Four days.
Four days had passed since she had shut herself away in the imperial library. Four days during which she had neither slept, nor eaten, nor even felt the need to stop for a single moment. Her body demanded nothing, and her mind remained perfectly clear, as if time itself had lost all hold over her.
She had read without interruption.
The books had followed one another at an unreal pace, each page absorbed, understood, and memorized with absolute precision. Knowledge did not pile up chaotically; it organized itself naturally, forming a coherent structure within her mind. Events, dates, causes, and consequences interlocked with an almost cold logic.
She had studied the history of the Demon Empire, from its founding to the present era. The successive reigns of the Demon Kings, the periods of expansion, the wars that were lost, the forced compromises, but also the internal struggles and strategic errors that had weakened the Empire over the centuries. She now understood why certain territories prospered while others slowly withered away.
She had also learned that this world could not be reduced to a simplistic opposition between humans and demons.
The continent was home to several major races. The elves, settled in ancient forests, lived according to rules of their own and deliberately kept their distance from direct conflicts. The dwarves, masters of the mountains, had built their power on craftsmanship, forging, and nearly impregnable fortresses. Beyond the seas lay another continent, dominated by kingdoms of beastmen, organized into clans and tribal federations, whose internal politics were as complex as they were brutal.
Among all these races, only the human nations maintained a deep and systematic hostility toward demons. The other peoples, less dependent on human gods, adopted a more nuanced stance. They were cautious, sometimes wary, but rarely driven by blind hatred.
She closed the last book she held in her hands and returned it to its exact place. Around her, the library remained silent, saturated with centuries of accumulated knowledge. She now possessed a clear vision of this world's political, historical, economic, technological, and geographical foundations.
But it was not enough.
Books could convey facts, numbers, and accounts, but they could not reflect the daily reality of an empire. The state of a capital always revealed the truth of a regime far more reliably than any official chronicle. Observing its streets, its inhabitants, and their behavior spoke volumes about the true stability of power.
It was time to see it for herself.
— "Ophar."
Barely had his name been spoken when space warped before her. A sharp distortion appeared, and the demonic archduke materialized at once, kneeling with almost mechanical precision. His arm folded against his chest, and his head bowed deeply.
— "What may I do for you, Your Majesty?"
She observed the scene with detached calm.
During those four days, she had also confirmed one thing: Ophar was a servant of impeccable efficiency. Always present at the exact moment she called him, always perfectly dressed, always ready to carry out the slightest order without asking unnecessary questions. He embodied perfectly what the Empire expected of him.
— "I wish to leave the palace for a few days and visit the capital," she said in an even voice. "I want to observe the situation of my citizens without drawing attention."
Ophar remained motionless, but she knew he was already considering every detail.
— "Prepare a simple outfit for me, something inconspicuous," she continued. "Provide me with money, and an escort dressed in civilian clothes. Discreet."
She paused briefly before adding:
— "Bring me back to the throne room as well. I want to retrieve my katana."
— "If you permit me."
At those words, the air seemed to split before her. A stable opening appeared, leading directly to the throne room.
She stepped through without hesitation.
The change in atmosphere was immediate. The studious austerity of the library gave way to the crushing grandeur of the palace. Dark pillars rose toward the ceiling, frozen suits of armor seemed to watch every movement, and the throne dominated the hall like an immutable certainty.
She approached it, took Tenkōsetsu naturally, then sat upon the imperial seat. The motion was fluid, devoid of the slightest hesitation. She crossed her legs, laid the katana across her thighs, and tilted her head slightly, resting her cheek against her hand.
A discreet smile appeared on her lips.
— "To think it belonged to me from the very beginning…"
A soft laugh escaped her, without mockery or arrogance, simply tinged with irony.
After a few minutes of silent reflection, the space before the throne distorted. A sharp spatial rift opened at the center of the hall, and Ophar emerged from it at a measured pace, followed by a young girl.
At first glance, she was unremarkable.
She had the appearance of a child of about twelve, with a frail silhouette and delicate features. Her blonde hair framed a smooth face, almost too perfect, and her light blue eyes reflected a tranquil innocence. A gentle smile rested on her lips as she walked calmly across the throne room, without fear or hesitation.
But the Empress saw something else.
In her shadow, something moved.
It was not a simple distortion of light, nor a trick of perspective. The shadow stretched across the floor in a way that did not match her body, thickening, slowly twisting, as if animated by a will of its own. Within it, a formless mass undulated—vast and oppressive—composed of dark, glistening flesh, threaded with slow, deep pulsations.
Countless tentacles spread within it, some thick as tree trunks, others thin and wiry, coiling and uncoiling with obscene suppleness. Along these appendages, eyes opened. Dozens. Hundreds, perhaps. Of varying sizes, embedded in the flesh like living growths, all turned toward the outside world—observing, analyzing, waiting.
This was not a creature meant to be seen.
