"Hmm~~~? But if you say I'm beautiful, why won't you look me in the eyes?"

Noah leaned closer to the earnest maid, her delicate fingers lifting Astolfo's chin to force their gazes to meet.

Astolfo's eyes locked onto those clear, mischievous pink orbs. A faint floral scent teased her nose, making her cheeks flush slightly and her heartbeat quicken. She tried to turn away, ashamed of her flustered state, but Noah held her chin firm. Trapped, Astolfo could only stare wide-eyed as Noah's face drew nearer.

That exquisite, breathtaking face—utterly peerless in its beauty.

She wanted to resist. To stop the Holy Maiden with her usual rational arguments. Yet no refusal formed on her lips. Not even a single "no."

All she felt was her senses sinking into a gentle abyss. Her limbs turned soft and weak beneath warm caresses, surrendering completely.

Now Astolfo understood why even millennium-old Demon Lords fell before this Holy Maiden.

She knew she was caught in a dangerous predator's grasp. Knew this was wrong. Unnatural. Yet she still craved sinking deeper...

Craved being wrapped in that warmth... that softness...

Her gaze grew hazy.

*Snap.*

A light tap jolted her awake. Noah patted Astolfo's shoulder, the small shock making the maid snap back to attention.

"Just teasing," Noah chirped, her voice light and playful like a girl who'd pulled a harmless prank. "So, any recommendations for places to visit in the Demon King's Castle?"

"...Hmm."

Astolfo's face paled further.

She'd... actually felt a flicker of forbidden anticipation.

Guilt surged the moment she woke from that dream, then faded just as quickly.

She knew it wasn't entirely her fault. But as a maid—and as a retainer—this lapse was inexcusable.

No excuses. Only correction through perfect service.

"The castle's notable facilities include the library, botanical gardens, kitchens, storerooms, and observatory," Astolfo stated smoothly, clearing her throat. Her tone was professional, utterly devoid of ripples. "Which would you prefer to see?"

"Then take me to the library~" Noah's eyes sparkled with the eager curiosity of an elementary student on a spring outing.

...

**Irusil, the Demon Capital. Throne Room of the Demon King's Castle.**

"Four Royal Knights, twenty-three Demon Lords, and hundreds of civil and military officials stand ready, Your Majesty. Permission to address the court?"

Executor Avel stood before the throne, relaying the Demon King's will to the assembled.

Half the Demon Race present were mere projections—attending the morning court remotely to offer counsel or receive orders.

"Granted."

Ledyah opened her crimson eyes, gazing down at her subjects. The dark crown sat immovable upon her brow; her ornate black gown radiated depth and dread. Her expression held lazy indifference—as if nothing beneath her merited attention, or contempt.

A projected figure stepped forward: General Claire. A Beast Tamer. Commander of the vanguard against humanity.

The murmuring court fell silent. For frontline war reports, none were more credible than the Demon King's own field commander.

No noble bloodline. No monstrous power gained through devouring resources. Just raw talent. Yet not a single soul here dared underestimate her.

Claire's armor clinked as she slammed a fist against her chest in salute.

"Your Majesty. Falmond changed hands within four hours of capture. Our vanguard's demon beasts were nearly annihilated. Remaining forces have retreated into Imperial territory to regroup with reinforcements."

A wave of shock rippled through the hall.

Her report meant one thing: *We've exhausted our strength without gaining an inch of enemy land.*

Several ministers shifted, ready to push their own candidates—until the Demon King's aura pinned them in place.

Ledyah swept her gaze across the silent crowd. Satisfied, she gave a slight nod.

"Well done. Rest until you join Engur's rear forces. Then await further orders."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Claire stepped back sharply.

"So, Your Majesty," boomed a voice. A voluptuous Demon Lord with wavy golden hair swaggered forward, a feral grin on her lips. Engur. Supreme Commander of the war effort. The Blood Lion, infamous for her massacres. "Once we reach the front... we launch the final assault?"

"Hmm." Ledyah's lazy nod came with an addendum:

"The 'Crimson Lotus' unit will join the front soon. Until then, they answer to your command."

The four armored knights at the forefront bowed their heads in reverence.

The leftmost knight—clad head-to-toe in crimson armor—lifted her gaze. Molten intensity burned in her eyes.

The Demon King's Four Royal Knights: Crimson Lotus. Hunting Knight. Impaler. Tower.

Crimson Lotus and Impaler attended as projections; Tower and Hunting Knight stood in person.

"Why would His Majesty..."

A minor official muttered at the edge, too timid to challenge the throne directly.

The Demon King embodied the Race's power. Absolute authority. Every ruler must prove unmatched strength and survive the Court's trials.

To question that authority required a challenger of equal standing—and the right to initiate a Succession Struggle. Victory meant the throne. Defeat meant a fate worse than death.

Yet to most demons, even that "ritual for the defeated" held a warrior's honor.