"Lies!" Lorelei shrieked, her voice sharp with venom. "Ceres is fat and ugly! You don't even look like her, "
She didn't get to finish.
A powerful arm had already snatched her by the throat, lifting her clean off the floor with terrifying force.
"What did you just call my mother?! You fucking vermin?!" Tuf roared, his voice reverberating like thunder across the throne hall.
Everyone froze.
A Vaelundis knight immediately lunged to defend Lorelei, but he didn't make it far.
With a flick of his free hand, Tuf ripped the man's heart straight from his chest and shoved it into his gaping mouth.
The knight collapsed to the floor, dead in an instant, crimson pooling beneath him in silence.
Tuf turned back to Lorelei, his glowing eyes wild with rage. "If my mother is fat and ugly, then what are you? An abomination?"
No one else moved. Not a single knight dared follow the first into the jaws of death.
The air thickened with dread.
"Tuf," Ceres spoke, her voice quiet, measured. "Put her down."
But Tuf didn't move.
Instead, he tightened his grip.
Lorelei's face turned a deeper shade of red, her limbs flailing weakly, terror consuming every inch of her body.
"Now. Please," Ceres said again, firmer.
Tuf growled low, then let go like he was dropping a sack of garbage.
Lorelei crumpled to the floor, choking, coughing, her entire body trembling.
"If anyone speaks to my mother in a disrespectful tone…" Tuf snarled, pointing at the lifeless body beside him, "you'll end up like him."
"W-We just… just want to speak to my daughter…" Empress Celisse stammered, swallowing hard as her eyes darted between Ceres and the body on the floor.
Ceres sighed.
"Vaelundis has a spell, doesn't it?" she said, voice cool. "One that identifies the blood of the First Princess. You created it to prevent conflict in case multiple heirs were born. Use it on me."
Murmurs spread among the nobles.
The High Magicians of Vaelundis looked at one another in alarm before the Court Magician hesitantly stepped forward.
Tuf's gaze fixed on him instantly.
The magician instinctively took a step away from him, hands shaking.
Ceres extended her hand calmly. "If she so much as winces, you're dead, pest," Tuf warned, his shadow looming close enough to kiss the man's ear.
The magician flinched.
"Continue. I won't wince," Ceres said, eyes narrowing at Tuf.
Tuf shrugged, backing off by a step, but not without sending a sharp glare to the trembling caster.
With a silver needle, the magician pricked Ceres's fingertip. A single drop of blood welled up and dripped into an enchanted clam shell that shimmered in his hands.
Then he began to chant.
"Blood of the sea, blue and bright,
Reveal our Princess, bring her light.
By ocean's song and sacred tide,
Your shining blood shall never hide."
The chamber held its breath.
The drop of red blood floated above the clam, suspended mid-air.
Then, before everyone's eyes, it shimmered, and turned deep blue.
Gasps filled the hall.
She was the First Princess of Vaelundis.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"How… how is that possible?" Emperor Syron whispered, pale and stunned.
For years, the legend of the First Princess had shaped Vaelundis politics.
His older brother, the rightful heir before Syron's own betrayal, had been betrothed to her. She was said to be the key to the sacred Bounty Festival, the miracle that had blessed the oceans of Vaelundis with unimaginable riches and prosperity. The Messenger of Solmara answered only to her blood.
But when Syron usurped the throne, the betrothal was dismissed. He believed the First Princess to be ugly, weak, and powerless, unworthy of ruling. Instead, he took the Second Princess as his concubine, a woman blessed with massive mana reserves.
And now, that same First Princess, whom they dismissed, whom they mocked, was standing before them. Ethereal. Radiant. Commanding dangerous monster-like-beings with nothing but her words.
"If you are the First Princess," Zarithan asked, unable to help himself, "then why do they call you mother?"
"Because they are my children," Ceres replied without missing a beat, her voice as calm and commanding as the sea before a storm.
It was impossible, they all knew that. Chronologically, physically, she couldn't be. And yet…
Her resemblance to Luna was undeniable.
