"Hehem! It's only natural for Lord Atem!"
Shion was strutting with her usual nonsensical boasting, radiating pride as if the entire Great Forest had been claimed solely thanks to her. I decided it was safer to ignore her antics.
To summarize: any race seeking protection would now need to present themselves before me. From here on, we would investigate the entire Great Forest of Jura, identify every sentient race, and determine their place under Eterna's rule.
The work never ceased. With the prospect of a new highway toward the Mystical Dynasty of Sarion, construction would accelerate. Rigurd, as usual, would bear the responsibility of arranging Eterna's reception halls and keeping the people prepared for visits from outsiders.
Yes, I had expected complications with becoming a Demon Lord—and sure enough, they had arrived.
The meeting was winding down when I remembered something.
"Oh, yes. Has there been a reply from Hinata?"
Benimaru shook his head. "None yet. The envoy delivered our message safely, but no answer has returned."
Diablo chuckled darkly, one hand on his chest. "Kufufufu… my master, rest assured. I saw to it myself. The envoy reached their destination without incident. But as Benimaru says, no reply."
So, Hinata was still deciding. That woman was dangerous—sharp, unrelenting. I did not desire conflict, but if she chose the path of blades… then so be it. Against her, I would need to remain vigilant. Solarys had already calculated that "Disintegration" would be useless against me, yet I would not allow arrogance to blind me.
Truth be told, it was unlikely, but if she could apologize—if she could acknowledge the truth—then perhaps this entire matter could be dissolved.
I leaned back, exhaling. "Very well. Until we hear from them, let us turn our focus back to Eterna's growth."
The council bowed in unison. The meeting ended.
◉
Elsewhere, far from Eterna, within a kingdom drowned in eternal night…
A silver-haired girl walked silently toward a hidden mausoleum. Her name was Luminus Valentine—Demon Lord, Queen of Nightmares, sovereign of the endless night.
The air was cold, thick with magic. Inside lay her most sacred treasure: a coffin of holy spiritual ice, sealing away the girl she cherished most.
But when she stepped through the barrier, her sharp senses froze her in place.
Something was wrong.
The air was disturbed, faintly tainted by a foreign scent. And more—her eyes widened.
The coffin was gone.
For a moment, disbelief. Even a Demon Lord struggled to accept such a reality. But the truth pressed itself into her thoughts: the ice coffin, the one she had protected with her own power, had been stolen.
Her chest burned with grief—then fury.
The entire mausoleum shattered as Luminus released her magic in a cataclysmic storm. Death itself seeped into the night, a maelstrom of chaotic power none dared approach.
Yet beneath her rage, her mind calculated coldly.
Her barrier could not be broken by mortals. No human, no beast, no trickster could undo it. Only one of equal class—another Demon Lord—could have stepped inside.
That meant the thief knew of the coffin's existence. They knew who slept within it. And they had waited. Walpurgis had drawn her away. They struck when she was absent. That was no coincidence.
Her crimson eyes narrowed as she whispered into the shattered silence.
"…One of them."
Eight other Demon Lords. Two former ones. All possible. She sorted through their personalities, their ambitions. None seemed the type to risk this. None matched. And yet… someone had dared.
Her grief hardened into vengeance.
The Queen of Nightmares would not rest. Whoever had stolen from her had made a fatal mistake.
"Wait…" Luminus whispered, her eyes narrowing. "I forgot someone."
Her mind went back to the one already dead.
Clayman.
A pitiful excuse for a demon lord, so insignificant he was slipping from her memory entirely. But before his end, he had muttered something… something about the revival of the "Curse Lord," Kazaleem.
Not one of the current demon lords, but a being whose power rivaled them. A being capable of weaving plots behind the shadows.
Her crimson eyes gleamed. "If that's true… then it makes sense."
Kazaleem, hiding in the dark, could have easily known about Walpurgis through Clayman. He had no need to reveal himself—just pull the strings.
"He pushed Clayman into holding Walpurgis as a distraction… so that he could steal the coffin while I was away?"
Her voice trembled, low and dangerous. The logic fit too perfectly.
The purpose of Walpurgis itself hadn't mattered. If Kazaleem could manipulate Clayman into challenging a new demon lord while distracting the others, then it was all an elaborate misdirection. His true goal was singular—the coffin, her beloved.
The humiliation of it burned her deeper than any wound.
"That wretch…" Luminus' voice cracked with fury. "To think he outwitted me… me, a Demon Lord!"
Her fists clenched, claws digging into her palms as magic surged uncontrollably.
She could still hear Clayman's arrogant laughter, his pitiful begging, his delusions of grandeur. And yet, through that worm, Kazaleem had stolen what mattered most.
"Unforgivable," she growled, her teeth bared. "Absolutely unforgivable. I will drag him out of whatever hole he hides in. I will rip his soul apart and drown him in eternal torment!"
Her roar echoed through the underground ruins. Magic overflowed, tearing apart what was left of the mausoleum. The ground shook, walls collapsed, and an endless storm of blood-red energy surged outward.
The very air trembled beneath her wrath, fiercer even than the time Veldora had reduced her kingdom to ash. The rage now eating at her chest was personal. Intimate. It wasn't her pride as a ruler that was wounded—this was the violation of her very heart.
Her desire—to reclaim her beloved, to punish the thief—spiraled, feeding into her core.
And then it happened.
"Verified. Conditions have been satisfied. Unique Skill『Lust』has evolved into Ultimate Skill『Asmodeus, Lord of Lust』."
The Voice of the World resounded, divine and absolute.
Luminus froze for a heartbeat. Then her lips curled into a snarl.
"That doesn't matter!" she screamed, her voice shaking the night. "Such a thing… doesn't matter!!!"
Her magic, no longer bound by limits, erupted like a flood. The evolved power—one that ruled over life and death itself—unfurled within her. Every grave, every corpse, every ounce of stagnant death energy in her nation stirred under her command.
But Luminus ignored it. She didn't care about new strength. She didn't care about ascension.
What she cared about was *her*. The one stolen from her coffin of ice. The one that Kazaleem dared touch.
Her fury was endless.
And so, in the endless country of night, the anguished screams of the silver-haired Demon Lord carried on without end—an omen of the storm that was about to sweep across the world.