Ch.172172. Greetings

Magan had sent separate invitations to the already dead Deus Verdi and Norsweden as both a warning and entertainment.

It was a warning to retrieve the left hand of former Saintess Stella that belonged to him, while simultaneously being a bizarre joke—the kind only demons would laugh at—that ignored Deus Verdi’s death.

“Am I seeing this correctly?”

Magan, leaning against the balcony, was watching Deus getting out of the carriage. Despite the considerable distance that would prevent an ordinary person from seeing anything, Magan asked as if it were perfectly natural.

The emerald-haired secretary beside him remained tight-lipped, unable to say anything. Though she too was no ordinary person and could see Deus, she couldn’t explain why someone they believed dead was alive.

Her role was to assist Magan to the best of her ability and provide the culinary delights and answers he desired, but this time she could only keep her mouth shut.

“Ha, does a Spiritmaster have two lives or something?”

“……”

“Hey? Say something. I’m not human so I don’t know. Do you get an extra life after accumulating enough karma? One coin continue?”

“No, sir.”

“Right? Of course not.”

Magan burst into laughter, his jowls shaking. The damage he had suffered from the Lemegeton that had exploded in his stomach still hadn’t fully healed.

The moment he saw Deus, he felt a pain in his abdomen, realizing that this pain wouldn’t heal naturally no matter how much he consumed.

“Well, Deus Verdi.”

Slurp.

Magan’s tongue ran across his thick lips. This feeling was something he hadn’t experienced since seeing Saintess Stella.

A being he wanted to eat but couldn’t.

A man standing on Republic soil—practically Magan’s dining table—yet beyond his reach.

He forcibly suppressed the impulsive urge to leap over the balcony railing and rush at Deus.

“He will eventually be served as food before you, Lord Magan.”

“Yes, I suppose so. I’ll need to make some adjustments to the original plan.”

Somewhat calmed by his secretary’s words, Magan took a deep breath but didn’t take his eyes off Deus.

“I still feel like that man’s right hand remains in my stomach.”

He had to admit it was truly a delicacy. A human who had shouldered numerous karmic burdens and sorrows, who had overcome many hardships—so sweet that his tongue rejoiced.

“Ah.”

Magan’s low voice carried genuine regret.

“Truly mouthwatering.”

* * *

The moment Deus stamped the warp marker on the ground, a massive pillar of light began to descend from the sky.

Having seen this sight before, Findenai and Aria were unimpressed, but some of the other companions and Republic soldiers stared up with their mouths agape.

The golden pillar soon took human form, with a blonde girl standing at the forefront.

Elenoa Luden Griffin.

There were more people than when they had come to rescue Findenai. The Magic Judge Tyren Ol Velocus was also present, along with many knights.

It would have been too dangerous for King Orpheus to come personally, and it wouldn’t have looked good to the kingdom’s citizens for the king to make such an appearance.

A king should always be dignified and solemn. He couldn’t appear to be rushing over eagerly whenever the Republic, with whom they were engaged in a war of nerves, called.

Still, to show minimum courtesy, the royal family member Elenoa had come, an arrangement she had actively desired.

“Princess.”

Deus slowly knelt before her. He tried to kiss her palm, but Elenoa smiled considerately and said it was fine.

“I’ve heard everything.”

She didn’t want to receive such gestures from the current Deus, though she might have accepted them from Shinwoo Kim.

“You’ve worked hard, and please continue to do so.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Just as Darius had previously put on a performance for the clergy, Deus seemed to have some talent as an actor, though those who had been with Shinwoo Kim felt something was lacking.

“May I see your hand for a moment?”

A woman in white priestly robes appeared from among the warped group.

Saintess Lucia Saint.

Having confirmed that the Republic was ruled by the great demon Magan, the Saintess had come along to counter this threat.

Lucia’s expression darkened as she confirmed Deus’s now-empty right hand.

“Ah, Justia preserve us.”

Lucia spent a moment in prayer for Deus, invoking the goddess she served. When she slowly opened her eyes after finishing her prayer, Deus swallowed hard and expressed his gratitude.

“This way, please, noble blood of Griffin.”

The man who had come to welcome Elenoa treated her with utmost respect, though his gestures and tone revealed his own high rank.

When Elenoa gave a slight nod, Deus took his position on her left side, as instructed by Deia. Saintess Lucia stood on her right, and Magic Judge Tyren stood directly behind, creating an impressive Griffin delegation.

