No, I Said it’s Mental Immunity

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Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Cluck cluck chicken.

Chicken is delicious.

Chick: “Wah! You’re a bad guy!”

Hormone Friend.

Pastel’s eyes snapped open. She felt the soft texture of the bed. She wiped the drool trickling from the corner of her mouth.

“Ugh.”

When did I fall asleep?

More importantly, whose room is this?

As she blankly stared at the unfamiliar room, she suddenly bolted upright.

“This is the Demon Lord’s room!”

Looking around the bed, Pastel found herself lying right in the middle. The Demon Lord was nowhere to be seen.

How disappointing that there wasn’t a scenario where the Demon Lord was sleeping next to her.

Her shoulders slumped.

“Silmang.”

She rubbed her eyes to get rid of the sleep crust.

It was her first time sleeping in the Demon Lord’s bed, and it didn’t feel great at all.

Yesterday, she realized just how femme fatale her mother was.

She understood why the Demon Lord was so attached. If they had shared those moments and feelings, it would be impossible to forget them.

Pastel massaged her cheeks.

“Maybe I really am a bad girl, just like my chick friend said.”

Having heard the tragic backstory of her mother, the biggest emotion she felt was defeat. Second was probably jealousy.

She felt like a terrible daughter.

But honestly, she had never even talked to her mother since being born. She felt that parents should at least allow this much.

“I admit it~.”

When she returns to the Empire, she could just apologize at her mother’s grave, right?

Bloop.

But but.

According to the Demon Lord, the mother who visited prison was a girl. The Demon Lord must have suffered deeply, with a minor trapped in such tragedy.

So, does that mean the Demon Lord fell in love with someone he had been taking care of since she was a minor?

Is this for real?

Pastel’s expression became bizarre.

“Is the Demon Lord perhaps a heartless thief?”

He definitely has a solid preference for younger ones.

But I mean, being a demon with unlimited lifespan, all of humanity is technically younger, so it’s not exactly his fault.

Oh wait, hold on.

The personification must be older than the Demon Lord.

Before falling from grace as a Great Demon, the Demon Lord probably loved the personification as a priest.

In other words…

He had a preference for older women!

But then the personification suddenly declared “I don’t like you!” and forced him to take on the burden of divinity, causing him to fall as a Great Demon. The human who swore to devote everything and think only of older women ended up living a tragic life, liking only younger ones.

It’s like the act of God saying he couldn’t cope with a preference for older women and switched it to liking younger ones.

The Demon Lord, betrayed by an older woman, ultimately negated his past preference and ended up liking younger ones.

Demon’s fall = Preference for younger ones.

Gulp.

Oh my.

This seems like a groundbreaking theory in theology.

In reality, the relationship between God and demons could be seen as a clash between preferences for older and younger ones~.

The God, disgusted by the fixation on preferences, corrupted the priest to teach about the diversity of tastes.

Wow, with such a fresh interpretation, might I become a leader in the theological world?

Wow!

Pastel burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! The Demon Lord is hilarious!”

『What did I even do?』

Ugh.

The Demon Lord, dressed in a loose white shirt, was leaning against the doorframe. Had he washed his face or something? His hair looked damp.

“Whoa!”

Pastel covered herself with the blanket. Her winter dress that she forgot to change out of was covered.

His pink eyes sharpened.

“Demon Lord, why do you barged into my room like that? It’s because of stuff like this that I’ve been getting angry lately!”

The Demon Lord seemed baffled. After sipping his coffee, he pointed with his mug to the room.

『This is my room.』

Ah.

“Oh, I see.”

Oh dear.

Pastel blinked in surprise, then clenched her fists. She shut her eyes tight and yelled again.

“Then why do you just come into the Demon Lord’s room? It’s because of stuff like this that I’ve been getting angry lately!”

Exactly!

I admit it!

『I don’t understand what you’re saying…』

The Demon Lord looked puzzled.

“That’s! That’s!”

Pastel, excited, blurted out any words that came to mind.

“It’s a hotel room I rented with my money, so the Demon Lord’s room is mine too! Everything of the Demon Lord’s is mine! Forever! For the future! Always!”

The Demon Lord shrugged.

『So, as I’ll have to live with my own money, do I also need to bill you for education and childcare?』

Bebe~.

Weak point detected.

A finger jabbed at the Demon Lord.

“You should call it nurturing fees, not childcare! Do you think I’m some little kid? You couldn’t even bill me for education like that!”

The Demon Lord really is a fool.

『That’s what I’m saying. Something that should be nurturing is being called childcare, so I guess I need to charge more.』

Gulp.

Oh my.

This is ridiculous.

Totally absurd.

Pastel lay back on the Demon Lord’s bed. Her pink hair spilled over, covering the bed.

“If you want to do childcare so much, why don’t you just start now?”

Bloop.

『Unfortunately, I already am. What would you like to eat for breakfast? It might be tight on time if I start preparing now, so hurry up and tell me.』

Bloop~.

“Am I supposed to say something? How about some formula milk?”

『Then I’ll prepare a healthy chicory salad.』

Chicory salad.

A chicory salad that only tastes bitter.

