Becoming the Demon Lord: Taming the Demon Queen Begins

"To be, or not to be, that is the question."

"Knowledge is power."

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

"..."

In the distance, Mr. Eldric was walking with a group of about ten children, reciting lessons as they went.

The town was eerily quiet, almost lifeless, but the kids' voices were full of youthful energy, a stark contrast to the stillness around them.

Emberhill Town had very few young people left. Eldric was the only teacher, having stayed behind after failing his exams years ago.

He had been teaching in the town for over a decade, and his status had grown considerably in the eyes of the townsfolk. They now respectfully called him "Master Eldric."

Over the years, Eldric had given his all to his students, holding nothing back. He was, by all accounts, a rare and dedicated teacher.

But when it came to certain beliefs, Eldric could be a bit... extreme.

"You've memorized it pretty well. I didn't expect you to get it down so quickly after just learning it yesterday. Looks like you've all been studying hard at home," Eldric said, impressed after hearing the children recite their lessons.

But as his gaze drifted to the farmers working on the hillside, his mood suddenly darkened.

After failing his exams, Eldric had returned to Emberhill, disheartened, and taken up the role of the town's only teacher.

Though he had long since lost any personal ambition, there was one thing he could never accept: the idea that the students he worked so hard to teach might one day end up like the farmers—plowing fields, hunting, and living out their days in a dull, aimless existence.

After all, if that were to happen, what would have been the point of all his hard work?

As time passed, this thought had grown into an obsession, and his views on the matter had become increasingly rigid.

He glanced again at the farmer nearby, who was taking a huge bite out of a steamed bun before wiping the sweat from his brow and returning to his hoeing. Eldric let out a long sigh, feeling like he couldn't hold it in any longer.

He turned to the group of students beside him, his voice low and serious. "You've been studying harder than I expected, but there's something else you need to remember."

"Please tell us, Mr. Eldric," the students responded eagerly, their eyes full of curiosity and a thirst for knowledge.

Being able to study with Mr. Eldric was the only opportunity for education in the town, and they clearly cherished it.

But what Eldric said next wasn't what they had expected. He didn't teach them anything academic that day. Instead, he said, "If you have the ability, I want you to remember this: as scholars, you should stay far away from hunting and farming. That kind of ordinary life has no meaning for your future."

"Huh?"

The children were stunned. They had been studying with Eldric for so long, but this was the first time they had heard him say something so... strange.

After a long pause, one lively boy finally spoke up, his voice full of confusion. "But that's not right, Mr. Eldric. My parents always told me that there's nothing wrong with living a simple life. They said that one day, when I get married, I'll farm and hunt, and my wife will spin and weave. We'll live a peaceful, happy life together. It might be plain, but it's still a good life, isn't it?"

The boy's wide eyes showed that he genuinely believed in the future he was describing, even looking forward to it a little.

"Wrong. Completely wrong!"

Eldric's face twisted with frustration. He couldn't stand the thought that his students—his carefully taught students—were being filled with such ideas by their farmer parents.

"There's nothing good about a simple life. What's this nonsense about men farming and hunting, women spinning and weaving, living happily ever after? A peaceful life without worries? None of that exists!

Especially when it comes to love between a man and a woman. Once the daily grind of life sets in, that thin veil of romance will be torn away. All that's left is frustration and anger, slowly eating away at you in a life of poverty."

There was a sharp edge to Eldric's voice, a hint of anger that the children had never seen in him before.

"Is that really true, Mr. Eldric?"

The boy, along with the other children, fell silent. For the first time, they began to question the lessons their parents had taught them.

Just then, as they passed by a small, dilapidated house, Eldric and the children's attention was suddenly drawn to it.

This rundown house had once belonged to the Zandor family, but it had been abandoned for some time. Strangely, someone had recently moved in, which was quite unusual.

What stood out even more was the small, sea-blue bell hanging from the low fence. As the wind blew, the bell swayed gently, producing a crisp, melodious sound.

The chime floated through the air, giving the old, worn-down house and its yard an unexpectedly charming atmosphere.

And there, in the soft light of the morning sun, a man with his shirt off was working the long-neglected soil in the yard. He raised his hoe high and brought it down again and again, steadily breaking the ground.

Beside him, a woman dressed in simple gray clothes sat quietly, mending a torn piece of fabric. Even from behind, her graceful figure and natural beauty were unmistakable.

"Ouch!"

Sylvia, despite her intelligence, was not used to sewing with ordinary needles and had accidentally pricked her finger. A small drop of blood welled up on her pale fingertip.

The pain was minor, hardly worth her concern. Sylvia was about to casually wipe the blood away when she noticed Timothy had already dropped his hoe and rushed over.

"Why are you in such a hurry? I'm a Holy Emperor-level warrior. A little pain like this doesn't bother me," Sylvia said with a soft smile.

"Pain is one thing, but safety is another. This place isn't like the Sky Sanctuary, where the air is rich with spiritual energy. If you're not careful, even a small wound like this could get infected," Timothy replied, his tone serious.

"Really?"
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As a Holy Emperor, Sylvia had never worried about such trivial matters. But the way Timothy spoke made it sound like it was something to be genuinely concerned about.

"So, what should I do?"

"You need to disinfect it."

"Disinfect?"

"Exactly."

Before Sylvia could fully process what he meant, Timothy gently took her hand.

Then, without warning…

He leaned in and softly sucked the drop of blood from her finger, leaving a faint trace of spiritual energy to soothe the wound.

"You!"

Sylvia's cheeks flushed with surprise. She hadn't expected this at all.

"Haha, it's the most traditional way to protect a wound. I swear I wasn't trying to take advantage of you!" Timothy laughed, carefree, as he quickly ran back to his hoe and resumed his work.