The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live A Normal Life [EN]: Chapter 72

Cairo, the capital city, was known for its grand Royal Palace. But those who truly knew Cairo whispered of an even more impressive place: Marquis Benedict’s mansion.

Marquis Benedict. His name meant power in Cairo. He was a key person in the government, and people said he controlled everything. His huge mansion, built near the Royal Palace, showed everyone his importance. To even get to the King, many believed you first needed to impress Marquis Benedict.

Suddenly, news arrived from the frontier. Benedict stopped writing, his pen hitting the desk with a sharp tap. ‘Is it true?’ he asked, his voice low. He looked at his advisor, his white hair neatly combed back, his eyes sharp and waiting for an answer.

‘Yes,’ the advisor said. ‘Our people checked. Willas from the Valhalla Temple even went to Dimitri himself. It’s confirmed: Roman Dimitri is a Three-Star Aura Swordsman. People who saw the fight with Homerus say Roman won. Some think Homerus was not careful and didn’t use his full power before Roman beat him.’

‘How old is Roman Dimitri?’ Benedict asked, leaning forward.

‘Twenty-five,’ the advisor replied.

Benedict was silent for a moment. ‘Twenty-five and already Three-Star…’ He slowly shook his head. ‘A truly amazing talent has appeared from the frontier.’ Three-Star at that age! It was almost unheard of. History showed that swordsmen this skilled often became legends, reaching even greater heights.

Benedict wanted this talent for himself. The King already had a powerful Royal Knight, known as the best swordsman in Cairo. Benedict wanted someone just as strong, or even stronger, on *his* side. He didn’t care about Roman Dimitri’s personality or background. If Roman was as talented as they said, Benedict would get him, no matter what it took.

‘What are the other groups doing?’ Benedict asked, his voice sharper now.

‘Everyone is moving fast,’ the advisor said. ‘Especially the empires. They are very interested.’

Benedict slammed his hand on the desk. ‘Damn those imperial fools! A great swordsman appears in *our* kingdom, and they dare to try and steal him before we even get a chance!’

Cairo was a kingdom pulled in different directions. There were four main groups, or ‘factions.’ First, the Royal Faction, loyal to the King. Second, the Aristocratic Faction, led by Marquis Benedict, the King’s uncle. Then, there were groups who supported the powerful empires of Chronos and Valhalla. It was sad but true: Cairo was a weak country. Even though some people openly supported foreign empires, Cairo couldn’t really stop them.

Benedict leaned forward, his voice serious. ‘Roman Dimitri could become a Five-Star swordsman, maybe even greater. Send someone *now* to Dimitri. Recruit him before anyone else does. Use whatever you need – money, promises, anything. Especially, we cannot let the Royal Family get him.’

‘Understood,’ the advisor said, bowing his head. The race to get Roman Dimitri had started. For the powerful people of Cairo, this new talent from the frontier was now the most important thing.

Meanwhile, in Dimitri, it was party time! Every day felt like a festival. ‘Roman Dimitri is a Ranker!’ people shouted, raising their drinks. Even though it wasn’t official yet, everyone knew Roman was now a Ranker of Cairo. People came from all over the area to Dimitri, excited to celebrate the first Ranker from the northeast. Baron Romero was thrilled. He spent freely, filling tables with delicious food and drink. Laughter and music filled the air from morning until late at night.

But in all this celebration, one person felt like he didn’t belong. Baron Lawrence. He let out a quiet breath, trying to hide his unease. He really didn’t want to be at this party. But he knew he had to come, to keep up good appearances with Dimitri. So, he forced a smile and joined the crowd, even though inside he felt anything but happy.

Lawrence wished he could just celebrate Roman’s success and be done with it. But other nobles wouldn’t let him forget. They kept reminding him of his mistake, like little needles poking at him.

‘Hahaha,’ one noble boomed, ‘This is wonderful for the northeast! Finally, a Ranker from our region!’

Another one leaned closer to Lawrence, a sly smile on his face. ‘Baron Lawrence, are you feeling alright? If Flora had married Roman, you would have had this amazing Ranker as family! If I were you,’ he chuckled, ‘I’d be too jealous to even show my face at this party!’

It was meant to sound like a friendly joke, but Lawrence knew it was mockery. All eyes were on him. He forced a casual smile. ‘Jealous? Why would I be jealous?’ he said, trying to sound calm. ‘The marriage didn’t work out, that’s all. I’m truly happy for Dimitri. It’s good for our region to have a strong family that can speak up in the capital. I hope Dimitri becomes even more powerful.’

‘Is that so?’ the noble said, raising an eyebrow, not really believing him.

‘As expected, Baron Lawrence is so kind!’ he added, and everyone laughed again. The party seemed cheerful and friendly. But underneath the smiles and laughter, the air was thick with unspoken feelings. And Baron Lawrence? He was, just as they suspected, burning with jealousy.

*Roman Dimitri could have been my son-in-law,* Lawrence thought bitterly. Just a few months ago! Everything was different then. Roman was ‘Dimitri’s fool,’ someone to be easily dismissed. Now? Roman’s worth had shot up like a rocket. He was untouchable. *Heir to Dimitri. Youngest Ranker in Cairo.* Every title, every word of praise for Roman felt like a punch to Lawrence’s gut, making his own life seem even more gray and empty.

At first, Lawrence had thought his regret would fade with time. But it didn’t. Watching Roman become more and more famous, more and more respected, made Lawrence feel worse every day. He grabbed his wine cup and drank deeply, gulping it down like water. He just wanted to forget everything about Roman, even for a little while.

