“Division?” Seraphina’s head snapped up, the word tumbling from her lips in a murmur.
A flash of understanding lit her eyes!
Then, in a surge of excitement, she slammed the desk and shot to her feet, one hand dramatically pointing forward!
“I’ve got it! There is only one truth!”
“Eh? What are you—”
“Cough, cough! Never mind!” Realising she had gotten a little too carried away, Seraphina hurriedly coughed to cover her embarrassment and quickly sat back down.
“Lina, you’ve hit the crucial point! Whether Giantwing Demons, Bloodborn, Shadow Demons, or Fangs of Terror, they all act only for the benefit of their own race. Has even one of them ever, for a single moment, thought of themselves as citizens of the Demon Realm?”
Her gaze inadvertently drifted to the enormous map of the entire Demon Realm hanging on the wall. “The Demon Realm isn’t a country at all!”
She walked slowly to the window, staring at the sky outside the Demon King’s Castle as it gradually darkened. Beneath that sky, who truly considered themselves a child of the Demon Realm?
“For a nation in the true sense to exist, its people must be able to answer one core question: ‘Who am I?’”
“Lina! You’re an absolute genius!”
As though a vital knot inside her had finally untied, Seraphina looked at Lina with eyes brimming with excitement and delight.
“Tell me honestly, were you really just an ordinary slave before? No, you must have received systematic education! Your real identity definitely isn’t ordinary!”
Through this conversation, Seraphina suddenly recalled all of Lina’s behaviour: the way she learned, the way she carried herself day-to-day; none of it resembled a slave’s.
And that unyielding strength when they first met; that would never appear in someone who had lived in a daze.
“Um… I really was just a slave. I… I still have the brand…”
Lina’s eyes darted away, her words stumbling, barely squeezing out the sentence.
“The brand? Let me see!”
“N-no need! It’s… it’s getting late. You should rest.” Lina’s voice sounded completely unnatural, and she began inching backward.
“Eh?” In the end, Seraphina could only watch as Lina bolted out the door, looking as flustered as if she had done something terribly wrong.
“What the heck! I just wanted to see if I could remove the brand for you.”
“Sigh…”
From Lina’s reaction, it was clear she didn’t want to be seen. Better to take it slowly.
…
Night fell deep and heavy; the clamor of the Demon King’s Castle had quieted.
Seraphina remained curled on one side of the vast bed, back turned to Movira, still not asleep.
She was gradually realising that the Demon Realm was, at its core, nothing more than a loose tribal confederation held together solely by Movira’s threat of force.
“Not sleeping yet?” Movira’s voice came from behind. An arm naturally slipped around Seraphina’s waist, gently pulling her closer into an embrace.
“My darling, what are you thinking about?”
Warm breath brushed against Seraphina’s ear.
“I’m thinking about the Fangs of Terror… and those human anti-demon bolts.”
Seraphina’s body stayed stiff. She tried to wriggle free, but it was futile.
“Oh?”
“Just a bunch of clowns dancing on beams, plus some humans who don’t know the height of the sky. What’s this? Is my Princess Regent actually troubled by such trifles?”
“This is not a trifle!” Seraphina turned around, meeting Movira’s night-dark eyes in the dim light.
“The leader of the Fangs of Terror dares to act this way because they see only their own interests; they have never once thought as part of the Demon Realm. The reason humans can smuggle weapons to them is precisely our internal division; the Demon Realm lacks a unified identity!”
Movira had never imagined Seraphina would agonise over something like this. In her view, it was a problem that could be solved with ease.
“Identity? They don’t need any identity. You always overthink everything, wanting to account for every tiny detail. That’s impossible.”
“The only ‘identity’ the Demon Realm has ever needed is me! My will is their identity!”
As she spoke, Movira reached out, slowly twirling a strand of Seraphina’s hair around her finger, her tone carrying the cold cruelty of an absolute ruler.
“The Fangs of Terror… since they have chosen betrayal, let iron and blood teach them remembrance, and let the entire Demon Realm understand: going against your will is going against mine!”
“Rest easy. Very soon, the armies are already deployed. Gorka and his foolish followers, along with the humans smuggling those weapons, will all be wiped out in an instant!”
Hearing those proud, cruel words dripping with violence, Seraphina’s heart sank.
As expected, Movira’s thinking would forever be completely opposite to hers.
Violence might solve the problem for a moment, but it would only breed more hatred. It could never dissolve the barriers between races, and it would only make the very concept of “Demon Realm” even more nebulous.
“And then what?” Seraphina couldn’t help retorting, her voice urgent, as though she were arguing not with Movira but with all the warmongers in court who supported war.
“The Fangs of Terror may disappear, but another ‘Ripper’ or whatever will appear next. The root problem has never been Gorka; it is that there is no unified will that does not rest solely upon your personal authority!”
It had been a long time since Seraphina had shown this side of herself. Movira’s eyes flickered in the shadows, genuinely surprised.
Yet her attention was not on the content of the words themselves. She leaned closer until their foreheads nearly touched.
“You always manage to surprise me with something new. But for now, violence is the only and the best way. After I clear every obstacle for you, you may lead the Demon Realm wherever you wish. Isn’t that good enough?”
Movira’s words sounded supportive, yet they still clung stubbornly to the creed of violence.
“I just think… there is a better way.” Seraphina’s voice dropped, not because she felt she had overstepped, but because…
She should have stayed silent long ago. Within Movira’s philosophy of power, there was only ever that one simple logic.
And the only reason Movira supported her was because she treated it all as a game.
That was what truly exhausted and disappointed Seraphina.
A pointless argument.
Movira was far more conservative than Seraphina had ever imagined.
Seraphina fell silent and turned her back again.
As long as she remained inside the Demon King’s Castle, Movira’s will was omnipresent, her biased ideology inescapable.
Under such a will and ideology, Seraphina could never truly find a real solution, nor could she ever understand the demons who lived upon this land.
Their thoughts, their hardships, whether they could ever be brought together; Seraphina knew nothing.
Perhaps… she should go see for herself?
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