She'll be forced to act," Lira said confidently. "Her entire identity is built around being a noble, honorable adventurer. Learning that she's been working alongside a serial rapist and murderer will shatter her. She'll either expose him publicly or dissolve the guild entirely. Either way, it serves our purposes."
"And the timing?" Raya asked. "All these elements need to converge simultaneously. If one falls too early, it could alert the others."
Clair spoke up. "My lord, we've coordinated carefully. Sofia will finish gathering evidence within a few weeks. The financial audit is scheduled for a few weeks as well. Alfred's 'investigation' will conclude with damning evidence before those times. The anonymous letters will be distributed the day before the audit results are announced."
"Within a month," Claire added, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, "the Viscount will be accused of corruption and infidelity, Zach will be exposed as a criminal, the guild will implode, and the entire family will be under investigation by royal authorities. They'll be drowning in crises from every direction simultaneously."
Raya leaned forward slightly, his clawed fingers drumming once on the armrest of his throne. "And they'll have no time to coordinate a defense because they'll be too busy fighting each other and dealing with their individual disasters."
"Exactly, my lord," Lucifer said, and there was genuine admiration in his voice. "By the time they realize they're under coordinated attack, it will be far too late. The family will be destroyed, the city will descend into chaos, and the humans will blame their own political corruption and moral failings. They'll never suspect demonic involvement until we're ready to reveal ourselves."
"It's like conducting an orchestra," Solnivar mused, their dual voice creating an eerie harmony. "Each instrument plays its part, and together they create a symphony of destruction."
Raya studied the scrying orbs, watching his plans unfold across multiple locations simultaneously. Sofia planning how to find and copy the documents in her brother's study.
The middle aged man named Marcus nervously doctoring financial records.
Veronica weeping alone in her chambers.
"Two month or less," Raya said quietly. "This city's ruling family will be nothing but a memory. And when they fall, the city falls with them."
He raised his gaze to address all the Arch-Demons. "You have your assignments. Execute them flawlessly. I want no mistakes"
"Your will is our command, my lord," the ten Arch-Demons replied in perfect unison.
As they began to disperse, teleporting back to their respective floors or to the human city to continue their assigned tasks, Lucifer lingered for a moment.
"My lord," he said quietly, "if I may speak freely?"
Raya nodded, giving permission.
"The previous Demon Lords, all eleven of them were beings of immense power who led through overwhelming force. They crushed their enemies with raw strength, burned cities with demonic armies, and ruled through fear."
Lucifer's dark wings rustled softly. "But you... you're different. You destroy your enemies by making them destroy themselves. You turn their own strengths into weaknesses, their own institutions into weapons against them."
He bowed deeply. "It's a level of strategic thinking I've never witnessed before. The other Arch-Demons and I consider it an honor to serve a Demon Lord who doesn't just possess power, but wields intelligence as a weapon."
Raya was genuinely touched by the words, even as his system suppressed the emotional response. "Thank you, Lucifer. Your loyalty and understanding mean a great deal."
"We will not fail you, my lord." With that, Lucifer spread his wings and vanished in a swirl of shadows.
Alone in the throne room or as alone as a Demon Lord could be in a tower filled with thousands of demons, Raya stared at the scrying orbs.
One in particular held his attention: an image of the city of Raul, bustling with life, unaware of the doom approaching from within its own walls.
'Elena,' he thought, allowing himself a moment of human memory. 'I'm doing this for you. For what they took from us.'
But even as he thought it, he knew the truth was more complicated. Revenge was part of it, yes. But there was something else now, a cold satisfaction in watching arrogant humans fall.
…
Marcus had always considered himself a competent man.
He'd served the Viscount's household for twelve years, managing finances with precision and efficiency. His ledgers were always balanced, his reports always accurate, and his loyalty, well until recently had been absolute.
Now, sitting alone in his private study at nearly midnight, surrounded by doctored financial records and forged documents, Marcus wondered how everything had gone so wrong so quickly.
The answer, of course, was currently pouring him wine in a dress that left very little to imagination.
"You look tense," Lira said, her voice smooth as silk as she moved behind his chair. Her hands settled on his shoulders, beginning to massage the knots of stress that had taken permanent residence there. "You've been working so hard lately. You deserve to relax."
Marcus closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into her touch. Gods, when was the last time anyone had cared about his wellbeing? His wife had died seven years ago. His children had moved to distant cities, pursuing their own lives. He'd been alone for so long, buried in numbers and duty, that he'd forgotten what it felt like to be wanted.
Then Lira had walked into his life three weeks ago, and everything had changed.
"The audit is in few weeks s," he murmured, exhaustion evident in his voice. "I've done everything you asked, but I'm terrified, Lira. If they discover what I've done…"
"They won't discover you," Lira interrupted gently, her fingers working magic on his tense muscles. "Remember what we discussed? The evidence points to the Viscount himself. You're simply following orders, executing his secret instructions. The documents prove it."
Marcus opened his eyes, glancing at the stack of papers on his desk. Letters in the Viscount's handwriting or perfect forgeries of it, though he tried not to think about that, instructing him to redirect funds, create false expense reports, and move money into untraceable accounts.
