No sooner had the words left her mouth than Warfarin flashed to the entrance, slammed the door shut, and vanished from Lucifer and Emmangarde’s sight.
Emmangarde blinked in utter bewilderment.
Had Warfarin’s physical burst of speed just now actually rivaled her own spatial cubes?
Were Sanguines really all this terrifying?!
To be fair, this was the first time Emmangarde had witnessed firsthand the combat-crazed nature of a Sanguine.
Even Warfarin, who wasn’t suited for combat at all, possessed physical specs far superior to her own.
So what kind of terrifying monster was Lucifer, a Sanguine Prince?
Gulp…
Emmangarde swallowed hard for some reason.
Thank goodness Lucifer hadn’t let his beastly side loose last night, or she really would’ve ended up stuffed like a cream puff, right?
“Stop daydreaming.
Do you want to stay behind and house-sit for me?”
“Oh…
right, coming.”
Snapped out of her daze by Lucifer’s call, Emmangarde hurriedly caught up with him.
On their way to the palace, Emmangarde became extremely cautious.
She weighed every single word in her head before speaking, terrified of setting Lucifer off and opening up some R-rated alternate timeline.
“Is this your first time attending a Royal Court meeting?”
Noticing her sudden, inexplicable nervousness, Lucifer struck up a conversation to distract her.
“Yes.
I’ve barely ever been to Kazdel, and I’ve rarely met any members of the Royal Court.”
As Fremont’s student, Emmangarde knew exactly how much weight the title of a Royal Court Lord carried.
A conference attended by multiple Court Lords and the Demon King themselves was something she hadn’t dared to even imagine.
But Lucifer saw things differently.
The Lich beside him was still too young.
Give her a few more decades of experience, and she’d realize that those so-called Lords of the Royal Court were just Sarkaz with fancy titles—nothing more than troublesome, disposable figureheads.
If the Sanguinarch ever decided to pass the lordship of the Sanguine Court down to Lucifer, Lucifer would pack up and flee Kazdel the very night before, changing his name and vanishing off the face of the earth.
Of course, even if the Sanguinarch didn’t force it on him, Lucifer would probably still choose to leave eventually.
The Sanguine and the Lich walked on in silence, entering the palace and passing through the watchful eyes of the guards.
As they rounded a corner, a Sarkaz clad in armor with black, upturned horns happened to cross their path.
“…Lucifer?”
“Theresis?
Since when…
did you start wearing eyeshadow?”
Theresis looked at Lucifer and Emmangarde with slight surprise before remembering that Theresa had mentioned they would be sitting in on the meeting.
“…I’m not wearing eyeshadow.”
“…So are those dark circles, or did someone punch you in the face?”
“…”
Theresis remained silent.
His personality just didn’t mesh well with Lucifer’s.
Besides, were his dark circles really that bad?
Lucifer found it odd too.
The last time he had seen Theresis was only a few years ago.
Back then, Theresis looked no different from how he did during the war—spirited and full of vigor, like a young man.
Yet less than a decade had passed, and Theresis already looked like a drained, exhausted wreck?
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think one of the Court Lords or Theresa had given him a couple of black eyes.
If it weren’t for the fact that Theresis was upright, dedicated, and working himself to the bone for Theresa, Kazdel, and their people, Lucifer would’ve assumed he’d found some girl outside who had sucked him dry.
“Let’s cut the chatter.
The meeting starts soon.
Lucifer, and…”
Theresis cut himself off, suddenly feeling a bit awkward as he glanced blankly at Emmangarde.
“Emmangarde.”
“…Right.
Emmangarde, emissary of the Liches.
Follow me.”
With that, Theresis turned and led Lucifer and Emmangarde toward the conference room.
Despite looking utterly drained, Theresis’s stride remained steady and powerful.
It was clear from his posture and aura that over a century of administrative work hadn’t made him soft or diminished his strength.
“Lucifer, who is that?
He looks a lot like Lady Theresa…” Emmangarde whispered.
Theresis and Theresa shared many similarities.
They had the same pink hair, the same black, upturned horns, and both possessed the qualifications to be recognized by the Civilight Garden.
To the point where outsiders who didn’t know their history couldn’t even tell if Theresis was the older brother or the younger brother.
“He’s Theresa’s younger brother, Theresis.”
“?”
Theresis turned his head to look at Lucifer, thoroughly baffled.
Fine.
Now he knew exactly who was spreading those rumors.
“Huh?
But I heard Lady Theresa only has an older brother?”
“The little brother grew up—just kidding.”
Lucifer stopped teasing, and Theresis looked back ahead.
Theresis didn’t consider himself particularly close to Lucifer, but that didn’t mean they had a bad relationship.
After all, they were comrades who had fought on the same battlefield.
And compared to the Sanguinarch’s sharp tongue and even sharper heart, Lucifer was incredibly easy to get along with.
