The door to the grand throne room was knocked three times. A moment of silence passed before the deep, commanding voice of the burly King, seated firmly on his throne, echoed through the expansive space. “Come in.”

At the King’s command, the large doors were pushed open from both sides by two guards clad in dark, ebony armor, revealing a thin yet still strong-looking woman in a white robe with two small gray horns on either side of her head. She bowed respectfully before the King, who remained shrouded in shadow, and did not speak or raise her head until he gave her permission. However, after the King gestured with a commanding hand, she stood up straight and began to speak.

"Your Majesty, the esteemed Queen Quetlas has successfully brought the heir into the world." Bowing her head again, she continued, "With all due respect, if Your Majesty wishes to see the young heir, I shall bring them before you immediately."

The King maintained his silence, allowing it to linger in the room for a moment. The figure sitting on the throne was imposing and intimidating. In the dimly lit throne room, the light that touched the throne revealed long, pale fingers gripping the armrests, with black, claw-like nails that hinted at something ominous. His face, obscured by the shadows, not only stirred mystery but also contributed to the eerie atmosphere in the room, faintly illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the half-drawn curtains and a few candlelights.

Though the woman couldn’t see his face, she could feel the weight of his piercing gaze in the darkness. It was suffocating—no, it was beyond suffocating. It felt as if breathing was the hardest thing in the world, as if her heart might stop at any moment. Nevertheless, she struggled to maintain her composure, managing somehow to remain steady and resolute before him.

Finally, the King rose slowly, deliberately, using the armrests for support. His full figure, now revealed, was both imposing and unsettling, with a bony, angular face that emerged into view. His beard, mostly black with gray undertones, extended down to his abdomen and even his groin, matching his straight, long black hair that flowed down to his back. However, his clean-shaven mustache gave him a distinctive air.

Despite appearing to be in his early forties or late thirties, the most striking feature of this imposing figure wasn’t his paper-pale skin, his piercing black eyes, or his handsome face. No, all these paled in comparison to the twisted, black horns on either side of his head. They curled upwards from the sides of his head, their sharp tips pointing skyward like a crown.

As he walked toward the woman with slow, intentional steps, the echo of his footsteps was the only sound in the vast hall. Floida, holding her breath, dared not meet the King’s eyes. She couldn’t.

The King spoke again, his tone commanding but devoid of emotion, “Bring them.”

Without hesitation, Floida bowed her head respectfully, walked toward the door, and knocked several times. The door opened again from the outside by the same two guards, and Floida gestured to someone outside with her hand, signaling them to enter.

The person who entered was Queen Quetlas herself, cradling the baby in her arms. Even as a queen, she couldn’t appear before the King without permission or enter the throne room of her own will. It wasn’t because of a patriarchal rule; rather, whoever took the throne, regardless of gender, wielded absolute power and authority, while their spouse served as their supporter.

The Queen was undoubtedly a beautiful woman. Her silky white hair, paper-pale skin, and vibrant red lips, matching her eyes, complemented her shapely and voluptuous figure in a way that was worth seeing. Her horns were also similar to the King’s, black and twisted.

Approaching King Aidz Hū Baūl gracefully, her elegant figure carried the small bundle in her arms, wrapped in silk.

“Your Majesty,” she said, offering a slight but respectful curtsy, presenting the newborn for the King to see. As King Aidz approached his wife, his eyes never left the swaddled infant. Though his tall figure cast a formidable shadow over her, the Queen didn’t seem to mind. She lifted her head and gazed into her husband’s deep, black eyes, which seemed capable of swallowing the darkness itself. She then unwrapped the swaddle, revealing the newborn, the princess. During this time, she never looked away from the King, her crimson eyes flickering with a mix of uncertainty and hope.

King Aidz didn’t show any emotion, but even he couldn’t help but furrow his brow slightly. When he looked at the baby—or rather, his daughter—he saw a reflection of his own dark eyes within her. Instead of her mother’s bright red eyes, she possessed his dull, monotonous, and ominous gaze. Yet somehow, the curious look in her exploring eyes revealed a purity that he himself did not have. With her hair tinged gray, red lips, and the demons’ signature paper-pale skin, she was a cute little creature.

But the problem lay here.

One of the two horns characteristic of demons was missing. This wasn’t an unprecedented occurrence within the royal family, of course. Throughout history, a few demon rulers had been born this way. However, these rulers either died young for various reasons or led lives filled with misfortune. Therefore, according to the newly established demon constitution, those born with a single horn could not inherit rulership, even if they were the ruler's firstborn or the most capable child.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

So, this girl was also out of luck.

The king lifted his gaze from the baby and looked at the queen. His eyes and emotionless expression revealed nothing of what he thought, but the queen knew him well. He was filled with great disappointment and rage, not only because the firstborn had a single horn but also because they would have to wait another century to conceive again.

Demon women couldn’t bear another child for a century after giving birth. It didn’t matter how many times her womb had been fertilized; the result was always the same. And Queen Quetlas knew that Aidz wouldn’t wait that long. Demons were bound to their spouses by honor, and divorce could only occur if one party died.

So, everything was clear as day.

Quetlas swallowed involuntarily, her throat dry. The realization washed over her like scalding water, without anyone having to say a word. She held her baby tighter, and with a pleading look in her eyes, she began to speak.

“Your Majesty—” But before the queen could finish her sentence, the doors to life had already closed in her face.

Aidz impaled the woman’s chest, without hesitation, including the baby she held. Both mother and child were pierced by the king’s hand, covered in dark aura.

The queen’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief as she first looked at her baby and then at the king. As black tears streamed from her eyes, her motherly heart, feeling the burning agony of her baby who had ceased crying before it could even begin, ignited with pure hatred and fury for the man she once loved in her final moments.

