Vanguard of the Eternal Night

translator: xiin

editor: kara

As soon as Victor had closed his eyes and opened them again, the scene had changed again.

He saw a beautiful, young old antique close by, tender and fresh. He looked like a jade carving in the early morning sun.

Victor had a confused thought: He looks very tasty…

Then, his stomach made a growling sound and woke up the beautiful youth in front of him.

"What kind of gaze is that?"

As soon as Little Tyron had opened his eyes, he gave off a chilling aura. He stared at Victor for a moment, buttoned up his clothes at the speed of light, and then swished out of the bed.

"You've become lawless with my indulgence." The little old antique spoke coldly, "I won't feed you today. You should reflect on yourself."

Victor's stomach growled again.

The little old antique, "I won't feed you tomorrow either."

Victor: QAQ Wait a minute! I can't control my stomach!! I've been wronged!

Both of them fell silent for a moment. Ten seconds later, Victor's stomach didn't growl again, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief.

Little Tyron put on his coat, buckled on two wristbands, and pushed the door open to leave.

Victor noticed that there were some bluebell flowers on the table as well as some scattered bottles and containers, mixed in with two darts. Little Tyron didn't seem to be guarding against him at all, running off first and letting him randomly run around in his bedroom.

The fifteen-year-old young antique was already a gold-medal assassin in the Bluebell Association.

However, he was a big headache for the organization, because he wasn't very obedient.

He'd been very obedient when he had still been relatively weak, learning what he was told. Later though, he had gradually grown up and begun to play a greater role in the organization. He had begun to constantly feel out where the bottom line was in terms of his ability to make mischief…

This type of testing and exploration was typical of young demons. If a young demon was captured and became a mage's demon, they were very likely to secretly play tricks, do evil things, steal food, and perform all kinds of bad deeds in order to judge how important they were to their master and how far their master would tolerate their behavior.

After having finished this kind of evaluation, the little demon would begin to do whatever he wanted, acting recklessly and lawlessly. What made people even angrier was that they couldn't control him!

The little old antique was precisely this kind of demon.

Bluebell had used a lot of resources to train him up. He was the only young assassin from the same batch who'd become a gold-medal-level assassin in only seven years. The longer he spent with the organization, the more reluctant they were to give up on him.

This was because he was getting stronger and stronger, and he had already broken through the limits for most mortals. His lineage determined his talent and upper limit, making his potential far above any human being.

Bluebell needed him more and more while he needed them less and less.

On one occasion, Little Tyron had been instructed to deal with a team of Holy Knights.

The Holy Knights of the Holy See had never had a good relationship with Bluebell, and this kind of task was very normal. It had remained like this until Tyron found out that the paladins were investigating a human count who sold Elven slaves.

"Not killing them," The little old antique expressed coldly, "Or, I'll kill the Holy Knights after the count is dead. You choose."

His boss told him, "Give me a reason not to deal with you."

Tyron replied, "I'm stronger than you. Power means freedom. Freedom is the power to say 'no'."

Bluebell had been very angry. The count was one of their very important sponsors. The elf trade was lucrative, and the count was generous&#k2013;&#k2013;a gold-medal assassin wasn’t as important to them as a capital stream.

So, they had gone and caught Victor.

Victor had been really confused in the beginning. At first, he hadn’t realized that he’d been &#k2018;caught’. Basically, he had regarded the Bluebell Association as the little old antique’s &#k2018;home base’&#k2026; cough, cough. So, he’d taken the initiative and gone over when he had received the letter.

Later, he had found out that Bluebell was using him to threaten the little old antique.

Victor: Really angry, slight smile.jpg

The mage, Victor, launched his magic--biubiubiu--and had nearly flattened a branch of Bluebell. The assassins, who were inside, snuck away and disappeared like birds and beasts.

In this regard, Little Tyron expressed, "Worthy of being a human being that I raised."

Victor: "We're done for. Will Bluebell come after us?"

Tyron: "Just hide for a while, and it'll be fine. I'll be stronger in two years. When the time comes, they won't be chasing to kill us. They'll instead come back, crying and begging for me to go back."

Instead of killing the paladins, Little Tyron had killed the count, who sold Elven slaves.

This was another very long story. In short, when he had come back, Song of Triumph was pinned to his waist, and he had two broken dragon teeth in his bag.

Victor: It's called Deep Silence! Deep Silence! Deep Silence! Hahahaha! I'm going to see it come into being with my own eyes!

In order to cast Deep Silence, the two of them had entered the dwarves' underground empire from the East. They had lived there for another half-year, and at this time, the young old antique had gradually grown up into a beautiful youth. He would attract all the bees and butterflies every day when he went out.

Dwarves and elves had always been antagonistic towards each other, and their aesthetic differences were like opposite ends of the world. It had remained this way until the dwarves met the beautiful young Tyron.

……

By virtue of his own beauty, Tyron subverted countless dwarves' aesthetic values to the point where a certain dwarven princess cried and chased after him the whole way.

It was under such circumstances that the little old antique's view of mate selection was forced to grow up at the speed of light. Sometimes, when he was tired of refusing, he would point to Victor and ask, "Do you guys see him?"

The dwarves: "???"

Little Tyron: "The human I've raised from young. My child bride."

Victor: (⊙v⊙) Okay, okay.

Victor acted out his part perfectly. He looked like a very well-behaved and obedient little quail, was a mage, and could also teach. He could make potions and scrolls, and in short, he was clever, smart, and superior in every aspect.

The dwarven princess was heartbroken and ran away in tears.

That same night, the little old antique packed up and led Victor away.

