After Isavel sealed away Caesar in the catacombs, Robert awoke from his coma and led the Imperial Army to retake the Fortress from the remaining monsters.
The prestige of Queen Flandre once again resounded throughout the Aos Empire.
The hearts that had been unsettled were once more united by the successful subjugation of Caesar’s catacombs, and the vast Empire once again pulled back from the brink of collapse.
With the Empire stabilized, Queen Flandre began her purge.
She would not forget the grand “gifts” brought to her by “Pless” and those Nobles.
……
In the Imperial Assembly Palace, the atmosphere was heavier than ever before.
The sky had yet to lighten, but the magical lamps illuminated the great hall as if it were midday, casting uneasy shadows on every Noble’s face.
Queen Flandre sat on her throne, no longer clad in her usual luxurious gowns, but instead dressed in a sharply tailored, dark red military-style ceremonial uniform, a black velvet cloak trimmed in gold draped over her shoulders.
Her face no longer bore its usual gentle smile; in its place was a cold and merciless severity.
What unsettled everyone even more was the temporary Saintess’s Seat set slightly to the side and behind the throne.
Isavel sat there.
She still wore a black dress, her hair cascading like a waterfall, a smile at her lips, carrying an air of indifference and playful disdain, as if completely unconcerned with everything before her.
She simply sat there quietly, and the Nobles inside the great hall all bowed their heads, finding it hard to breathe. Her very presence was like an unmovable divine mountain that none could resist.
Moreover, her presence signified not only the Oracle Hall, but perhaps the very will of the Goddess.
Between Isavel’s fingers spun a smooth Ice Stone. According to Flandre, this gem was the gift Demon “Pless” had intended for her.
After a careful look, the corner of her lips curled up.
Just as she suspected, this gem held an intense concentration of Abyssal Magic. If she kept it with her, it could even suppress the power within her for a short time.
Although her power could be suppressed, those Demons still couldn’t kill her, but they could kill the people she cared about, bringing their schemes a step closer to success.
Such a cunning plan.
But unfortunately for them, they failed.
Crack—
With a light squeeze, the Ice Stone crumbled to dust in her hand. The Nobles in the hall trembled at the sound, cold sweat beading on their foreheads.
“Bring them in.”
Flandre’s voice was not loud, but it rang out clearly throughout the hall.
The Royal Guards escorted more than a dozen Nobles into the great hall, at their head the minister Pless—except, unlike the others, what appeared in the hall was but a corpse.
That corpse, however, was not the real Pless, but a Demon. The rest were officials who, in their daily dealings, had close ties with the Demon “Pless,” or had been secretly trading with him.
Now, their faces were ashen, bodies trembling.
Flandre gave them no chance to argue. She picked up a testimonial, jointly signed by General Robert and multiple Frontline Commanders, and certified by the Oracle Hall, and read it aloud before all.
Her voice was calm and clear as she listed irrefutable evidence of these Nobles’ collusion with Demons, forging of military reports, delaying of military action, and conspiracy to assassinate the monarch. Thus, the Oracle Hall’s intervention was justified.
Normally, the Oracle Hall would never interfere with the Empire’s politics; as the symbol of the Goddess, they should remain lofty and detached from worldly affairs.
But if there was collusion with Demons within the Empire, the Oracle Hall had ample reason to intervene.
So, even if other Nobles present or the other Empires were dissatisfied, they had no grounds to attack the Oracle Hall.
With each crime read out by Flandre, the faces of the Nobles below paled further.
Some originally neutral or wavering Nobles now looked at the faction of Demon “Pless” with anger and lingering fear.
After all, colluding with Demons was a crime that crossed all political boundaries!
“…….The evidence is irrefutable. Have you anything to say?”
Flandre laid down the testimonial, her gaze sweeping over the prisoners like a sharp sword.
None dared to speak in their defense. They all knelt on the ground, bodies shaking, for before Isavel’s absolute power and this chain of evidence, any attempt at denial was pale and ridiculous.
