After listening to Little Bottle's chatter, Gwof had a pretty good idea of this Devil's background.
He glanced at the empty glass bottle at his feet, and Little Bottle added at the right moment, "This bottle looks ordinary, but it can actually isolate magic. Back then, that Angel used it to lock away my magic.
But it's not that sturdy; it's just a bit tougher than a regular glass bottle. If you really throw it hard, it'll still shatter into pieces."
Gwof bent down to pick up the bottle, weighed it in his hand, and tucked it into his robe.
Perhaps it would come in handy later.
He looked up at Little Bottle standing nearby with an expectant face; this Devil, who had been baring its fangs and claws just a moment ago, was now as well-behaved as a domesticated dog.
Somehow, the gloom in Gwof's heart born of his solitary nature was largely dispelled by this silly presence, and even the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up slightly—this was a rare good mood for him.
"Now, I am the master of a Devil."
He chuckled to himself.
A Devil... after all, he was a character who had survived an Angel's seal. In terms of hierarchy, he was at least somewhat related to 'gods'.
Calculating it this way, wouldn't he also count as a "master of a god"?
As soon as the thought emerged, Gwof suppressed it. He couldn't get too ahead of himself.
After all, in this Fairy Tale World, there were plenty of examples of controlling deities.
Just like what was written in Aladdin's Lamp, a magician from China controlled a ring genie.
That deity was much more powerful than this dim-witted bottle Devil in front of him.
"Let's go, come home with me. Don't use your Devil form."
Gwof turned and walked away.
Little Bottle quickly replied, "Hey! Coming!"
As he spoke, a green mist suddenly rose from his massive body. After the mist dissipated, a bald, burly man stood there—eight feet tall with knotted muscles and a head as smooth as a pebble. His face still held a hint of lingering ferocity, but he was much more pleasant to look at than his previous Devil form; at least there was no need to tilt one's head back to talk to him.
"Master, I'm here."
The bald man scratched his head, his voice raspy but carrying a hint of fawning.
Gwof didn't look back, just waved his hand. "Suit yourself."
One human and one "Devil" walked one after the other along the forest path.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, weaving a golden net on the ground. The bald man's long shadow followed closely behind the small figure draped in wolf skin, creating an indescribable harmony... "Delicious! So delicious!"
Little Bottle sat on a chair.
He clutched a berry pie in one hand and a grilled sausage in the other, his mouth stuffed full. Grease trickled down the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were wide with intoxication—this was the first time in the thousand years he'd been trapped that he had tasted hot food. The sweet aroma of the pie mixed with the savory fat of the sausage was more enticing than any forest fruit in his memory.
"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you."
Gwof sat opposite him with food, shook his head helplessly at his ravenous state, and handed over a plate of honey cake.
Little Bottle immediately freed a hand to take it, shouting indistinctly, "Thanks, Master!"
On the other side, Big Brother Wolf was also sitting. Having finished his food, he was engrossed in a picture book.
It was the romeo and juliet that Gwof had just finished writing. The charcoal lines on the pages were still a bit rough, but he watched with a furrowed brow, occasionally tapping his knee with his paw as if he were worried for the characters in the book.
When he reached the page where Romeo drank the poison, he even gave a low "tsk," his tail tip flicking irritably.
Psyche sat at the table, clutching a half-eaten piece of bread, her eyes darting between Little Bottle and Gwof.
She peeked at the bald man—the muscles on his arms were firmer than any woodcutter she had ever seen, and the slurping sounds he made while eating made the table tremble; he clearly looked like someone not to be trifled with.
At the same time, she couldn't help but look at Gwof, her eyes full of disbelief.
This was a Devil! A Devil that legends said would snatch Elves to eat as snacks! How did he become Gwof's servant?
He was even sitting there eating obediently, picking up even the breadcrumbs that fell on the floor and stuffing them into his mouth. He looked... almost simple-minded?
However, Groot and Gray Mouse nearby didn't have such concerns.
