately punched by Valen the moment he regained consciousness.
He seemed to have expected a tearful embrace with Valen, or perhaps a scene where Valen deeply regretted his actions and beautifully begged for forgiveness.
“I came into your room every hour to turn you this way and that, worried you’d get bedsores!
And you turn my insides out?!”
“You’re quite the poet.
Why are you putting that into verse?
You want to work in the kitchen too?”
“Don’t brush it off!
I’m serious!”
“Where’s your superior?
Why did you come alone?” Valen asked, almost tossing the question out.
“Superior?
Ah, if you mean Lord Argen, don’t even think about seeing her today.” Nadol strode into the bedroom without the owner’s permission.
He then casually claimed a spot on the sofa.
“What are you doing?
Sit down.
Even if you’re an ungrateful black-haired beast, you still need treatment.”
“Why?”
“This is a doctor’s noble mission and professional duty…”
“Why can’t I even think about seeing Argen’s face?” Valen remained standing by the doorway.
“They came looking for Lord Argen.
Those stubborn old fools are so damn talkative, she’ll probably be stuck with them all day…” Nadol, who had been unpacking his medical bag, suddenly looked up.
Valen had already left the bedroom.