Becoming the Demon Lord: Taming the Demon Queen Begins

In the northern region, in a small country called Arcadia Dominion...

Two rare outsiders arrived at Elder Zandor's home.

"Hey, old man, I heard the house next to yours is up for rent?"

The old man looked toward the voice, a bit puzzled, but then froze for a moment.

This remote town, Emberhill, hadn't seen much traffic in a long time. The house next to his had been vacant for quite some time.

Despite the large sign advertising it for rent to travelers, hardly anyone ever came by. Even when someone did, it was usually an elderly person returning to their hometown.

But these two—so young—were a first for him. And more importantly...

Even though both were dressed in simple, rough linen clothes, and his eyesight wasn't what it used to be, the old man could still tell at a glance that these two were anything but ordinary.

The man had sharp, handsome features, with eyebrows like swords, giving off an air of confidence and strength.

The woman, though, was even more striking.

Her plain gray dress, with only a few modest folds at the hem, was the kind of thing only the poorest of folk would wear. Yet, the way it clung to her figure, tied with a simple thread, revealed a silhouette that was nothing short of perfect.

Her face, flawless and coldly beautiful, wasn't diminished in the slightest by her humble attire. In fact, it only made her seem even more otherworldly, as if she didn't belong to this world at all.

For a long moment, Elder Zandor just stood there, dumbfounded. "Are you sure you want to rent this old place of mine?"

"Yes, but we might only need it for a day. Is that too short... is that a problem?" Sylvia's voice was like music, soft and ethereal.

"Oh, no, no, that's not a problem at all. It's just... I can't help but feel you two aren't ordinary folks. People like you wouldn't normally be interested in a rundown place like this." Elder Zandor's face was practically a giant question mark.

People of high status wouldn't even set foot in a backwater like this, let alone stay in a shabby house. What was going on here?

If it weren't for their simple clothes, he might've thought they were gods descending from the mountains.

"How could that be? We're just refugees passing through. You've definitely got the wrong idea!" Timothy waved his hand awkwardly.

After all, they had agreed to spend a day living like ordinary townsfolk. It wouldn't do to be recognized right off the bat!

Was he and Goddess Sylvia really that easy to recognize?

'Uh, well... maybe we are...'

But when he glanced at Sylvia, whose beauty could topple kingdoms, Timothy suddenly understood what it meant to be truly "untouched by the mud, yet still pure." No matter how plain her clothes were, they couldn't hide her natural grace and elegance.

Her simple outfit didn't make her look ordinary at all. If anything, it only highlighted her extraordinary presence.

"Really, it's a misunderstanding. My wife and I are just regular refugees," Timothy said, trying to explain away the awkwardness. "I saw the sign that said two silver coins for a day, so I'll rent it for one day."
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As he spoke, he started rummaging through his pockets.

But soon, Timothy's expression turned a bit stiff.

Because, while he had plenty of Mana Crystals and even a few gold bars, he didn't have a single silver coin on him.

"Uh-oh, I didn't think about this..."

After searching for a while, Timothy finally pulled out a small gold nugget, about fifty grams, gleaming brightly. "I don't have any small change, so how about I pay with this gold nugget? If you can't make change, don't worry about it...

But please, don't get the wrong idea. My wife and I really are just down-on-our-luck refugees. This gold... uh... we just happened to find it on the road..."

Elder Zandor: "..."

He might've been old, but he wasn't senile...

...

After a while, Timothy and Sylvia finally unlocked the door to the old, run-down house.

Since Elder Zandor couldn't make change for the gold nugget, he ended up throwing in a bunch of rice, flour, and other ingredients, saving the two the trouble of going into town to shop.

The only issue was...

"Why do I feel like this 'ordinary day' isn't starting off so... ordinary?" Timothy muttered.

"Uh, really? That was just a little hiccup. Overall, it's still pretty normal, right?" Timothy chuckled awkwardly.

Regardless of how things started, now that they were settled in, it was time to dive into the life they had planned.

"But what exactly is a normal life like?" Sylvia wondered aloud.

"I heard it's something like... men farm and hunt, and women spin and weave?"

"Right! Men farm and hunt, women spin and weave!"

Men wake up at the crack of dawn to work the fields or hunt, while women stay home or in the fields, sewing and mending. The day ends with a hearty dinner and a good night's sleep, washing away the day's fatigue.

Rising with the sun, resting with the sunset.

This simple, uneventful life was the most common for countless ordinary people.

Timothy, now excited, started rummaging through the tool shed of the old house.

To his surprise, despite the house being abandoned for years, it was still well-equipped. The farming tools and weaving supplies were all there.

Grabbing a hoe, Timothy headed toward the small, overgrown patch of land in the yard.

Meanwhile, Sylvia, holding a needle and thread, seemed a bit lost.

She quickly realized that while she had the tools for sewing, there wasn't anything to mend!

Their clothes, though plain and simple, were brand new. Sure, they were humble, but they weren't torn or worn out in the slightest!

"Uh, honey, is something wrong?" Timothy asked, noticing Sylvia's puzzled expression.

The same Goddess Sylvia who could decide the fate of an entire Sect or even an empire without hesitation was now staring at the needle and thread in her hands, her eyes filled with uncertainty, like a spring breeze rippling across a calm lake.

The sight was so adorable that Timothy, hoe in hand, couldn't help but laugh.

Farming could wait—he couldn't just leave his wife hanging.

But there really weren't any clothes... that needed mending...

Glancing at the sharp corner of a nearby wooden fence, Timothy suddenly had an idea.

"Oh no, I accidentally ripped it!" he exclaimed dramatically.

As he passed by the fence, Timothy "accidentally" caught his shirt on the sharp edge, tearing a noticeable hole in it.

"Yikes, that's a pretty big tear. Looks like it definitely needs some mending. I'll get back to farming, and I'll leave this shirt to you, honey."

Acting as if nothing had happened, Timothy took off his shirt and handed it to Sylvia with a mischievous grin.

"You..." Sylvia started, but then burst into laughter.

Looking at Timothy, standing there shirtless and grinning as he handed her the torn shirt, Sylvia couldn't help but let out a soft giggle, her usually cool and composed face lighting up with a rare, gentle smile.