Chapter 190: An Era of Peace

Chapter 190: An Era of Peace

Deep within the Demon King's Castle.

A tall figure sat on the solitary throne, his hand pressed against his forehead. The cold armor he wore was shrouded in dense black mist, and crimson eyes glowed through the gaps in his helmet.

A cloaked demon slowly entered the room and knelt before the figure on the throne.

"Is everything taken care of, Zelhardt?"

The figure on the throne spoke slowly.

"The Great Demons are all highly individualistic, but they have done their best not to pressure the humans. The awakening of the chosen one will be delayed for as long as possible."

The kneeling figure was the Demon King's right-hand man, the all-knowing Zelhardt, a demon who could see all possibilities and held a position even higher than the Seven Sages.

There was only one person who could command such respect from him.

The Arch-Enemy of the World, the Demon King!

"Will delaying the time be enough?"

"Please rest assured, the emotional fluctuations of the chosen one will fade over time. Indifference is the norm for a god."

The figure on the throne was silent for a moment before asking, "If I were to challenge them, do you think I have a chance?"

"Humans cannot stand against a god, and neither can demons."

Zelhardt bowed his head slowly. "But I swear by the name of the All-Knowing Zelhardt, I will fulfill your deepest desire."

...

News of the demons' defeat and their request for peace spread from Eorde to the Central Kingdoms.

The Hero Squad and the military forces had defeated the demons, forcing the remaining demon factions to agree to never leave the Eorde region in exchange for their lives.

The era of peace had officially begun.

The only regret was the unfortunate sacrifice of the Hero Squad. To honor their bravery, many places began erecting statues and holding celebrations.

All the soldiers who participated in the final battle were summoned to the capital to receive the king's commendation. The Central Kingdoms erupted in celebration, rejoicing over the arrival of peace.

...

In the outskirts of Balum, in a weed-infested wasteland, two figures stood side by side.

"Do you believe this news?"

"Who knows? Maybe the fallen Hero Squad was so powerful that even the Seven Sages, the All-Knowing, and the Corrupt Sage couldn't stand against them, let alone the Demon King."

Fleuran's eyes were fixed on her magic book, and she answered without looking up.

"I didn't know you had a talent for telling cold jokes."

"Unless someone is extraordinarily powerful, the miraculous magic of the Seven Sages can't be countered without finding their specific weaknesses."

Luk extended his hand toward the ground, and the earth transformed into an ocean in an instant. Then it turned into a sea of fire, and fierce winds whipped the flames into massive fire tornadoes, connecting heaven and earth with their scorching heat.

But the next moment, everything returned to normal, leaving only residual heat to prove it wasn't a dream.

"Your material transmutation is quite proficient, and your mana is nearly one-third of mine."

Fleuran put away her book and observed for a moment. "There's no need to continue sparring with you. In terms of practical magic, you have already surpassed me."

There are some geniuses that even the most talented cannot match.

For example, her teacher, Flame, who, at less than thirty years old, was far more powerful than her, who was hundreds of years old. Flame had developed many magical techniques and theories that remained unsolved even a thousand years later, all within a human lifespan of less than a century.

Luk had surpassed her in less than a decade, and while he wasn't quite on the same level as Flame, he was close.

"My theoretical knowledge is still lacking. If I could analyze and understand the structure and properties of all matter in the world, I could change everything, given enough mana."

Luk looked at his palm and spoke calmly.

"Analyzing matter by human effort is too labor-intensive. Such a grand goal would be too long even for an elf's lifespan."

Fleuran pointed out the difficulty directly.

"I heard that in an ancient ruin, there is a demon called the Water Mirror, capable of creating perfect replicas of its host. If I could learn this magic, it would significantly shorten the time needed."

Recalling the Level 1 Mage Exam from the original story, Luk thought of a seemingly feasible plan.

"Do you plan to set out to find the Water Mirror demon?"

"Not yet. Time is on my side, and this isn't urgent." Luk touched the Lotus Ring on his hand. "Let's go back."

Fleuran was clearly surprised. "We've only been out for two hours. Have you been getting more domestic lately?"

"Trera will get jealous if I stay away too long." Luk gave a faint smile. "Besides, today is the day the commendations end, and there's bound to be a fool who will rush back."

Luk gazed toward the direction of the manor, a hint of melancholy in his eyes. "Even if I hurry, it won't make a difference."

...

Amir enjoyed repeating some of the things Luk had said.

Some of them were deeply philosophical, making him feel like he had learned something. Others sounded philosophical and could be used to deceive people and put on airs.

There were also some that he didn't understand before, but now, looking back, seemed very fitting.

For example, the closer one gets to home, the more hesitant one becomes.

Wearing his honor medal, Amir felt like he couldn't move his feet. He longed to return to the manor immediately, but when he finally stepped into Balum's territory, he hesitated and didn't dare to go home directly.

