Morvyr’s pupils contracted.

The claim was so farfetched that anyone would quickly doubt it, and yet Morvyr believed him.

He didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because Noah had never once exaggerated anything thus far.

Perhaps it was because every impossible thing the devil had claimed until now had eventually proven to be true.

Or perhaps... It was because lying about something like this served no purpose.

Whatever the reason, doubt never entered Morvyr’s mind. Instead, he realized that his understanding of Noah had once again fallen short of reality, despite how highly he had already begun to regard him.

That perspective shattered the moment Noah casually admitted to killing an angel.

For as long as demons could remember, angels had represented the pinnacle of humanity’s strength.

Only humanity’s greatest champions could serve as vessels worthy of one. Even then, what entered the battlefield was never an angel in its entirety.

Their existence was simply too great for the mortal world to contain.

Instead, they manifested through a suitable vessel, allowing only a fragment of themselves to descend.

Yet even that fragment had repeatedly changed the outcome of wars.

Entire armies had collapsed because an angel entered the battlefield.

Generals had fallen before them.

Even the Demon King treated their appearance with the seriousness they deserved.

Among demonkind, one belief had remained unchanged for generations.

Only those worthy of becoming a general possessed the strength necessary to challenge an angel.

Even then, strength alone solved nothing.

The ability to fight an angel and the achievement of slaying one had never been considered the same.

Many generals spent their entire lives without ever accomplishing such a feat.

Others met an angel only once and never returned.

To kill a messenger of the Gods was an honor that even some of the Demon King’s greatest subordinates never attained.

It was the kind of accomplishment that permanently altered how all of demonkind viewed an individual.

Morvyr became acutely aware of his own heartbeat.

The condition of the angel no longer mattered to him. Whether it had manifested imperfectly, whether its vessel had already been wounded, or whether Noah had somehow forced circumstances in his favor, none of it changed the conclusion.

And yet, the devil recalled it with the same indifference someone might show when remembering an especially troublesome hunt.

That casualness disturbed Morvyr far more than the accomplishment itself.

Could Noah’s appearance truly be nothing more than coincidence?

Each time, Morvyr dismissed the idea. Hope had a habit of making impossible things seem reasonable.

Yet the more the devil revealed about himself, the harder that explanation became to accept.

Humanity had always believed their God watched over them.

Whenever demonkind gained too much ground, another hero emerged. Another worthy vessel appeared. And another angel descended.

Hope itself seemed to answer humanity’s prayers.

And for the longest time since he first became a demon, he wondered when demonkind would finally receive an answer of their own.

Of course, Morvyr’s faith in the Demon King’s strength was absolute.

The Demon King had always stood at the very pinnacle of demonkind.

He carried the mantle passed down through every Demon King before him, preserving the legacy they had built over countless generations. Because of that legacy, demonkind had endured, allowing powerful generals to continue emerging.

The Demon King was the pillar upon which all of demonkind stood.

However, he still wasn’t a god. And to fight against the Humans’ God, they would need someone who could bring that balance.

And that’s where Morvyr believed that Noah came in.

—

Noah noticed the change in the elf almost immediately.

Morvyr had already been staring at him with an unusual amount of intensity, but something about it had shifted.

The curiosity and admiration from before had deepened into something that honestly made him a bit uncomfortable.

Noah had no idea what delusional conclusion the elf reached, but judging by the way Morvyr’s breathing had changed and how tightly his attention remained fixed upon him, it was probably something excessive.

He briefly considered addressing it before dismissing it. Whatever the elf would say would probably only lead to something that he didn’t want to do.

Besides, there still was a lot to be done.

Morvyr’s arrival had already delayed him long enough. If this discussion was going to persist, then he would rather discuss the forces behind the upcoming attack.

Whatever strange idea had taken root inside the elf’s mind could wait.

"Are you finished?"

The sudden question and Noah’s impatient tone was enough to drag Morvyr out of his thoughts.

The elf was a little agitated from his earlier excitement, but now he was also a bit confused.

"Finished?"

Noah didn’t answer immediately; instead, he looked up to the murky skies before returning his attention to him.

"You still have questions. And I still haven’t heard anything about the information you said you had about the people attacking. Not to mention I still have to prepare for whatever this storm is. So unless you plan on spending the rest of the day staring at me, you should probably ask the next one."

Morvyr’s expression was a clear indicator that he had nearly forgotten about why he was here.

His mouth quickly opened for his next question. But now he found himself hesitating again.

This was different from before. Even though he said he was no longer worried about winning or losing, he was now worried about asking a question that would make him look like a fool.

Or worse, he might waste an opportunity he would never receive again.

The elf immediately looked away, scrambling to reorganize questions he had already spent considerable time preparing.

There was no reason for him to feel nervous.

Noah had already agreed to answer. Nothing about the situation had changed.

He drew another deep breath as he calmed his thoughts. He reminded himself that he still possessed information Noah needed. As long as what he offered in return proved worthwhile, there should be no issue with asking everything he wished to know.

