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

Upon hearing this, Gray sighed deeply, a sigh tinged with a weary acceptance, as if he had already anticipated this answer.

He gazed at Philippa's tear-streaked face, without anger or threat, but in a calm, fact-stating tone, slowly asked:

"You know, Philippa, this level of attack can't kill me, right?"

His words reached Philippa's ears clearly, carrying an undeniable power.

"Even now, this level of light-attribute magic is still not enough to cause me any real fatal damage. My heart may have stopped beating, but my life force is far from exhausted."

He paused, his gaze still fixed on her, and continued, "If I wanted to resist, I could still kill you in an instant..."

He said this in an extremely calm tone, yet it carried a chilling sense of absolute disparity in strength.

"Or, I could just pull the sword out myself right now. The suppression of the light attribute only slows down my recovery speed, that's all."

Then he posed the most crucial and practical question: "So, what's next?"

"After I've endured your betrayal and this sword strike, and while I still possess sufficient power, have you considered what will happen next?"

Gray's voice remained steady, but the content of his words was like a hammer blow: "Your companions, Taric, Sophia, Phoenix... they may suffer the most insane retaliation from an enraged demon lord and his forces."

Your country, Olmec, and even the entire human world could be drawn into a war far more brutal and uncontrollable than ever before.

"Did you consider all these possible consequences, and still... swung that sword?"

He wasn't questioning her; rather, he was guiding her to see clearly the implications of her choices.

Philippa's sobs gradually subsided as Gray's analysis became increasingly calm and brutal, but she continued to choke back sobs.

She closed her eyes, more tears streaming down her face, her voice carrying an almost feeble despair and a distorted sense of "rationality":

“I know… I know this level of death won’t kill you…” she repeated, as if trying to convince herself, “But… if you die… it’ll be better for everyone…”

She raised her teary eyes, trying to focus on Gray's face, and haltingly explained her "reasons": "At least... in the near future... the human world will no longer suffer from the invasion of the demon race... we don't have to bear... the enormous risk that could lead to the mutual annihilation of both humans and demons... to resist... gods that are simply beyond human power to contend with..."

She took a deep breath and said something that made Gray's eyes narrow slightly: "Besides... can demons live in secret realms that humans can't find? As long as... as long as there's no Demon King... no unified command and no source of hatred... perhaps the two races can... cease their conflict... and the world... will be at peace..."

Her voice trailed off, carrying a self-deceiving, faint hope, and an overwhelming sense of guilt she couldn't conceal: "This...this is also a way...to resolve the hatred between humans and demons...a...low-risk way...it only requires...only requires...your sacrifice..."

Her words blend a utilitarian calculation based on fear and shortsightedness with her personal painful choices, creating a tragic picture that seems to "take the big picture into account" but is actually full of despair and helplessness.

She chose to sacrifice him in exchange for a more "stable" future that she imagined, even if that future was built on sand, even if this choice caused her own heart to die along with it.

"I see……"

Gray said softly, his words devoid of much emotion, as if he were merely confirming an answer he had long anticipated.

He finally understood Philippa's reasons for choosing to "backstab" her—it wasn't an impulsive act, nor was it entirely foolish, but rather a decision she made based on her perception of "reality," the "responsibility" she bore, and the "optimal solution" she could imagine, a decision that seemed sufficiently adequate to her.

The sword wound in his chest still burned with pain under the corrosive power of light magic, but he seemed to completely ignore the pain, staring intently at Philippa, his deep eyes seeming to pierce through her tearful face and look into the deepest part of her soul.

He spoke again, his voice deep and clear, asking the last, and most crucial, question:

“So, Philippa Ravenhill,”

He unusually used her full name, with an almost ritualistic solemnity.

"Is this what you want? Completely out of your own will, without any external coercion or suggestion, sincerely... hoping that I would die here, using my life to exchange for that fragile 'peace' that you think is possible, built on sacrifice?"

His question was like a precise scalpel, peeling away all the high-sounding reasons and pointing straight to the core of her personal desires.

Philippa's sobs faltered for a moment as she met Gray's gaze, a gaze so calm and insightful that it left her nowhere to hide.

She bit her lower lip tightly, almost tasting blood, and then, with all her remaining strength and in a near-collapse of resolve, choked out, each word a reply:

"Yes!"

"This is my decision! It's entirely based on my own will! It has nothing to do with anyone else!"

She almost screamed, as if trying to etch this thought firmly into her soul and into Grey's mind, "I have not been misled by anyone! Nor have I been controlled by any being! This is the choice I... as the princess of Olmec, as a hero of humanity... made based on my own judgment!"

Her voice trembled violently, but her tone carried a resolute determination, as if heading towards destruction.

She looked at Gray, tears blurring her vision, yet she still gazed at him with unwavering sorrow, uttering those words that felt like a final judgment:

"So... Gray... just... die like this..."

"This...is my last...and only...request for you as your lover..."

The moment she finished speaking, it was as if all her strength and hope had been drained away.

She closed her eyes, letting the tears flow freely, waiting for either Gray's rage or her eventual release, as she anticipated.

She thrust her heart out along with the sword, plunging herself into eternal darkness and guilt.

Gray fully understood Philippa's thoughts.

For the sake of peace between the two races, my own death is necessary.

is it?