The Damned Demon

From the shadows, Isola appeared, her presence like a calming breeze, "I understand why you did it," she said softly, her smile tinged with sadness, "It's just...hard, seeing her in so much pain even to this day."

"You have your own kind of courage, Isola," Asher acknowledged, stepping towards her with an appreciative nod, "Confronting your mother's fears, challenging age-old beliefs... not many would dare."

Isola's gaze was filled with a mix of admiration and affection as she looked up at Asher, "You know, not many would have the nerve to stand up to my mother as you did," she remarked, her voice carrying a note of pride, "Not even my father dares to push her boundaries."

Asher's chuckle was a soft rumble in the quiet chamber, "Sometimes family is too close to see the battle clearly," he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, "That's why I told you I won't let you fight this alone."

"I noticed you held back with Vraxos," she said, shifting the topic subtly, her gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you for allowing him to save some face. You could have ended the match much earlier."

Asher briefly smiled, his eyes reflecting a respect for his opponent, "I also wanted to see what kind of a general he was. All your people have the same quality. It's rare to see such unity and strength."

Asher felt that he had never seen any other race as united as the Umbralfiends. It was as if nothing could faze them.

Isola's voice was soft, yet filled with conviction as she spoke of her people, "To us, everyone is family. And I can't wait for you to be a part of that family too."

His nod was solemn as he pulled her into an embrace, "So do I."

Rebecca's presence commanded the space as she strode through the opulent corridors of the Bloodwing Mansion, her long silver hair streaming behind her like a comet's tail.

Her voice was as sharp as the blade at her side, cutting through the murmurs and shuffling of the servants and physicians with an authority that chilled the air.

"Make sure not a single drop of it is wasted," she ordered, her eyes glinting with a ruthless light, "If this doesn't work, not a drop of blood will be left in your bodies," Her threat hung heavily in the air, and the physicians nodded frantically, fear etching deep lines into their faces.

"Yes, Your Highness! We won't fail!" they chorused, bowing deeply before scuttling away like frightened rats from a cat.

In the midst of the chaos, a servant approached, his posture stiff with nervousness, "Your Highness, the queen is about to make a public announcement," he stammered, barely able to meet her piercing gaze.

Her pale red eyes narrowed to slits, her mind already racing with possibilities, "Did her majesty mention whether my presence was required?" she asked, her tone suggesting that the correct answer was of utmost importance.

The servant swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "N-no. Your name was not specifically mentioned."

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Rebecca turned her attention back to the task at hand, "Then my husband and the others should be enough. Inform anyone who inquires that I am very busy here for the rest of the day."

As she reached the door of the room where something very crucial awaited, she paused and spun on her heel to address the cluster of servants and maids who had gathered, drawn by the gravity of her presence.

"Let this be clear," she intoned, her voice carrying the weight of an unspoken threat, "Do not disturb me, or anyone in this room, until I emerge. Is that understood?"

The maids and servants bowed deeply, their voices a unified whisper of obedience, "Understood, Your Highness."

The air in Demonstone Castle was thick with anticipation, a living, pulsing thing that echoed the rapidly beating hearts of those gathered within its ancient walls.

Ministers, elders, and officials of high standing clustered together in hushed groups, casting speculative glances toward the throne room's grand entrance.

Seron and his son, Silvan, were seated on the front row on one side of the hall.

His eyes scanned around before leaning his face towards Silvan and asking in a low voice, "Why isn't your mother here? You did tell her, right? She hasn't stepped her foot out of the mansion ever since the quest ended."

Silvan nodded and said, "I did, and I sent a messenger to convey the news personally to her. But I think she doesn't consider this to be too important with everything that she has going on there."

Seron sighed with a look of disappointment and said, "How could she miss an announcement like this? I feel like this is going to be very important since the queen specifically wanted the lords and ladies of House Thorne and Valentine to be present. But she didn't tell me anything else."

Moraxor, Narissara, and Isola were present as well, their presence making the elders and ministers clear their throats and give them unfriendly glances.

Just how could these defeated umbralfiends hold any importance here and have the audacity to stand here without shame?

They still had no idea why the queen had to call them here.

However, Moraxor was not one to cower under the gazes of these puny, drowsy-eyed men and shot a piercing glare back that made them gulp and realize that even if he was stripped of his title, he was still a peak Soul Devourer.

Narissara remained indifferent to such glances, for her mind was preoccupied with far more important things.

Asher's words kept echoing in her mind, and she couldn't even bring herself to look at Isola's face, who was standing beside her.

'A wraith in her life…' Those words still continued to sting her heart, and for some reason, she couldn't feel angry about it even if she wanted to.

As representatives of House Thorne, Thorin Thorne, Esther Thorne, and Sabina were seated before the banners of House Thorne, their presence not going unnoticed while their entourage stood behind.

"Mother, can you guess what the queen is going to announce?" Sabina asked in a low voice with a curve of her lips.

Esther maintained her aloof expression as she sat with folded arms and said without shifting her gaze, "There is no point in guessing. Just wait for it."

