After walking to the telecircle and waiting a few seconds for the energy inside the circle’s crystals to gather and teleport them, they finally arrived back in the Dragon Lands’ city Sizburn. After arriving, everyone, except Claude and the four guards, sighed in relief, probably because of how long the entire journey had been. They all were thinking of the same things, like taking a long-awaited bath and enjoying a nice meal without being surrounded by predators after their lives. It was a well-deserved sigh of relief as they’d all managed to accomplish so much during the month’s duration of the journey. Try getting close to the end of the D-class without Marcel’s influence over the world or any of their special abilities and see how hard it is.  

After everyone had finally taken the time to think and breathe in the air of Sizburn and Marcel, staring joyously with wonder at the spirits who roamed oh so free through the three dimensions, they got off the telecircle. It was then that they were approached by a man.  

The man who approached them had short crimson red hair parted to the left side of his face, obscuring his left red eye. His facial expression was blank, almost stiffened like that of one who wouldn’t be caught dead smiling. He was dressed just like they were although his gear seemed laxer than theirs were. He wore a black bodysuit that covered the majority of his body except for his arms and legs, a normal look for an assassin, and a blue coat above it as well as a pair of matching blue shorts. On his back was a pair of black longswords that Marcel had never seen before. He thought that they were very cool. He looked fairly young although who was to say that he wasn’t some old fossil standing before them. Looks can be very deceiving. 

When the man approached, Claude looked surprised at first but then he bowed slightly with haste and asked, 

“Your majesty, what a surprise! You’ve come to greet us yourself?” He spoke in a formal tone. The moment he opened his mouth and said those words, the others got confused and immediately began wondering who the individual before them was, except for the guards who bowed courtly to the man and extended their greetings as well. 

“Rise! Rise! We shouldn’t make too much of a scene here.” The man commanded, suddenly smiling. The five got up as ordered, decreasing a bit of the tension that was starting to build up in the square as people began staring at them.  

Marcel, to appease his confused mind and that of the others, went to Claude and asked him about the man, whispering. 

“Um... who is he?” He whispered unquestionably confused and the naïve expression that he always used when he asked about new things plastered onto his face. 

Claude whispered back, “Can’t you see? This person is your fiancé, the Demon Lord, sort of.” 

Marcel’s eyes widened in shock as he screamed internally. He did his best to hold his shock in and looked closely at the man.  

Yes, although the man looked different, he still carried some traits of the Demon Lord that Marcel knew. The red hair that still shone ever so brightly and the bloody pools that are those crimson red eyes. They carried so many subtle but still unnoticeable traces of the Demon Lord appearance-wise that Marcel was left with no choice but to trust Claude at his word that he was indeed seeing the Demon Lord. It didn’t stop his mind from continuing to be confused at the sight of the man that was presumably the Demon Lord. 

While Marcel was pondering about whether the man in front of him was the Demon Lord, his other three companions had already bowed down to the man who then courteously and kindly told them to get up. They still didn’t know which royalty they were bowing to, well except for Claude who’d just heard from Marcel that this man was presumably the Demon Lord but because Marcel and the Demon Lord’s relationship was to be kept a secret at the moment, he said nothing.  

“Ah, so you must be the little hero’s travel companions. I hope that you guys become friends who watch over each other in the future. As you might already know, people like him don’t get to make ‘real’ friends so easily. Keep looking after him, miss fox and miss tiger.” He said, slight smile plastered across his face. The two girls suddenly flinched at the Demon Lord’s last words while Allan contemplated the meaning of his words. The girls felt the terrifying presence behind his smile and were instantly spooked. As far as Allan knows, the heroes have a lot of friends, so he didn’t understand the meaning behind the Demon Lord’s words.  

After the Demon Lord’s words, the girls felt uneasy and uncomfortable, so they quickly said their goodbyes to Allan and Marcel a few moments later and then left, promising to contact the both of them again through their Informers after they’d exchanged magic power through their rings as to register each other as familiar people. Silva already took notice of Marcel and Allan’s psychic waves a while back and was sure that she wasn’t going to forget them so easily. After all, they were very unique in their own special ways.  

Marcel, after the girls hastily left, wondered what all the rush was but didn’t bother to make a big deal of it although, he felt like he might have just missed something very important about the two ladies he’d traveled with for almost a month by not paying enough attention to the Demon Lord’s words. Hey, maybe he’ll ask Allan later to see if he knows what it is. Afterward, Claude, Allan, Marcel, and the Demon Lord left as well, although, they teleported back to the castle.  