Gray Mouse held a bowl of berry wine and huddled by Little Bottle's feet, asking, "Hey! Can you really turn iron into silver? Won't we be rich then?"
Groot also said with a smile, "Are you the Devil? Can I carve a wood carving for you?"
Little Bottle's mouth was full of food, and he responded vaguely, "I can... I can do everything..."
Big Brother Wolf finally looked up from the book, glanced at Little Bottle, and then at Gwof with a hint of approval in his eyes:
"My younger brother is indeed the smartest wolf in this world."
Just then, Little Bottle let out a loud burp, wiped his greasy mouth, and looked at the empty plates on the table, scratching his head sheepishly. "Master, is there more food?"
Gwof pointed at Mr. Bear. "Go ask him yourself."
"Okay!"
Little Bottle stood up happily, his massive frame creating a gust of wind that sent the berry shells on the table rolling.
As he passed by Psyche, he saw out of the corner of his eye that her fingers clutching the bread were trembling.
Whether intentionally or subconsciously, he suddenly grinned, his two rows of sharp teeth glinting in the light with a hint of mischievousness.
But before Psyche could react, he ran toward the kitchen with heavy thuds, his massive back quickly disappearing behind the door, leaving only the floor vibrating.
"Ah!"
Psyche was so startled by those sharp teeth that she shrank back, and the bread in her hand fell onto the table with a thud.
She patted her chest and took a few breaths, her cheeks flushing—half from fear and half from anger.
This damned Devil! He just had to scare her!
"Damned Devil... always bullying us Elves..."
Her voice was as thin as a mosquito's buzz, carrying a bit of grievance and a cowardly reluctance to make a scene.
She stole a glance at the kitchen door, fearing the bald man would suddenly emerge.
Gwof saw all of this, and the corners of his mouth curled almost imperceptibly.
He nudged Psyche's arm with his elbow and handed her a translucent berry.
"Don't be afraid. That's all the backbone he has—he only dares to scare you."
Psyche took the berry, her fingertips still trembling, and asked in a low voice, "Is he... is he really not going to eat people?"
"At least not for now," Gwof said calmly. "If he dares to lay a finger on you, I'll send him back into the bottle for another thousand years."
Just as he finished speaking, the kitchen door creaked open.
Little Bottle came out carrying a heavy wooden tray piled with several coarse porcelain bowls: steaming berry porridge, a mountain of roasted potatoes, and a bowl of steamed pumpkin drizzled with honey.
Grains of rice were stuck to his face, and a smear of pumpkin puree was on his nose. The tray wobbled as he walked, and the soup nearly spilled, but he clearly looked very happy.
"Here! It's all hot!"
He set the tray on the table with a clatter of dishes, then helped himself to a roasted potato, blowing on it before stuffing it into his mouth, huffing from the heat.
Big Brother Wolf happened to slap that romeo and juliet onto the table, the cover bouncing with a thud. He looked up at Gwof, his brow furrowed like a twisted rope:
"This ending, do you think it should be changed?"
Gwof had just scooped a spoonful of porridge; hearing this, he raised an eyebrow and tapped his porcelain spoon lightly against the rim of the bowl. "What kind of ending do you want to see?"
"Happily ever after, of course!"
Big Brother Wolf said matter-of-factly.
"They love each other, so why do they have to die? It would be better if Romeo saw through the poison plot, took Juliet back to the forest, found a cave to live in, and raised a litter of pups..."
"Pfft—"
The porridge Little Bottle had just swallowed almost sprayed out. He picked up a potato from the floor, blew on it, and chimed in indistinctly.
"I know lots of stories about staying together! There once was a Shepherd who ran away with a Fairy. Later, they built a house in the clouds and drank nectar every day..."
"Just go back to your eating."
Gwof gave him a sharp look, and Little Bottle immediately shut his mouth sensibly, burying his head back into the potatoes.
He then turned to Big Brother Wolf, a hint of playfulness in his eyes.
"Don't you want them to feel miserable too?"
Big Brother Wolf's words came to a sudden halt.