Chapter 7: Truce

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Mu Rong An was really idle, letting the perfect poise she was forced to learn since childhood bent a little as she looked at him. She didn't know how long she sat here, but with him as her personal attraction, she had yet to be bored.

He was diligently swinging his sword, again and again, and again; alternating between anger, frustration and a myriad of other emotions she had yet to decipher for he was trying his harder to keep a calm and collected face. If she had to guess, she would say that he was trying to ease his mind of something. It didn't feel like he was doing a good job at it though. 

She was fixing him so hard that she actually managed to catch the slightest changes in his expressions; it wasn’t easy, however, for if women had a mask of polite gentleness always on, then some men had one of seriousness they were unwilling to part with and this man was doing a good job at being an expert in the art. Added to that that there were still dark bags under his eyes, making him even more unwelcoming with this sword in hand; some sleep wouldn't do him any harm at all!

At one point, he had taken off his upper cloth. The sun was coming out and he was sweating too much for it to be agreeable.

It wasn’t her first time seeing his upper body naked; she did undress him after all. Yet she still felt her breath taken away. For him she was part of the decoration though, he had long taken to not answering when she talked, so, she had resumed silently watching him. There wasn’t much else to do.

That barbarous sword that had always been unsightly to her every time they met previously, no longer felt so ugly. She could even find some beauty to it and was willing to compare it less to the feather used for poems. It wasn't all that bad that he wasn't a scholar; it was actually good that he favored martial arts more. His weapon was like a continuation of his body and suddenly her hands itched to take a plume and draw him. 

She really wanted her painting materials back. 

Closing her eyes, she could imagine herself sketching every curve of his being, every movement that he made, the swinging of his saber, the fluidity of his gestures, and the equilibrium of his pose. The sketching done, she would start to implement some details, the traits of his face, his eyebrows, his nose, and the form of his mouth. His deep and dark irises. 

The expression of his face slowly morphed though, images of the first night superimposing on her imagination and when the serious face of her husband suddenly turned flushed in her head, she immediately opened her eyes, her own cheeks heating up, her breathing slightly irregular.

She shifted in discomfort and sipped on her cold tea for the aftereffect to disappear. Mu Rong An forced herself to think about something else, what triggered him into coming back here sounded good enough,

  

“How are things on your side?” she tried talking to him again.

In normalcy, he wasn’t supposed to be this free, that he actually had the time to come here was surprising. 

He was sweaty and her lips twitched a little when he bent and took hold of her own towel to wipe himself. When had he taken it out of her cases, she didn’t know. He looked at her as if to say ‘Spit out what you have to say’ but it was truce she told herself, she just smiled -a truthful one or a fake one, only she knew- and asked him to drink to rehydrate himself.

He stopped being stingy with his words and answered,

“Nothing.”

A lie, she immediately recognized.

Her smile grew warmer, not adding anything anymore, she just nodded.

He came closer though, took his upper cloth previously left there, not too far from her, then he froze, abruptly turning to her. Approaching, he leaned on her and actually sniffed, making her freeze instantly.

“What’s this smell?” He asked and she was quite happy that she didn’t yet have the time to put on her earrings. Who knew if he was familiar with poison’s smell?

“Just the smell of the repelling incense, it’s really strong so even washed it stays on the clothes”.

That was true enough. That incense really did have a strong smell, however, by now she was so used to it that it didn’t matter anymore. At first, there had been some discomfort though and the lingering anger from this showed its neck as her voice, so delicate and sweet that it actually gave him goosebumps, resonated, 

“Would you rather have me been bitten by mosquitoes?”

“…” 

He still insisted, undeterred and heartless, without any thought of showing her any face, he said, 

“This one isn’t good, it stinks.”

The smile faltered and her hold on the cup tightened not trusting herself to not smash the thing on the floor by his feet. She herself knew the incense wasn't all that good. Those were low-quality ones that were found inside this very manor. The ones he provided for her. Something he apparently conveniently forgot. For if the one she was currently using was really stinking, the others left didn't have that much effect and she could hear those annoying flies at night when lighting them.

Her smile finally disappeared as she said flatly,

“This smell is still bearable enough, yours, dear, I fear isn’t anymore, can you lean out a bit?”

General Ru’s body froze and she saw his lips twitch. To be fair, he wasn’t stinking that much if nothing at all, it was just slightly uncomfortable to have him sniff her, talking about how much she was smelling. The rude and blunt man wasn't more polite not even for courtesy, why must she be?

His face black, he didn’t turn around at all as he directed himself towards the water room.

***

The carriage, which was to take her to the village, finally came. It wasn’t luxurious at all, quite a plain one. Well, a truce didn’t mean victory. Mu Rong An took two menservants and two women and they went to the market. There was no veil in her possession so she started by having the servant buy that, before going down the carriage. 

It was bustling and noisier than the environment she was used to but the smile she sported on was a triumphant one and for a good reason, she was finally out of the manor! She was feeling so suffocate there that even this place was a welcome break!

Since the man gave her almost free reign, let’s see how she’d buy whatever she felt like. Starting with clothes! Who cared about food? She needed to get out of her rugged clothes that were constantly reddening her delicate skin and finally wear something of good quality. Which was exactly what she did! Well, the quality wasn't what she was used to when growing up but it was far better than what she had been forced to wear this whole time!

Her smile, however, became strained once in front of a mirror. There was no mirror in the manor, so she was looking at her reflection for the first time in months. And for the first time in her life, she didn't like what she saw there.