"Mama!"
A tiny voice echoed through the throne room. Everyone turned.
A child, barely six years old, burst in, running with the unfiltered joy only the innocent could carry. She flung herself into Ceres's arms, who instinctively caught her in a fluid motion.
The crowd gasped.
The child looked exactly like her.
"Did you see what I did to Tofu?" Pixie beamed, cheeks flushed with pride.
"Yes, baby. And you did great," Ceres said with a soft smile, planting a kiss on the little girl's cheek.
"I made him bark!" Pixie giggled mischievously.
"You think that was funny?" Tofu muttered, scowling. "Say goodbye to your teacup seat."
"I'll make you bark again!" Pixie shot back, crossing her arms and sticking out her tongue with flair.
Just then, the rest of the chaos arrived.
Nugget, Peanut, Neko, Milo, and Vivi strolled in, every one of them smug and clearly enjoying Tuf's humiliation. Their laughter was barely held back.
In a sudden burst of radiant magic, Seiryu appeared in the middle of the hall, surrounded by wounded bodies, at least two hundred of them. Some were groaning, others were bloodied, and several had limbs either missing or mangled.
Tuf looked around, genuinely confused. "How the hell are there this many wounded? We didn't even touch them. So pathetic."
"You didn't hold back, asshat," Neko said, shaking his head.
"I did hold back. If I didn't, that damn lizard wouldn't even find a body," Tuf answered, flicking a glance toward Seiryu, who raised an unimpressed brow.
"Delphine," Ceres called calmly.
"Yes, Your Highness." Delphine stepped forward. "Restore."
A radiant golden glow enveloped Delphine's body, and a light wave of healing magic spread out, illuminating the room like dawn breaking after a long, brutal night.
Gasps rang out as bones reset, blood vanished, flesh regenerated, and limbs regrew.
Every last injured soldier stood whole once more.
Silence followed.
Especially from the Holy Church priests and knights of the other five kingdoms.
Because they knew that power. They recognized it.
A Saintess.
Not just any Saintess, but one real and powerful enough to restore lost limbs.
"Baby," Ceres murmured, turning her attention back to Pixie, "Mama needs to talk to our guests. Go with Delphine for now, okay?"
"Okay!" Pixie chirped. She immediately reached for Delphine, who picked her up with ease.
"Did you see what I did to Tofu, Delphine?" she asked proudly, wrapping her arms around her neck.
"Yes, Regent," Delphine smiled indulgently. "That was very cool of you."
And just like that, she left the throne room with the four Saintess Knights trailing behind her.
But the foreign priests and holy knights could barely believe their eyes.
That woman, that Saintess, had just been ordered to babysit a child?
It was inconceivable.
A Saintess, even one born of common blood, was revered across kingdoms. She outranked nobles, and in some cases, even royalty. And this one had just displayed power capable of divine-level miracles.
Some of the foreign dignitaries looked ready to object, to demand answers.
But the moment Tuf raised a single brow in their direction, their courage evaporated like mist in fire. They swallowed their complaints and said nothing.
"Anyway…" Ceres's voice turned light, almost amused. She began walking toward her throne. "Let's get to the real reason you all came to Aquilonis armed for war."
She sat gracefully upon her throne, and with a gentle flick of his fingers, Comet conjured a luxurious seat beside her, one clearly meant for Luna.
Her children arranged themselves with casual familiarity.
The rest, Nugget standing behind Ceres like a loyal sentinel; Tuf lounging near Luna, still radiating threat; the others lounging along the steps of the dais, bored but alert.
Below the dais, Seiryu stood at the edge with Aurelian and Legion.
It was undeniable.
Anyone with eyes could see who truly held the power in this hall.
"You seem to misunderstand, Empress," Emperor Syron was the first to speak, his voice low and tightly controlled. "We did not come here to wage war."
He met her gaze with false civility.
"We came for diplomacy, even after the daughter of the Demon Lord murdered my unborn child… inside my concubine's womb. A child that was also your blood."