She clawed at his neck, striking him, and for a moment, she truly had him. But even as black blood dripped from his wound onto the hard floor of the throne room, the injury seemed to heal instantly as if nothing had happened.

“Curse you... curse you...” she cursed before taking her last breath. Her clawed fingers, which had sunk into his arm, lost strength and fell limply to her side.

A profound silence enveloped the vast throne room. Floida, once the queen's lady-in-waiting, and the two guards stood frozen, their eyes wide in shock, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

The king’s hand, which had once pierced the heart of a woman who once embodied grace, beauty, and the joy of motherhood, now held two lifeless souls. The queen, who had become nothing more than a lifeless shell, hung there with her baby.

Finally, the king pulled his hand from the woman’s chest and, in stark contrast to his earlier actions, gently laid her and the baby on the ground.

As he stood upright, his emotionless gaze fell on Floida, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

“Take them,” he ordered, looking at the lifeless queen and her daughter. “Make sure they are given a proper farewell ceremony,” he said in a cold tone, fixing his gaze on Floida.

The woman swallowed hard and quickly nodded. “Y-yes, Your Majesty. As you wish.” If she hadn’t already possessed the unnatural pale skin typical of demons, she certainly would have now.

Without giving her a second glance, Aidz turned his back on the corpses and walked back to his throne.

...

Floida glanced at the lifeless bodies of Queen Quetlas and her unfortunate newborn baby, feeling an involuntary mix of pity and disgust. She was a noblewoman appointed as the queen's lady-in-waiting by the king himself. However, in truth, she secretly worked for the king, observing the queen and reporting any signs of rebellion against Aidz.

How unfortunate; that woman was truly a loyal queen. And her newborn daughter, entirely innocent, was just an unlucky soul.

Floida cast a discreet look at Aidz as he approached his throne. The king was truly a demon. He was the embodiment of why humankind and all other races feared and loathed demons.

Even she could not suppress her revulsion towards him.

As she made a brief bow to the figure climbing the steps of his throne, Floida turned toward the exit of the throne room to call in the staff and clear up the tragic mess as quickly as possible.

“Bwaaah!!”

But at that moment, something unexpected happened. Floida’s breath caught as she quickly turned around. Even Aidz, who was about to sit on his throne, opened his eyes in shock.

Could this be possible?

The baby was crying. Yes, it had only been moments since Aidz had taken her life, yet she was still alive? Had a small infant truly survived Aidz’s attack?

Floida rushed over to the small baby lying on the queen’s body, her once white cloth now stained with black blood.

There was so much blood pouring from the wound in her chest, and even though... her heart had been crushed...

Even though Floida was a demon herself, she was no warrior. Yes, she was training, and cultivating but in such a situation, she struggled to suppress the urge to vomit. Even a soldier might have felt the same.

Forgetting about the small baby, it was almost impossible for even a powerful demon to survive this. Her heart, where it should have been, was completely gone, or rather, obliterated, and several of her organs were missing.

The king approached Floida swiftly and took the baby from her hands. She watched, unable to do anything but observe as Aidz, with an expression of shock and disbelief—an expression she found strange on his normally composed face—examined the crying baby, turning her from side to side.

But isn’t this all too absurd?

This was the shared thought between Floida, Aidz, and even the guards in the room.

...

She didn’t know what was happening; she couldn’t comprehend it. The reborn princess, or rather the soul that took her place, seeking a vessel, had no awareness of anything.

All memories, all that had been... Her first life, her death, and the millennia spent in the mound of souls were nothing more than faint traces that had abandoned her in this new life.

Her father, squinting at her as if she were some strange case—though she was, struggled to make sense of the situation.

From an outsider’s perspective, it might appear as though the tiny demon was crying for the pain of her torn body. However, this was nothing more than the normal response of a newborn. Altough, she had lost her heart, several kidneys, and even the glands that produce pain and fear hormones, she was still a newborn.

Of course, an outsider could not possibly know this.

“Is... is the princess still alive? But... how? She’s still... she’s still...” The woman’s voice, filled with disbelief, echoed softly through the vast room, almost like a whisper. This was, in fact, an indication of just how silent the room had become after the princess had stopped crying and begun to observe her surroundings with her enormous, dull black eyes. As the silence deepened, everyone realized they had been holding their breath and slowly exhaled.

One of the guards approached the king respectfully, bowing his head before speaking. “Your Majesty, should we call the physician?” Normally, a guard wouldn’t dare to move unless instructed otherwise, let alone speak to the king directly. Yet, in such a situation, even the king ignored this and merely cast him a brief, cold look of warning.

However, Floida thought the guard actually had a right. If nothing was done, even if the little princess had revived, she might lose her life again.

As Floida thought this to herself, it didn’t take long for King Aidz to make a decision. Looking at Floida, he commanded, “You, come with me.” His eyes remained emotionless as they moved to the queen’s corpse on the floor. For a moment, he stared at the elegant figure lying there, the woman who once breathed. Perhaps his gaze carried the delicate threads of a farewell, or maybe he was simply observing the result of his own hand. Only Aidz would know the reason.

Finally, as he lifted his gaze, he met the guard’s eyes—or rather, the thin visor of his ebony helmet. “Take the queen... to her chamber. Preserve the body for now.”

Freezing the body to prevent decay until a proper funeral ceremony was the best course of action, especially to avoid any potential mana burst. At least, that’s how the king saw it.

With that, the king quickly exited the throne room, carrying the princess who stared up at him with an unsettling intensity, followed closely by Floida.

Thus the way was prepared for Meldon, the royal physician and alchemist.

*

Now it's time to find out what this infant is all about.