Perspective: Celia
Location: Commercial District — Syndicate Headquarters
Time:11:00 AM — February 3, 2018
The black-lacquered fountain pen tapped in steady, rhythmic clicks against the parchment ledger on my desk.
I leaned back into the velvet chair, scanning the final accounting column with an arched eyebrow.
663 gold coins.
Over 3 days of operating.
Bella had been working our subterranean processing pipelines around the clock. Every single carcass Lucas and Levi had teleported through the relays had been disassembled, categorized, and funneled into the market before Requiem's procurement officers even realized where the supply was coming from. High-grade resources dried up in the market.
Bella was paying her keep down to the last copper.
And the best part? All 15 demon division officers were inspired, working synchronized shifts, and following my instructions without a single complaint.
The Mafia was thriving.
Word had already spread like wildfire through the taverns of the Lower District. Independent adventurers and underpaid Requiem freelancers had been loitering outside our front lobby all morning, whispering among themselves, asking Ronan if recruitment was open yet.
I hadn't opened admissions during the 1st 2 days. But today was the day.
My plan is simple.
I'll hire the adventurers, pay them 3 times what Requiem pays for basic commissions, and keep 100% of the monster salvage rights for the Mafia.
Requiem threw away or undervalued anomalous beast parts because their human alchemists lacked the refining technology. But with the Nether Realm processing networks backed by Lucifer and the Demon Covenant, we can recycle every scrap of bone and marrow for 10 times its market value.
A firm knock sounded against the oak door.
Varkas stepped inside, his dark leather coat pristine, his fist pressed over his heart in a crisp salute.
"Mistress Celia. There is a visitor in the lobby requesting your presence."
I didn't lift my gaze from the profit margins.
"Who is it? I don't have the time to meet just anyone."
"It is Sylvia Somerest."
My pen paused.
A slow, dangerous smirk curled across my lips.
Sylvia.
The great Commander of Requiem finally noticed her guild's pockets are bleeding.
I set the pen down into its brass holder, smoothed the crimson ruffles of my coat, and rose to my feet. The sharp click of my red heels announced my presence as I strode through the arched corridor into the front reception hall.
Sylvia Somerest stood in the center of the lobby, flanked by 2 heavily armored city guards with silver halberds.
She looked immaculate as always—her long silver hair tied in a sharp high-ponytail, her tailored commander's overcoat draped over her shoulders, her luminous silver eyes narrowed into calculating slits. But behind that polished noble poise, her jaw was tight.
I spread my arms wide, palms open, offering her a sweet, radiant smile.
"Heyyy, Sylvia. What brings you here to my humble syndicate?"
Sylvia's silver gaze raked over me, from my loose white hair. Her lips thinned into a razor-sharp line.
"Humble syndicate?" Sylvia's voice was cold. "I didn't know your humble syndicate participates in stealing quests from other guilds and breaking the law in my town."
"Sylvia, this is a town of living people, not yours," I replied cleanly, walking down the 3 marble steps to meet her eye-to-eye. "Considering how monopolistic Requiem has been for the past few years, it's only natural for me to give the people what they actually deserve."
Sylvia took half a step forward, her commanding presence flaring.
"I demand this operation cease immediately. Why are you doing this in the 1st place, Celia? What is the point of this reckless stunt?"
"I'm doing this because I want to," I said, not flinching for a millimeter. "And because it has to be this way. Your people and you have done far enough taking all the resources, pocketing 20% broker cuts, and treating your own members like disposable tools."
The 2 city guards shifted their grip on their halberds, but Ronan glared at them from behind the mahogany reception desk with eyes burning like molten magma. The guards immediately froze, sweat beading along their visors.
Sylvia clicked her tongue, gesturing sharply toward the polished foyer.
"Let us talk about the law, Celia. The Requiem Guild is formally recognized by the Celestial Kingdom. It is backed up by the city's legal system, all the nobles, territorial landlords, and thousands of licensed adventurers who depend on our boards for their livelihood. You are running an unlicensed mercenary operation within the city itself. Under municipal law, that permits me to seize all assets obtained through unlicensed commercial activity—including everything you have stolen from my boards for the past 3 days."
I smiled brighter.
"Prove it."
I snapped my fingers once.
"Varkas. Explain it to her."
Varkas stepped forward from my right flank. He adjusted his silk tie with calm precision, smoothing down his dark lapels, before offering Sylvia a polite, mocking bow.
