Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1084 - 775: The Black Sun Seen by Lanci

Sigrid’s face, tranquil in the peace, exuded ease, no longer on guard as she was during her duties.

Long lashes trembled slightly until she let out a gentle breath.

Seems like she didn’t give herself away.

Sigrid secretly rejoiced.

Fortunately, she hadn’t overdone it, or else she wouldn’t be able to use Sigrid as an identity any longer.

The identity of the little girl Sigrid was too convenient; whether she was hugging Lanci or clinging to him, it wouldn’t embarrass her. If asked, it would be chalked up to childlike innocence, and Lanci would have no choice but to indulge her.

Moreover, since Sigrid overlapped with some aspects of her own persona, sometimes expressing her own sentiments under the guise of Sigrid was especially fitting.

And most crucially, because Lanci treated both her and Sigrid with respect and honor, he wouldn’t easily associate different individuals with each other. In his eyes, he never labeled anyone; on the contrary, he valued each individual.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sigrid preemptively asked.

"I was reminded of a friend."

Lanci didn’t lie to her and answered truthfully.

"Boy or girl? What kind of person?"

Sigrid inquired further.

She was playing a confusing game.

"A woman incredibly strong, who unfortunately has set her sights on choosing someone stronger than herself as a partner, so she might never get married."

Lanci said, smiling.

"..."

Sigrid moved her hands behind her back to hide her trembling veins, struggling to maintain her smile,

"Can’t you help her?"

She asked, feigning concern.

"How can I help?"

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Lanci picked up a cup and sipped lightly.

He seemed to find Sigrid’s suggestion somewhat absurd.

"Marry her, of course. That would help her, wouldn’t it?"

Sigrid leaned on the couch, speaking nonchalantly as she kicked her legs, her toes making tapping sounds at the bottom of the coffee table,

"I’m actually quite curious. What would a child born from you and the strongest woman be like? Just how strong would that be?"

"??"

Lanci almost choked on his saliva.

He hadn’t expected Sigrid to speak such bold words.

Just as he was about to explain the problem to Sigrid.

"You are the strongest Pope, aren’t you?"

Sigrid said matter-of-factly.

"But..."

Lanci began to speak, then swallowed his words back down.

He couldn’t explain to Sigrid that this was actually the Shadow World; even though people understood the Saint Polante Pope to be Ninth-order, in reality, as a performer, he was only Sixth-order.

Since he couldn’t clarify, it made Sigrid’s logic seem flawless.

"..."

"I’ll help as much as I can, okay?"

Lanci finally sighed, deciding to end the topic with Sigrid.

Bang bang!

Suddenly.

Sigrid patted her cheeks, trying to wake herself up more fully.

Her cheeks turned red from her own slapping.

"What’s wrong?"

Lanci asked Sigrid.

"I’m feeling a bit sleepy again, so I’m just giving myself a wake-up call."

Sigrid answered with blushing cheeks.

Her face appeared naturally redder from the slapping.

Then Sigrid’s gaze shifted towards the window.

The chill of the Land of Perpetual Night seeped in through the cracks of the window, creating an icy current inside the room.

Lanci immediately put down his cup and stood to close the window.

He remembered how, during their time on the Snowfield, Sigrid would often struggle to wake up, with fatigue and sleepiness always surging in places where cold and warmth intermingled.

Back then, Sigrid was just a child who, waking up to such brutally cold weather with a chill still on her, would surely just want to burrow into a warm bed.

But she couldn’t act arbitrarily; her duties demanded that she stay alert at all times, even in a place as safe as this.

Over time, she had learned how to forcefully combat her own sleepiness.

Lanci stood by the curtain and glanced outside; the snowstorm within Little Night City had intensified.

Seeing the black snow and feeling the cold up close, he couldn’t help but yawn, covering his face with his hand.

It seems it wasn’t the best time to travel; better to rest and recuperate in Little Night City for a while.

"Do you remember? Back then, you’d coax me to sleep with a gentle yet slightly commanding tone, oh how I miss that."

Sigrid looked towards Lanci, who was closing the window, and asked him.

As if only when given a task could she truly settle down and sleep soundly.

"What, at your age, you still need to be coaxed to sleep?"

Lanci turned back and asked her with a smile.

"Yes!"

Sigrid opened her arms.

That gesture wasn’t only asking to be coaxed to sleep but also for a hug.

"...How is it that the older you get, the more like a child you become? You used to not be so cuddly as a child."

Of course, Lanci didn’t comply; he sat down, looking wordlessly at Sigrid.

"Hmph!"

Talia, wearing an apron, came from the kitchen with freshly baked casserole.

She stepped out just in time to catch their conversation.

"You are not allowed to hug her; beware, I might write a report."

Talia placed the dish on the table and gave Lanci a warning,

"Sigrid, at your age, you can’t just let any man hold you. If you want to nap later, I will hold you."

Then Talia addressed Sigrid.

"Okay!"

Sigrid agreed immediately with a childlike tone, giving Lanci a sly glance.

As if she had never expected him to hold her in the first place.

Securing a hug from Calila wasn’t a loss either.

"We’ll have dinner ready in less than half an hour; you can start without me."

Talia told the two on the sofa, with her hint of feline nature.

"We’ll wait for you."

Lanci stretched and replied, feeling a bit sleepy and hungry again.