He only knew that Lucifer seemed highly reluctant to get involved in the internal affairs of Kazdel and the Royal Courts.
Unless Theresa or the Sanguinarch gave a direct order, Lucifer would usually refuse.
This time, he had likely been dragged to the meeting by the Sanguinarch against his will.
…Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.
After passing through a few corridors, Theresis brought Lucifer and Emmangarde to the conference room—the War Council.
Though spacious, the room was exceptionally spartan, containing only a round table and a few chairs, with a few cups of tea set upon it.
Before Theresis and the others arrived, three Court Lords were already waiting inside.
“Ah, we meet again, Lucifer.
And the Lich’s emissary.”
As the most approachable of the Court Lords, Llamarein greeted them like a warm, welcoming older sister, gesturing for Lucifer and Emmangarde to sit.
In contrast, the Sanguinarch merely gave a disdainful snort before closing his eyes to rest.
As for the King of the Nachzehrer, Nietzre, he said nothing, standing as silent and motionless as a background NPC.
Having three major representatives of the Royal Courts gathered in one place was one of the few rare moments the Sarkaz could claim to be “united.”
“The Demon King will be here shortly.
Please wait a moment.”
Theresis also pulled up a chair and sat down, waiting for Theresa’s arrival.
The Sanguinarch and the Nachzehrer King remained quiet, but Llamarein pulled Emmangarde over to chat.
“My, are Liches these days really so young?
How is life over in Leithanien?”
“Uh…”
This was quite a departure from what Emmangarde had pictured.
A War Council representing the Royal Courts and the Demon King was supposed to be dead serious.
She was only there to listen and shouldn’t have been able to get a word in edgewise, but what was with this vibe of gossiping with relatives back home?!
“Hmm…
is Fremont very strict?
I recall he does have quite an eccentric temper?”
“Fierce!
That old geezer is so hard to please!”
The moment Fremont was mentioned, Emmangarde was instantly wide awake.
The young Lich girl’s chatterbox opened instantly, and she began whining to the much older Banshee about her miserable experiences being ordered around by Fremont.
This rapid face-change, comparable to a professional face-changing performer, caught even Llamarein off guard.
Perhaps because Emmangarde was getting a bit too loud, the Sanguinarch opened his eyes, clearly annoyed.
But as he listened to her trash-talking Fremont, a look of satisfaction crossed his face, and he closed his eyes again.
Seeing the Sanguinarch enjoying himself, the King of the Nachzehrer immediately decided to ruin his mood.
Leaning slightly toward Lucifer, Nietzre remarked in a voice just loud enough for everyone to hear:
“Lucifer, that red wine you mentioned last time, the one even Duq’arael recommended, was indeed excellent.
I’m surprised his taste is actually decent.
I figured his aesthetic sense had long since rotted and turned moldy, just like his ideas.”
“?”
Nietzre’s comment instantly triggered the Sanguinarch, causing the AFK Sanguine Lord to snap his crimson eyes open and glare at the King of the Nachzehrer.
“Nietzre, the God of War of the Sarkaz.
Has the passage of thousands of years finally rotted your brain into decay?”
“I believe my mind is perfectly clear.
On the contrary, some fellow who finds himself stuck awkwardly in the middle of the ranks seems to love throwing temper tantrums.
It is truly pitiful.”
Listening to the banter between the Nachzehrer King and the Sanguinarch, Lucifer silently nudged himself closer to Theresis.
All he could say was that Nietzre’s seniority as the oldest Sarkaz next to the Damazti Cluster was the real deal.
The sheer hostility, holy moly.
“I was merely chatting with the youth, Duq’arael.
Why are you so defensive?”
“Defensive?
I consider myself a rather patient person.
This is simply the stereotype associated with Sanguines.
Unless you too are succumbing to that brand of Sarkaz discrimination?”
“No.
I am simply discriminating against you.”
The clash between the Nachzehrer King and the Sanguinarch brought Llamarein and Emmangarde’s conversation to a halt.
Fortunately, no matter how heated their verbal sparring became, neither of them had any intention of taking the fight physical.
Perhaps the Sanguinarch also knew that if they actually started fighting, Llamarein and Theresis would definitely side with the Nachzehrer King.
Emmangarde aside, as for Lucifer…
He would probably grab Emmangarde and book it out of there at the speed of light.
“Let’s wrap up the chatter.
The Demon King is here.”
Seeing that the Sanguinarch and the Nachzehrer King were about to enter Phase Two, Theresis cleared his throat to interrupt them.
Just as his voice fell, the door of the conference room was pushed open once more.
Theresa finally arrived at this bloodless battlefield.
“Sorry, I overslept a bit during my nap.
It seems everyone is having a lively conversation?”
“…”
Classic Theresa.
Her very first words almost made Theresis, her older brother, break character.