Her eyes had bags under them, the long and silky hair she took pride in wasn't as beautifully trimmed as it used to be, there were knots she had been unable to comb and which hurt too much when force was applied so she didn't insist. Her skin didn't glow like usual, it was pale as if she was a bit sick. There were no ointments here or anything to put in her bath so even if she wanted to, she couldn't take care of it. Lifting her hands, she carefully looked at them. Using one to touch the other, to feel it. They were no longer as delicate as they used to be, they were a bit rough from the labor she had done these past weeks, full of scratches. It was quite disheartening. Mu Rong An forcefully closed her eyes when she felt the tears coming close to spilling.

It was going to be alright she told herself with a resolution, kissing her hands. She was going to be alright. When she opened her eyes again, the smile returned to her face and she fiddled with other things in the shop, quite decided to remedy her appearance. 

When she finished buying a couple of ready-made clothes, ointments, perfumes, and whatnots, she then turned to pieces of jewelry before refraining. Well, it wasn't remorse that stopped her, just that she shouldn't push it, not now anyway. So, the pricy jewelry could wait; she was so used to having them taken off that she really didn’t mind since she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

It was time then, to think of what the manors actually needed. Which were many things! She had made a list before coming but had no illusion of being able to find the whole things here; and if she did, they wouldn't be as good as what could be found in the capital's market. However, it was still good to have beautiful tapestries and curtains than none at all. Since she didn’t know the price of those particular things, she had to turn to her servants. 

Mu Rong An knew the prices of goods at the capital but not at the borders but from what she understood, those things were cheaper here and she actually discovered a stingy side of herself as she started arguing over prices with merchants. It must be said that what she was buying was mainly for her own comfort since Ru Shan Yong wasn’t a permanent stayer at the manor; of course, if possible she would try to buy the maximum of things with the money that had been left with her moreover that she had to curb what was left of the money between decoration, cleaning tools, kitchen ingredients, and other necessities. And so, for those who tried to make her pay more than what she was willing to, she would present her brightest smile and argue seemingly amiably. Vendors had no way to lose their temper with such a calm person.

Such a thing took her almost the whole afternoon.

***

When most of the list was checked, she was quite satisfied. Along the way, she saw a store selling sweets. Mu Rong An didn’t really have a sweet tongue, that was mostly General Ru’s kind of thing. Something about giving energy; almost every member of his troops ate at least some sugar cane every other day. However, she did miss delicacies a little. Since coming here actually, she had had no dessert at all. Maybe it was to get back at her for taking his fruits and sweets on the road but every time the meals were delivered on those selected days, there weren’t any sweets at all!

She felt a tad sour though, that it wouldn’t be where she used to buy hers. At the capital, the famous ‘Delicate Delicacy’ store knew her taste very well and would usually lessen the amount of sugar for her commands. In the end, despite where it was, she still wanted to taste it. Her previous burned cooking curved her likings a bit and for now, she was craving sweets. She would deal with the sugar level later. That was her thought.

However, as fast as she personally took the bag from the vendor, a child of ten or twelve maybe tried to snatch the bag, her veil tearing and falling in the commotion. She had one of her servants stop him while she reprimanded him. He had, apparently wanted to take them as they were displayed in the store but unfortunately, she bought the whole thing. Caught red-handed he struggled and insulted her unceremoniously before, at the end of his rope and in resignation, starting to tear up and cry like the child he was. He was saying things about his mother being sick. Some passer-by’s hearts softened while Mu Rong An’s polite smile grew warm and wide. The manservant who was holding the boy looked at her, but she still had to give the order to release the person, so he could only hold on as Mu Rong An addressed the child once again.

“You’re this big, can’t you think of a better lie or is your mother teaching you how to swindle people like that?”

People were gathering around them already. She didn’t mind causing a commotion, the name that would be smeared wouldn’t be hers. It was a retaliation as good as any, her bitter ego said.

The child stopped crying a bit before tearing up even more pitifully swearing on whoever-he-could-think-of's head that he was saying the truth. His poor mother was deathly sick so he wanted to please her with some sweets.

“Is that so?" Mu Rong An turned to the servant holding the bag. "Pack three parts aside” she caught sight of the child's eyes brightening before adding, "now try telling the truth for me to hear and you can have it," smiling she didn't forget, "some apologies to accompany it all would be welcome too." 

She was being difficult and didn’t mind one bit, the boy cried even more and she didn’t yield in at all. Truthfully speaking what she was after wasn't the truth, she could care less about it. He wanted sweets so he tried to take it since he didn't have the money- if there was more to the story she wasn't interested in knowing. However, she had yet to receive her apologies. In his rants earlier, he dared criticized her face. On any other day she wouldn't have minded too much but today, today, that insult was particularly displeasing to hear. Her reflection in the mirror had been far too unpleasant and she was a bit vain but she needed compliments at this moment, certainly not insults. It wasn’t that she did suddenly become ugly as he said, but just that her pride was demanding reparation for such prejudice on this sour day! 

“What’s happening here?” asked someone.

The voice was fluent and light, and its beholder was a thin and beautiful man who had a sword by his left side. 

“He tried to steal for his sick mother, the poor boy” responded someone.

“That noblewoman is heartless,” whispered another, acknowledged by most.