"Where's the fun in that, mother?" Sabina smiled as her ghostly red eyes eagerly awaited the arrival of a certain someone while licking her lower lip.

Thorin continued to sit in his chair with an expressionless face while nobody could tell what he was thinking.

On the opposite side, the bright red banner of House Valentine was standing out in the hall as well.

In front of a dozen of them from the House were seated the most dazzling family of nobles.

Lord Vernon Valentine was holding his wife, Naida's hand when he said with a composed smile, "I feel like something big is going to happen. What do you think, dear?"

Naida gave a graceful smile as she answered, "I feel like whatever the queen is going to announce is going to be beneficial for our kingdom," She then turned to the other side and looked at her daughter, "Don't you think so, my little rose?"

"As long as it could help us get closer to House Drake, Silvia doesn't mind," Silvia said with a bright, cheerful smile, making Naida pat her head with an amused smile.

Vernon raised one of his brows and asked his son in a low voice, "Any idea why she wants to form a stronger relationship with the Drakes after returning from the quest? Did she befriend any one of them?"

Jael lightly chuckled and said, "She did get friendly with the consort. I am sure the two of them somehow worked out their past quarrels."

"Oh…" Veron furrowed his brows and nodded.

Meanwhile,

"Have you heard anything?" one minister whispered, his forehead creased with concern.

"Not a whisper," replied an elder, stroking his long, white beard thoughtfully, "The queen has kept it to herself all this time."

They all knew that the queen's public proclamations were not without their gravity. When she spoke, it was not just to be heard—it was to be felt, to ripple through the foundations of their society.

The sense of expectancy heightened as the massive doors of the throne room groaned open.

A collective intake of breath filled the room as the queen entered, her presence commanding immediate silence. Beside her, her consort moved with steady steps, his eyes scanning the crowd with an unreadable expression.

Flanking them were the formidable Bloodborn Guards, their presence a silent but deadly warning.

The assembly bowed low, a sea of bowed heads and bent knees, their voices a murmur of reverent greetings, "Your Majesty," they intoned, their words overlapping in a chorus of fealty.

Rowena ascended to her throne with the effortless grace that had become her hallmark, a stillness settling over her as she sat.

Asher, in a gesture of subtle support, took his place just below, a seat reserved for him.

Rowena's voice, when it finally came, was clear and resonant, reaching every corner of the vast room.

"Rise," she commanded, and as one body, the assembly straightened, their gazes fixed upon her.

"Today," she began, her tone imbued with the weight of her office, "I stand before you to share tidings that will chart a new course for our kingdom's future."

A collective rustle ran through the crowd, a wave of raised eyebrows and widened eyes.

Whispers were swallowed back as everyone present braced for what was to come.

"Times of trial loom on our horizon," Rowena's voice rang out, her tone solemn yet fierce, "and we've felt the sting of vulnerability since my father, may his spirit rest with the Devourer, passed from this world. Our enemies circle like vicious beasts—both the humans, who seek our destruction as a whole, and enemies beyond our lands and within who would see our legacy turned to ash."

Nods of agreement came from the crowd, a silent acknowledgment of the whispered truths that danced on the edge of their fears.

They could easily guess whom she was talking about.

"Our past strength may seem like legends told to lull younglings to sleep," she continued, her gaze sweeping over the sea of faces, "but it is a legacy—a promise of what we can reclaim. Under the Devourer, our might was unchallenged, a myth to those who did not witness it. I stand before you to declare those days will be our reality once more."

A ripple of shock and awe passed through the crowd. It was a daring claim, one that challenged the very notion of their current limitations.

She was right. It was indeed considered a dream, a myth, an impossible reality they wouldn't even dare to imagine would come true again.

Their kingdom was the strongest in the realm when the Devourer ruled it, to the point it was said that the present Draconis Kingdom would cower under its might.

But how could she declare it so boldly with such confidence? No ruler in the past could say that with such fervor. Where was this coming from?

"And so," Rowena's voice rose with commanding clarity, "we will rise from the shadows of our former glory. I shall not tread this path alone. For the strength of a kingdom is its unity, and the bond of its rulers must be the forge upon which that strength is tempered."

She paused, letting the words resonate, letting them reach into the heart of every last skeptic in the room.

"This is why, with the dawn of tomorrow's sun, we shall crown a king to stand beside me. Asher Drake shall be elevated, his strength, his wisdom, and valor will be the twin pillars upon which our future is built," As she said this, her gaze softened as it landed on Asher.

A collective gasp filled the hall, a sound that seemed to suck the very air from the room.

She is declaring her consort as the king?!

This was unprecedented!

It was a declaration that defied tradition, a bold move that could either unite their people or splinter them further.

Moraxor's eyes widened to their extremities while Narissara's brows raised as she mumbled with a look of disbelief, "King?" She couldn't help but wonder what the Bloodburn Queen was thinking.

Isola's face brightened up as her lips arched into a soft smile. She could feel it in her bones that from this day on, the world would change significantly.