Gulp.

Oh my.

This is absurd.

Absurd!

Pastel shouted with all her might.

“This is so ridiculous…!”

The Demon Lord shrugged and finished his coffee. For a moment, only the aroma of coffee lingered.

The clock’s second hand ticked.

Chicory salad…

Pastel glanced at the Demon Lord. Upon meeting his red eyes, she quickly looked away.

Silence fell.

Her pink lips muttered softly.

“Please make fried chicken.”

It wasn’t really a request, but her chick friend said to eat chicken in her dream.

『Fine.』

The Demon Lord chuckled and turned away. The sound of his footsteps faded.

Pastel listened intently to the retreating footsteps. The commotion faded, and her tension lifted.

As her heart calmed, her pink eyes glazed over. Her feelings swirled inside her, then spilled out.

“I’m so annoyed.”

She had been so disturbed yesterday, yet being in a stable condition now felt annoying.

It frustrated her that she was the only one serious while the Demon Lord acted as if everything was fine.

While someone was mulling over the heavy defeat of not being a good daughter, the Demon Lord nonchalantly asked about breakfast, and that made her so annoyed.

“This is so unpleasant.”

This relationship felt heavy for her but light for the Demon Lord, and that felt unbearably unpleasant.

She wished the Demon Lord would also take this relationship seriously.

She hoped he might feel sick to his stomach during their conversations and struggle with feelings of urgency.

Just such thoughts emerged.

#

The snow-mixed wind of the Northern Mountains enveloped the Duke of Bellamont’s estate. The white snowflakes covered the blood-stained walls of the castle.

Someday, the blood-curdling screams and the internal strife that would be recorded in the history of the Empire would be hidden beneath the snowflakes, just like the melting snow.

Silver hair fluttered. Elshire Bellamont sat on the castle wall, holding a bloodied spear, gazing down at the territory.

Although it was poor, the once-proud city had not lost its status, yet it was half-destroyed and in shambles. The body of a soldier shot by a gun hung precariously over the storefront balcony. Drops of blood trickled down his arm.

The wind mixed with snow blew. Elshire held the spear tightly. The flowing red blood stained her clothes.

An officer approached and saluted.

“The internal cleanup is complete.”

“Yeah.”

“What should we do with the captured household members? Should we execute them as planned?”

“Yes.”

The officer departed.

Elshire Bellamont still gazed down at the territory.

The first cup of tea she tasted after arriving at the Duke’s estate was poison. When she reached the spot invited by her sisters, there were troops everywhere.

Accepting enrollment in the academy, having submitted to her eldest brother’s control and watching her own faction dissolve, the frail Elshire awaited her day of death.

Unless it was for Craft’s arrangement.

At that time, public opinion had been critical of Craft restructuring the Sky Island Knight Order.

No matter how casually the Sky Island Knight Order engaged in military operations, they were still a knight order. Was it genuinely rational as a military decision-maker to literally halve the strongest military force of the Sky Island?

Afterward, some members of the Knight Order joined Craft’s merchant group, leading to a severe perception of greed.

In the end, many knights left the Sky Island without belonging to any faction. How outrageous! This shouldn’t have happened in the Empire’s showcase, the Sky Island.

Was this the result Craft had desired? Did the inexperienced and high-ranking Craft just fumble? Had greed ruined everything?

No.

Because the forces that were thought to have dissolved were, for a while, on standby and soon headed to support Elshire at the Duke’s estate.

Since they had been expelled from the Sky Island Knight Order, they no longer belonged to it.

Having been expelled without honor, there was nowhere for them to go, and Elshire, who understood the circumstances, could create opportunities for restoring their honor; they couldn’t betray her.

No matter how casually they engaged in military operations, they were indeed the Knight Order.

Elshire could suddenly return to the Duke’s estate, having established a newly founded knight order.

The previous Sky Island Knight Commander, who had briefly left Sky Island while admitting responsibility for the restructuring of the knight order, joined unexpectedly in a private capacity, so there was a proper knight order with a knight-level member.

Having garnered fame in the North since her young age as a semi-knight and through pioneering the Northern Mountains, Elshire holding the flag of the knight order quickly rekindled the dispersed factions.

Hearing from Melissa that the Duke of Bellamont was lagging behind would have spurred Elshire’s earnest shout for reform at the Duke’s estate, solidifying her rationale.

Anyone could see that Elshire would be the next Duke.

Even though some of her anxious siblings had united and turned into a civil war state, incorporating military reform ideas discussed with Melissa casually, they armed themselves with the latest combat doctrines and demon realm rifles instead of traditional spears, making victory unavoidable.

The beginning of it all…

“Craft.”

It stemmed from Craft’s incomprehensible restructuring of the Knight Order.

It disguised itself as a greedy act for his own merchant group.

But it was a scheme targeting an entirely different place—the Duke of Bellamont.

The true schemer creates false intentions to deceive everyone. Even Elshire, who initially thought Craft wanted to form a close relationship in the heir competition for the Bellamont.

Elshire blankly stared up at the sky.

A single bird flew away.

From now on, she must never provoke Craft’s feelings.

Yeah.