Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 71 - Magus Veil, Part 1

Van sat silently at the living room table, fingers tapping restlessly on his thigh in rhythm, though no sound escaped him. His gaze drifted blankly to the window, where moonlight slipped through, casting a soft glow that offered brief solace from the storm of questions swirling in his mind.

The gentle sound of water flowing from the kitchen pulled him back into the moment, grounding him.

"Sorry for the wait," Amoria's voice flowed casually from the kitchen. "You came by so suddenly, the tea almost went cold." She poured gracefully, the steady stream filling the sturdy wooden cups.

Van turned his head slowly, watching the way her small frame bent over the kettle, her hair cascading freely down her back, catching the faint glimmer of light from the flame dancing beneath the pot.

As the sound of pouring water filled the quiet, Van felt his confusion ebb, replaced by the serene glow of moonlight and the flicker of firelight that bathed the room—and her presence.

"I was lucky you were still awake," Van murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "And your daughter?"

Amoria placed the kettle down, carrying two cups toward the table. "Don't worry about Liz," she said warmly, her smile soft. "She's a deep sleeper. And, as I keep telling you, she wouldn't mind you being here as much as you think." She set a cup before Van and settled opposite him, her own steps echoing lightly in the quiet room.

"As for me..." Amoria leaned back in her seat, exhaling over her tea, causing the steam to swirl and drift. "I had a feeling you'd come, so I stayed awake a little longer."

Van raised a brow. "A message from your goddess?" he asked, half-joking.

Amoria shook her head with a quiet chuckle. "No... It was how you spoke to me at the guild today. I hated it," she admitted, voice low. "A part of me hoped you hated it too. So, I stayed awake... hoping you'd come." She lifted her gaze, meeting his.

Van's eyes lingered on her, on the way she cupped the tea delicately, gently blowing over it to cool it once more. The quiet that followed was not uncomfortable.

After a moment of quiet, Van let his mind wander before speaking.

"I doubt that would burn you, even if you drank it boiling." His voice was casual, but it made her pause and lift her gaze.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, tilting her head, her cup still cradled gently in her hands.

Van gave a small shake of his head. "It's just... something I noticed. As my resistance grew, I stopped needing to blow on hot drinks. Boiling tea wouldn't hurt my throat or stomach anymore. I bet your resistance is the same."

Amoria pondered for a moment, tapping a finger against her chin. "Hmm, you're right. If it's just boiling water, I can drink it fine. It feels perfectly normal, no matter how hot it is." Her lips curled into a small smile. "I actually tried it once, just out of curiosity."

Van nodded. "So why do you still blow on it?"

Her eyes softened as she stared at the rising steam. "It feels like... if I stop, I'd lose something." She traced her finger along the rim of the cup. "Blowing on tea, it's part of who I am. I've always loved tea—not just drinking it, but the whole experience. If I just gulp it down, I feel like I'd lose that part of me."

"... Like pretending to get drunk?" Van mused, recalling Marcy's behavior.

"Exactly!" Amoria's eyes brightened. "I don't drink, but Marcy and others do—they act like they can get drunk. Not because they need to, but because they want to keep a part of themselves alive, the part that remembers how fun it used to be." She chuckled softly. "Everyone plays along. It's like... they cherish the memory, even if they can't feel it anymore."