I produced my sketchbook and drew a few Demons, then showed them to Rosalia. “Can you tell me which is which?”

She nodded and looked at the paper. She pointed at the big, muscly one with long claws and front-facing horns. “Thi is an Invirineth.”

I hummed. Those were the most numerous according to my memories.

“This is an Alkaneth,” she told me, pointing at one with wings I saw in my first dream. “The males are pretty similar in shape.”

“I see,” I muttered.

Knowing the names of Demons wasn't really important, but the chance presented itself.

Rosalia's eyes closed for a second when she saw the next drawing. It was a small Demon with sharp teeth. “This is a child...” she whispered.

I nodded. “What kind?” I asked.

“Invirineth,” she replied, then looked me in the eye with a mix of complicated feelings.

I arched an eyebrow. “What? They got corrupted. Tragic, but you know...” I thought those were imps.

After a few more drawings, Rosalia started crying. The drawings of her kind were the limit, apparently.

So many inconsistencies, I thought, looking at the woman being hugged by her son and husband. If Demons got here three hundred years ago, how did they bring about Changelings? I'm not an expert in biology, but even I know it takes a very long time for one living being to become an entirely different one. Did Danuva have a hand in it? Does she have the ability to? Why aren't people more open about the Gods? Lorena said Changelings tried to kill Miraztor a thousand years ago. Could it be that Nerissa's and Rosalia's were the last groups to leave Hell? Am I here to contain the spread of the Abyss's influence? What if corrupted Demons got here? Would other Halves have reacted? What if they did and nobody knew of it? Is that why Changelings dislike us? Do they all hate us?

Rico glared at me and shook his head in disapproval.

Lord Punten focused on comforting his wife.

My stomach rumbled and I felt my hunger intensify. I gulped the saliva in my mouth and wiped my lips. Nerissa did say time was weird in Hell. Was that because of... maybe. I sighed. Cosmic horrors beyond my comprehension. Gotta love it. Is that why Rosalia got here alone? Can that even happen? Why are things so... convoluted? Can't I just focus on killing mindless monsters and doing the seggs? Am I to horny? Should I be more interested in this? Why is my crotch tingling?!

Rosalia wiped her tears and cleaned her nose with a handkerchief, then looked at me. “Does Your Excellency have more questions?” She asked and let out a long sigh.

“Other than Nerissa, have you met with others from Hell?” I probed.

The woman shook her head.

“Did she mention Changelings?” I inquired.

“She did,” Rosalia replied, taking a shaky breath to calm down. “But I don't believe her words.”

I nodded in understanding. “Well, that'd be it,” I announced and turned to Hanna. “Let's go.”

The Ork nodded and opened the door of the carriage, then went out.

I followed, then turned to Rico and gestured for him to get out as well.

The guy scoffed, but obeyed. He stood in front of me with his chin raised.

I gave him a big smile and slapped him across the face.

His jaw cracked and he crashed on the carriage, then fell down and passed out.

“RICO!” Lord Punten screamed and got out of the carriage, then circled around it and knelt next to his son.

Rosalia yelped and followed her husband, sitting on the ground and placing her son's head on her lap.

“Don't call me a bitch,” I muttered and turned around. “I'll let the King know there's another Demon and that you're clear. The countries surrounding Lumin Kingdom will take measures to find your kind, and will inform me if any is misbehaving. If you meet one, tell them the Hellwalker is here...” I cringed at my following words. “And that she's hungry.”

Hanna nodded at my words with a big, proud smile.

“I will,” Rosalia replied. “And thank you for showing my son mercy.”

Lord Punten sniffled and cleared his throat. “Should we leave?” He asked.

“Nah,” I chuckled. “You can go back in. Tell your son to behave and not insult people if he can't back his words with the violence they carry.”

“We will,” the Demon agreed.

I sighed. “Have a great life, Rosalia,” I told her and walked away.

Hanna followed me in silence.

We entered the Palace and I turned to her. “What do you think?”

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Her brown eyes looked into mine and she sighed. “I have a lot of questions, Your Excellency. I hope Your Excellency doesn't mind me asking.”

I nodded. “Sure, but before that... uh... did I handle that good? As a Halve, I mean.”

“Yes...” she replied and looked away.

“But?” I chuckled.

“Your Excellency's usage of the word 'retarded' is uncalled for, and objectively wrong,” she pointed out with a little frown.

“Oh, I know,” I replied with a nod. “My intention is to insult and offend. He called me a bitch, after all.”

“I see,” she muttered.

We walked past a few Royal Guards and stopped before entering the hall where everyone was.

