The Demon King’s Precious Little Angel - Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Celoa is Happy Again Then this is my home it

Celine stood to the side picking at a leaf for a while, squinting at the distance as if observing something. Once Celoa’s sobbing subsided, she slowly turned her head and gave Droville a meaningful, sideways glance, complaining:

“You should have just said so earlier. You just had to go and make him cry.”

Droville had just handed a handkerchief to Celoa, a trace of a smile still lingering in his eyes. He remained noncommittal toward Celine’s grumbling, casually smoothing over the jade ornament at his waist as he looked toward the city walls.

“Why is no one here yet? Your skill at controlling magic birds has regressed significantly.”

Celine tossed aside the mangled leaf, crossing her arms with a frown. After a long pause, she replied, “None of them are at the palace. I don’t know which idiot took all the birds away without remembering to leave even one behind.”

Celoa listened for a while before finally grasping the situation. He looked left and right, then cautiously approached and tugged gently at Droville’s hem. Once the man’s gaze fell upon him, he gathered his courage to suggest:

“How about we just go into the city and take a carriage?”

Celine burst out laughing. She knelt down, her long, curly hair swaying before Celoa’s eyes as a faint fragrance filled his nose.

Celoa felt a light tap on his forehead—not heavy, but filled with a teasing warmth.

“Sweetie, home is very far away. Taking a carriage would take days and nights; it’s too much of a waste of time.”

Celoa blinked, his little face scrunching up in deep thought. It really is that far? Is there a faster way to travel in the Demon Realm? His seeking gaze naturally drifted toward Droville.

Droville felt his heart soften once again.

This feeling of being relied upon and trusted was somewhat addictive. He couldn’t help but savor the rare sensation.

“Dro? What do you say?” Celine coughed twice, asking with a grin.

Droville opened his hand and beckoned to Celoa, saying simply, “Come here.”

Celoa didn’t hesitate; he jogged two steps and lunged into Droville’s arms. A hand pressed against his head, and before he could react, he was tucked firmly into a warm embrace.

Wind seemed to whistle past his ears as Droville warned: “Don’t open your eyes.”

Celoa obediently buried his head and didn’t look elsewhere. He silently counted in his heart; he hadn’t even reached thirty when he felt a sudden pat on his head.

“We’re here, Celoa. You can come down now.”

He looked up dazed and met Celine’s smiling eyes. Behind her stood a palace that looked understated yet luxurious.

Celoa rubbed his eyes in surprise and looked again. The palace was still standing there quietly. He couldn’t help but widen his eyes, his voice chirping with excitement: “Celine, Dro, did you use magic? How did we get here so fast?”

He leaned his cheek forward, pressing close to Celine with the expression of one sharing a big secret. He whispered mysteriously, “We flew here, didn’t we?”

Celine grinned and shot a quick glance at Droville before lowering her voice to “confess”: “Little Celoa, you are very lucky. You just went through a spatial jump. During this time, you rode a very expensive, very rare ‘vehicle’.”

“Hmm?” Celoa tilted his head in confusion, pulling his face back to lean against Droville’s chest. He questioned: “It wasn’t a tool. Dro carried me back.”

He raised his voice to emphasize: “Dro held me the whole time.”

Celine truly couldn’t hold it in anymore. She clutched her stomach and laughed, affirming through her giggles: “Yes, you’re right. Dro held you the whole time.”

Celoa went quiet, his expression looking quite aggrieved. He felt like he was being brushed off; Celine kept laughing at him even though he was telling the truth.

Then, Droville’s deep voice rang in his ear.

“Welcome to my Demon Palace. Let us reintroduce ourselves. I am Droville, the current Demon King of the Demon Realm.”

Droville paused inexplicably, shot a cool glance at Celine, and continued: “Are you willing to stay here?”

Celoa was completely stunned. His mind was in a whirl. After a long while, he let out a slow “Ah,” his eyes darting around as if trying to see everything clearly in this short span of time.

“Dro, you’re so amazing. This place is so far from the forest…” After thinking it over, he offered a belated compliment, completely failing to grasp the deeper implications of Droville’s words.

This is the Demon Realm, and he is the Demon King. Everything he represents is the polar opposite of the Human and Heavenly Realms. Even so, does he want to stay?

Celoa simply tightened his grip on Droville’s arm, looking around curiously at this place that was so different from the environment he had lived in for the past few years. After a few seconds, he retracted his gaze with satisfaction and marveled:

“Dro, everything here is so black and red.”

Droville hummed softly. Just as he was about to explain something, he heard the child’s unmasked voice of envy and longing.