Looking at the boy who was crying more and more, and the woman who was leaning on him but apparently had no intention to free him, the man had enough. From where they were they couldn't hear what was being said by the woman but obviously, whatever she was saying was just torturing this child for his tears were even more affluent now.

"Aren't you lot going to do something? She is tormenting him!"

The crowd mumbled incomprehensible things, shaking their head and at last, a man's hesitant voice was heard.

"And what will you have us do? He did indeed try to steal from others!"

"The one who shall punish him is still not her!"

Resolutely, he walked to the servant, yanking the boy out of his grasp.

“That’s enough” he shouted putting the teenager behind himself, effectively shielding him.

Mu Rong An looked up at the vehemently speaking man, valiantly dressed. She narrowed her eyes, carefully taking in the beauty in front of her, and on a hunch, let her gaze linger on the man's chest. It wasn't like she could confirm it, but it wasn't like his voice sounded very manly so she rather trusted her feeling on this. This newcomer was certainly the female lead of the second arc, Feng Xi. She blinked a couple of times at that realization then her gaze went to the boy who was hiding behind his savior and recognition flickered in her eyes. This child must then be Yan Mi.  

If she remembered it right, in the book too, Feng Xi protected the boy against the vendor when he caught the stealer red-handed. This female lead was a trusting person so she quickly believed him only to later discover the lie. But in the end, after a fair share of adventures together, she took the orphan boy as her brother and he was even present on her wedding day, later even entering General Ru's army.

Mu Rong An pursued her lips and took in hand the veil that her servant was presenting her, placing it back on her face. 

The person in front of her was her husband’s soulmate. Her lips curved into a warm smile but only she knew what she truly felt in the end.

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Chapter 1: The stranger in her house

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The deep dark eyes which used to look at her with malice and hatred were now looking at her with wonder and uncertainty. She was a little afraid. Taking care of him while he was unconscious was easy… and left her the soothing feeling of cleansing the bad things she did previously. But now, he was wide awake and she had no idea how to interact with him.

The man in her memory wasn’t talkative, rather ruthless and difficult to befriend but he was still good at heart and for a time they had had a semblance of friendship. However, the one in front of her, aside from the fact that his face was similar to that man, she really knew nothing about him, not even his name.

“J… Jiao Long” she gasped, coming closer, a smile on her face, “how... how do you feel after this long sleep?”

He frowned. Deeply. He tried to talk, but his voice wouldn’t come out and he had to clear his throat twice before he said with a bit of difficulty,

“Who?”

“Let me get you a glass of water,”

He eyed the glass for a long time before ultimately downing it in one go. Min Shan just stood there not knowing what to do, suddenly feeling like a child, all anxious and pressured by his gaze. Mister nudged her feet and she crouched to stroke the dog. 

"Who are you?" He asked audibly this time and Min Shan took her gaze back from the little dog to him. 

She realized now that actually, she didn't know this person. She was so used to calling him Jiao Long that she forgot it wasn’t his real name. She had given that name when the doctor had asked. At that time, the local hospital didn’t have enough funds to take this man in, not in the state he was in. They were going to send him away, where it wouldn’t be sure that he’d be treated. Not really knowing why she impulsively stepped in and claimed that he was a distant cousin who came to visit her and lost his way. 

She couldn't help but blame this lie on his resemblance with Long Rui and she was also the one who actually found him on the road. It wasn't that she felt responsible for him but it was just that the striking similarity with how Long Rui and Long Wei had once saved her former self, wouldn't let her leave this man alone. 

Now though, she was unsure of what to do. Taking mister in her arm, she sat on the chair, gently petting the dog on her lap. All along, he had followed her movements with his eyes.

“How are you feeling? ...I am Luo Min Shan, the one who found you…"

The man scanned the surrounding with his eyes and frowned, 

"Where are we?"

"...In my house for now."

He abruptly jerked his face to her, a question on his face. 

“Do we know each other?" He asked although his voice didn't sound like they should know each other. "...Your voice sounds familiar”

“...I spend a long time talking to you while you were sleeping.”

The conversation was quite stiff and awkward. A little uncomfortable, she aimed to change the topic.

“So… what’s your name?”

“Didn’t you find my ID and my passport somewhere?”

She shook her head.

“A bag?”

She shook it again.

“Ah” he looked at the roof and released a sigh keeping silent for a moment. For a minute there she really that he was going to… to cry? There had been in his eyes a deep sorrow and a sense of solitude that could almost materialize itself.

“It seemed I have forgotten!”

Min Shan blinked at this sudden exclamation. That it was a lie was quite obvious however Min Shan didn’t refute him.

“Then... do you mind if I call you Jiao Long for now?”

He looked at her, the sadness slowly vanishing from his face, he said like a liberation,

"No... It's quite a good name. I like it."

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The Bored Girl Chapter 1: Britannia Annabeth Delacour

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It was the sound of a bird pecking her windows that woke her up. Stirring from slumber, she blinked a couple of times to adjust her eyes to the current luminosity.

“The fever subsided”, she heard an elderly masculine voice say, sensing a hand touching her forehead, “she is going to be alright now.”

A grunt came in response to him and Lyanna could finally see clearly. She tried to sit up, but the hand left her forehead and gently push her back,

“Take it easy miss Delacour, you should lie down a little more.”

The person speaking was an elder man with quite a long white beard, he was imposingly muscular but looking at her with gentle eyes. She frowned a bit, unable to recognize him and turned her head to look at the other one in the room with them.

On the other side of her bed, there was another elder, with stern facial features. Compared to the first, he was on the slender side; this one didn't have a beard but his long hair was white of old age. He resembled her grandfather a lot and for a moment she was going to exclaim to him, but the joy in her eyes left as quickly as it came. It wasn’t her grandfather. This man was frowning too much and was way too unapproachable to be her gentle, loving, and always smiling grandfather. He had, in his being, something of an aristocrat with the clothes to match this assumption.

Blinking twice, she looked at them both again, but opening her eyes they were still here. In the end, she asked in a voice she herself could barely hear,

“Who are you?”

Even though the medical staff changed from time to time, they were always presented to her long in advance and she never saw these two people.

The man, who resembled her grandfather more than she was comfortable with, had his frown deepened, and he turned to the person closest to her, asking,

“Is she really alright?”

“Are you hurt somewhere?” the other man busily asked and Lyanna shook her head, “do you feel dizzy?” she shook it again, “what do you remember last?”

She wanted to say, being in her bedroom before falling due to another seizure but she suddenly glanced at her hands and shook. Small little hands they were. She rose abruptly startling the elder with a long beard, sitting on the bed, she shook off the thick blanket from her.

Tiny body in an unfamiliar nightgown. Her physique was so small, like that of a child. Her eyes widened and darted to the room. A big and luxurious room draped in elegant and costly tapestry, pricey poufs, big windows with intricate curtains... Heaven! Even this bed had its own fine set of curtains albeit they were folded for now. 

There was nothing she could recognize in this room! Stuttering, her eyes widened more if possible and she asked, scared witless, 

“What happened to me?” The voice of a little child came from her mouth and she blanched putting a hand on her throat. She herself was unaware of how much she was shaking.

“Calm down,” said the man pushing her to the bed again, “you had an …” he glanced at the other person in the room who slightly shook his head thus he finished by saying “accident” without explaining more. “Thankfully, you are alright though”,

Alright? Lyanna didn’t feel alright at all!

“Who are you? What happened to me?” The panic was thick in her voice and the man glanced at the aristocrat which turned Lyanna's attention to him “who is he?”, annoyed by her own unrecognizable voice, she said, “and who am I? What happened to my body!” in a sort of ironical way. Because obviously, there was no way she was 'herself' again.

***

The man tugged her to her bed and covered her with the blanket, patiently explaining to her, he was a doctor and they were now in Rosacrea. She was inside the house of her grandfather, the duke of Tulip. Apparently, that person one with a stern expression was her grandfather and her, she was Britannia Annabeth Delacour. That doctor had actually taken her literally and really explained her identity. And the answer only led Lyanna to panic even more.

It took her a while and many attempts to flee, to ultimately understand that it was indeed real. She was Lyanna no more. From a teenager, she became a child, a six years old child. And the differences were huge. The stark contrast, besides her age, was her appearance. She had now a vibrant red hair color that she apparently took after her mother, forest green eyes that she shared with said grandfather.

That particular man wasn’t a talkative person, completely different from the grandfather she dearly missed. When the doctor had started to explain things, the other man had left the room after briefly glancing at her. Though he wasn't her real grandfather, he looked so much like him that Lyanna couldn't help but feel abandoned and had to bite her lips to stop herself from calling him back.

The doctor seemed to understand her plight and lightly tapped the hands that were clutching the blankets in the guise of support. He told her a bit more about herself and that she was to wait for her father’s return in this mansion. As for her mother, he briefly told her that she wouldn’t come, for the time being, adding nothing more to it.

***

Lyanna was slowly digesting and accepting the new reality she was now living in but needed time to adjust. For the servants of the house, that she was always in her bedroom unwilling to take a step outside was the expression of her loss even if she couldn’t remember. For them, the shock of her mother’s and brother’s deaths in front of her had been so great that she lost her memory. Added to that the fact that she couldn’t see the father whom she was always attached to, they could only sigh while pitying her.

The duke of tulip wasn’t a man of many words and didn’t console her at all, they felt grief for the child, not that the duke was any less pitiable. After all, the poor man lost his wife just a year ago and now, only a mere couple of days ago he lost his daughter and his sole grandson who ended up as war’s casualties. That family was just too pitiful!

They just hoped now that the general won’t die on the battlefield and will be able to come back safe and sound to his daughter and father-in-law.

***

Lyanna rummaged through her bedroom, searching for some kind of rational explanation. She paused when she saw, inside of one of the drawers, a necklace, the shape of a heart, with a hide. It was made of pure gold and had an exquisite tulip design engraved. Inside the space, there were two pictures, one for each side. One was a man. He had dark blonde hair with a smiling face and golden eyes. The other side was a woman. A beautiful red-haired woman with a gentle smile. Her mother, certainly, for there were striking resemblances with 'this body' she got to see in the mirror. So, she concluded, the other must be 'her' father. Those people were pleasant to look at but beyond that, Lyanna couldn’t say more. There was in her heart no attachment, no pain, no longing, nothing. She tried hard but couldn’t access to what she thought was the original body’s memories and in the end stopped trying.

***

After thinking about it for a long time and testing many hypotheses, Lyanna finally concluded that maybe, she really did transmigrate; that her soul entered the body of this little child whose grandfather had similar traits to hers. She, after all, dearly missed the man and upon her death, wished to be reunited. Maybe that was the link which brought her here.