After the teleportation had brought them inside the Demon Lord’s castle, the strange man they met in the square disappeared and the Demon Lord appeared although, it was time to split ways again. Claude went to take care of more Demon Lord-related business while Allan, in a state of happiness over how fun the last few days had been, got inspired to make new spells and artifacts. His alchemy wasn’t going to make itself without his abilities, so he had to get to it. Sure, he now lived as an existence similar to that of the Demon Lord’s ‘Chosen Ones’ now but that didn’t mean that he could just slack off. He also had witch-related alchemic research and spells to explore. The witch worlds counted on his genius mind to find solutions to the problems they could not in their research and exploration of the world’s fundamental laws, so he was in a rush to get back to work. He’d had enough fun for now. 

As Allan was about to leave for his workshop, Marcel grabbed him by the back and he turned to look at him. 

Raising the gloves, he’d gotten from Allan for him to see, he said, “Thanks for the muscle-activating gloves once again. They were a great help.” He smiled after and Allan, who wasn’t at all used to being thanked more than once over anything he’s ever made, was a bit dazed. 

“Sure! It’s no big deal!” He said, panicking with a bright red face. Marcel looked and laughed, then Allan teleported on his own. 

“What?! He can teleport?” He asked, surprised. 

“Of course. Thanks to a certain someone, he now has the necessary magic power needed to temporarily deconstruct and reconstruct himself and with his talent in magic, it would be a surprise if he still couldn’t manage something as basic as teleportation. That little one is a genius among geniuses.” The Demon Lord complemented Allan.  

“Huh?! Who is this person who helped boost his magic power? I wonder if they’ll help me too if I ask.” Marcel asked. 

“Ask yourself, Ignoramus! Fool who doesn’t realize what he’s capable of!” The Demon Lord thought. He couldn’t help but laugh at clueless Marcel who was one day going to stir up storms that no one would expect in the future, well, except him of course. 

“You’ll get there someday. The more you grasp the fundamentals of magic power and the power of the elements, the sooner you’ll be able to utilize them to their fullest potential. Your friend who just left as well the new one with the black hair both have the title of ‘Spell Master’, meaning that they can create spells as simply as just thinking up one. You have a long way to go before you attain such an achievement.” The Demon Lord said. 

“Huh! Duly noted. I’ll work hard to get to their level.” Marcel said cheerfully. 

“Good. I expect at least that much from you.” The Demon Lord suddenly patted Marcel’s head. He blushed, caught off guard by the sudden physical contact initiated by the Demon Lord. 

“Oh... also, good work! You’ve earned yourself some long, deserved rest. I think Claude thinks so too, so you’ll be free to do whatever you want for a while.” The Demon Lord added. 

“Sweet! Now maybe I can finally explore all of this castle and also get some of my thoughts in order. I’m exhausted!” Marcel sighed. He then looked up to still find the Demon Lord’s hand still on his head.  

“Ahem! Your hand?” He hinted at the Demon Lord to get his hand off his head. 

“Oh! I’m sorry! You’re just so short that I thought your head was my armrest.” He teased, sneering. 

“GET YOUR STUPID HAND OFF ME!!!” He shouted angrily. This made the Demon Lord ruffle up his hair, making him look sloven. 

“I HATE YOU SO MUCH!” He added, enraged. 

“Well then, as an apology, how about I ask your attendants to prepare a special feast just for you? Will that be sufficient as an apology?” He asked in a pleading but condescending tone. Marcel was in no way going to reject delicious food, so he had a hard time retorting back at the Demon Lord and left after proclaiming he hated the Demon Lord one last time, although he’d eventually come back to that same point to ask the Demon Lord for directions to his corner of the castle. It still confused him, so he was definitely exploring the entire layout of the Demon Lord’s castle layout. Once again, the Demon Lord won another match without even trying.  

The Demon Lord teleported Marcel to his corner of the castle, then he left as well to carry on with his own business. 

Immediately after arriving in his corner of the castle, his three assigned maids appeared out of nowhere to greet their master. Marcel, embarrassed as always when someone greeted him with even the slightest bit of formality, wanted to ask them to not do that next time, but then he realized that he was living in the Demon Lord’s castle for free and thus, technically didn’t have the right to reject any hospitality he was shown, so he replied with a simple, “I’m back!” and went on with his business. 

He rested in his room for a few hours, sorting through his thoughts from over the past few days when the maids came back in to tell him that his meal was ready, news that delighted him. He entered the dining hall to have his specially made meal with in-season fresh ingredients with delight in his eyes and afterward, he sighed with deep satisfaction. Still, he felt like the Demon Lord had somehow tricked him although he got what he was promised. (Uh, note: Marcel’s meal is always a well-prepared and lavish feast even without the Demon Lord constantly telling his maids to make it so.)