The court tensed.
But Ceres didn't blink.
Her lips merely curved at the edge.
And something cold passed through the air.
A stillness more terrifying than any scream.
Because the moment Syron invoked bloodlines, was the moment he forgot.
He wasn't speaking to some shamed, discarded princess anymore.
He was speaking to the mother of monsters.
And monsters do not forgive.
"Can you name which daughter you're referring to, Emperor Syron?" Ceres asked with a sweet, disarming smile. "There are four present here."
"Luna," Emperor Syron replied, his voice cold.
"Kitten?" Ceres turned her gaze to Luna.
"I did no such thing, Your Highness," Luna said firmly, eyes locked on Syron without a trace of fear. Her tone was challenging, defiant.
"I have witnesses," Syron countered. "Surely Duke Aurelian would not lie."
All eyes turned to Aurelian, whose jaw tightened. His silence spoke volumes.
"All I did was touch the concubine's womb," Luna said coolly. "Yes, I placed a curse, but it would not have activated unless she died first."
She took a breath and raised her hand. "So let the heavens bear witness. I invoke an Auth to the Celestial Solmara. I swear that I did not kill the unborn child of Emperor Syron Pyrrath of Pyrrathis, who was in the womb of his first concubine, Celine Valeria, Princess of Vaelundis. And if my words are false, may the heavens strike me dead."
The entire hall fell silent. Not even the wind dared move.
The invocation of an Auth to Solmara was sacred. A binding oath of truth. Even a single misstep, a white lie, would trigger divine retribution. It was a gamble only taken by those absolutely certain of their truth.
And yet Luna did it, effortlessly.
The Pyrrathis delegates were certain divine punishment would fall. After all, they had seen what happened just yesterday.
They waited.
Ceres raised a brow and glanced at Seiryu.
"How long does it take?" she asked calmly.
"Immediately, Your Highness," Seiryu replied. "Even a hint of a lie, and the heavens will not delay. They strike without mercy."
Ceres gave a single nod. Her gaze returned to Syron.
"So it's either Luna is telling the truth…" She let the thought hang in the air.
"Or the child wasn't his to begin with," Tuf said smoothly, lips curled in a smug smirk.
"Tofu!" Ceres snapped, eyes narrowing at him.
"Oh... Was I not supposed to say that out loud? Sorry," Tuf said, not looking remotely apologetic.
Whispers rippled across the hall. The notion that Emperor Syron might have been cheated on by his concubine, especially when his claim to the throne was already contested, was scandalous.
"How dare you imply such a thing?!" Empress Celisse rose, her voice high with outrage. "My Celine is a virtuous and honorable woman!"
"Honorable," Ceres echoed, her voice laced with venom. She let the word roll on her tongue like something bitter. "Do you call a sister honorable if she orders her knights to abuse her older sibling? If she allows them to defile that sister night after night, just for their amusement? Is it honorable to poison your own blood so she will never bear a child, just so you can give birth to the next First Princess instead?"
Her voice remained calm, but her eyes gleamed like frost.
"Is betrayal honorable, Mother? When it comes from someone you loved, trusted?"
Silence. A suffocating, choking silence.
"If that's what you call honor, then I wonder… what does dishonor even look like?" Ceres smiled then, sharp, dark, and devastating.
"And how can you be so sure that it was the Emperor's child in her womb, Mother?" she added, voice softer now, crueler in its mockery. "In Vaelundis, it does not matter who fathered the child. If she is born the First Princess, even a commoner could be the sire. Right?"
Ceres tilted her head slightly. "After all… weren't you born of such a circumstance?"
Gasps echoed around the chamber.
Empress Celisse paled. Only she and her mother knew the truth of her lineage, and even she had learned it by accident.
"So unless you can prove, right here and now, that Luna murdered the child in Celine's womb, by invoking the same Auth to Solmara, let's not waste another breath on lies."
Ceres leaned back on her throne, her wicked smile returning, satisfied and unapologetic.
"Shall we move on to the next issue?"