*I made the right choice for Flora,* he told himself. He wouldn’t call her back now, not after everything. He respected Flora’s decision to go to the capital and truly hoped she would be happy. But still… wasn’t it natural to feel jealous? His stomach twisting in knots from the party, Baron Lawrence finally went home. As soon as he was inside, he made a magical call.

‘Sylvia, is that you?’

That’s right. Baron Lawrence was still unable to completely give up his lingering feelings for Roman.

Cairo Kingdom. The Western Front. The air hung heavy with the smell of smoke and death. A battle had just ended, leaving the ground around Cairo’s defenses covered in bodies and blood. ‘Damn imperial bastards!’ a soldier spat, kicking a broken sword. ‘I swear, I’ll tear those Chronos dogs apart with my bare hands one day!’ Cairo soldiers, their faces grim, worked to clean up the battlefield, their anger simmering.

Cairo was stuck between two powerful neighbors. To the west was the Chronos Empire, and to the south, the Hector Kingdom. Luckily, Hector wasn’t much trouble. But Chronos… Chronos was a constant threat. For years, they had been attacking Cairo, crossing the border and demanding Cairo become their servant. The Chronos Empire was huge and strong, one of the two biggest powers in the world, along with Valhalla. They were the land of the famous Emperor Alexander. Chronos *could* have destroyed Cairo completely, but for reasons of politics and power, they hadn’t. Instead, they just kept attacking, sending their soldiers across the border again and again. Cairo soldiers died defending their land, while some traitors inside Cairo even whispered that they should just give up and surrender to Chronos. It was a terrible situation for a weak country like Cairo. And it wasn’t just Chronos; Valhalla was also watching Cairo, wanting to control it.

Soldiers moved like ghosts through the battlefield, carrying the bodies of their friends. No matter how many times they saw it, they could never get used to it: good men dying because their country was weak. They gathered the bodies on a wide, empty space and built huge piles, like small mountains of the dead. Here, on the front lines, there was no time for proper funerals. Burning the bodies was the only respect they could offer their fallen comrades.

‘Rodwell, you alright?’ A man asked, noticing his friend staring at a dead body. Both men wore officer badges on their uniforms. Rodwell didn’t look away from the corpse. ‘I’m used to it,’ he said, his voice flat. ‘It’s not like this is new.’

‘I still didn’t know that the reality of the front line would be this bad. Even when I was assigned to the training camp for practical training at the academy, I thought a rosy future was waiting for me. But this is the reality. Dozens of times a day, I wonder if I should give up my diploma and return to my hometown.’

Rodwell gave a short, humorless laugh. ‘Yeah, I know.’ He remembered when he and his classmates were promoted to S-class at the Royal Academy. They had all been so excited, dreaming of glory and honor. But the reality of the front lines was brutal. The ‘practical training camp’ had been hell. He had survived it, become a commander, and been sent to this western front. He was supposed to spend a year here, gain experience, and then return to the academy a hero. But his dreams were fading fast. He wasn’t sure he could even last a year.

His colleague said, ‘Did you hear the news? Your brother. Roman Dimitri has become a Ranker.’

Instantly, Rodwell frowned slightly. He had heard the rumors about Roman. The title of youngest Ranker was a tremendous achievement that was known even on the front lines, and as a result, he was constantly asked questions about Roman by his superiors.

What kind of person is Roman, what does he like? Interest in his brother, whom he had never even wondered about before, exploded.

*Roman,* Rodwell thought. His brother. Could it really be true? Three-Star? *No.* Impossible. No matter how lucky Roman had been, the brother Rodwell remembered was useless, a fool. He couldn’t believe it.

‘It’s just a rumor,’ Rodwell said dismissively. ‘Some trick the family is playing. Roman can’t even fight, let alone be a Ranker. It’s just unofficial anyway, right? The truth will come out.’ He turned away, shaking his head. His brother was nothing to him. Rodwell had his own life to worry about, his own career to build. That was what mattered now.

The man everyone was talking about, Roman, was far away from the parties and celebrations. He was in his training yard, his face calm and focused. Sweat poured down his body from the intense training he had started at dawn. He took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, his senses sharp and alert, aware of every sound and movement around him. He was practicing the 염화신공, the powerful technique he had learned after his rebirth. It would take time to reach the level he had in his past life, but he could feel it: he was getting stronger, day by day.

‘What’s going on?’

Due to his sensitive senses, he heard someone’s presence.

Hans said with a face that wasn’t very surprised by the ghostly reaction, as it was a familiar occurrence.

‘A guest has come from outside.’

‘A guest?’

‘Yes. Shall I guide them in?’

There were no scheduled guests. Roman postponed the meeting for now, finished taking a shower, and moved to the reception room.

‘Nice to meet you. My name is Ventner.’

‘I am Roman Dimitri.’

The man smiled brightly and offered a handshake. It was a face he had never seen before.

When Roman gestured for everyone in the reception room to leave, Ventner finally revealed his true identity. ‘I’ll get straight to the point. I am a person who serves His Majesty the King of Cairo.’ Ventner leaned forward, his smile fading. ‘The reason I came to Dimitri is to offer you a great honor, Roman Dimitri: to become a Royal Knight of the Cairo Royal Family.’ The words hung in the air, heavy with importance.

The four factions of Cairo were now all in play. Ventner, from the Royal Faction, was the first to make his move. The quiet power of the frontier had been noticed. And the race to control Roman Dimitri had truly begun.