“It seems…you only remember me when you need my help?”
Lilith, wrapped in a peacock-blue silk bath towel, sat beside Mil, her auburn hair, still damp, cascading down to her waist.
The ends of her hair brushed against her bare shoulders, and un-wiped water gathered into small, glistening pools in the hollows of her collarbone.
In reality, Lilith had always been a little intentional about this.
In her heart, the possibility of Mil being the Demon God's Child was still greater than 40%...
Of course, it was higher before, but after she called him over for a night of tutoring, the suspicion decreased somewhat.
But even if he wasn't the Demon God's Child, judging by the Demon God's Child's attitude towards him...
If Mil hadn't maintained his composure and had taken action, things would have become very interesting.
Yet, Mil was like a ruthless assassin, aloof and composed.
He simply glanced at Lilith, then his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Mainly, you’re the only one who can help me.”
The sweet scent of lavender essential oil, mixed with rising steam, wafted towards him.
Mil set the teacup down heavily, and amidst the crisp sound of porcelain hitting the silver tray, he caught sight of Lilith’s snow-white ankles.
It was strange; people always developed inexplicable feelings for these odd places, didn't they?
The crystal chandelier hanging from the mansion's dome cast long shadows from Lilith’s eyelashes.
She smiled faintly:
“Tell me, what is it?”
“Same as last time, get Fafner out, then take him to complete a Goblin cave cleanup…”
“No, that place is disgusting.”
“You could consider…not going in?”
Mil tentatively suggested, but for Lilith...
She really wanted to tell Mil directly not to let the Demon God's Child arrange any more missions to protect him!
She bent her elegantly shaped calves and rested them on the table, her pearlescent nail polish gleaming with mother-of-pearl luster in the candlelight…
The peacock-blue silk slipped half an inch with her movement, revealing her thighs, their skin as fine and smooth as mutton fat jade.
“Let me think…can you massage?”
“A little…”
Before Mil finished speaking, black silk, scented with lavender, already covered his eyes.
As the silky texture wrapped around the bridge of his nose, he heard the soft rustle of the bath towel falling to the floor.
“Cover your eyes.”
Then, Lilith turned and lay prone on the red soft couch.
“Let me experience your skill.”
Her slender, graceful figure was like rolling hills.
With a hazy smile in her eyes, she pushed her long hair aside; behind her small shoulders, her butterfly bones rose and fell like fluttering wings in the warm candlelight.
Her spine curved into an elegant, flowing line, her waist connecting to hips as shapely as a coiled jade, followed by long, straight legs without a single ounce of excess fat.
Sometimes, Mil felt quite helpless traveling alone, and he wasn't even given a system.
“Should I wear gloves?”
“No need.”
Mil’s fingertips slowly pressed down along her spine, pausing briefly at the third vertebral process.
“Heh…if Prince Charles saw this, he’d most likely kill me.”
Saying this, he grasped Lilith’s shoulders and began to apply pressure…
Her smooth skin, carrying her body temperature and delicate fragrance, instantly made one's blood surge upon contact.
However, Lilith's eyes held a hint of disappointment, not because of Mil, but because she was worried about her own future…
“I’m suddenly curious, how does the Demon God's Child view the Black Magician, Ibon?”
Mil scoffed and said:
“In the countryside, a dog that has tasted blood will be put down.”
While this statement might not be scientifically accurate, it was perfectly apt for describing Ibon.
“However, Ibon cannot die yet…”
“Hmm? Why not?”
“Of course, because he is still useful…”
The strongest weapon in the demon faction—Artificial Angel XIII—had not yet been born.
From a certain perspective, Ibon was indeed a genius; he wasn’t the strongest Black Magician, nor could he even enter the first tier.
But his influence on this world was truly significant.
Deep into the night, the chirping of a nightingale drifted in from outside the window frame…
Lilith’s auburn hair spread like seaweed across the soft couch, and her breathing gradually became long and even. When Mil pulled off the blindfolding black silk, her curled toes were unconsciously rubbing against the carpet's pile.