"But if he denies it…"
"Then it becomes his word against documented evidence," Lira said, moving around to face him. She perched on the edge of his desk, close enough that her perfume filled his senses. "You have letters, meeting logs, financial records. What does he have? Denials. And who do you think the royal investigators will believe, paperwork or the protests of a man caught stealing?"
She reached out, cupping his face with surprising tenderness. "Marcus, you've been loyal to that family for over a decade. You've made them richer, protected their interests, and what have they given you in return? A modest salary and barely any recognition. Meanwhile, the Viscount lives in luxury while you work yourself to exhaustion."
"It's not about the money," Marcus protested weakly, though even he could hear the lack of conviction in his voice.
"No," Lira agreed, her dark eyes holding his. "It's about dignity, respect, being appreciated for your skills instead of taken for granted. And when this is over, when we've taken what we need and disappeared to start our new life together..." She smiled, and Marcus felt his heart race. "You'll finally be free."
The promise of that freedom of escaping his lonely existence, of starting fresh with someone who actually cared about him, had driven every decision for the past three weeks.
Lira had painted such a beautiful picture: a small villa in the Southern territories, far from Raul's politics and the Viscount's reach. A quiet life together, comfortable and peaceful.
All he had to do was follow her instructions and redirect enough funds to finance their escape.
It had started small, a few hundred gold coins here and there, amounts that could be attributed to accounting errors or legitimate expenses. But Lira's demands had grown, and now Marcus had embezzled nearly twenty thousand gold, a staggering sum that would absolutely be noticed during the audit.
"The Viscount will be ruined," Marcus said quietly, guilt gnawing at him despite everything. "His family, his reputation…"
"He'll survive," Lira assured him, though her tone suggested she didn't particularly care either way. "Men like him always do. They'll strip him of his title, maybe impose some fines, but his brother is the King. He won't face serious consequences. You, however..." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "You could be executed if they think you acted alone. That's why the evidence must clearly show you were following orders."
Marcus swallowed hard, she was right, of course. If the investigators believed he'd stolen from a noble family on his own initiative, his head would be on a pike within a week. But if he could prove or appear to prove, that he'd been following the Viscount's secret instructions...
Well, at worst, he'd be seen as a foolish man who trusted his employer too much. Naive, perhaps, but not malicious. The Viscount would take the blame, and Marcus could slip away in the confusion.
"Show me the latest documents," Lira said, sliding off the desk to examine his work.
Her eyes, so dark they were almost black, scanned the ledgers with surprising understanding. For a merchant's daughter, she had an remarkably sophisticated grasp of financial manipulation.
Marcus had wondered about that, briefly, during a moment of clarity. How did a young woman from a trading family understand noble accounting practices so thoroughly? How did she know exactly which documents to forge and how to make them appear authentic?
But then she'd smiled at him, or touched his hand, or whispered promises of their future together, and the questions had dissolved like morning mist.
"This is good," Lira said, tapping one of the forged letters. "But add another line here, something about 'discretion being paramount' and 'no written records beyond these instructions.' It makes it seem like the Viscount was trying to maintain plausible deniability."
Marcus took notes, marveling at her strategic mind. "You're brilliant, you know that?"
"I just want to protect you," Lira replied, and the sincerity in her voice made his chest ache. "You're a good man, Marcus. You deserve so much better than what this city has given you."
She moved behind him again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders in an embrace that felt like salvation. "Five more days. That's all, the audit will happen, the evidence will be discovered, and in the chaos that follows, we'll disappear. I have everything arranged such as transportation, new identities, a place to stay until things settle down."
"And we'll really be together?" Marcus asked, hating how desperate he sounded. "This isn't just... you're not just using me?"
Lira turned his chair around, forcing him to face her. Her expression was earnest, almost hurt. "Marcus, look at me. Do you really think I'm the kind of woman who would manipulate someone's feelings for personal gain?"
Marcus looked into her eyes and saw only affection and sincerity. "No. No, of course not. I'm sorry, I'm just nervous."
"That's understandable. You're doing something incredibly brave." She kissed his forehead gently. "But soon, all of this will be behind us. Just five more days of acting normal, finishing these documents, and maintaining your routine. Can you do that?"
"Yes," Marcus said, his resolve strengthening. "Yes, I can do that."
"Good." Lira straightened, smoothing her dress. "Now, I should go before someone notices I'm here. It's late, and we can't risk anyone connecting us before the plan is complete."
Marcus stood, catching her hand. "When will I see you again?"
"Tomorrow night, same as always. I'll come to your private entrance after midnight." She squeezed his hand. "Stay strong, my love. Our new life is so close now." She answered, with a clear disgust look on her face, yet Marcus didn't seem to notice.
After she left through the window, she always insisted on unconventional exits to avoid being seen.
Marcus returned to his desk, the forged documents seemed to stare at him accusingly, but he pushed the guilt aside.
Lira was right, he'd given the Viscount twelve years of loyal service and received little in return.
If the man had been secretly embezzling funds and the evidence certainly suggested he had then Marcus was simply following orders. He was a victim here, not a perpetrator.
And in five days, none of it would matter anyway. He'd be far from Raul, starting fresh with a woman who actually appreciated him.
Marcus picked up his pen and began adding the additional details Lira had suggested.
He never noticed the faint shimmer of magic that surrounded the forged documents, ensuring they would pass even the most rigorous authentication spells.