I looked around and clicked my tongue. “Let's find a quiet place first, I should explain a few things.”

Hanna nodded and followed.

-

I told Hanna about Hell, but not about Earth. Pokora still hasn't told others about it... plus, Hanna is smart so she'll pick up on it if she knows.

She took it surprisingly well. Some things clicked for her, like Halves being born powerful and most of the time an empty shell of ignorance.

“Maybe remembering is not exactly good,” were her words.

We left the room we were talking in and returned to the hall.

There, I approached Gordon and Josalia, who were chatting.

He noticed me and smiled. “How did things go?”

“Great,” I replied. “I'll tell you later, though.”

He raised his brows and chuckled. “Oh?”

“Do you think I could have a few minutes on the stage?” I asked him. “I'd like to play some music as a way to apologize for what happened earlier.”

“What happened, exactly?” He inquired. “If I'm allowed to ask, naturally.”

I nodded. “I'll tell you later,” I chuckled. “Don't worry. Nothing life-threatening.”

“That's a relief,” Josalia joined the chat. “I've never felt anything like that.”

I smiled. “Maybe you should clear a dungeon or two,” I joked.

“I am Queen, I cannot risk my life by clearing a dungeon,” she replied and chuckled. “But maybe a few monsters here and there would be good.”

I nodded. “So, the stage?”

“Will you play the piano?” Gordon asked with a spark in his eyes. “I heard Deacon Julien mellowed out after you visited the Performer School of the Arts. Quite the achievement, most people would say.”

My eyebrows went up in surprise. “Is that so?”

Both monarchs nodded.

“He has a reputation of being strict,” Josalia added. “Not to the point of it being a problem, but the man has a passion for tradition not often found in this Age.”

“Perhaps he needed to be reminded that the learning process never ends,” Gordon chuckled. “Tends to happen after being a teacher for so long.”

“Let's hope this rekindled the loving parts of his passion instead of intensifying the more strict ones,” Josalia sighed.

“He looked pretty humble to me after I played, though,” I pointed out.

Gordon smiled. “That's good to hear.”

Josalia nodded along with a smile.

I tilted my head. “Does that happen often?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Josalia replied. “When seeking the knowledge of the Gods, most people find themselves an extension of their legacy, forgetting to be a transformative part of it instead. It could be said Julien taught his students similarly to how His Divinity Saravia did his own. But that's not something that works in current times. As people change, so should the ways to teach them.”

“Something similar happened to me,” Gordon shared. “Before I did my pilgrimage, being a Merchant was all about the stability of the economy. Later, though, it became clear that people are more important than the coin changing hands. There's no economy without people. That is even more true when thinking of a country and being King. A King is nothing without the people and their acknowledgment.”

I nodded. “The consent of the governed gives purpose to the government, after all.”

Gordon's eyebrows knitted. “Naturally. What is government without the consent of the people if not tyranny?”

“Hmm.” I nodded a few times.

“And Your Excellency's kind gave justification of rule,” Josalia added. “Much like a God gives justification of teaching.”

I blinked twice. “What?”

Gordon chuckled. “A teacher is as important as a ruler, Your Excellency. A country cannot function if the populace is not taught. The... mess it would be... I can't even imagine.”

“Would it even work in the first place?” Josalia wondered.

What are we talking about now? I thought, a little confused. “With enough violence, it could,” I supplied. “A farmer doesn't teach their cattle.”

Both monarch's eyes widened.

“I hope Your Excellency knows this, but people aren't animals,” Josalia carefully pointed out, but her eyebrows twitched a few times. “And treating them as such is... preposterous.”

I chuckled. “I know. I was saying that a country can deal with an ignorant populace if it employs violence on every level of its organization. When people fear those in power, they don't exactly need to be taught for it to function.”

Both looked at me as if I grew a dick instead of a nose.

“That wouldn't work either,” Gordon sighed while shaking his head. “A country doesn't exist in a vacuum. Other countries would call the rulers out, or a Halve would remove the tyrant.”

“Well,” I sighed. “Then make every country the same and remove Halves.”

“That's not how the world works, fortunately,” Josalia sighed. “If there's a world where what Your Excellency mentions exists, then I pity it.”

“How would taxes work?” Gordon asked me.

“Violence,” I replied.

“But they would rebel,” Josalia argued.

“Not if every single person is level one, and they have no access to weapons,” I countered.

“Then that world is doomed,” Gordon muttered. “If people don't have the same knowledge level as rulers, then the only thing awaiting them is self-destruction.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed. “Anyway, can I have the stage for a bit?”

Hanna, who had been silent the whole time, let out a very interested hum.