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

After finishing up the cleanup work with the Demon Order, and handing over the initial plans for appeasement, power transfer, and responding to the king's questioning to Alpha and Philippa for further refinement, Gray stood alone on the terrace of the Grand Merchant Guild headquarters, watching the gradually recovering Bifeng Territory, but he did not feel relieved.

There are many more troublesome problems, like tangled threads, waiting for him to untangle them.

Resolving the age-old hatred between humans and demons is no easy task; it requires a carefully designed long-term strategy, subtle cultural influence, and strong intervention at crucial moments.

He considered the future, more decentralized layout of the Shadow Court, the potential demonstration effect of publicly joining hands with Philippa, and how to utilize the faith vacuum left by the collapse of the Church of Holy Light to inject a new, inclusive narrative.

It's about time I went back to visit the Brant family.

The impoverished aristocratic family that adopted him and provided him with his initial shelter.

Are his adoptive parents alright? What has become of that nominal "home"? In what capacity should he return? Should he continue playing the unassuming adopted son, Grey Brant, or should he openly reveal his true identity as the Demon King?

The latter may cause panic or even danger, but concealing it may also be a form of betrayal.

He needs to weigh the pros and cons.

There are even more personal questions... his engagement to Ioeta...

Moreover, he already understood Philippa's feelings, and he couldn't deny that he cared about her, not to mention the other waiters and Bai Lin...

This was not a simple choice, but rather a challenge of managing deep connections with several important women.

However…” Gray took a deep breath of the cool air, trying to calm his chaotic thoughts, “these problems are no more troublesome than confronting a main god head-on, or even ultimately killing one.”

At least these were worries about "building" and "living," not a life-or-death struggle for survival. He comforted himself with this thought.

The sun shone brightly, high in the sky, yet not scorching, casting its gentle rays upon the earth, soothing the wounds of disaster and bringing a touch of nascent warmth.

Gray decided to leave the study and meeting room for a while, go for a walk, get his body moving, and relax his overly tense nerves.

He strolled down the steps, through the courtyard that was being cleaned and restored, and towards the relatively intact street outside the lord's manor. The sunlight fell on him, bringing a real warmth, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of earth and new growth.

He deliberately emptied his mind, avoiding thoughts of strategies, power struggles, and emotional entanglements, simply appreciating the tranquility and authenticity of the moment.

This rare leisure time was extremely precious to him.

However, this tranquility did not last long.

Just as he strolled to a relatively open street corner where he could see the distant mountains, his extraordinary senses, now made even more acute by his control over a portion of the plane, suddenly caught a glimpse of something amiss.

Extremely faint, almost an illusion, yet undeniably real—it was a tremor in space.

It was not a physical vibration, but a more fundamental, imperceptible "ripple" involving the spatial structure itself, like a very light fingertip brushing the end of the tautest string. If Gray were not at his current level of perception, he would never have been able to detect it.

He instantly snapped out of his daze, his gaze sharp as lightning, and abruptly turned toward the direction from which the tremor had come—about a hundred meters away, beside the ruins of a mansion that had partially collapsed due to the earthquake.

The next moment, his pupils suddenly contracted.

There, someone had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

A blond man.

Gray was shocked; a chill instantly crept up his spine.

With his current perception abilities, he can detect any life force, magical fluctuations, or even subtle spatial anomalies within a radius of several miles.

However, this blond man appeared out of thin air, without any warning or prior trace!

He immediately focused all his attention on it, raising his vigilance to the extreme.

However, what made him even more uneasy was that he could not sense any magical aura flowing from the other party, nor could he detect any energy field or pressure that a strong person should have.

The man simply stood there quietly, his posture even appearing somewhat casual, like an ordinary traveler who happened to pass by and stopped to look at the ruins.

"An ordinary person?" The thought had barely crossed his mind when Gray rejected it.

Absolutely impossible!

Even the most skilled stealth master, or someone with a special talent for concealment, could not possibly appear silently at such close range, completely evading his senses.

The very existence of those who can do this signifies an immeasurable difference in their level of achievement.

Gray stared intently at the blond man, his muscles tensing slightly. The vast magical power within him and the power of the authority he had just acquired began to flow silently, gathering momentum.

Although his senses were completely blank, an intuition stemming from his very life force, tempered by countless brushes with death, was screaming wildly in his mind—danger! Extreme danger!

This sense of danger was even stronger than when he faced the Holy Goddess of Light at her peak in the Celestial Realm!

It was as if the person standing in front of him was not a "person", but a walking, indescribable, enormous threat, an existence capable of overturning all his cognition and assessment of power.

Paradoxically, amidst this overwhelming ominous sign, Gray also strangely sensed a faint yet undeniable affinity from the other person.

It wasn't goodwill or friendliness, but more like... a sense of shared origin? Or some distant and vague resonance? This feeling was fleeting, yet real, intertwining with the deadly sense of threat to create an incredibly bizarre experience.

Besides that, Gray felt something was off. His gaze was sharp as a knife as he carefully scanned the other person.