It never occurred to her, that actually, it could really be that she lost her memories and the only ones she could remember now were those before her rebirth in this world. For Lyanna, she started her new life in this new mansion the day she woke up from a dreadful fever that certainly claimed the child’s life.

At first, she really didn’t know where she had transmigrated to. She didn’t think much of it anyway and slowly started learning things from scratch. Lyanna didn't exist anymore, so she must now learn to be a daughter of a general and granddaughter of a duke.

How was she to know that she was inside that one book she actually didn’t read until the end? A long-forgotten gift from three years ago. That aside, how could she even remember that book with the irrelevant information she had? Really, she couldn’t be blamed for Britannia Annabeth Delacour hadn’t been an influential character in there but someone who was just mentioned in the passing, to emphasize the heroine’s beauty. That name appeared just like ten times in the book, maybe even less.

The book, ‘In the name of love’, wasn’t one that really appealed to her and she would only realize the truth of her condition far in the future when the time to enter school would come. For Lyanna, at this moment, she just transmigrated into another world where she wasn’t sick, she had a stern but loving grandfather and for the biggest part of her childhood, she lived as the normal girl she never was.

For Lyanna, now Annabeth, it was the end of those never-ending days spent on the bed, the end of constant pain, terrible seizures and the wait for death. She was finally given the chance to enjoy life and she was going to make the most of it. 

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Smiling Mage Prologue

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He was lonely, extremely so. 

In his forest, there were no sounds to accompany him at all, no green plant, no animal, no life. Everything was dead around him. Dark, dry, and dead.

Because he was breathing. 

The forest had been called the dead forest. No living thing could be found on its whole perimeter. A perimeter that was constantly increasing.

Because of his growing powers. 

There was a violet-like miasma leaking out of his enormous body, a poisonous miasma that brought many heroes here, to kill the damned demon lord. 

The ground was pitch black, the trees had long lost their foliage and were just empty trunks, hollow shells that strong wind sometimes crashed. If he lifted his head, the sky was always murky and lifeless. A thick mist from which the sun rays couldn't pierce. Never a bird to be seen, let alone sing him anything.

He had no name.

No one ever called him. Or maybe he just couldn't remember. Only if been branded demon lord counted. It didn't. Not for him. He was no one’s lord. No one was here to answer his calls, to return his voice, or to engage in a conversation with him.

In the forest, which ground's darkness was blackening even more as long as he was alive, only a small part was what he had claimed. And where he lived. A cave. Quite small by his estimation, a labyrinth by the humans'.

Here, in this cave, he laid for more than a decade now. Quite tired to still be alive. Feeling less and less the desire to fight for it.

The more time passed by, the more his powers were increasing and the more the miasma was leaking out. Some humans who came here prophecized that he was going to be the reason their world would end. So, for the greater good, he had to die.

The world didn’t need him. Didn’t want him.

He couldn't remember at which point he stopped being a regular demon and became what he was now. It hadn't always been like that. He knew it hadn't, or maybe he just thought... It was so long that his memories couldn't be trusted anymore.

He had gone as far as he could though, had tried to further himself from their civilization. How was it his fault that their own growing population was forcing them to broaden their own borders and clashed with his?

Wasn’t he the one supposed to be angry? For all his trying in staying away, it was still they who came, wanting to invade the place he could call his own. They wanted to live? Then they should just stay away!

Footsteps resounded in the hollow silence. A powerful opponent came again. This one was stronger, far stronger than the previous ones he had fought in the past. However, contrary to the past, the desire to live didn't reside in him anymore. Thus, he didn't move, didn't feel like it at all. He looked on, as the most powerful one charged on, breaking the lawyers of defense barrier that reside in the cave. Didn't move still, as the cave's automatic defense mechanisms were being defeated and destroyed, his home ravaged. The walls were trembling and breaking under the multiple holes they suffered.

The group of five intruders emerged victoriously and finally entered his personal chambers where he sat on his chair. The so-called demon lord had a smile on his face as his blood-red eyes landed on the sword the leading man was holding. He was quite familiar with the weapon. In his decades of life, it was the only thing that successfully managed to wound him, breaking down the barrier around his body and entering deep in his flesh. He could still feel the pain of those yesteryears' scars.

It was a peculiar weapon, indeed. Each time he killed the one wielding it, the sword would glow and disappear, only for him to see it again in the hands of the next person coming to take his life. The enchanted holy sword, this time, however, felt like it had bathed with tremendous energy, for it was pulsating fiercely as though calling for blood. His blood. Could the weapon be holding grudges for all those defeats it suffered at his hands, he wondered fleetingly.

The light coming from the sword kept on growing as if wishing for him to do the same, to fight back. The weapon, he knew, had a will of its own and was wishing for a fair fight. But then again, why should the demon lord respond to its caprice?

His apathetic eyes looked on, as the three men and two women surrounded him, casting immobilization magic while at the same time trying to deal with the miasma that was weakening them. The closer they got from his body, the thicker it was after all, thus, all the more dangerous. The barrier around his body repelled their attacks. Some of them flew and landed a few feet away, heavily wounded. It was a protective mechanism, the demon lord needn't controlling it directly for it to work.

Still, he didn't use that opportunity to get rid of these intruders, instead, he let them the time to collect themselves. He looked on, as four of them passed their remaining mana to the leader. Said man then stood to face him with determination in his eyes and a certain stubbornness as though he didn't care for his life so long as he successfully conducts the mission he had been given.