“Stand up straight.”

Deia, who had somehow fallen in behind him, cautioned him, and Deus naturally straightened his shoulders while looking around.

The welcome displayed by the lined-up Republic soldiers showed a magnificence that Deus had never seen in his lifetime.

“Don’t look around too much.”

“……”

So he couldn’t even sightsee.

Regardless, Deus ignored the marching music piercing his ears, the cheers of citizens, and the angular escort of soldiers, focusing only on the hard-tiled path before him.

At the end of the long procession.

Large feet and thick thighs came into view. A commanding presence despite the distance.

Perhaps because the path was straight, the pressure he emitted hit Deus’s entire body without any interference.

It was far from mere fighting spirit.

Magic Judge Tyren Ol Velocus understood this best. Having directly faced numerous hostile intents and killing auras, he knew that the emotion the great demon Magan was emitting from afar was different from aggressive ones.

But while Tyren could only recognize the difference without providing further answers, Elenoa revealed its true nature.

“Hunger.”

A primal yet universal desire. One of the three major desires that everyone naturally possesses—the man was feeling hunger while looking at Deus.

Realizing that Deus had become mere food in Magan’s eyes, Elenoa frowned deeply but moved to the left, naturally positioning Deus behind her and taking the greedy gaze meant for him.

“Huff, ugh.”

Deus, who had been unable to breathe under the great demon’s pressure, finally caught his breath thanks to Elenoa’s help. Still, he had to maintain his expression, making it quite an ordeal.

“Well, well, to think the Princess herself would come—I’m truly honored.”

Magan extended his hand with a friendly smile. Some might even describe his expression as warm, giving him the appearance of a kindly neighbor.

Elenoa met his gaze and responded with her own smile.

“Thank you for arranging this meeting for peace between our nations.”

“Haha, I’m simply delighted to take the initiative for the greater good of the continent!”

After exchanging pleasantries, Magan greeted the Saintess next.

“The sun of our continent, Saintess. Thanks to you, our continent is so bright.”

“…You flatter me.”

Lucia couldn’t hide her discomfort, having never imagined she would engage in such conversation with a great demon. He concealed his demonic energy so perfectly that had she not been informed beforehand, she would never have thought him a great demon. Lucia felt her own inadequacy compared to the previous Saintess.

And next.

Magan approached Spiritmaster Deus. Perhaps due to Magan’s large bulk and size, Deus felt as though he might be crushed at any moment.

“It’s been a while, Spiritmaster.”

Magan gently extended his right hand. Then, tapping his forehead, he cackled.

“Oh right! You don’t have a hand!”

“……”

“How inconsiderate of me. Here, my left hand.”

Magan’s eyes gleamed eerily as he extended his left hand.

The Deus Verdi he had seen was dead. He was testing whether this was truly the Deus he knew or an impostor.

Deia, realizing this, felt cold sweat running down her back as she anxiously watched what Deus would do next.

If he smiled and shook hands casually, Magan would be convinced that Deus was a fake.

In this brief but threatening psychological battle, Deus chose to:

Plunge.

Put his hand in his pocket.

A clear indication that he refused to shake hands. While this might appear extremely rude to onlookers,

It wasn’t an inappropriate response given that Magan’s side had already made insulting remarks about his right hand.

“Hmm……”

Magan licked his lips, barely suppressing his appetite.

‘Is he real? Did he really come back from that state?’

With an ambiguous expression, Magan inwardly pondered but said nothing as he turned away, while Deus, barely able to breathe properly, slowly removed his hand from his pocket.

“Well done.”

As Deia whispered cautiously, Deus slightly turned his head.

His expression was a mess, looking like he might cry at any moment.

“I-I was just too scared to shake his hand.”

“Yes, yes. You stumbled backward but caught a pig.”

From Deus’s perspective, he had simply fled out of fear that he might be devoured the moment he was within reach.

Thanks to his facial muscles stiffening from tension, he maintained his expression well enough to deceive the great demon.

Of course, suspicions hadn’t completely disappeared.

“Sigh, we have a long way to go.”

Knowing the banquet was just beginning, Deia maintained her vigilance and glared at Magan’s back.

But conversely.

In that moment when all attention was on Deus.

She didn’t realize that Magan’s eyes had briefly fixed on Deia, who stood behind Deus.