Mil called a maid to cover her with a blanket, then turned and left.
…
The next day…
Sibyl Magic Academy had extra classes on the weekend, and Mil was still unwilling to miss crucial lessons.
On a summer morning, as usual, he met Lilith on the Throne Angel Bridge.
She stood at the bridgehead, holding a pearl-grey silk umbrella, an iris-patterned ribbon woven through her auburn curly hair, her amethyst earrings swaying gently in the morning breeze, casting rainbow-colored speckles on her beige lace collar.
If not for the “Golden Prophecy” three years later, Mil wouldn't have disliked such a routine.
During the “Essence Entanglement Theory” class, Professor Victor's deep and resonant voice continued to lull everyone to sleep:
“Soul and essence are like stone and sand. The soul must be fixed by the body so that it does not scatter into essence like sand.”
The spermaceti candle holder cast a flickering halo on his silver-rimmed glasses, and his withered finger traced the soul circuit diagram on the blackboard.
As he spoke, he looked down at the lecture hall, his gaze fixed on Lilith:
“Miss Lilith, besides the body and magic stone, what else can preserve a soul?”
Lilith stood up in response and said:
“The magic core of a magical beast is the basic material for a magic stone and can also temporarily house a soul. However, the magic core is filled with chaotic dark magic, which will cause the soul to deteriorate.”
Even under the continuous indoctrination of feudal superstition, Mil felt it was still very difficult for him to break free from his old worldview.
magic stones were not that mysterious; theoretically, all translucent substances could become magic stones.
Including gems, glass, ice, and even water.
“By the way, why does Professor Victor always seem so worried?”
Mil fiddled with the steel pen in his hand, then suddenly asked in a low voice. Lilith sighed and said:
“Mr. Victor’s daughter was a White Magician of the Church. Due to excessive use of White Magic, her body underwent photification, and she was martyred in the Fourth Black Magic Crown War.”
These past few days, the students in the class would gather around Professor Victor whenever they had a moment.
But they weren't interested in the course; rather, it was because Viktor was the chief examiner for the “Tian Geng Beyond” trial.
…
At the same time, far away in Lainier Village…
A grey-haired girl with delicate features knocked on the door of Mr. Machilo, who had sacrificed himself while fighting Goblins.
A middle-aged woman opened the door, and the soft morning sunlight illuminated the girl’s exquisite face.
From her attire, she appeared to be a young noblewoman of prominent family background. The middle-aged woman asked with some confusion:
“Miss, can I help you?”
“Hello, are you Mrs. Machilo? I…was an old acquaintance of Mr. Machilo. My name is Diana.”
The woman paused, but didn't think much of it, and raised a hand to welcome the girl inside.
“Are you here to find him?”
“No, I’ve already heard about Mr. Machilo and I regret it deeply…I came this time to return something he entrusted to me.”
Saying this, Diana placed the box on the table and opened it. Inside lay a severed pinky finger.
“If his body cannot be found, at least this can be used to erect a monument for him.”
Mrs. Machilo trembled as she took the wooden box. The morning light pierced through her faded wool shawl, revealing glistening tears in the fabric’s weave.
In Diana’s impression, Mr. Machilo was a respectable warrior.
He was one of the few front-line garrison survivors during the initial outbreak of the Fourth Black Magic Crown War.
He was also a key figure in changing the course of the war.
Whenever the black magic crown appeared, a tragic war would erupt between the magicians, regardless of whether they were good or evil.
At that time, the Black Magician Theron used powerful magic to drag everyone into a dream…
He used everyone’s dreams to build a barrier, incubating the Mother Goddess’s Black Goat; those outside couldn't enter, and those inside couldn't wake up.
It was Mr. Machilo who bit off his own pinky finger with his molar, forcing himself to remain conscious and shatter the Black magic stone.