In the Kingdom of Gwarga, everything had changed almost overnight. The once beloved prince and his noble father, Lórien and Lysander, now wore the label of "traitors," accused of joining forces with the demon king. The entire kingdom was thrown into shock, as if the very ground beneath them had shifted.
People across Gwarga struggled to accept the news, hoping it was some terrible, twisted rumor or a nightmare they'd soon wake from. So many had looked up to Lórien and Lysander, especially Lórien, whose kindness and courage had been a light for so many.
But, as with all things, they weren't without enemies. Some people had always despised the royal family, resenting their power or perhaps envying their influence. Those voices rose now, laughing in taverns and celebrating what they saw as the "fall" of their rivals. Drinks were poured, toasts made, and a strange, bitter joy spread among this small group.
Yet, they were still a minority; the heartbreak across the kingdom was far greater than the celebrations. In fact, Gwarga's economy had started to decline, dropping by 3% in mere days, as merchants, farmers, and citizens alike felt the weight of uncertainty and despair.
Just as people were beginning to catch their breath from the first shock, another wave of news swept over the kingdom, striking harder than the last. The royal family was to be publicly executed—Lórien, Lysander, and their entire family would be brought before the people and put to death. The announcement was clear, cold, and final.
When the day of the execution finally arrived, crowds gathered near the royal palace, filling the square and spilling into the streets. A massive stage had been constructed just outside the palace gates, looming over the people like a dark reminder of their impending loss. Faces in the crowd were somber, pale, and full of grief. Many of them shouted in desperation, clinging to hope even in the face of the inevitable.
One man, with a rugged face and a deep, booming voice, shouted, "Prince Lórien would never do something like this! I know him—I have faith in him! He's been accused unfairly!" His hands shook, holding a tattered hat close to his chest, his eyes full of disbelief and sorrow.
"Exactly! He once saved my family—he's innocent!" cried a woman nearby, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her young child close, trying to shield them from the cruel scene unfolding.
Voices rose one after another, each echoing stories of Lórien's kindness and loyalty.
"He even forgave my family's debts!" yelled a farmer, his rough hands clenched in fists. "Who else would do something so generous? No one can match his heart!"
The crowd's voices blended together, filling the square with a rising tide of grief and rage. Their loyalty to Lórien wasn't born from his royal status, nor from his wealth. They adored him because he had always been there for them, treating each citizen with respect and compassion. He had listened to their struggles, helped them through hard times, and shown kindness where others might have dismissed them. He was their prince not because of his title, but because of his actions, his goodness.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the silent crowd, and everyone fell still, their attention captured in an instant. Stepping forward was a woman of breathtaking beauty, her presence enough to steal the breath from those who looked at her. She had long, mesmerizing purple hair that seemed to shimmer under the sunlight, and her skin was smooth and flawless, like polished jade. Covering her eyes was a purple blindfold, but it only added to the mystery and allure of her appearance, hinting at her hidden power. Two long, elegant horns curved from her forehead.
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It was unmistakable—she was Scarlett Nova.
Gasps filled the air as many in the crowd looked on, awestruck. "A goddess…" someone whispered in disbelief. Many could hardly close their mouths, staring as if they had seen a vision.
Every step Scarlett took was smooth and graceful, each movement captivating the crowd. Her presence was enchanting, drawing eyes and admiration in a way that even a succubus, known for their allure, could never achieve. It was as though she had cast a spell over the entire square, making everyone feel as if they were seeing something beyond this world.
Behind her, more figures emerged, each one equally striking. One man had wavy silver hair and horns that rose sharply from his forehead. —this was Li Feng. Beside him walked a tall woman whose lips, Eyebrows, hair and eyes were a vivid, neon green, radiating a powerful aura. This was Reiza Nova, her gaze intense and piercing as she surveyed the crowd.