"Excuse my earlier... oversight. I would still like to continue where we left off. I have no doubts about what you are, but my next question concerns the dungeon core within your territory."

Noah’s expression remained unchanged.

"That isn’t a question about me."

Morvyr paused; the way his eyes went blank as though he couldn’t comprehend what was wrong had earned a loud snort from Bolas that he couldn’t keep in.

He had been so focused upon choosing something meaningful that he had immediately repeated the same mistake.

"Then do you possess a dungeon core?"

"Yes."

The answer came without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Morvyr waited for Noah to elaborate.

After a few breaths passed, a faint strain appeared around the elf’s eyes. He realized that it wasn’t that Noah was being difficult but that the devil was going to stay true to his words and his rules no matter what.

"And what is unusual about your dungeon core?"

"That is another question about the core and not me."

Morvyr’s lips parted before slowly closing again.

The restriction Noah had imposed was far more troublesome than it initially appeared, even when Morvyr wasn’t trying to find a loophole.

He could ask whether Noah possessed something, whether it affected him, or how he personally interacted with it. But the moment he tried to inquire about the object itself, Noah simply refused to continue.

In theory, Morvyr could still uncover everything he wanted through a long series of carefully arranged questions. Given enough time, each answer would eventually allow him to reconstruct the truth.

Unfortunately, even Morvyr understood how unbearable that would become.

He abandoned the dungeon core for the moment and moved toward questions whose answers could not be separated from Noah himself.

"How strong are you compared to your other creatures? Specifically, your strongest ones?"

Noah remained silent for several seconds, leaving Morvyr to initially wonder whether he had crossed another boundary.

However, Noah was merely considering the question.

"Stronger," Noah eventually answered.

Morvyr’s brow twitched. "That much was obvious."

"Then you should have asked a more specific question."

The elf restrained the response that nearly escaped him.

"How much stronger are you?"

"I don’t know."

This time, Morvyr’s confusion was genuine.

"You don’t know?"

"Their strength is part of mine. Treating them as something separate from me would make the comparison meaningless."

Morvyr’s attention sharpened.

That response revealed far more than the direct answer he had originally sought.

"You consider the strength of your subordinates to be your own?"

"Of course. They became strong because of me, and I became stronger because of them. Why would I separate the two?"

The answer sounded simple when Noah said it, yet Morvyr knew most powerful beings would never view their followers that way.

Generals valued their armies. The Demon King valued an individual’s power and their accomplishments. Even so, their subordinates remained an extension of their authority rather than an inseparable part of their personal strength.

Noah appeared incapable of drawing that distinction.

"Does the dungeon core strengthen both you and your creatures?"

"Yes."

"In the same way?"

"No."

Morvyr waited again. Once more, Noah offered nothing beyond the answer requested.

"How does it strengthen you?"

"It provides me with mana, and strengthens my connection to my territory."

"And how does it strengthen them?"

"Again, that question isn’t about me."

Morvyr stared at him. It was hard not to be irked, regardless of his personal feelings.

A quiet sound escaped Bolas from nearby. Judging by the way the drake turned his head, he was either coughing or attempting to conceal his amusement.

Morvyr merely gave him a glance before ignoring him.

"Do your creatures grow stronger through their connection to you?"

"Yes."

"Do you grow stronger through your connection to them?"

"Yes." Noah answered without much hesitation. Morvyr had yet to ask anything whose answer could genuinely endanger him or those connected to him.

"Does that mean every time one of them becomes stronger, you do as well?"

"To some extent."

That answer prompted several more questions.

Morvyr asked whether Noah received every ability his creatures possessed. He did not. He asked whether Noah could use their mana as his own. Sometimes. He asked whether the death of one of them would weaken him. Noah admitted that it could, although the loss itself would concern him far more than any power that disappeared with them.

Each answer created several new questions, yet they also revealed a pattern Morvyr had failed to recognize before.

Noah’s strength could not be measured by examining Noah alone.

His creatures, his territory, the dungeon core, and even the strange bonds connecting them were all parts of the same structure. Removing one element might weaken the whole, but strengthening any one of them could also benefit everything else.

"How many creatures can yo-"

"How about we stop here."

Moryvr was more than surprised that Noah had stopped him, especially when he had already been so open. But then again he began to believe that he perhaps was getting closer to getting the devil to reveal something too sensitive.

But what Noah said next proved that once again he was thinking too much.

"Although I was willing to answer all of your questions. The amount you asked was already excessive compared to mine. And as I said before, I still have a lot that I need to do."

Noah was about to go on, but he noticed that Morvyr was about to say something else.

"You don’t have to worry; I never go back on my word. If you were sincere about helping in the upcoming fight, then that means you’ll also have your time to finish your questions later."

Morvyr slowly closed his mouth.

He could hardly complain. Noah had already answered far more than anyone in his position normally would.

Yet for someone willing to answer almost anything, the devil possessed an extraordinary talent for revealing exactly as much as each question demanded and nothing more.