CHAPTER 126: EORYUN’S BLUNDER

"Under normal circumstances, you should’ve stayed in the clan lands for several months. Based on that timeline, after we finished our tasks, we would’ve met you again naturally. But who knew you’d come out of the clan lands in less than a day? Even the Third Sage couldn’t have predicted such a sudden turn of events!"

Under Illiya’s rebuttal, Eoryun’s gaze drifted, and he began to feel guilty.

"So, Eoryun, would you say your accusations against me are, in some ways, baseless?" Illiya’s tone was calm and steady as he spoke. "Wouldn’t you agree, Eoryun?"

Eoryun’s body stiffened, and cold sweat instantly formed on his forehead. His back unconsciously straightened. It wasn’t Illiya’s actual words that made him so nervous—it was the threat lurking behind them.

Just because this blond elf spoke in the gentlest tone didn’t mean Eoryun couldn’t hear the menace behind the words. This was definitely a threat, wasn’t it?

It was practically "If you keep running your mouth, I’ll make sure you’re finished." Of course, given the elves’ refined temperament, Illiya probably wouldn’t say something so crude. But the meaning was there, loud and clear.

Having spent enough time with his companions, Eoryun had become particularly sensitive to their subtle expressions and minor gestures. After all, it wasn’t easy to cling to a big thigh like Illiya.

In order to maintain his laid-back, carefree life, Eoryun had learned the essential skill of reading the room. He knew he couldn’t keep digging himself into a deeper hole—he had to salvage this precarious situation.

For example, he needed to find a way to smooth things over seamlessly, and hopefully win back the favor of one of his most important allies.

Wuwuwuwu... was the skin of all elves really this thin?

"Eoryun? Why aren’t you saying anything?" Illiya’s voice sounded again, calm as still water.

To Eoryun’s ears, that sentence immediately transformed into, "If you don’t take the blame, I’ll kill you right now and grind your bones to dust."

He couldn’t help shivering, alarms blaring at full volume in his mind. Eoryun no longer dared to play the silent game.

"Hahahahahahahaha, I was just joking! Why’s everyone so tense?" Eoryun forced a smile, resisting the urge to curl his toes and dig them into the castle floor.

"I just... I’d just finished receiving the inheritance and then crossed the main continent. My sense of time got a little mixed up. I thought ages had passed, but apparently it was only a day. I truly didn’t expect that."

"You have to understand, even with the support of time magic, my consciousness was still in closed-door cultivation for several months. So when I came out, I subconsciously assumed the outside world had also moved forward by a few months."

"In short, I was just being stupid." Eoryun’s mouth twitched as he forced a teasing tone.

Inside, he felt so embarrassed he could die.

He didn’t even know how to describe the emotions he had while offering this explanation.

At first glance, it sounded like a solid excuse, but in a closer look would reveal that while he was technically explaining, he wasn’t really explaining at all. He was talking, but not truly addressing the issue—his answer didn’t actually match the question.

The explanation was out there, but whether others believed it or not was their business. As for him—well, he had to believe it himself, qvq.

Fortunately, while the people of the Demon Realm weren’t fans of endless chatter and preferred direct action, they weren’t clueless about reading the room.

The Demon Realm was fiercely competitive, after all. Seizing resources wasn’t just about brute force—it required cunning, and both intelligence and emotional sensitivity were crucial.

Now that someone had swooped down from the sky—seemingly a friend of the elf prince—and offered an official-sounding explanation, the demons all wisely put on a look of sudden enlightenment and quickly averted their eyes.

Come on, demons could be very vigilant, okay? None of them wanted to end up in the elves’ little black books—no one knew when they’d suddenly be targeted for revenge.

As the race that most often "interacted" with elves, they had a very authoritative understanding of this dynamic.

There was no need to say more. It was all just a bitter, silent lament.

After a moment of silence, the scene gradually regained its liveliness. The street, which had just seemed to be frozen, quickly returned to its bustling state. The cries of hawkers and the chatter of passersby filled the air once more.

Eoryun, seeing this, let out a heavy sigh of relief. He knew that the matter had been settled for now, and the reason was probably that everyone had silently agreed not to provoke an elf—because the consequences of doing so were beyond imagination.

With the danger averted, Eoryun turned around to face the golden-haired elf, an obvious smile of flattery plastered across his face. He rubbed his hands together slowly and spoke in a low, humble voice, "Illiya, look..."

Illiya let out a cold, dismissive snort, his expression completely indifferent. He was, after all, the most frustrated party here.

Honestly, this explanation was worse than no explanation at all.

And don’t think he hadn’t noticed the way those demons’ eyes had shifted to him before quickly looking away, each one glimmering with a look that could only be described as "philosophical." He wasn’t blind, after all.

If it weren’t for the fact that this wasn’t his territory, that certain young master might already have grass growing three meters high on his grave.

Oh well. Since he’d willingly chosen to befriend such a magnet for trouble, he’d just have to endure it. No big deal. Stay strong, that’s all.

Illiya took a deep breath, calming his turbulent emotions. He began to ask Eoryun about other matters—after all, he had a whole host of questions he wanted to get answered. For instance: how was it that he’d only spent a day in seclusion when it should’ve taken him several months?