Edlyn smoothed that strange ripple in her chest, like wind flattening ripples on a pond. Curiosity pricked, then she spoke first. “Why do you look totally fine?”

Angelo, directing the Demon Race like a conductor in a storm of banners, had somehow found red square glasses. She blinked, playful as a fox in snow. “Uh... as a strategist, I always prepare for special cases.”

She shrugged, casual as drifting clouds. “I tweaked this body to match the woman you had in mind.”

Edlyn’s lashes fluttered like moth wings. “Huh? So what do you really look like?”

“Uh... I thought this would be easier on your eyes.” Angelo ruffled her hair, leaves stirring under a mild breeze.

Edlyn, on the throne like a moon above dark water, pinched Angelo’s cheeks. Emotion surged first, then action. “Quit it—show me now!”

Angelo shrugged again, shoulders light as falling petals. Her frame began to shrink, a slow tide receding, until she stopped around one-sixty, one-seventy centimeters.

Her figure leveled out, a plain after mountains. Edlyn’s eyes lit up like lanterns in dusk.

Finally. A teammate who isn’t so... much. Relief flashed like rain after drought. She sprang from the throne, bright as a sparrow, and skipped to Angelo’s side.

Edlyn fell silent, a stray cloud crossing the sun.

Angelo peered down at the shorter Demon King, gentle as warm tea. “Uh... Your Majesty?”

Edlyn looked up, tears pooling like glass beads. Then the spark snapped. She kicked Angelo’s rear, lightning in a clear sky. “Why’re you so tall? You looking down on me?!”

“No! This is just me,” Angelo yelped, a cat startled by falling snow. “I even think I’m short. Perfect height used to be near two meters, right?”

Edlyn ground her teeth, a millstone turning. So my height’s trash now?

Angelo, oblivious to her ruler’s brewing storm, got waved away like smoke from incense.

Edlyn yawned, a lion under moonlight. Once every demon wakes, the power she’s hoarded will cocoon her for a molt. She can only wait, like seeds under frost.

What’s the world outside like now? Elder Ugillian... probably already— Her head dipped, gloom settling like dusk mist.

Ahead, the Supreme Demon Ruler’s demons turned raw materials into altars and production lines, embers becoming furnaces. Angelo dissected the intel Edlyn gave, like a hawk stripping bones.

With her inhuman mind—gears spinning, sparks flying—she kept testing and charting. She simulated human tech and thought structures, then had demons rebuild them with crude stuff, brick by stubborn brick.

The pity was sharp as winter air: Edlyn’s way of touching elements didn’t fit the others. Without human blood, that door stays shut like stone.

They had to do it the old way—bind element energy with demonic qi, chains rattling in a windy cave. The efficiency was awful, barely a third of the human pace.

At least with human-style altars, it’s faster now, smoke rising straighter in the wind.

Edlyn slouched on the throne, another yawn drifting like fog. So I’m a useless Demon King?

She jerked upright, heart thumping like drumbeats. Fighting? She can’t beat Angelo yet. Construction? She’s snow in a kiln—wrong craft.

What’s she good at? She kneaded her temples, rain tapping the eaves.

Cooking?

(Eli: “Open wide, babe—ah.” Edlyn: “Mmm, tasty.”) The memory was honey warmed under sun.

Uh... she’s better at eating. If not for her pull over demons, she’s got no real strengths. That sting bit like frost.

Edlyn clenched her teeth, then tiptoed over, little steps tapping like sparrows. “Hey, does being pretty and cute count as a plus?”

Angelo blinked, fog in her gaze, then patted Edlyn’s head, soft as a breeze. “My Majesty, I’m swamped. No time to dote. Go play.”

“Oh... okay.” Edlyn tiptoed back, small boat adrift on a wide river. She’s doomed—despised by her own subordinate.

“Hey? Anyone? Hey?” A strange voice rippled through the Abyss, like a pebble tossed into dark water.

“Emmmm... okay, guess it’s not this side.” The voice faded, smoke curling then thinning.

Edlyn froze, lightning cracking across her chest. That voice?!

“Stinky Hero!” Joy burst like firecrackers. She shouted, echo rolling through cavern and bone.

No one answered. Demons glanced at their king, eyes like cold stars. Angelo frowned, a line cut by a blade. Was that a Hero?

“Eli! Answer me! Eli! You stinky Eli!” Edlyn yelled, throat bright as a bell in winter air.

The Abyss fell silent for a few breaths, snow muffling sound. Edlyn’s head drooped, wilted leaves.

Then the voice came again, bright as dawn over a ridge. “Ai-chan? Is that you?!”

“It’s me, it’s me! Where are you?” Edlyn shouted, joy rushing like a spring flood.

Eli gave a wry smile, moonlight on still water. “I don’t know where I am. I’m projecting my voice by soul sense, like tossing lanterns into the dark, hoping someone hears. Then I can find my way.”

“Huh? You don’t know where? Aren’t you in the Abyss?” Edlyn blinked, confusion fluttering like startled sparrows.

Eli looked around at a vast river of stars, constellations like silver fish. He went quiet, then spoke slow. “I think... I’m not in the Abyss.”

So he’s far away. Edlyn’s brows knit, threads pulled tight. Then how’s he throwing his voice so far?

Eli stood on the void, a lone pine on a cliff. He pressed his palms together. Stars spun between them, a tiny galaxy swirling like tea leaves.

A flat pane opened before him, glass pulled from night. Edlyn’s image shimmered on it, a lake holding the moon.

He gritted his teeth, steel under silk. This is all I can do for now.

Let me see you again. Just one glance and I’ll burn like a comet. He smiled, warmth like sunrise.

His gaze slid past Edlyn to the woman behind her—blue robes, red square glasses, heroic as a blade under rain.

Eli blinked, then blurted, thunder not waiting for clouds. “Is that...?”

Edlyn stared up, choosing the sky when choices ran thin. “What?”

“The one beside you, could it be—”

“Huh?”

“Crimson Kite Immortal??”

“What?”

“Fuhua Shangxian, boundless might! Shenzhou Tablet, inch-force splits the sky!”