Chapter 30: They Are All My Wings

"Your Highness, it’s been three years! Do you have any idea how you’ve spent these last three years?!"

Like a lit fuse, the Black Knight, Syl, spoke with rapid-fire intensity: "First, you worked with the Earth Demon race to develop harmless, miniature 'bishoujo' clay figures, then you collaborated with the Paper Demon race to mass-produce serialized manga that reads like a soap opera, and you even linked these brands together under some name like... the 'Frontier Library'?!"

"And the next step! What’s your next step? Are you going to go to the Light Demon race to make these clay dolls and paper cutouts move?!!!"

Herst listened with a calm expression, gently adjusting his framed glasses. "You’ve figured it out already? Actually, that project has been underway for a long time—"

"Enough!" Syl cried out, looking on the verge of a breakdown. "I don’t want to do the black-filling anymore!!!"

Herst nodded as if he finally understood. "In that case..."

"I’ll leave the most intricate screentone work to you—"

"I’ll kill you!!!"

Panting, Syl drew his longsword.

Herst raised a hand, and a piece of paper drifted down from the desk, landing on the layers of paper already piled on the floor.

In the next instant, the papers began to glow. A wave of demonic energy swept over Syl, and he suddenly went limp, looking haggard and drained.

"Th-this is..." Syl quickly used his remaining strength to expel the energy, his face filled with astonishment.

"These are the page layouts for volumes one, two... all the way to ten of *Super-I*," Herst said, presenting the papers to Syl. "Did you think the magic on these pages was just some common residue?"

"But they contain the most invisible of traps. A single volume’s worth of paper doesn't amount to much, but once all ten volumes with their distinct magical structures are gathered together, they form a source of magical pollution that permeates the soul."

Herst’s dim eyes flickered with fanaticism. "Once that happens, the tainted individual will become hopelessly addicted and obsessed with this manga, and in the end... they will lose the ability to distinguish between fiction and reality."

"At that point, whether we want to destroy that person or turn them into a puppet, it would be the simplest thing in the world."

"And once we choose the right target, the entire kingdom will fall into my hands."

Syl’s eyes widened in realization. "Your target is the First Prince, Ota?!"

"Exactly."

Herst curled his lips. "As a brother who has accompanied him for years—ha, what a disgusting term—I know exactly what that idiot loves... It’s a pity. If it weren't for that fire at the royal capital that seemed to destroy the demon dolls in his bookcase, Ota would already be in the palm of my hand."

"Fortunately, I’ve always made sure to have multiple contingency plans. As the source of the publication, I am certain that Ota has already collected the first nine volumes of the manga."

Herst wore a dark, sinister smile: "My foolish brother, go ahead and drown in your love for two-dimensional girls..."

Syl sat to the side, weighing the papers in his hand, then frowned curiously. "What if, just in case, those nine volumes of manga were destroyed by someone?"

"That is impossible," Herst said confidently.

"Given Ota’s timid and image-conscious nature, he would only lock such scandalous manga in his most private drawer, daring only to enjoy them in secret in the middle of the night."

"So even you know that what you draw is scandalous..."

"In any case, unlike dolls with detachable clothing, 'bishoujo' manga are filled with scenes that cannot be explained away, so Ota will only hide them where no one can reach them."

"And within the layered security of the royal palace," Herst glanced at Syl, "is there anyone who would dare touch Ota’s personal belongings, let alone destroy them?"

"Even the Hero Mino wouldn't dare!"

Syl’s spirit lifted, and he grew excited. "As expected of Prince Herst! I knew you weren't just the gloomy, good-for-nothing, disgusting manga artist you appear to be!"

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes. The black-filling."

Syl’s face fell once more.

...

Late at night.

Prince Ota, exhausted from a day of handling state affairs, stretched his arms.

He looked left and right, the fatigue in his eyes quickly suppressed. Full of anticipation, he took a key from his person, bent down, and gently turned the lock on his drawer.

As he pulled the drawer open, volumes of vibrant, colorful 'bishoujo' manga came into view.

"Hehehehe... *Super-I* is just so good. I feel awful if I don't read it for even a single day..."

"Hiss! This page layout is amazing... Master Aigo, you truly are a god!"

After a long while, Ota, wearing a doting, lovesick smile, closed the ninth volume and contentedly wiped the tears of emotion from his eyes.

He looked at the empty space in his bookcase, and the feeling of loss in his heart eased significantly.

Ever since he lost those precious dolls, he had spent a long time leaning on *Super-I* to get by. Page after page of cute and seductive girls was a profound comfort to his soul.

The author of this manga was definitely an emotional master of deep feeling! Only someone like that could draw such magnificent 'accidental exposure' panels!

"The tenth volume will be out soon, won't it? I'm so looking forward to it..." Ota put the ninth volume back into the drawer, his expression filled with longing.

"Will the next volume be the main stage for the tsundere, clumsy twin-tailed succubus, or the mature, seductive vampire duchess? If I can't see the tenth volume of *Super-I*, I'll die... *huff, puff*."

Ota had stuffed the drawer completely full because he had bought three copies of every single volume.

Yes, one set for reading, one set to pass on to fellow noble aficionados if the opportunity arose, and the final set for his collection—still unopened. He had decided that one day, he would pass them down to every generation of monarchs as a national treasure.

Ota stroked the smooth, exquisite illustrated cover, his eyes filled with attachment.

"Dolls are just soulless clay, but in these stories, the author has breathed life into them!"

"You are the pillars of my soul!"

In the eyes of those vulgar 'shipping war' manga fans, debating whether to like this character or that one always sparked fiery arguments, but Ota was different. As a king, he had plenty of capacity.

"Only children make choices. I, the Prince, want them all," Ota sighed deeply.

"Every girl in these 'bishoujo' manga is one of my wings!"

Seeing that it was already quite late, he closed the drawer and, after carefully locking it again, left the study.

...

A long time later.

Dark ripples emerged from the void, and then, inside the study, all the books began to sway imperceptibly.

A transparent phantom coalesced into the shape of a book, looking down from high above, inspecting and sensing—

The Book Demon, having regained a sliver of its strength, opened its scarlet eyes and let out a soft laugh:

"Now is the time... for the hunt."