Became Pregnant With the Demon King’s Child

“What did you just say?”
Felix, though he understood perfectly well, asked again to confirm. His eyes were insolent, making it clear that if the Crown Prince had spoken in jest, he wouldn’t forgive him.
“You’ve heard all the priests say the same thing—Lowell Clarke is simply asleep, right?”

“There’s no need to repeat what everyone already knows.”
The Crown Prince shook his head, watching Felix lose patience. An alpha facing the loss of their bonded partner was more beast than man. He didn’t delay any further and gave his answer.
“If more than thirty priests all say the same thing, it’s probably true. So how about calling in a priest who actually specializes in sleep?”

“You’re talking about the priests of the Temple of Hypnos?”
Felix furrowed his brow. The temple that worshiped Hypnos was considered one of the least authoritative. Not only was the number of its priests small, but their healing abilities were notoriously weak.
They were known for focusing on sleep-related treatments—but not direct healing, more like counseling-based methods. Naturally, they were seen as less effective compared to the priests of other temples who could show immediate results.

“You’re aware I don’t trust their abilities, aren’t you?”
Many believed the Hypnos priests lacked divine power altogether, and Felix was one of them. After his first military victory, when he’d been tormented by nightmares, he had turned to them for help—but their treatments had done absolutely nothing. That experience had left a deep-rooted mistrust.
“You just wanted to try something—anything, didn’t you?”

“……”
Felix, rarely, fell silent. He was the kind of man who never looked back once he’d dismissed something—unless, of course, it involved Lowell. If it weren’t for this situation, he wouldn’t have spared a single glance toward the Hypnos priests.
“Fine. I’ll ask them to send someone of high rank.”

But once again, the matter concerned Lowell, so it was an exception.
Turning away, Felix approached Lowell again, not expecting much. The slack in Lowell’s lips and the way his eyes stayed tightly shut made him look at peace—and somehow, that only made Felix sadder.
Is it really so comfortable without me, Lowell?

Felix knew it was a childish complaint, but he couldn’t hold back the feelings overflowing inside him. The Crown Prince remained, unmoved by the sight.
“I already brought him here. If it’s all right, let him take a look now.”
A tense silence filled the room.
Still looking down at Lowell, Felix didn’t even glance at the Crown Prince.

“I don’t understand why you’re going this far.”
Felix didn’t bother to hide his suspicion—he knew the Crown Prince only ever moved for his own gain. He even began to toy with the dagger Lowell had carried, a clear warning: If you’re scheming something, I won’t let it go.
At Felix’s sharp reaction, the Crown Prince twisted his lips into a smirk.

“First reason: I’m acknowledging the Duke Felix’s merits. Second reason: I have no intention of making you my enemy.”
He tapped the hilt of the blade and continued, a beat slower.
“If Lowell Clarke were to die, Felix, you wouldn’t forgive anyone—including me.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. That selfish man had actually read his emotions—and even predicted his response? It was… surprisingly perceptive.
Doesn’t matter either way.
But that thought didn’t last long. Right now, Felix didn’t want to spare even a sliver of his attention for anything that wasn’t Lowell.

“Tell him to come in.”
The moment Felix spoke, the door opened and a priest entered from where he had been waiting outside.
Unlike the usual white-robed priests, this one wore black, his face partially obscured.

“I greet the Crown Prince of the Empire. I am Morris of the Temple of Hypnos.”
“No need for pleasantries. Come here and examine the patient.”
The priest made to bow to Felix as well, but was stopped.

“Yes, Your Highness.”
Morris wasn’t fazed by Felix’s coldness—he walked in smoothly and stopped at Lowell’s bedside.
“May I place my hand on the Young Lord?”

He asked Felix, who was still holding Lowell protectively.
“If you try anything foolish, I’ll take your hand off.”
“Yes.”

Morris placed his hand on Lowell’s forehead. A faint light flowed from his palm and seeped into Lowell’s body. Closing his eyes, Morris seemed to assess something, then tilted his head and pulled his hand back. Even under Felix’s suspicious gaze, he didn’t flinch.
“May I touch his abdomen?”
“Is that necessary for treatment?”

“Not for treatment—but for confirmation.”
Felix nodded. Light surrounded Lowell’s abdomen, and Morris gave a slight nod.
“I was told the Young Lord’s magic had been sealed for a long time due to brainwashing. Is that true?”

“So I heard.”
Felix recalled the reports he’d received from his knights. When he first heard it, he’d wondered—If I had met young Lowell back then, would I have noticed his aura had changed and realized he was under dark magic?
A pointless thought now.

Pushing the rising emotion aside, he looked to Morris, silently asking for further explanation. Morris cleared his throat and pulled his hand away from Lowell’s belly.
“Brainwashing loses power the moment the subject becomes aware of it. But don’t you find it strange that no trace of magic can be sensed from him even now?”
“Brainwashing can take time to wear off.”

“Yes. But the Young Lord’s case is different.”
Felix furrowed his brow again—a habit he’d been trying to fix thanks to Lowell, but had slipped back into while Lowell slept.
“Be clear. What are you trying to say? What does his sleep have to do with his magic?”

Morris stood firm under Felix’s cutting tone.
“The brainwashing has already lifted. But the fetus in his womb is absorbing all of his magic. It’s undergoing rapid growth. He must give birth soon. Otherwise, the fetus will grow too large and endanger the Young Lord’s life.”
“What?”

Felix’s eyes dropped to Lowell’s belly. His icy gaze made it clear that if the child inside posed even the slightest threat to Lowell, he would eliminate it without hesitation.
“But he cannot give birth yet. The fetus is the only thing keeping his body alive.”
“What makes you so sure?”

“Because the Young Lord’s soul is no longer here. He’s gone somewhere else—through a path formed in his dreams.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
Felix had to restrain the urge to draw his sword and slice off Morris’s head at the mention of souls and dreams. On top of that, saying Lowell’s soul had gone somewhere else—as if he’d left Felix—was an insult he could barely tolerate.

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth. And since the path remains open, it means he intends to return.”
“Keep going.”
“Yes. Normally, a body whose soul has departed cannot endure for long. But in the Young Lord’s case, the fetus’s abnormal growth is maintaining the body. I believe this is an instinctive response—to keep the mother alive.”

Despite the suffocating pressure of alpha pheromones, Morris stood straight and explained calmly. Even the knights watching from a distance began to worry for him.
“So?”
“The moment the Young Lord returns through the dream-path, labor will begin. You should be prepared.”

Morris spoke with conviction.
The knights and Crown Prince watched Felix closely, nervous that he might draw his sword. Killing a priest would provoke a serious conflict with the temple—and given the capital’s already chaotic state, it would be disastrous.
“Are you certain?”

Unexpectedly, Felix reined in his fury. The shift was so abrupt it felt as if all his anger had been a test.
“Yes. If I’m wrong, you may take my life.”
Felix nodded.

“Make preparations for the safest delivery possible. And you—Morris, was it?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Can you tell when Lowell will return from the dream?”

“Yes. I can.”
“Then # Nоvеlight # stay in this room.”
***

While the guestroom was growing more chaotic, Lowell found himself facing an unexpected figure.
“Lowell! Hi there!”
It was a version of himself—smiling brightly, waving energetically, with Euno’s face.

What the hell is this?
Lowell’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.