"Hmm... So, the Coming-of-Age Tournament officially begins," I announced with little enthusiasm.

Yet my slightly weary appearance after dancing with Sulia still ignited cheers from the monstrous crowd. I had no idea what they’d misunderstood.

A group of gray-skinned, long-eared Bas demons—sturdier than humans, with crimson eyes—carried rows of chairs onto a temporary trapezoidal wooden platform atop the grandstand. Three rows in total. Naturally, this was the best viewing spot in the arena.

As the princess, I naturally took the center seat in the front row. But who would sit beside me?

Buqu, the foul-smelling first-floor guardian and boar-man butcher, hesitated near my seat.

"Move aside." Sulia’s icy voice cut through the air behind him. Buqu flinched and scrambled away. Though both were guardians, Sulia was an eighth-tier Vampire Swordswoman, while Buqu was merely a fifth-tier butcher. Their power gap was insurmountable.

Seating arrangements, it seemed, were dictated by strength and status within the Undercity.

Having Sister Sulia beside me was preferable to that fat pig—even if I worried she might tease me. I briefly considered ordering him off the stand, but he was a loyal subordinate. I couldn’t be that harsh.

Sulia settled to my left. Before other demon leaders could claim seats, Feyn Senior approached. Her sleek black bodysuit and pants accentuated her swaying curves, but her expression was stormy. Her long, flowing black hair framed a face that looked anything but pleased.

Without hesitation, she took the seat to my right.

This arrangement made me deeply uneasy.

Normally, Feyn Senior’s presence brought comfort. But after Sulia’s forceful dance—something she’d surely witnessed—I felt like a child caught misbehaving. Her proximity only tightened the knot in my chest.

"F-Feyn Senior... you’re here," I ventured, my voice small and placating.

"Oh, I’ve arrived, Your Highness," she replied, smoothing her hair back. Her tone was glacial. "I hope I’m not... interrupting anything important?"

"Huh? Of course not... heh." I forced a stiff smile, cheeks burning as I fidgeted with the hem of my skirt.

*Why should I feel guilty?* I fumed inwardly. *You rushed to your ex-girlfriend’s side without hesitation! I merely danced with Sulia once—must I endure your glare? As princess, social obligations are part of the role! And what even gives you the right to judge me?*

Soon, all the Undercity’s high-ranking figures took their seats. Seth was nowhere to be seen—I couldn’t be bothered to care.

After a series of sleep-inducing performances arranged by various races (goblin choirs, minotaur cross-dressing dramas, giant ballets...), the actual tournament finally began. The cultural gap was... jarring. My smile felt frozen in place, though I noticed even Sister Sulia had dozed off.

At last—the matches! I did enjoy duels.

*Cliiing!*

"Hello, everyone! I’m your commentator for the Princess’s Coming-of-Age Duel Tournament—Loyning!" A bright, overly enthusiastic voice rang out. "I’m a rookie, making my debut today! Please give me lots of—support! And if I mess up... feel free to punish me however you like~ Hehe!"

I looked up.

Standing at the edge of the grandstand was Sister Luo. She wore an absurdly short pink skirt, a frilly white crop top, and sported large cat ears atop her chestnut bob. A fluffy tail swished playfully behind her. She struck exaggerated feline poses, radiating manic energy.

"Sister Luo... what happened to you in just a few days? What did that succubus Bessdaitiel do to you?" I murmured, pitying her unrecognizable, showboating state.

Surprisingly, the crowd loved her—even if their cheers still fell short of mine. Not that I took pride in that.

I stole a glance at Feyn Senior. She’d gasped behind her hand, eyes wide with girlish shock at Luo’s transformation.

Cat-eared maid Loyning continued: "Now, let’s welcome our first two warriors with thunderous applause!"

"ROOOAR—!!!" The arena erupted. I quickly averted my eyes from a green-skinned female orc tearing open her shirt to shake and howl wildly.

"First up—Ahmuzha, the goblin warrior from Bogge Mine!"

A green-skinned goblin wearing mining goggles stomped into the arena inside a two-meter-tall, rusted goblin mining mech. *Clank-clank-clank.* It lurched forward with every step.

Goblins alone mastered maglight steam furnaces—using magic stones to power machinery. Their civilization far surpassed goblin-kind. My Undercity even used their elevators, though I remained skeptical of such contraptions.

"Strange," I murmured. "I don’t recall any goblin in my tribe skilled with mechs."

Sulia leaned close, her breath warm against my ear: "Princess, they’re from an independent mine outside our territory. They only pledged allegiance recently."

"Oh... right." I shifted away, flustered by her proximity.

Instinctively, I glanced at Feyn Senior. She shot me a sharp, displeased look. *Was that my fault too?*

"And next—our Undercity’s veteran powerhouse! The human villages tremble at the name of the headhunter—Urukhan! Just look at those scarred, manly muscles! I’m getting... *tingly*~ Ahhh~!" Loyning’s voice dripped with fake arousal.

I bristled. *Sister Luo! You’re commentating MY coming-of-age ceremony! Must you act so shameless? I ought to drag you off and discipline you properly!*

"Now, warriors," Loyning purred into her mic, "any last words before the duel?"

The goblin revved his mech’s engine to a deafening roar: "Princess Kuroti! We rejected King Minos’s offer to join your tournament! Why? THIS—" He held up a poster. "—Your promotional poster!"

"*Ooooh—!*" The crowd murmured as the magically enlarged poster flashed above the arena.

It showed me in torn black gauze, bare legs and waist exposed, a black collar around my neck. A chain led from the collar out of frame—as if seen from the hand holding it. The caption read: *"She eagerly awaits your discipline—Princess Coming-of-Age Training Rights Tournament. The Undercity’s Feast."*

"...W-What IS this poster?!" My face burned crimson. I trembled with rage. "Where’s Seth?! Bring him to me! When was this disgusting thing made?! Why wasn’t I consulted?!"

"Seth isn’t here..." Bessdaitiel whispered from the row behind.

"You are the light in our dark caverns! The beacon in our lost mines! Princess Kuroti, you’re adorable! Oh, kalakali, I’m kuku—!"

The goblin launched into rhythmic goblin rap. I tuned out the vulgar lyrics.

"A shadow blocks your path—ME! Urukhan! Orc headhunter!" The red-skinned, bald brute with a black beard hefted a massive, notched cleaver stained with blood. Skulls dangled from his belt—trophies of worthy foes. "I didn’t come for the princess’s ‘training rights’! I came to prove: if you want to be the Undercity’s strongest—you must first defeat ME! ROAR—!!!"

"*OOOHHH—!!!"* The monsters roared for the headhunter.

"And Princess," Loyning thrust a magic amplifier toward me, "your thoughts on their bold declarations?"

"They... spoke well," I managed, chest heaving. "Full of spirit. But—WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE ABOUT ‘TRAINING RIGHTS’ AND THAT DISGUSTING POSTER?!"

Behind me, Bessdaitiel stifled a wicked giggle behind her hand.

"*Heh heh heh—*"

"Lodis! Get out here!" I snapped.

"At your command, Princess!" A puff of violet mist appeared at my feet. Lodis knelt on one knee, her pink ponytail swaying. From my vantage point, I caught a glimpse of white beneath her short pink skirt.

I looked away, my voice turning icy: "Investigate. Find the artist who drew that poster. It’s... *so lifelike*. I want them brought to the deepest chamber of the Undercity. For a... *chat*."

"Yes, Princess! I’ll start immediately."

"Oh—and black suits you better."

"Huh?" Lodis flushed, bewildered.