The massive obsidian gates swung open with a hollow thud, and Lilith and Lysandra stood in the passage, ready to confront the intruder. Graaz was kneeling before the entrance, his mouth agape as he stared at the castle's soaring towers in disbelief. As soon as he caught sight of his mistresses, he immediately slammed his forehead against the ground.
"Great Lady! Miracle worker! Goddess who raised mountains of darkness from nothingness!" he wailed, sparing no flattery. "The seeds that fell from heaven... it was a sign! A true blessing!"
Lysandra, whose face was still burning from unreleased tension, clenched her hands into fists. Her eyes flashed like lightning.
This green old man interrupted us... just to recite those stupid prayers of his again? she thought, taking a step forward.
"Do you have something sensible to say, or did you come here just to waste our time with your squeaking?" she snarled so coldly that Graaz instinctively clutched his still-sore nose, cowering into himself.
"Y-yes! Yes, Most Powerful One!" he choked out quickly. "My messengers have returned! New goblins have arrived in the valley! They wish to swear an oath of fealty to Your Majesty!"
Lilith raised her eyebrows, and her irritation immediately gave way to pure, business-like curiosity. "So soon?" she murmured, smiling to herself. "Exactly how many did you bring?"
"According to my boys' reports, there are over two hundred of them, Great Lady!" Graaz reported proudly.
Lilith's eyes lit up. Another two hundred pairs of hands to work her magical fields? This meant the production of herbs and potatoes would rocket into the stratosphere. "Lead the way at once," she commanded excitedly, moving ahead.
Lysandra looked at Lilith's retreating back and let out a long, pathetic sigh. Her wings unfurled as she frustratedly returned to her full, demonic form. "Well, so much for the fun..." she whispered to herself, following after her Monarch with the expression of a condemned prisoner.
***
When they reached the edge of the valley, Lilith froze. Before her stood a gargantuan herd of goblins - dirty, emaciated, and wild. However, as soon as their eyes fell upon Lilith, the entire group suddenly stiffened. Drool began to ooze from the open muzzles of the new arrivals, and their eyes grew wide and glazed with the desire triggered by her natural charisma.
Lilith flinched, feeling a rising revulsion. "The same thing again..." she hissed, frustrated. Graaz, seeing his kinsmen's reaction, hung his head in stinging embarrassment, though deep down he knew that the sight of Lilith would knock even a stone to its knees.
Lilith had no intention of putting up with it. Without delay, she activated her [Origin Aura]. A dark, crushing energy rippled across the field. In a single second, all the goblins "woke up" from their trance, and their legs began to shake so hard their teeth chattered.
Two other exceptionally old and wrinkled representatives of the race ran out from the crowd. They fell to their knees next to Graaz, trembling before the power radiating from her. "We... we heard of the merciful Lady of the Forest!" one of them wailed. "We want to serve! We want to be Your slaves!"
At that same moment, a notification appeared before Lilith's eyes:
[Notice: 212 goblins have arrived to join You. Do You accept their fealty?]
Lilith clicked [YES] without hesitation.
She looked down at the two old men, her voice sharp as a razor. "Since you desire so much to surrender your wretched lives, so be it. But I warn you: one false move, one lewd glance in my direction, and your bodies will serve as fertilizer for those potatoes."
She pointed a finger at Graaz. "He's in charge here. Direct all questions and problems to him. He knows what to do with refuse like you."
She turned on her heel, not waiting for their thankful howls. Her mood, previously so good because of the castle, had been effectively ruined by those drooling faces at the welcoming. Lysandra, still silent with an emotionless face, followed close behind.
***
Lilith walked in silence, and the echoes of the goblins' grateful screams slowly faded behind her. She felt a strange, suffocating irritation swelling in her chest that she couldn't immediately name. She stopped abruptly, clenching her hands into fists.
Before, in that other world, looks full of desire or intimidation would have caused her, at most, confusion or a slight satisfaction with her own attractiveness. But now? Now she felt physically nauseous.
Revulsion... she thought, and her inner voice sounded colder than ever.
Why do I feel such revulsion toward them? It's just the instinct of those wretched creatures...
The answer came suddenly, hitting her with the force of a battering ram. It wasn't the instinct that repulsed her. It was their impudence. The fact that such wretched, dirty, and primitive creatures had the audacity to even think of her in such a way. That they dared to defile her person with their primitive desire.
"You are not worthy of it... even your gaze soils me," she whispered so quietly that only Lysandra, standing right behind her, could hear.
Lilith lifted her head, looking sideways into the eternally dark sky of the Valley of Eternal Darkness. She felt an icy shiver. This wasn't just a physical change. Her body had become powerful, her blood had become royal, but it was her mind that was undergoing the most terrifying metamorphosis. Slowly, layer by layer, human empathy was giving way to the pride of a Monarch.
"It seems my mentality is also ceasing to be human," she muttered to herself, not knowing whether she should fear it or accept it as a necessity.
Lysandra, seeing her Mistress's hesitation, took a step forward. Her presence was soothing, yet it radiated raw pragmatism.
"Lilith," Lysandra began, her voice low and devoid of unnecessary emotion. "Don't fight what you're feeling. It isn't cruelty; it's the order of the universe."
Lilith looked at her askance, seeking an explanation.
"A lion feels no hatred for the mouse that looks at it, but it will not allow the mouse to climb onto its back," Lysandra continued with painful honesty. "Your nature is evolving because your position demands it. A monarch who looks at their subjects as equals quickly ends up stabbed in a dark alley. This revulsion you feel is your self-preservation instinct. It draws the barrier between a God and vermin. If you let them believe they can 'desire' You, they will lose respect. And without respect... only chaos remains. Your 'humanity' was a weakness that this world would have torn from you anyway. It is better that it happens now, on Your terms."
Lilith remained silent, processing these words. They were wise, mature, and terrifyingly true. Lysandra wasn't comforting her - she was simply describing the anatomy of power. Was Lilith ready to stop being human to become a true Queen? Looking at the powerful castle before her, she understood there was no way back.
Lilith let a quiet, trembling sigh out of her lungs, and the glow of the magic saturating the castle walls reflected in her eyes. She wasn't sure if this change - this growing sense of superiority and the coldness in her heart - was something she truly wanted. For a moment, she looked into the dark sky, searching for answers the Forest of Eternal Chaos did not want to provide, then shifted her gaze back to Lysandra.
In her mind, like an anchor holding her to the remnants of her former self, a single, inviolable promise flared.
"Lysandra," she began softly but firmly. "The world may change, and I may become a goddess or a demon to others, but remember what I told the three of you at the very start of our journey. The three of you... you are different. I promised you equal rights and partnership. And even if I have to burn this entire forest, I will keep that word."
Lilith moved forward, her steps echoing on the obsidian floor. She felt that this was her ultimate boundary. If she allowed the pride of a Monarch to consume her relationship with those closest to her as well, she would cease to be someone she herself could respect. She would then become just another cold tyrant, hollow inside, looking down on everyone without a shred of authenticity.