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

However, this feeling of being moved was quickly extinguished by the cold reality.

Gray's expression froze, the emotion that had not fully unfolded at the corner of his mouth solidified, and transformed into an extremely complex, even... extremely awkward, expression.

His gaze began to wander, no longer daring to meet Philippa's expectant and passionate eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he wanted to say something, but it got stuck in his throat.

The main issue is Gray's situation...

Gray doesn't just have a fiancée; to put it bluntly, his situation should be called...

He had affairs with all ten of his subordinates, the Shadow Attendants...

(Aita: "????")

Let's leave that particular case aside for now.

Given his situation, it's difficult for him to accept Philippa's feelings.

How should he respond?

accept?

The premise is definitely to inform Philippa of her specific situation. How can a princess accept a guy with a harem of ten people?

Rejection? Having just experienced the immense shock and emotional breakdown of her identity being revealed, and now having mustered all her courage to confess, can Philippa withstand a second blow? And... deep down, is he truly willing to reject this emotion that has pierced through all pretense and reached the very core of his being?

A torrent of thoughts ripped at him, turning his usually calm and composed face into one of utter confusion, bewilderment, and a desperate urge to disappear into the ground. He opened his mouth, but only managed to utter a few meaningless syllables:

“Philippa, I… that…”

He raised his hand and touched the back of his neck somewhat helplessly, his gaze drifting to the cold stone pillar beside him, but he dared not look Philippa in the eye.

His appearance was completely different from the majestic demon king who had just received her selfless attack, or the calm and gentle one who had guided her to recall the past. He was just an ordinary young man (if we only consider one lifetime) who was dizzy and didn't know what to do after being hit by a sudden, heavy and sincere romantic opportunity (or rather, a romantic calamity).

This reaction was clearly far from any of the responses Philippa had anticipated (whether it was a joyful acceptance or a firm rejection), casting a shadow of confusion over her passionate feelings.

Looking at Gray's hesitant, shifty eyes and face full of embarrassment and difficulty, Philippa felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her heart, quickly cooling it down and replaced by a deep sense of confusion and a hint of grievance.

Why didn't he just agree? Could it be... really because of his fiancée?

Thinking of this, a surge of competitive spirit mixed with a "what's the use" impulse welled up inside her. She bit her lower lip, as if making a decision, her tone carrying a stubborn defiance, and also a hint of eagerness she herself didn't realize—an attempt to increase her leverage.

"You...you're worried about your fiancée, aren't you?" She stared intently at Gray's expression, not missing a single change. "If...if that's the case...I...I can give up being the main wife! I'll be...I'll be the concubine!"

As she said this, her face burned with embarrassment, but to show her resolve, she forced herself to continue, even trying to appear "very reasonable": "And...and you don't need to worry about my father! That old man...he can't control me now! I can make my own decisions!"

She felt that the conditions she had proposed were already very "generous," and she had almost given up all the dignity of being a princess and her future status, just to stay by his side.

However, her "eloquent speech" did not relieve Gray's burden; instead, it deepened the embarrassment on his face, even bringing with it a hint of desperate, almost laughable, frustration. He raised his hand and rubbed his temples vigorously, as if that could relieve the soaring pressure in his brain.

“No… that’s not the issue, Philippa… or rather, not entirely…” Gray’s voice was filled with helplessness. He took a deep breath, knowing he couldn’t be vague any longer and had to clarify the situation, otherwise the misunderstanding would only deepen.

He organized his thoughts and began to explain in a calm tone: "I... secretly established an organization called 'Shadow Court'." He glanced at Philippa, noticing a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and continued, "The main objective is to crack down on the active demon cults on the continent, and incidentally... also to clean up some bandits and slave-hunting teams that are committing crimes. This mission is now almost complete."

He paused, then steered the conversation to the core issue: "It is precisely because the external threat has been temporarily eliminated that I have begun to deal with... the problems between me, the Demon King, and humanity."

Having laid this groundwork, Gray felt his cheeks burning, but he still forced himself to continue: "And the core of the 'Shadow Court,' and my most loyal and capable subordinates, are ten Shadow Attendants, known as the 'Ten Shadow Attendants.'"

He deliberately emphasized the word "loyalty," conveying a complex emotion that was difficult to describe.

“But…” Gray’s voice became a little hoarse, and his eyes darted around more erratically, “Their ‘loyalty’… well… might be expressed… a little… distorted…”

Philippa was a little confused. How could loyalty be turned sour?

Then she heard Gray drop the second, no, the tenth bombshell, in words that were as tactful as possible, yet still crystal clear:

“My fiancée… is one of the Ten Shadow Attendants.” He paused, as if gathering his courage, and finally added almost in a whisper, “And… uh… over the years… without realizing it… I… I… have… all… developed… similar… intimate relationships with… nine of them… similar to… with my fiancée…”

After saying this, Gray felt like he had used up all his strength. He didn't even dare to look at Philippa's expression and just wanted to use spatial magic to teleport himself to the ends of the universe immediately.

A deathly silence fell over the main hall.

The blush on Philippa's face faded visibly, replaced by an extreme sense of bewilderment and blankness. Her mind seemed to have turned into a pot of thick porridge that had been forcibly shut down, all her thoughts thickened and solidified together.

The Shadow Court... Ten Shadow Attendants... His fiancée is one of them... He has also established intimate relationships with nine others...

These words bombarded her mind one by one, combining to form a picture that she could not comprehend at all, one that surpassed all her cognitive and imaginative limits.

She understood what Gray was trying to say.

I also understood why he had that embarrassed expression, as if he wanted to disappear on the spot.

This wasn't the "either/or" dilemma she had imagined at all; it was... it was...

Philippa opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Only her wide amber eyes clearly reflected the turmoil she was experiencing—a turmoil far more intense and unbelievable than when she first learned that Gray was the Demon King…

Shocked.

“...Nine...nine?” She finally found her voice, faint as a mosquito’s buzz, filled with an unbelievable sense of emptiness.