That's right, it's the face!

Gray finally noticed the anomaly that had initially been masked by the intense sense of threat—the blond man's face was actually blurry!

It wasn't due to distance or lighting; it was as if a very faint yet stubborn veil shrouded his face. No matter how hard he focused his gaze, he couldn't make out the details of the other person's features. He could only barely make out the short golden hair and the general outline of his figure.

With his current eyesight, he should have noticed this level of visual interference immediately, but he only realized it now!

Is it the other party's ability? Or is it that its very existence distorts the perception of reality?

The alarm bells in my heart reached their peak at this moment, ringing incessantly.

Gray's vigilance had risen to an unprecedented level.

He stopped, neither advancing nor retreating, but simply standing still, forming a silent standoff with the blurry yet dangerous blond figure a hundred meters away, separated by the empty street and collapsed ruins.

The sun was still shining warmly, but Gray felt as if the air around him had solidified, filled with the heavy pressure of an impending storm.

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet it clearly pierced through the distance, carrying absolute calm and an unquestionable tone:

"who are you?"

In stark contrast to Gray's heightened alertness, the blond man appeared unusually relaxed, even exuding a leisurely gentleness.

Under Gray's serious gaze and questioning, he slightly tilted his head, his blurred face seemingly turning towards Gray's direction. Then, a calm, clear voice, even with just the right amount of politeness, rang out, completely ignoring the hundred-meter distance, as if it were right next to Gray's ear:

"Good morning, Mr. Grey Brant, the Demon Lord. Or," the voice paused, a hint of knowing amusement in its tone, "Lord Shadow, future ruler of the plane... or perhaps you'd prefer some other title?"

Gray's heart sank, and shock was like being doused with ice water.

The other party not only knew his identity, but also seemed to know everything about his multiple identities—the Demon King, the Lord of the Shadow Court, and even... the vague possibility of becoming the "future ruler of the plane" (a direction he only vaguely sensed after gaining some power)!

What chilled Gray even more was that, from the other man's tone and all-knowing aura, he had an almost certain intuition that everything about him, including his deepest secrets, the essence of his soul from two lifetimes, and even his subconscious and future potential, which he himself might not fully understand, were probably not secrets in the eyes of this blond man.

This is a kind of "transparency" that is far more chilling than having one's strength seen through.

The blond man seemed pleased with Gray's silence and wariness, and continued in his gentle tone, "Well, I know you. Now, it's time for my introduction. I am..."

He paused deliberately at this point.

At the same time, he made a gesture—raising his right hand, gently rubbing his index finger and thumb together, and snapping his fingers crisply.

This action was accompanied by what he considered to be a rather dashing and casual posture.

As the snap of his fingers fell, a pure and dazzling golden light burst forth from his fingertip, then quickly stretched and extended, outlining a complex and perfect golden ring in the air.

The ring floated silently, emitting a soft yet undeniable golden glow that was neither dazzling nor lacking in mystery.

Gray's gaze was immediately drawn to the golden ring. He could see clearly that it was not a magical creation, but rather a direct manifestation of a concept, a higher-level "information carrier."

At the center of the circle, there was no blank space, but rather lines of incredibly clear text and symbols, directly imprinted on the senses. Their content was both startlingly simple and overwhelmingly powerful.

God Serial Number 001 Valkyrie, the God of Destiny [Omniscient and Omnipotent].

This special "business card" presented Gray with its identity and essence in a way that transcended language and reached the depths of the soul.

“The God of Fate… [All-knowing and all-powerful]…” Gray silently chewed over these two phrases in his mind, each word weighing as heavy as a thousand pounds.

The Goddess of Holy Light was the pinnacle of divine power in his understanding, but the one before him was not only also a god, but her divine office was the more abstract and fundamental "Fate," and her title was the arrogant (or perhaps just a statement of fact?) "Omniscient and Omnipotent" to the extreme!

Questions surged up instantly, like boiling bubbles. The God of Destiny? Where did he come from? As far as he knew, the only "active" deity in this world throughout the long ages was the Goddess of Holy Light.

The answer is almost obvious—the other party is probably not a god of this world.

He comes from another world, or rather, from a broader, more diverse realm where gods coexist and rules intertwine!

The title of "omniscient and omnipotent" was a cruel confirmation of his previous premonition that "the other party knows everything".

If the other party is truly the embodiment of "destiny" and dares to claim the title of "omniscient and omnipotent," then the boundaries of its abilities are probably far beyond his current imagination.

The information is severely lacking, the friend or foe is unclear, and the purpose remains a mystery.

Faced with such an extraordinary existence, passively waiting is by no means a good strategy.

Gray forcibly suppressed the turmoil churning within him, maintaining a facade of maximum composure.

Since the other party has taken the initiative to show up and "introduce themselves," it may mean that there is a possibility of communication.

He broke his silence, facing the blurry face and the golden halo, and spoke first, his voice deep and steady, expanding his initial single-word question into a more specific inquiry: