NOVPUBTalia had to admit that the Demon Race was indeed as described, prone to being overly emotional.
The more she became accustomed to and accepted the lifestyle of human society, the more she felt that her own kin were becoming like strangers.
"Maybe he realized when he was about to succeed that ninety-nine steps are ninety-nine steps and one step is one step,"
Lanci said, looking toward the dimly lit street ahead.
"If he discovered that the final step was an unreachable goal, the more so it hurt him, since as a pioneer and practitioner, he knew better than anyone whether his ideals could truly succeed or were merely an illusion."
Lanci felt that if it were him before, he would have confidently thought if he could meet Perlman earlier, maybe he could unravel his dilemma, preventing the tragic incident in Huadu.
But now, thinking back, perhaps what Professor Bolao told him before setting off was more correct—
It’s not that the greater the power, the greater the responsibility. Sometimes, the greater your power, one wrong thought could lead to greater consequences. Once your power reaches a certain level, you need to learn to be an observer.
If it’s not absolutely necessary to intervene, then it’s even more important to consider what changes your interference might bring.
Back then, Lanci only remembered these words from Professor Bolao, but now, reflecting on them, he really felt their impact.
The death of Enon made him realize he needed to think more and not be overly confident.
"So was Perlman wrong from the start?"
Talia asked softly, eyes downcast.
She always doubted the coexistence of the Demon Race and humans.
She didn’t believe that she and Antanas and others were truly coexisting with humans, because they were still disguising themselves to live a peaceful life in Ichrite.
That wasn’t coexistence.
For someone like Hyperion who lived in Ichrite without any deception, even though she was born a Duke’s daughter and suffered grievances and prejudices since childhood, she wasn’t happy. She even dreamt that the people of Ichrite wouldn’t treat her as part of the Demon Race.
If being together with humans was fundamentally a mistake for the Demon Race, she didn’t know why, but she felt emptiness inside.
"I think, I can’t give an answer either,"
Lanci said, looking at Talia.
It was because Grand Sorcerer Parlony’s hatred for the Demon Race triggered a disaster and left seeds of hatred, the greed of The Senate allowed it to take root and sprout until it indirectly killed Perlman’s daughter, passing the hatred to Perlman and shattering his ideals, which then sparked another cycle of vengeance.
Perhaps the chaos caused by Perlman would make the human victims’ families remember the hatred, ready to explode again one day.
It was hard to say what the ultimate outcome would be.
This was the cycle of cause and effect. 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓅𝓊𝓫.𝒸ℴ𝓶
"Is that so."
Talia was unmoved by Lanci’s answer.
Or rather, she seemed to have anticipated this answer and had prepared herself to mask her disappointment.
"But if you ask me, someone has to be the first to believe, even if it might mean being betrayed, otherwise if no one steps forward first, we’ll never realize a better ideal,"
Lanci continued.
His tone was more decisive; his gaze at Talia carried the usual warm smile.
"..."
Talia turned her head and stared at his profile.
His cool, noble eyes could not hide a bit of bewilderment and emotion.
It was as if she wanted to keep him at a distance while also wanting to probe a little more.
Lanci noticed her gaze, and their eyes met.
"What’s wrong, Tata?"
Lanci tilted his head and asked.
"Look, masks."
Talia simply stated in a flat tone, naturally shifting her gaze to the stall behind Lanci.
Colorful masks adorned the entire wall, shining brightly under the illumination of the Magic Lantern.
They were either joyful or sad, ferocious or gentle.
"Masks from the Poseen Kingdom are truly interesting. It’s a craftsmanship I’ve never seen,"
Lanci said as he examined the masks with great interest.
"Young man, miss, this year’s handmade new masks are definitely different from last year’s. My craftsmanship on this street is quite remarkable!"
The stall owner, noticing their attention, warmly spoke to them.
Given the previous years, they would have sold out quickly, but this year the festival wasn’t as lively, so the vendors were more proactive in drumming up business.
"..."
Talia seemed thoughtful as she gently touched a purple-black mask with pointed horns, her fingertips tracing the uneven surface.
It was as if she was very fond of this style.
"I’ll take this one."
Lanci had already started to take out his wallet and spoke to the owner.
"You’re amazing, young man, to spot at a glance what your girlfriend wants,"
the owner said with a chuckle.
These customers were brisk in their purchases, and he liked that.
Especially since the masks of the Demon Race were hard to sell that night, their willingness to buy was a relief.
"We’re not in that kind of relationship,"
they both denied immediately.
"Oh, so you’re married,"
the owner realized.
"..."
Both seemed tired; they had been misidentified too many times that day.
Arguing further would only complicate matters.
After a moment of silence, Talia finally took down the purple-black demon mask.
"You should buy one too, young man. Buying a pair of masks from my shop is a terrific deal. I’ll give you a 10% discount,"
the owner pitched right away.
Lanci smiled helplessly.