After much hesitation, Amir didn't return to the familiar manor but instead wandered around the city.

He saw some familiar shops and many scenes that had changed dramatically. In the city center, he even saw a statue of Luk.

This statue was erected by the city lord when Luk earned the title of "Father of Modern Magic." Over the years, it had become a city landmark, and mages often came to pay their respects.

"Things are going well, huh?"

Amir muttered with a tinge of jealousy, but he couldn't help feeling a bit proud. His brother was always this amazing.

As the sky grew darker, Amir realized he had to return or risk spending the night at an inn. He hesitated for a moment before finally walking up to the manor and knocking on the door with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The person who greeted him wasn't the old butler but a young face. The new butler, Charles, looked at Amir's appearance and attire for a moment before recognizing him.

"Master Amir, welcome home."

Charles courteously ushered him in. "I'm Charles, the new butler who joined the household after you left."

Amir looked around. The interior of the manor remained unchanged, with no signs of alteration.

"Where's Uncle Arnold?"

"That was my father. He passed away three years ago."

Amir fell silent for a moment. "Everything has been well while I was away, right?"

Charles hesitated, and Amir's heart sank with a bad feeling.

"Tell me what happened."

"Your mother passed away three months ago."

Amir's body shook, and after a brief moment of silence, he strode to Lady Roine's old room and trembled as he opened the door. Seeing the empty room, his face turned pale, and his mind went blank. He collapsed to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

It had only been a few years since he left.

"Seven years, and you're still this useless."

A cold voice sounded behind him, followed by a powerful kick that sent Amir sprawling.

Amir stopped crying, wiped his face, and got up to see a face that hadn't changed a bit in his memory. He then cried even harder.

"Luke, Luke!"

He clung to Luke's leg, smearing tears, snot, and saliva onto the other's pants, which made the slightly OCD elf want to kick him again.

But Luke held back. After all, this was his long-lost brother who had just learned of his mother's death. It wouldn't be right to start beating him up right away.

After Amir cried himself out, Luke had Charles take him to wash up. Then, he returned to his room and informed Trella that he wouldn't be coming back tonight.

Trella didn't ask many questions. She wasn't close to Amir, but she understood the bond between brothers.

The two of them sat at a small table on the manor's rooftop, a large bottle of wine between them. They looked at the bright moon and began to talk.

Amir's mood had stabilized a bit after crying, but the sadness on his face was still evident. He drank in silence, waiting for the alcohol to numb his mind before starting to speak.

"Actually, I regretted joining the army from the beginning. I thought it would just be fighting the orcs, but the discipline was much stricter than I expected."

"But if I had run back, the Campbell family's reputation would have been ruined. So I gritted my teeth and endured, and whenever I missed you, I would look at the moon, just like you did when we were kids, thinking you might be looking at the same moon somewhere else."

"Writing letters was a hassle. The front lines were short on supplies, and there were so many orcs. If it weren't for my noble status, I wouldn't even have been able to send a message home."

"I've gotten much stronger over the years. I can now hold my own against orc generals. I thought I was pretty impressive, but then I heard you had become the father of modern magic."

"Coming back, everything seems gone. Mother is gone, Teacher Lainis is gone, Uncle Arnold is gone, and I don't recognize most of the servants here."

Amir took another drink, a bitter smile on his face. "Everything has changed, but you're still the same as ever."

Luke replied calmly, "Just my appearance hasn't changed."

"Yeah, and you even got married." Amir pouted, feeling that his brother had acted out of line. "Did you know that in noble families, the second son isn't allowed to marry if the first son hasn't?"

Luke reclined on the roof. "First, I'm not a Campbell by blood. And second, do you really consider yourself the older brother?"

"I'm six years older than you!"

"Amir, when someone can only argue with age, it means they have nothing else to compare themselves to."

Amir rolled his eyes, feeling a bit melancholic. "I admit, I'm not as good as you. If you were the heir of the Campbell family, you would have done a better job."

Luke shook his head. "Don't dwell on what-ifs. You need to look forward. Amir, as the head of the Campbell family, you need to be more mature."

"I act mature in the army, but when I'm with you, I feel like a kid again," Amir mumbled.

"I understand. No matter how old you get, you still feel like a child in front of your father."

"…If you keep talking like that, I'll have to beat you up."

Luke propped himself up and raised an eyebrow. "What, ready for the three thousand six hundred and sixty-third match?"

Hearing this number, Amir froze, his gaze seeming to drift back in time to the two young boys fencing on the lawn, watching each other's movements.

Not far away, a dignified lady and a beautiful elven mentor watched them, smiling and chatting.

Memories flooded his mind. He finished the bottle of wine in one gulp, his expression a mix of laughter and tears, and slowly slumped onto the table, mumbling softly.

"Can't go back, can't go back."

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end