Victor asked him, "Your dragon tooth dagger hasn't been forged yet though, right? We still haven't yet found the right craftsman."

Tyron replied, "Dwarves are not suitable for such small things. I'm going to take a look at the Elven Empire."

As soon as they had entered the Elven Empire, the little demon king disguised himself up as a beautiful young elf.

This melancholy, princely temperament was just like his half-fae mother's. Anyone who looked at him would be heartbroken, and even centuries-old, straight-as-steel men would feel their fingers go soft around him.

He hadn't appeared so helpless even when he'd been five years old. Victor's fatherly care couldn't help but burst out, and he acted so kind that he felt that he was about to go up to heaven.

However, in the dead of night, this melancholy, beautiful youth suddenly changed personalities, "Hah, stupid mortals."

Victor, who was scared to death every time, "……"

In short, they began to look for craftsmen who could make dragon tooth daggers in the Elven Empire.

They had indeed been able to find a craftsman, but that craftsman also had a daughter who was of age.

Yes.

After she saw Tyron… there was no 'after'.

Tyron pointed to Victor and said simply, "This is my child bride."

Ah. Another innocent girl with a broken heart. We can only hope time will heal your wounds.

When they went back in the evening, Tyron planned to go further south in search of the ancient desert empire.

Victor said, "Actually, I've looked at how the dwarves and elves do it. See, if we build a dwarven blast furnace, then use the elves' stack-forging method…"

Tyron: "……"

Victor finished drawing up the workshop in one night, calculated the final result, and then drew out a sketch of the final product. He had seen Deep Silence before, so his paintings were incredibly vivid and beautiful, perfectly matching the little old antique's tastes.

When the little old antique had seen Deep Silence, he loved the drawing so much that he couldn't let it go. At the same time, he had said, "Fine then, I acknowledge your work. Since you want to be a real child bride, it's not impossible."

Victor: "……"

Oh, no.

Victor hadn't planned on having anything happen in his dream.

The little old antique saw his reaction, and his face gradually darkened. Half a beat later, he flipped over the wall and left.

The next day, the little old antique found a 'girlfriend' and brought her back for Victor to see.

Victor angrily flipped the table: I don't want to have this dream anymore!!! No more!!

Then, he calmed down and looked carefully. He found out that this 'girlfriend' was actually a prostitute who the old antique had found and hired for the act.

Victor: "……"

Tyron: "……"

The two of them sat across from each other silently, looking at each other.

The 'girlfriend' served tea to Tyron and sneered at Victor.

Half an hour later, the two of them were still motionless like mountains, their gazes intertwined.

The 'girlfriend' had some acting skills. She gasped and panted and shifted her waist, continuing to taunt Victor.

"Pa!!!"

The little old antique couldn't bear it anymore. He broke his glass and said, "It's the human being I raised. How can it ever be your turn to teach him?"

"……"

The 'girlfriend' then said, "Why didn't you say that you two were having a couple's quarrel earlier?!! You just had to spend money and find this old lady for your amusement!! Who wants your stinky money?! You damned man, do you not know how to coax your lover just because you're born attractive?! Hmph! When your lover runs away, you can go and cry by yourself!!" After saying all this, she slammed the door and left.

Victor: "……"

Tyron: "……"

Victor finished the two dragon tooth daggers and gave them to the little old antique. Without another word, the little old antique took one and named it Deep Silence, then gave the other one back to Victor for self-defense.

According to the customs of this world, they were now engaged.

However, the little old antique never mentioned it again. They continued to live like friends, and in the years that followed, the tracks of their travel thoroughly covered the map of the mainland.

Tyron became stronger and stronger, more and more like Victor's old antique.

Perhaps because he hadn't yet experienced the era of the blazing angel, he wasn't as reticent and sometimes had a young man's playfulness.

He once had put a bluebell flower at the head of the human emperor's bed, scaring the entire empire. At the same time, it had scared the Bluebell Association so much that they had come to talk to him about a contract again--however, this time, it wasn't a one-sided contract.

He gradually became invincible, and the world didn't even dare to mention his name.

There was another scene in Victor's dream.

He seemed to have transformed himself into a half-immortal in order to accompany his longer-lived old antique.

"It's good to be a mage. Otherwise, if I die again, it'll be very painful for the little old antique." Victor thought to himself.

In the blink of an eye, his little old antique who would be heartbroken when he buried a cat, the same old antique who committed mischief all over the world, became a gray-haired old antique.

In his old age, Tyron lived on a snowy mountain, and the snowfall closed the mountain off all year around, eliminating the possibility of having anyone come searching for him.

Victor used magic to build a hot spring and a garden with a constant temperature. He wished he could dig out the entire spring season in the middle of that snowy mountain for him.

The old antique slowly grew older. The curls that had been crimson when he had been a child darkened and turned grey, and the pale, gold elven eyes were darkened to a dark gold. Only his hands were as stable and powerful as ever.

His steps grew a little shaky, and he preferred to meditate on Victor's sofa--this was a posture that Victor was very familiar with.

Victor had once thought that this was an aspect of Tyron's rare playfulness, but now, he suddenly realized: This was an elderly gesture.

The old antique laid down like this and said, "It's said that after a demon dies in the main material plane, they will turn into an insect egg in the abyss and be reborn. This possibility also exists for those with mixed blood."

Victor hugged him tenderly, covering him with a blanket the way he had with Little Tyron when he had said he felt sad. He said, "Wait a while for me. I promise we'll meet again in a better place."

The old antique continued, "Don't quibble. Let me think about how to raise up a human being in the abyss."

Victor waited and waited, but the old antique never spoke again.

one more chapter~