The demon lord didn't move still and his lips lifted a bit. The power residing in the sword grew as the man injected more mana into it, but the sword itself seemed to dim rather than shine. It was unhappy.

Who cared to play with a sword spirit? Without any intention to do anything other than sit, the demon lord actually welcomed the assault and let himself be impaled by the enchanted sword. With his death, the miasma slowly started to disappear.

The whole country rejoiced. The hero killed the demon lord.

Ah, he thought, with his last breath looking at the now dull holy sword, 'let it be known that it was a suicide'. Though no one heard, the holy sword appeared to lose more and more of its shininess.

As his mind was fading away to be forever gone, the demon lord actually caught far away sounds of someone crying for him, begging him for forgiveness. It was good, he thought, someone was actually going to miss him. He wondered who. 

His body went cold, life leaving him, nonetheless, his heart was lighter than it had been his whole centuries of existence.

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The Smiling Mage And His Familiar

Description:

A cliché retelling. The OP -overpowered- protagonist who gains the most powerful familiar. 

Well, it just so happens that he doesn’t fight, nor does he have an adventurous bone in his body. 

And so, to resume it all, this is the story of a previously scary demon lord who is reincarnated as a human -sort of- and gains a sick familiar. Bonding time, bonding time, that’s what it’s all about.

Genres: Friendship, magic, training, learning, romance, school, fae, fairy, spirits

Table Of Contents

Prologue
Chapter 1: Andel Myur
Chapter 2: Family Life
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
...
Epilogue

Chapter 6: ! Paying Back

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One day, though, as she thought such days would continue, she ate something that made her pass out. Waking up, she found herself in the dark, her feet and hands bound to the bed. There was a smell lingering in the room, the intoxicating smell of incense that had certainly been soaked in aphrodisiac, for she was feeling hot and bothered all over. Her breathing was becoming heavier and quicker with each passing second.

She heard footsteps. There was someone in the room with her, and the person had apparently remarked that she had woken up. He walked up to her side, stopping by her head. Mu Rong An couldn't see. Her eyes were bandaged.  

Wasn't he going to talk at all? The silence was deafening.

She understood she thought. Ru Shan Yong was maybe not as cool, calm, and collected as she thought him to be initially. He could be losing his equanimity. Nothing he did really had a satisfying impact on her, so he had come back to the basis, a tit for tat, a tooth for a tooth. She had had her way with his body like she wanted, now he’d have his like he wants.

No, actually not, she contradicted herself again. That was the aphrodisiac thinking. That general wasn't like that. But no matter how hard she thought in this speck of time, her thinking always came back to that and when the silence prolonged, she said, in a voice that she herself doubted to be hers,

“There was really no need for all the trouble", she tried to pull on the ropes, but they didn't budge a bit, her breathing became even more labored by her efforts, "didn’t this wife already say that I didn’t mind? I am far more than willing to cooperate if you need me to. No need for the ropes.”

The person didn’t answer though.

As it prolonged, she actually grew scared of others, far more detestable possibilities. Ropes, aphrodisiacs, unknown persons. Her breathing quickened and now it had nothing to do with the aphrodisiac. She was panicking. In her mind replayed how she was supposed to die and an unadulterated fear grew in her. Expanding the more she thought about it. What to do? Blindly and carelessly provoking him, did General Ru actually end up annoyed somehow and sold her to a brothel?

“Who are you?” 

But the person still wouldn’t talk. He walked a little farther and she heard muffled sounds. Sounds, she imagined his clothes making as they fell on the floor. She tugged more fiercely on the ropes, not even feeling the pain of her skin being so madly pulled. Her mind was feverish and scared.

The sounds stopped as she grew more agitated and the person came back to her side. Fingers, first, touched her cheek, after which the back of his hand, before it slowly became the palm, almost gently caressing her face, as though to soothe her. It was a callused hand, warmer than her cheek. 

She paused a bit, whispering the general's name, to which the person stilled. Just for a sec, before the hand left her face and sooner than she could ask herself where he had gone, her clothes were slowly being peeled open, layer by layer. The silence turned her almost hysterical,

“This isn’t proportional at all!” she shouted, “Ru Shan Yong! You lousy general, I didn’t bandage your eyes, neither did I give you to another. Ru Shan Yong!”

She was trashing, her heart thumping, taken in a panic mode, all reasoning having long flown out of her mind, the only thing left was a nightmare she had had some months ago which led her to where she was in the end. 

The person stilled again at her shouting, pausing in taking off her inner robe.  There was a rumble. The person's hands were actually on her stomach, she clearly felt him shaking before he guffawed, laughing breathily.

This tone, in the end, it was just him? Ru Shan Yong?

He leaned on her, laughter in his voice still, his familiar voice brushed her ears, his breath warm on her cheek,

“You still know how to be scared!” 

She actually let out a long breath she didn't even realize she was holding, a long and deep sigh of relief. 

His hands behind her head unhook the bandages of her eyes. She blinked the moisture that was weighing her eyelashes but it still kept on flowing out anyway. Mu Rong An still couldn't see anything. It was dark. The very room hadn't been lit with any light at all so she couldn’t make up his face. When taking off the small band, he touched the wetness of her face, and Mu Rong An felt the bed dipped in a little as he sat. His hands patiently brushed her overflowing tears away. After a moment, the terror left her eyes and the reflexive tears finally stopped.

He had an almost gentle tone as he reprimanded,

“What are you crying and shouting for? Isn’t it what I should have done from the start?" The warm palm left her hand to play with her hair, "drugging you, bounding you, intoxicating you… and playing with your body independently whether you were willing or not.”

