“By the way, who are those guys over there?”
They had been deep in discussion about some rather blush-inducing private matters when a flash of disgust crossed Andrea’s features. She lifted her head and gazed at the handful of pot-bellied, grinning louts lurking just outside the hall.
“Oh, them…”
Xuefei let out a sigh.
“This wedding isn’t just for the Demon Race, you know. Those ones are from the Dwarf Clan, and the big bruisers over there are Lizard Clan. They don’t fall under the Demon Race’s umbrella.”
“I figured as much.”
Andrea’s disgust was threatening to boil over, and Xuefei caught a glimpse of that shadow—the brutal Fallen Angel who had slaughtered humans without mercy. Only among her own kind did Andrea ever put on that innocent, harmless girl act.
It was precisely because Xuefei had once been human that she had somehow earned the admiration of this villainess as a little fangirl. It probably wasn’t Xuefei’s Pressure that inspired such awe, but some bizarre experiences that sparked an inexplicable, utterly irrational devotion…
Still, it all came down to force of personality!
Xuefei was convinced of it.
“Don’t worry. At most, they’ll just offer a few blessings. The new rule is that once the wedding officially starts, they’re out. Only the Demon Race gets the ‘Gold Medal Invitation’ that lets them stay.”
So, all they’d do was spout a few blessings, hand over some gifts, and maybe even curry favor in hopes of gaining the Evil Dragon Lord’s protection. In these chaotic times, seeking a powerful backer was the most natural thing in the world.
Andrea crossed her legs, her elegant black high heels tapping lightly against the table leg. She nodded helplessly. “They’re really just worried about troublemakers, huh? But that’s fine. The Demon Race is family. The rest can stay out.”
“Exactly,” Xuefei agreed with a nod.
There was no need to invite people from other nations anyway. The Demon Race alone had so many countries represented that they could fill the entire wedding hall to the brim—like Xuefei’s little tummy.
Besides, the Demon Race didn’t much care for mingling with other races, especially humans sheltered by the Gods. Rubbing shoulders with them was an insult to their very existence.
Suddenly, right at the main entrance to the hall, a towering figure three meters tall appeared before everyone’s eyes.
His massive muscles were covered in rare brownish skin. An ivory crown sat atop his head, his snarling fangs were adorned with gold and silver, and around his neck hung a massive necklace strung from the skulls of defeated foes from who-knew-what race. He strode in, flanked by several other hulking companions of similar height, girth, and dark skin.
Xuefei frowned slightly.
“Beast Clan. That’s a surprise. I don’t recall inviting them.”
“Those damn bastards, showing up like this… despicable…”
Andrea took a delicate sip of her wine. In front of Xuefei, she resolved to keep her savage, unhinged side under wraps.
If it weren’t for the wedding, she would never bother maintaining her poise. She’d make these creeps pay.
As everyone knew, the Demon Race had all been born from this world’s Dark Filth, which naturally included the fallen Wing Clan. And it was common knowledge that the Wing Clan and the Beastmen were sworn enemies.
Xuefei took in Andrea’s expression completely.
No need to hold back. I’ve seen your ruthless side up close—the way you butchered humans…
But somehow, standing side by side with such a formidable foe brought an inexplicable sense of security. Especially when she was so adorably cute.
Her gaze shifted to the entrance, where the Beastman seemed to be getting into it with the maids.
“Sir, without an invitation, you’re not permitted to enter freely.”
“Out of my way! I’m here to find someone!”
“Please don’t violate the Evil Dragon Lord’s rules, Beastman sir. This is your final warning.”
The maids at the door bristled with tension in the face of the aggressive Beastman, ready at any moment to strike him down with hidden weapons.
Xuefei mused to herself:
Poor Beastman, don’t piss off this bunch of maids. If we’re talking levels, they’re all over level 90. Even the king of the Beastman Kingdom—that curse-slinging monster—is barely level 80 at best. It’s like those late-game trash mobs: grab any one at random, and it’s stronger than the bosses you beat earlier.
But the Beastman clearly wasn’t having any of it.
He shoved a massive hand toward the maid blocking his path, only for it to be casually deflected by a broom with a sharp crack.
The voices of the other Beastmen followed hot on its heels:
“You dare defy Prince Gorfur, you maids? Don’t forget your place!”
“We can only obstruct any being that attempts to intrude. If you violate the rules again, we will kill without mercy,” the maids declared with icy detachment. The other maids, long accustomed to such scenes, drew their daggers in unison, ready to unleash a one-sided slaughter on these reckless giants.
“Truly overstepping every bound—these beastmen!”
Andrea clenched her fists tightly, grinding her teeth in fury, her rage boiling over. The black wings at her back sharpened to razor edges, sending involuntary shivers through everyone nearby.
Xuefei patted her reassuringly. “No worries. Just watch how we handle him.”
The prince known as Gorfur refused to back down, bellowing all the louder:
“You damned Demon Race scum—how many of our beastmen kin have you butchered? Give me back my brother’s ear! Hand over the Endless Treasure!”
Oh? Was it that incident?
Xuefei might have forgotten all about it if it hadn’t been brought up. So Gorfur was Gerdun’s brother—no wonder their skin looked so alike, right down to that identical stench.
And the Endless Treasure, too…
Suddenly, Xuefei rose to her feet. Amid the stunned stares of Andrea and all the maids, she glided forward with elegant slowness, heading straight for the main entrance.
Spotting the Dragon Girl swaying up with her little tail flicking behind her, several maids instantly softened their stern expressions into gentle smiles.
“Lady Xuefei, there’s no need for you to get involved…”
But Xuefei just waved them off, her eyes crinkling into merry crescents as she put on a playful front.
“No need. I want to deal with this fellow myself. Who knows—a god might be pulling the strings here.”
“Understood…”
Seeing the seriousness in Xuefei’s eyes, the maids fell silent and stepped aside to clear a path. Everyone knew that the suppressive barrier Laer had set up wouldn’t let so much as a trace of the Light Envoy’s power sully this place. Even if a god slipped past the multilayered defenses and manifested right here, it wouldn’t be able to wield any of its abilities.
Gorfur, too, got a clear look at the little girl approaching.
He bent down low, his eyes brimming with contempt. What did this puny thing have to stand before him? But the unmistakable Dragon Clan features made him cautious as he growled,
“What are you? One of that Evil Dragon’s vassals?”
“I am Xuefei,” she replied politely. “Beastman Prince Gorfur, what is it you seek?”
“Heh!”
Gorfur spat a heavy gust of air, like a bellows in full blast. Taller and bulkier even than Gerdun, his frame fully embodied the beastmen’s superior royal bloodline.
“You’re the one who hurt my brother, aren’t you? And you’ve even forgotten it—no remorse at all. Heh… Today, I’m getting payback for him! Oh, and hand over the Endless Treasure. That rightfully belongs to us.”
“Oh, that?” Xuefei let out a faint chuckle, looking thoroughly bored—which only stoked Gorfur’s rage higher.
“Just some random minion I swatted away on a whim. Nothing worth caring about. After all, do you give a thought to the ants you step on?”
