"Explain yourself, boy. Before I decide that purging the demon standing next to you is worth starting a war with your father."
Queen Aelinor's voice was calm, but the mana in the room was boiling. The wooden floorboards groaned under the pressure of her 7th-Order aura.
Behind Damien, Leona growled low in her throat, her hand inching toward her greatsword. Isabelle was trembling, her instincts screaming that the woman in front of them was a natural predator to her kind.
Damien, however, just dusted off his shoulder where the wind pressure had ruffled his cloak.
"Explain?" Damien chuckled, though his internal monologue was screaming.
'Damn! She's even stronger than in the novel! If she attacks now, even with Dual-Core, I'm dead in three seconds. I have to talk fast.'
"Auntie Elinor," Damien said, stepping forward boldly. "I didn't bring a demon to attack you. I brought her to save you."