There was in his voice a sort of melancholia Mu Rong An couldn’t understand. Her fears cleared her head enough for her to distinguish it. These methods were after all, not his style at all. Which was why he wedded her to start with!

“What happened?” she asked unconsciously, her voice still trembling a little from the previous emotion. He stilled before actually lying by her side, burying his face in her neck, inhaling deeply. There was in his breath the lingering smell of wine and something else. Something she couldn't recognize. He shifted his head's position quite a time, searching for a better place to put it and My Rong An chuckled a bit, his nose was a little ticklish against her skin and by the feel of it, he had stubble he didn't shave.

She felt much better now, so persisted with her question for, after all, he was quite strange today,

“I… wonder", he finally said after a moment, shifting his head once again, his mouth on her neck, "now it’s my time to have my ways with you I suppose!”

As though to affirm that, he actually kissed her neck which brought an involuntary gasp from Mu Rong An. His lips were somewhat cold on her hot body.

As though reminded, the excess of adrenaline provoked by her scare started to lose effect, and the aphrodisiac was once again taking reign of her brain. This was a way stronger one than what she had used on him. She groaned at the differences, not really liking that her own idea was played against her. She still wanted to see him though,

“I didn’t let you in the dark, you could clearly see my face.”

He chuckled a bit, light, pleasing vibrations against her collar even though his fuzz was pricking her slightly. He was way more clear-headed than she had thought him to be, as he still had it in him to keep sound reasoning,

“You broke the light pearl of your room this morning and only you know what you did with the candles. How can I possibly light the room for you?”

She had indeed broken that light pearl trying to polish it today, as for the candles, she just hid those away, wanting to get a reason to force him to either come back or have him send someone goes buy more to which she could have added other things to be bought as well.

As his lips got lower, her clothes seemed to be on the way, and he started to take this one off as well. The cold air made her shiver a little; his lips were back on her body again, and she felt something already poking at her.

“Free my hands,” she more ordered than begged and he lifted his head from her collarbone to come back to her face, so close that their hot breaths were mingling together.

“My hands weren’t freed,” he said, prying her stubborn mouth open with a thumb to kiss her hard and deep. Almost like a punishment.

He himself had a layer of clothing on him still, which he took off while kissing her, flinging it somewhere in the room where it landed. His long hair was unbound, she could feel a curtain of it on her arm. She quite wanted to touch it, to let her hand roam in it and feel its coolness with her fingers. It was slightly damped as though he had just taken a bath. 

“Un…bound me,” she said between heavy breathing.

But his mouth was back on hers again, commanding silence.

In the dark, he couldn’t exactly see but he let his body do as it pleased. He was kissing her collar, down to her breast, sucking, licking, seemingly easily remembering what she did to him and Mu Rong An wondered with the bit of sense left in her if he actually used to think about it a lot to be remembering it so easily. She couldn't help the startled gasp when he took the small mount in his mouth nor the way it merged into a moan as he bit and played with it. By the time he went to the other one, she was panting, making short, whimpering sounds. 

Was the aphrodisiac making her more sensitive than ever? She would put it on it. He couldn't be that good for his second time. She did have a book and he, he had nothing at all yet was still better!

At one point he really did free her but her brain had yet to register the fact. She couldn't move even if she wanted to. His tongue, his fingers, his hands, they were everywhere at the same time.

She cried she felt her lower self getting wetter. If he could see, no face had been redder than hers at this moment. Her breath left her in another hiss and he took in his mouth the remnant of her moan. Tongues dancing, trying to taste every bit of her.

That was it, she thought. The pleasure, oh, the marvelous pleasure, and how good it was.

He wasn't any less affected. His groans were rougher, he made low, broken noises against her throat as he slid inside her. Full, firm, and hot. Thick and hard as steel and soft like velvet. Her high shriek of surprise turned into a sound that could only be described as indecent. 

He still had yet to move though. He was patient, letting her adapt to his size and it was she, who buckled her hips and induced the first move. She wanted, needed him to move. He groaned at the sharp thrust and was kissing her again, his teeth pulling her lower lip.

He started with slow rhythmless thrusts, a harmless tease that had her writhing into his unhurried pace. She was desperate for more, her body twisting as she attempted to rise. But he wouldn't let her. He pushed her back down, restricting her movements. Her eyes flickered shut, her head rolling backward as her voice rose. Then she was coming again, buckling into his member. His lips went back to her own, muffling the desperate sounds. She pushed him a little to catch her breath, but he was moving again. His thrusts this time wilder, quicker. She came again, and it wasn't long before she felt the equal build of his pleasure; she heard it in his voice, the tensing of his muscles, the thrumming of his member buried inside her. She felt his edge, a throated growl, his hips bucking forward, face buried in her chest, his climax pushing her over to another one of her own. 

And both of them were left panting. Her tongue darted out, and in the complete dark, it was almost like he could see, for he was kissing her again, equally as desperate as she.

It was completely different. Way better. For her at least. And if that was what he felt that time too, she had to wonder why he was angry to start with!

He got up. She made no motion to move. Too tired and too lazy for that. But she did miss his warmth.

‘It isn’t identical’ she thought, ‘I did it twice and slept by your side’. But he’s already gone and she just had her bedding to lay down with. Somehow, it was cold.