It was something born in the depths, whose mere existence evoked crushing pressure, suffocation, and total annihilation. A true abomination, silent, contained only by the frail form it projected on the surface.
So… this is her true nature.
The Empress's gaze remained calm.
Upon reaching the foot of the throne, the young girl knelt smoothly, head lowered and hands placed before her. She did not tremble. She showed no nervousness. It was obvious she had been informed of the Empress's existence prior to this moment.
Ophar knelt in turn and spoke.
— "This is Lily. The youngest representative of the Sea Demon clan. She has been trained since birth. She will be worthy of escorting you, Your Majesty."
One of the seven great demonic clans…
Interesting.
The Empress rose slowly, katana in hand, and descended the steps of the throne. Her stride was measured, assured, free of any hesitation. She stopped before the young girl, then extended her hand and gently grasped her cheek, lifting her face.
Their gazes met.
In those light blue eyes, she did not see a child. She saw the immensity of the abyss. Lightless depths, a crushing world where pressure ground all things to dust, where silence was broken only by the slow beating of ancient entities. That gaze concealed something far older and far more dangerous than her appearance suggested.
Truly interesting.
Without looking away, the Empress then extended her arm toward the shadow cast upon the floor. Her hand sank into it as if into a liquid surface, passing through the gloom to seize one of the hidden tentacles. She pulled slowly.
Dark flesh burst forth from the shadow, massive and throbbing, covered in eyes that opened at once, fixing on her with absolute attention. The air around them seemed to grow heavy, saturated with invisible pressure.
The young girl did not move. Her expression did not change. She offered no resistance.
After a few seconds, the Empress released the tentacle. It slipped silently back into the shadow, as if it had never existed.
— "From today onward," she declared calmly, "she will be my personal guard."
Ophar bowed his head even deeper.
— "It will be done according to your wishes, Your Majesty."
Ophar returned shortly afterward, holding several carefully prepared items in his hands. He first offered her a simple cloak, devoid of any distinctive color, crafted from a thick yet supple fabric, capable of effectively concealing the outfit shaped by her mana. Beneath this cloak, her presence suddenly became far less overwhelming, almost ordinary.
He then handed her a silver ring, modest in design, adorned with a single blue gemstone set at its center. The stone emitted a discreet but constant glow, an obvious sign of its nature.
— "This is a mana stone," Ophar explained. "It comes from the core of high-ranking monsters. A spell has been inscribed within it: a spatial storage enchantment. Inside are sufficient funds for your travels."
She observed the ring for a few seconds before slipping it on without comment. The katana was then concealed beneath the cloak, perfectly invisible to the naked eye. At her side, Lily stood motionless and silent, her expression still just as innocent.
Once everything was prepared, they left the palace.
Along the way, they passed several demons she had already seen collapse upon her arrival. This time, none of them lost consciousness. They simply stopped, bowing their upper bodies respectfully, carefully avoiding meeting her gaze. She noted the change without dwelling on it further.
Outside, the palace rose at the center of the capital, dominating the city from its elevated position. From there, she could finally observe the Empire with her own eyes.
Her gaze first lifted toward the sky.
A deep blue stretched endlessly, clear and almost unreal. Three suns reigned within it: two of brilliant yellow, and a third with a greenish hue. The whole formed a spectacle both majestic and disorienting, a celestial landscape no book could ever faithfully convey.
Then her attention lowered to the city.
Despite the harsh climate, the capital was lively. Located at the extreme north of the great continent, the Demon Empire endured a winter that lasted nearly eight months each year. And that, despite the presence of three suns.
Such a long winter with three suns… This world is truly full of irony, she thought with silent amusement.
The city spread out in concentric circles around the palace. Paved roads all converged toward the center, lined with buildings of dark stone and reinforced wood. Market squares were already bustling despite the cold, filled with merchants, artisans, and citizens of varied demonic appearances. All of it was encircled by immense walls, thick and ancient, witnesses to the countless sieges they had repelled over the centuries.
She let out a slow breath.
— "What a magnificent view…"
She then turned toward Lily, who still stood at her side, discreet, almost unobtrusive.
— "This mission requires that I hide my identity," she said calmly. "In public, you will call me mother. Not Majesty."
Lily lifted her eyes slightly toward her and nodded without the slightest hesitation.
— "Understood, mother."
A genuine smile appeared on the Empress's lips. She placed her hand on the young girl's head and gently rubbed her blonde hair.
— "That will do nicely."
Her gaze then returned to the city stretching out before them. She took Lily's hand, holding it with surprising gentleness. At that moment, her smile changed. It lost the unhealthy, distant nuance that so often accompanied it, giving way to something more natural, almost childlike.
— "Then let's go," she said with quiet enthusiasm. "Let's enjoy everything this capital has to offer, before my duties swallow me once more."
She took her first step forward, pulling Lily along with her.