“So cool.”

“Dro, your place is really cool. It’s… handsome.”

Droville’s gaze softened. He patted Celoa’s head and reminded him: “You will be living here from now on.”

“Wow,” Celoa’s eyes brightened even more as he cheered softly. “Then my home is so cool.”

Droville held Celoa, having no intention of putting him down, and walked straight into the palace. As they approached the main entrance, the doors swung open slowly and automatically.

Celoa stared intently at the interior of the palace. At that moment, he didn’t know that he would be living here for a very, very long time.

As soon as Droville returned, he was buried under a mountain of official business. Having been away for less than a week, his desk was piled high with letters from all corners of the Demon Realm. Upon opening them, he found they were mostly trivial matters. He rubbed his temples with a headache, exerting great effort to suppress the urge to kill someone, though his expression inevitably turned sour.

“Where is everyone else? As soon as I left, they all left too?”

Celine tidied the documents efficiently. Hearing this, her expression turned a bit odd. After a moment of hesitation, she decided to sell out her colleagues: “They did leave, but they all had reasons.”

Droville raised an eyebrow, asking with interest: “What reasons? If they can convince me, I won’t mark them for truancy.”

Celine coughed. “The Left and Right Special Assistants—they went on their honeymoon.”

Droville frowned in disbelief. “Since when were they together? They fought every day; weren’t they arch-rivals?”

Celine offered some earnest guidance: “That’s where you’re wrong. That was just a young couple flirting. You couldn’t even see that? No wonder you’re single.”

Droville interrupted her. “What about the Butler? He’s old; surely he isn’t having a ‘sunset romance’.”

Celine shrugged and continued: “He went to take care of his granddaughter. A late-born granddaughter, and her health isn’t great. She’s his treasure. Without a major emergency, he can’t be called back.”

“Then…” Droville wanted to ask more, but he couldn’t think of anyone else. He finally remembered that aside from those three, everyone else had been sent out on missions by him. That meant—he turned to look at the meter-high stack of documents—all of these were for him to handle.

For a moment, he wanted to send himself on a mission.

Celine slapped a document in front of Droville and said with a smile: “I leave it all to you, My Lord Demon King.”

Droville attempted to struggle: “Perhaps you could help—”

“I cannot,” Celine wagged her finger triumphantly. “I have to deal with the ‘trash’ left behind by the Carrion Beasts.”

Droville sighed, resigning himself to fate. But before he could even sit down, a soft exclamation of surprise came from nearby.

He stood up immediately and hurried toward the sound.

Celoa? What happened to him?

Actually, nothing major had happened to Celoa. When Celine and Droville began their conversation, he had found a corner to play in by himself.

This was what he was most familiar with in the Heavenly Realm. Because no one accompanied him or told him what he could do, he had to find things to explore on his own all day, waiting for nightfall so he could sleep and start another boring day.

He knew his residence in the Heavenly Realm inside out, but this new Demon Palace was a fresh adventure base. Like any child with high curiosity, he had a strong desire to explore the place where he would live for a long time. Thus, he began to tirelessly touch, feel, and look at all the new things.

Then, he was attracted by a square, exquisite hanging clock.

This wooden clock emitted a strange fragrance. The carved patterns depicted a type of bird he didn’t recognize—with wide wings and a gentle, elegant gaze. Celoa stared for a while and couldn’t help reaching out to touch it. He thought to himself: This bird feels so much like Celine. Just as noble, but also exceptionally kind.

He slowly sank into his thoughts, failing to notice the hands of the clock were about to hit the hour.

BONG— Ding-ding-ding!

“Most noble, most elegant, most powerful Lord Saint Bird, it is time for your beauty feathers—oh wait, I mean, it’s four o’clock! It’s four o’clock!”

A clockwork bird lunged out of a small door at the bottom of the clock, striking Celoa right in the chest.

Caught off guard, Celoa stumbled back two steps with a small “Ah” and landed right on his bottom. He was completely dazed, failing to react for a long moment as he watched the clockwork bird perform a flirtatious dance before him. It then gracefully spread its wings—one behind its back, the other forward—and bowed.

Celoa let out a small “Eh?” After a moment, he hesitantly placed a finger on the clockwork bird’s wing.

“Celoa—!” Droville called out, rushing over.

Celoa turned his head sharply to respond.

Then Droville and Celine watched as the clockwork bird gave Celoa’s finger a light peck.

“Darling, you are the cutest child I have ever seen.”

Celine collapsed, covering her face with her hand.