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

To be precise, there is also a white scale in the [celestial realm]...

As for this…

Nine... is already enough of a stimulus, so let's not try to correct it anymore.

Or are you saying that since there are already nine, adding one more wouldn't make much difference, so it doesn't matter?

(I don't think we can calculate it like that...)

"Nine...nine?!"

Philippa's mind did indeed go blank for a moment from the shock of that number.

But to her own surprise, this shock seemed... somewhat "insignificant" compared to the impact of learning the truth that "Grey = Demon King" was enough to overturn her entire understanding of the world.

After all, she had barely managed to digest even the most impossible and taboo truth about her identity. Compared to that, the "worldly" issue of "having a few too many close female friends" seemed... not so impossible... to slowly accept?

Her chaotic thoughts began to drift involuntarily toward the "good."

'Look on the bright side…' she tried to comfort herself, 'Since there are already nine, it means Gray… won't be devoted to just that fiancée he's never met. This actually increases… the chances of him accepting me?'

But the thought had barely formed when it was met with a harsh blow from reality.

'But...nine! That's too much...'

She had mustered all her courage, even willing to set aside her princess status and the position of principal wife, and was mentally prepared to be a "mistress"—or rather, a "concubine" (though the term certainly didn't sound pleasant). But who could have imagined that she wouldn't face a "choice between two," or even a "three-way standoff," but instead be parachuted directly into…the tenth position?!

Even Philippa, blinded by love and determined to go all out, felt this was absurd (Beta: I feel like I've been tagged for no reason...)! She, the princess of Olmec, the future hero (if there is a future), is going to be someone's tenth wife... If this gets out, her "old" father, the king, will probably be so angry that he'll die on the spot.

However, this somewhat comical thought unexpectedly reminded her of a fact—her "old tyrant" father had at least several hundred, if not three thousand, concubines in his harem… Compared to that, it seemed… ten… wasn't entirely incomprehensible? (Although the nature of the situation seemed somewhat different?)

Moreover, Gray is the Demon King, the king of the entire demon race, and in a sense, he can be understood as the royal family of the demon race, and can also be considered a king.

Perhaps she is even more powerful, after all, her father was only the king of Olmec, and the Olmec Kingdom cannot represent all mankind, at most it can only be considered the first country of mankind.

There's also the large nation of Westphalia and several smaller human nations...

So it's quite normal for the Demon King to have a harem of three thousand beauties, right?

Only nine...did she still make a profit?

(Is that a correct interpretation?!)

A series of chaotic, contradictory, self-comforting, and self-mocking thoughts collided violently in her mind, like a pot of boiling stew.

The attempt to reach a clear conclusion ultimately failed, as the brain became completely overloaded from processing too much incredible information in a short period of time.

Ultimately, Philippa chose to give up thinking.

who cares!

Let's apply it first and then talk about it!

She seemed to have perfectly inherited a fine tradition of "if you can't figure it out, don't think about it first," and hugged Gray tightly again, burying her burning cheeks in his cold black robe, as if that could isolate her from all her troubles.

Gray felt the girl in his arms go through the whole process from shock to confusion and finally to "giving up," and he felt both helpless and vaguely relieved.

He could sense that the biggest identity crisis seemed to have temporarily passed.

He gently patted her back and added in as soothing a tone as possible, trying to calm the chaotic situation:

"Don't worry, I don't distinguish between wives and concubines here. I will treat everyone the same."

Gray himself thought the statement was outrageous, so he lowered his voice.

Now is the time to test Gray's thick skin...

However, the most important thing right now is to resolve the core conflict that Philippa wants to "punish" him. Gray quickly brought his thoughts back to the main point. He gently put his hand on Philippa's shoulder, helping her to stand up straighter, and said seriously:

“These things… can be discussed later. Right now, the most important thing is to meet up with your companions and explain the situation to them.”

He glanced at the deep entrance of the hall, his tone tinged with urgency, "My men are still entangled with Phoenix and your fellow members of the Hero Squad. The longer this drags on, the more likely there will be misunderstandings or mishaps that could result in casualties."

He extended his hand to Philippa, his eyes regaining their calm and decisiveness: "We need to get there as soon as possible."

This means he will need to lead the hero, with whom he has just accepted his identity as the Demon King and whose relationship with him has become extremely complicated, to face her companions who are currently engaged in fierce battle with his subordinates. This will undoubtedly be another severe test.

As soon as Gray suggested that he should go and meet up with his companions as soon as possible, Philippa naturally frowned with a hint of grievance and whimpered softly, "But... I'm in so much pain... I can't move..." As she spoke, she looked at Gray with her large, amber eyes that were still misty with tears, and her meaning couldn't be clearer.

Gray watched her transform instantly from a fearless warrior fighting to a helpless, fragile figure. A barely perceptible twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth as he inwardly grumbled, 'Where did your ferocity go, that barrage of light magic you used to want to reduce me to ashes? Now you know how to cry in pain?'

However, when his gaze fell on her pale yet flushed cheeks, her eyelashes trembling slightly from weakness, and the natural, somewhat dependent and coquettish look in her eyes, his initial吐槽 (tu cao, a Chinese internet slang term for sarcastic or critical comments) was instantly replaced by a strange, tender emotion.

Indeed... kind of cute.

After her reckless confession and the subsequent chaotic "relationship sorting," Philippa's image seemed to have subtly changed in Gray's eyes.

She was no longer just a "brave" person to be treated with caution, or a "close friend" to be cherished. Above that relationship was a more distinct, more vivid, and more emotionally stirring color—a unique girl who would cry, get angry, and bravely confess her feelings because of him, and who would also act coquettishly with such confidence.

He sighed helplessly, bent down, and gently lifted her up in his arms.

Philippa let out a soft, satisfied sigh, and immediately adjusted her position to make herself more comfortable in his arms, her arms naturally wrapping around his neck.

Feeling the light and soft weight in his arms, and the faint scent of blood mixed with her own sweet fragrance, Gray's heart skipped a beat again.

Just then, Philippa slightly raised one hand and gently grasped the hand that was holding her. Her fingertips were still a little cold, but the touch carried an undeniable intimacy.

She tilted her pretty face up, her blush like a newly blooming rose, and gave him a smile that was both shy and incredibly firm:

"Let's go."

At that moment, it seemed as if all the opposing stances, the barriers of identity, and even the troublesome "complex relationships" were temporarily dispelled by this smile and this "Let's go."

Gray took a deep breath, composed himself, hugged her tightly, and strode resolutely toward the area outside the main hall where an inexplicable battle was still raging.