The maid squad is too strong, what use is there for me, the Demon King?

That was a really... very clumsy kiss.

Philippa clearly only knew the action, not the reasoning. She probably only knew that a kiss represented intimacy and required lips to touch, but she was completely clueless about deeper techniques, such as how to touch gently, how to adjust the angle, and even how to use breathing and... the coordination of the tongue.

It was less of a "kiss" and more of an impulsive and forceful act where she slammed her lips into his.

The force was so great that Gray felt his teeth go numb slightly from the impact, and his lips felt more of a painful impact than a pleasant sensation.

Philippa herself sensed that something was wrong. This was completely different from the wonderfully described experiences she occasionally read about in romantic novels or poems!

Aside from feeling the coolness and softness of the other person's skin (and the pain of the impact), I didn't feel anything special. In fact, because of the tension and force, I even had some difficulty breathing.

She frowned slightly, a hint of confusion and disappointment flashing in her eyes, completely unaware that the problem lay in her own "operation".

And Gray...

Although his brain was still in a state of shutdown, a blank, a certain "rich" passive experience deeply rooted in his bodily reactions was activated on its own at this moment.

Almost instinctively, or perhaps it was a conditioned reflex forcibly honed by the various "special training" he had received from a certain pink-haired succubus in the past, his body subconsciously responded after feeling that clumsy and forceful impact.

He didn't push her away; instead, his arms, which had stiffened with shock, tightened slightly, holding her body more firmly in his embrace.

He subtly adjusted the angle of his head, making the contact of their lips more harmonious than a harsh collision.

His lips were no longer passively receiving, but began to gently caress and suckle the softness that trembled slightly from tension in an extremely gentle and guiding manner, trying to dissolve the brute force and guide this sudden "attack" in a more comfortable, more... intoxicating direction.

This subtle change eased Philippa's confused brow slightly, and a strange, tingling sensation spread from her lips, making her already confused mind even more dizzy.

Only one thought came to mind.

Why is he so skilled?

However, he quickly realized that Gray had a fiancée and they might be getting married soon...

The next moment, the touch on her lips made Philippa forget all of that.

However, this body's unilateral decision did not pull Gray out of the quagmire of shock; instead, it made his thoughts even more confused.

'What...what am I doing?!'

'No...she did it first...'

'Wait... this feeling... could it be... a conditioned reflex caused by that guy Kappa?!'

A jumble of thoughts exploded in his mind like fireworks. But no matter how dense or emotionally insensitive he was, he now clearly realized that Philippa's action was far more than just an expression of "close friendship"!

An absurd plan, one he had once vehemently rejected, uncontrollably surfaced in his chaotic mind:

'Could it be... that what that incredible thing called Capana said... about marrying the hero... is actually... a viable solution?!'

The impact of this thought was almost as great as the moment Philippa suddenly kissed him. He felt that certain beliefs he had always held were being shattered by reality (or rather, by Philippa's unconventional actions).

The raw, struggling touch of Philippa on his lips, mixed with the slightly salty taste of her still-wet tears and the faint, original fragrance of her body, now masked by blood and sweat, created an extremely complex and intense sensory impact that relentlessly bombarded his already collapsing mental capacity.

He, the Demon King Gray, was being forcibly kissed by the human hero Philippa, his body instinctively responding, while his mind was still contemplating the possibility of "resolving racial conflicts through marriage"...

Is something wrong with this world?

That long kiss (which may have actually lasted only a few dozen seconds) that seemed to freeze time finally ended as Philippa slightly pushed away due to lack of oxygen and Gray's extremely chaotic thoughts.

The lips parted, bringing with them a touch of cool air and faint silver threads.

Philippa's cheeks were as red as ripe apples, the color spreading all the way to her ears. She was breathing heavily, and her amber eyes were shimmering with tears, but the confusion and despair were gone, replaced by a resolute and determined light.

She still clung tightly to the front of Grey's black robe, as if afraid he would run away.

She tilted her head back, her gaze fixed intently on Gray's eyes, which still held a trace of astonishment and confusion, and declared in a slightly breathless yet exceptionally clear and fervent voice:

"I do not care!"

"I don't care if you're the Demon King or Grey Brant!"

"I don't care about your so-called fiancée anymore!"

Her voice was choked with sobs, yet incredibly stubborn:

"You know... at those hypocritical banquets, only you would stay with me in a corner, listening to me complain about those tedious etiquettes, without demanding 'the manners of a princess' from me..."

"Only you would tell me so earnestly what the wind at the border tastes like, what the magical beasts in the forest look like... It makes me feel like I'm not just a bird locked in a golden cage, but can see such a vast world through your eyes..."

"Even if... even if I know you're the Demon King, you saved me, you didn't really hurt me just now, and even after I attacked you in such despair... you still held me like this..."

Her tears welled up again, but this time they were not tears of despair, but tears mixed with long-suppressed emotions and a resolute determination to do whatever it took.

"What I love is Gray, who would smile helplessly at me and tell me stories! And it's you, who, even as the Demon King, still shows me mercy and feels troubled and burdened because of me!"

"I love you! I've loved you for a long time! I love everything about you! No matter who you are or what your status is!"

Her confession was not merely a product of impulse, but rather an expression of cherishing every moment of the past, as well as an understanding and acceptance of Grey's true nature (whether it was his gentleness as "Grey" or his restraint as "The Demon King").

This is more profound and more sincere than simply "liking".

Listening to this confession, which was infused with specific memories and profound understanding, and feeling the reckless passion in her words, Gray's heart began to pound uncontrollably.

A warm current, a mixture of joy, emotion, and the overwhelming feeling of being so deeply understood and accepted, instantly surged through my body.

To say that he felt no emotion at all after being confessed to so passionately by such a beautiful, strong girl who truly "saw" him inside and out would be a lie.

Even the most male would find it hard to resist, right? A hint of smugness and...emotion involuntarily welled up inside him.