“According to the Empire Code, those who collude with the Abyss and commit treason or regicide—”
Flandre stood up, and pronounced the final verdict, pausing at each word, “Are sentenced to Execution, to be carried out immediately. Their entire families are to be confiscated, all followers Exiled, Forfeiture of Title, and never again allowed to set foot in the Empire!”
The Royal Guards immediately stepped forward. Amid cries and pleas for mercy, the chief culprits were dragged from the hall, and soon the sound of blades slicing through the air was heard outside. Then, all fell silent.
Through the entire process, Isavel never even lifted her eyelids, as if the matter had nothing to do with her.
With the chief criminals purged, Flandre’s gaze turned to those remaining Nobles whose faces were deathly pale, those who had once had dealings or ambiguous relations with “Pless.”
Her tone softened slightly, but remained cold: “I know that among you, some were deceived by him, and some forced by circumstances. The past, I can choose not to pursue……”
At this, her voice sharpened, and her presence grew even more oppressive:
“But from this day forth, as ministers of the Aos Empire, you must remember—your loyalty belongs only to the Empire and the people of this land!”
“If I ever learn you harbor any intent to collude with the Abyss or disturb the Kingdom Law, then the fate of those rebels just now will be yours as well!”
At these words, the other Nobles and ministers in the hall all bowed their heads, declaring they dared not harbor such thoughts.
Only then did Flandre nod in satisfaction and swiftly announce a series of new appointments.
The Aos Empire’s lifeblood, after this incident, was refreshed anew. Flandre had firmly seized the Empire’s military and financial power for herself.
Of course, the “Pless” affair involved far more Nobles than those killed in the hall today. Many more relied on their private armies to flee within or beyond the Empire’s borders.
These were the ones Flandre would later send the Imperial Army to eliminate.
But such things were not urgent.
As court adjourned, only Flandre and the still-seated Isavel remained in the vast hall.
Flandre let out a long breath, her tense back relaxing slightly, fatigue on her face, but her eyes gleamed brilliantly.
She walked to Isavel, not with the posture of a Queen facing an ally, but with a subtle cunning, like the woman who had snuck into her bed that night.
“Thank you.”
She spoke softly.
Those two words carried countless meanings: thanks for saving her life, for her help today, for granting her the chance to fully grasp the Empire’s reins.
Of course, most of all, she thanked fate.
For it was fate that had brought them together.
At last, Isavel lifted her gaze, looking at the Queen before her who now seemed as young as a maiden. With a meaningful smile, she said, “Is that all? Just thank you?”
At her words, Flandre’s heart involuntarily quickened.
Leaving her throne, she moved like a graceful black cat, silent as she ascended the steps to the Saintess’s Seat, until she stood before Isavel.
She said nothing, simply leaning down, hands resting lightly on the arms of Isavel’s chair, as if this was enough to enclose the other in her embrace.
She lowered her head, her warm breath brushing Isavel’s cool cheek.
“So, what else do you want?”
Flandre’s voice was very soft, carrying a faint note of playful blame, but even more, a certain triumphant joy.
Isavel’s long lashes trembled slightly, her deep black eyes clear under the magical lamps. She didn’t move, nor did she push Flandre away, but smiled at her with a predatory air.
Such silent acquiescence could only encourage Flandre.
She hesitated no longer, bowing her head, her face flushed, pressing her lips to Isavel’s in a kiss both reverent and possessive.
At first it was just a brush, but that cool, soft sensation was like the strongest wine, intoxicating Flandre, igniting feelings long suppressed.
The kiss deepened, becoming fiery and lingering.
Flandre fell backward, her slender waist held by Isavel, as if in response, their feelings flowed ceaselessly between them.
The majesty in Flandre’s eyes melted into tenderness and dreamy longing.
Lying in Isavel’s arms, she looked into those eyes where hidden currents seemed to surge, and whispered, half-provocative, half-coquettish:
“Now… this palace, this throne, and I… all belong to you, Viel.”
Isavel smiled softly, her fingertip brushing over Flandre’s slightly swollen lips, her movements calm as the sea, yet alluring in their own way.
Flandre laughed—a sly, satisfied cat.
Then, instead of retreating, she pressed Isavel down beneath her.
Isavel did not push her away or speak further, one hand still at Flandre’s waist, the other unconsciously twining a strand of golden hair.
Outside the hall, time seemed to pause. Sunlight through the windows stretched their entwined figures across the seats, where icy power and soft limbs mingled, and the hem of the black dress swayed like a flower.
The scent of lavender slowly filled the entire palace.
……
Within the newly discovered Monster Catacomb at Galwin Magic Academy.
On the Fourth Level of the catacomb, the Rose Knights moved stealthily through the darkness.
The air was thick with the foul stench of corpses and sulfur, the eerie blue crystals on the walls their only source of light.
Along the way, they had slain countless monsters, yet even so, they had only just reached the Fourth Level.
By their reckoning, clearing the entire catacomb might take several months.
Just as they pressed forward, a swirl of twisted black mist coalesced ahead, forming a blurry humanoid figure before them.
“A Demon?!”
Leanna and the others quickly drew their swords, but the Demon stepped back, waving its hands frantically, “No need to be nervous, young ladies, I mean you no harm.”
“Hmph, a Demon claiming to mean no harm—who in this world would believe that?”
Leanna mocked, but the Demon just chuckled, shrugging, “It’s fine if you don’t believe me. I’m only here to say a few words.”
As it spoke, its gaze swept across each youthful, resolute face, its eerie voice resonating in their minds, thick with seductive magic.
“You’re all still so young. Why risk your lives for a world doomed to decay? You despise the Abyss, hate Demons, but only because you don’t know the greatness of Abyssal Magic.”
“I know you—your name is Leanna, leader of the Rose Knights. You desire power, wish to protect your comrades, but bound by mortal rules, you have limits.”
“But in the Abyss, you would gain unmatched strength. That so-called Oracle Maiden is nothing but your stepping stone. With Abyssal Magic, you could even rival the gods!”
It looked at Leanna, stretching out a hand as if to welcome her into the Abyss.
Though Leanna ignored it, the Demon didn’t seem upset, merely turning to another girl.
“And you, Teresa!”
“You possess Divine Grace, a true Divine Maiden. That power makes you a monster in the human world, but in the Abyss, you could lead countless Demons, become a true overlord!”
The Demon’s words were sweet poison, striking at the most vulnerable or yearning places in each heart. The catacomb fell silent, only the girls’ faint breathing audible.
No one answered, but the Demon didn’t mind; after all, as a Demon, it was adept at talking to itself.
“Of course, these are just the shallowest benefits of the Abyss. Even if you don’t consider the Abyss, think about your lives now.”
“I know the Oracle Maiden has you training at the edge of life and death—aren’t you afraid of dying? You all have families!”
“Think about it. If you join the Abyss, you’ll have the power to resist that Maiden, maybe even kill her, cut off her head with your own hands…”
But before it could finish, Teresa, wielding the Ice Sword, stabbed through the Demon Projection’s heart with a speed nearly invisible to the eye.
“You talk too much,” she said coldly, her tone full of contempt.
Not only her—behind her, Meilin, Aixi, and the others all looked disgusted. If Teresa hadn’t been closest, one of them would have been the first to kill the Demon.
The Demon’s projection wavered, clearly surprised by such a resolute rejection, enough to make it wonder if it had stepped on some landmine in these girls’ hearts.
Having been rejected, it was no longer interested in continuing.
It let out a furious snarl, “…Fools! When the end comes, you’ll regret today’s choice!”
With that, the shadow vanished, leaving the girls behind, all of whom scoffed in disdain at its temptation.
Kill the Oracle Maiden?
Try to tempt them with that?
That Demon really was courting death!