Then came the prisoners, flanked by soldiers in dark armor. In the center of this solemn group were Lórien, Lysander, and Lórien's mother, Luna. Though Luna's golden hair had streaks of gray, her beauty still shone through, a quiet strength in her face as she walked with her family. Heavy shackles bound their wrists, clinking with each step they took. The crowd's sorrow grew at the sight, watching their once-beloved royals reduced to prisoners.
At the very end of the procession was a woman with long, jet-black hair that seemed to absorb the light around her, making her presence feel like a shadow stretching into the crowd. Her horns were just as prominent as Scarlett's, marking her with the same power, yet there was something unsettling about her beauty. Her figure was flawless, her curves seductive, and every glance she cast toward the crowd left a strange, almost uncomfortable attraction that lingered, She was not doing this on purpose but it was in her blood.
This was Lunatic, the succubus queen. Unlike the others, her expression held no trace of solemnity. Instead, she wore a twisted smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement. It was clear she was mocking them, taking pleasure in the horror and despair that spread through the crowd.
Lysander and Luna looked barely awake, their heads hanging down, as if they might slump to the ground at any moment. They were tied to large, cross-shaped wooden posts, the binds holding them upright despite their weakened state. Meanwhile, Lórien was forced to his knees, his hands shackled to a thick iron rod set into the ground. The rod had been reinforced with magic, knowing that ordinary metal alone couldn't restrain him. Yet, even bound and kneeling, his face showed no fear—only a calm, steady defiance.
Scarlett Nova, with commanding presence and fierce beauty, stepped forward. Her voice rang out over the crowd, arrogant and filled with authority. "You already know me," she began, her tone filled with a sense of power. "I am Scarlett Nova, a dragonoid and the one who saved this kingdom from these traitors, these servants of the demon king!"
The crowd shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other but saying nothing. They had indeed heard of Scarlett Nova and her new race, the dragonoids. Rumors about her had been circulating, but seeing her here in person left them speechless, uncertain of what to believe.
A cold smile spread across Scarlett's lips as she addressed them again. "How about we make this interesting?" she proposed, her voice chillingly casual. "Each one of you will receive a piece of paper, and on it, you can write down the cruelest ways to end the lives of this king and queen duo." She gestured to Lysander and Luna, her smile unchanging. "The most creative and brutal idea will be chosen, and we'll carry it out right here in front of everyone!"
Scarlett's expression remained disturbingly innocent, as if she had no guilt at all about what she was suggesting. Her smile was soft, her face relaxed—completely unfazed by the horror her words brought to the crowd.
But then, something unexpected happened. A man in the crowd raised his voice, shouting, "There's no way we're going along with this! We're loyal to our king!"
"Yeah! We stand with Prince Lórien!" echoed another, followed by more voices. Cheers of support for Lórien rippled through the gathering.
Lórien's face broke into a proud grin. Looking at Scarlett with defiance, he called out, "See that? My people are with me!" His voice was strong, filled with pride and confidence.
Scarlett raised an eyebrow, her smile unfazed. "Is that so?" She snapped her fingers, and in moments, a group of knights appeared, dragging someone forward—a beautiful woman with green hair, dressed in an elegant royal gown. Her blue eyes were filled with fear, but she held her head high. The crowd gasped, recognizing her immediately: it was Cassie, Lórien's wife.
Scarlett walked up to Cassie and placed a hand on her shoulder, her smile turning even more twisted. She looked back at the crowd with a mocking smirk. "Look at her," she taunted. "Isn't she exquisite? Graceful, elegant, with a body fit for royalty." Scarlett's eyes inside the blindfold gleamed with malicious delight as she reached up and grabbed Cassie's chin, tilting her face up so everyone could see. "Take a good look!" she sneered.
Cassie bit her lip in frustration, but she said nothing, her eyes blazing with silent defiance.
Scarlett turned back to the crowd, her voice dripping with dark amusement. "Let me change the rules a bit," she said, her tone sly. "For whoever submits the cruelest idea, if your suggestion is chosen, you'll get more than just the satisfaction of seeing it done." She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing, "You'll get to spend three days and three nights with this royal beauty herself!"