However, he came back sometime later though, and contrary to her who had cleaned him in the same room, he lifted her and went with her to the water room where there was hot water waiting. It was way more pleasant than the cold one she had bathed him with that night, and she suddenly felt extremely grateful for the differences!

She didn't mind and was not the least bit interested in helping him, she pretended to be asleep, letting him deal with her body, not making it easier for him one bit.

Though she was pretty sure he knew she wasn't really asleep.

***

The next morning, she woke up sore, way more than she had been when she was the one in command. It never occurred to her though, that he would still be here when she’d be waking up. At one point, she really did fall asleep so Mu Rong An had no idea when exactly they came back to the bed.

The sky was still dark outside, slowly turning blue. Birds could already be heard chirping, what woke her though, was the annoying sound of the rooster. A rooster whose presence wasn't there the previous day. 

She ruffled her hair and puffed a breath. They were messier than they had ever been with clots everywhere. She was feeling sorry for herself just at the thought of brushing them! Something she was forced to do herself because of a certain person.

She tilted her head to his side, wondering a little if she closed his nose and mouth, would he suffocate in his sleep? No, he wouldn't but she could still try to mess with his hair too, after all, she was pretty sure it was because of him that hers were in this state! She reached out both hands and halted as he shifted his position before deciding against it.

Trying to get up, the cover fell and she actually found herself completely naked. There were love bites all over her body. She couldn't help but flush at the reminder. Thinking back, Ru Shan Yong was really strange. She was sure that he too, was venting -in a sense- or had he eaten something? What? She didn’t know. Wanting to even the score with her yet not knowing how to battle with a woman and in the end, taking her own arms against herself? That wasn’t his way at all!

But what had been done, had been done! Was she supposed to be angry? This was something she herself had started, and even at this very moment, she couldn’t find it in her to say that she regretted what she did, if, under the same circumstances, she would surely do the same thing all over again.

However, those kinds of things not being his style meant that there was a reason that brought him to her bed. At this particular moment, she didn't really care what it was, her sole thinking was that she could find her way out of this stupid punishment he had designed for her. She could try and take back all the privileges she was born with, or if not, some of them.

Her gaze lingered a bit on his face. There were bags under his eyes. Quite dark. She didn’t know what was happening in the camps but he seemed awfully tired; He shifted and she was quite certain that he was awake now, so she said, with a voice slightly coarse,

“This time, certainly, the scores are evened!... Then can we call for a truce?”

He slowly sat too, and she watched as the cover shifted and fell on his thighs, revealing his upper body. She took her gaze back, only hearing him cracking his neck to better wake himself up. He looked briefly in her direction, then around the room, where still laid some clothes,

He said in a thick voice that was even huskier,

“…Fine”

… That… As simple as this? Was it really fine? Was it really okay?

Hmph, if he wanted to let it go as simply as that who was she to prevent him? If anything, she was going to try and find even more benefits for herself!

She tried to talk again but found herself with little voice, almost gone and she had to clear her throat, twice. A blush crept while she thought back about all her shoutings the night before. Even if his guards were not half as good as him in martial arts, they must still have heard.

“I want my servants back!”

A moment of silence. 

“...You’ll have to wait for a month for them, … meanwhile, others will come to serve you.”

***

Once he talked, he was actually someone fast to act. He had people fetch for them immediately and they came before the sun was high in the sky. Nine servants. It wasn’t really an adequate number for such a large manor, but she would make do with it for the time being. 

It was honestly good to not have to do things by herself again, and ordering people was something that she actually missed.

She had them cleaned the courtyard she resided in, inside out. For the other one, well, it wasn’t urgent. The master could jelly well sleep here for the time being!

She was actually in such a good mood that she chose to come and sit, watching him train with his sword while waiting for the tea she ordered to be brought. He had simple black clothes on and as she paid more attention, she remarked that his face had no stubble. He had, apparently shaved the night before. 

Her smile was more genuine than ever as she was blabbering nonsensical nonsense to him, trying to see how far his patience with her would go or if he would end up snapping at her to shut up.

He really was someone who made her feel like playing with fire!

“…So, I don’t have to wash my own laundry anymore, nor cook... nor anything. If I knew it was this easy I would have suggested you take me way earlier… that is called marital rights! This wife wouldn’t dare refuse.”

His steps faltered and he turned to her. The tea set had long been deposed by her side and she was serving some for herself. 

His cold voice rang, completely different than the gentle one of the night before which was groaning and whispering nonsense in her ears softly.

“If you want things bought, buy them yourself, a carriage will come to you to help you to the village's market!”

She didn’t mind. Why would she? There was no way he could let her go alone, so her smile grew wider as she openly mocked him. His lips twitched and one had to wonder if General Ru wasn't as intimidating as he used to be.

Although Mu Rong An didn't mind going to the certainly bustling, noisy, maybe dirty, and quite possibly crowded market of the village, she still had to make a thing clear as she thought about something,

“I won’t disguise myself,” she told him, thinking of his love interests who liked to dress as men. She was a woman and the only thing she needed was a veil, “And to whoever asks, I’d say I’m your wife!”

This was clearly saying that she was going to exceed whatever amount of money he was going to give and take out his name as a warrant for other purchases.

This woman... really... give her an inch and she would take a mile...

He had actually paused to listen to her, releasing, in the end, a sigh, the very first one Mu Rong An heard him released and far from being the last through their lives together,

“Whether you can convince them of this would be by your own abilities!”

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