"With all due respect, Guildmaster Somerest, I must ask you to address our Mistress with appropriate reverence," Varkas said, his deep baritone echoing smoothly through the lobby as he unfurled a leather-bound folio.
"Now, let us examine the legal framework. The Requiem Guild possesses exclusive rights over the locality of Sylvaris and its adjacent territories. You hold the legal privileges of political authorities: the town's governors, ecclesiastic rulers, noble overlords, and territorial landlords. Every merchant enjoys guilds, while your adventurers and guild members enjoy statutory privileges enshrined in local statutes."
Varkas looked up from his parchment, his expression cool and completely unbothered.
"Those statutes grant your members exclusive rights to quests and trade, the sole right to decide who can become a guild member, and the absolute authority to regulate commercial activities like quest negotiation and fundamental development. Together, you possess the legal privilege of a monopolist, while your guild members act as an organized cartel extracting wealth from the public."
Sylvia's silver eyes flared with anger as she glared at him.
"And what is your point?"
I cleared my throat with a soft, polite cough, pulling all attention back to me.
"The point, Sylvia, is that the Mafia itself isn't a registered adventurer guild under municipal law. We are formally registered as an autonomous trade syndicate under demon law."
Sylvia blinked, her brows twitching with genuine shock. She cast a swift, sharp glance around the lobby, noticing the glowing demonic runes, the dark banners, and the Demon Covenant seals carved into the foundation stones.
"Under the ancient Celestial-Demon treaties," I continued smoothly, circling her with measured steps, "the city charter's human commercial codes have zero jurisdiction over demon sovereignty. Your legal framework does not apply to the Demon Sovereign. You have no authority to touch a single coin in this building."
Sylvia stood silent for 2 beats, visibly absorbing the jurisdictional wall I had dropped in front of her. Her jaw clenched tight.
Then she shifted tactics like the veteran merchant she was.
"Fine. Let us set aside municipal jurisdiction for now," Sylvia said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Let us talk about the adventurers themselves. If Requiem members start losing money, if their work and their lives are put at stake because your crew is poaching every high-tier contract, they will pressure the guild board to retaliate. And I can organize a continental boycott in 24 hours. Any adventurer caught doing business with your faction will be permanently blacklisted across all guilds in Celestine. No board access, no dungeon clearances, no legal protection anywhere on this continent."
A classic cartel enforcement mechanism.
Punish defectors to protect the monopoly's profit margins.
I felt a smirk tugging at my lips.
Did she think that would scare me?
Back when I was little, I was a bookworm studying and devouring economics grimoires by candlelight, I read dozens of treatises on guild monopolies and price-fixing cartels. I know how cartels collapse.
I don't need Varkas to step in and speak for me.
I can handle this myself.
Besides, my demonic army is already working synchronized shifts across the outskirts, clearing every high-value monster nest in the region. Requiem isn't going to earn a single coin today either.
I took 2 steps toward Sylvia, looking straight into her silver eyes with an icy, calm smile.
"You're welcome to try that boycott, Sylvia. But I should warn you: I own this city's economics now."
Sylvia's gaze hardened.
"Every raw monster material, every medicinal herb, every alchemical reagent, every food supply, and every merchant caravan flowing through Sylvaris's central market shall pass through Mafia verification," I said, my voice dropping to a smooth, unyielding cadence.
"If the city tries to seize my assets or blacklist my affiliates, the price of even 1 grain will 4X by sunset. The cost of every medicine and potion will triple overnight. Blacksmithing metals and beast hides will vanish from your stalls."
I tilted my head, letting my red eyes gleam in the candlelight.
"So maybe you should go talk to your noble overlords and the town governor on the guild board. Ask them how they feel about explaining to 50,000 citizens why the price of bread jumped 4 times because their Guildmaster picked a fight over 56 contracts."
Sylvia's face paled.
The color drained from her cheeks as she looked around the grand lobby. She saw the disciplined demon sentries, the humming enchantments, and the complete infrastructure we had erected in just 2 days. It had taken her months of aristocratic lobbying to establish Requiem's guildhall.
I had built an operational powerhouse in 48 hours.
She realized instantly: I was not making empty threats. I had the absolute power to follow through.
In any negotiation, the party with the strongest BATNA holds the board.
Sylvia is a calculating merchant. She knows when an open conflict will bleed her dry. Even if she can't win the legal battle or the economic war right now, her instincts will push her toward a settlement.
It's best if I offer what is already running through her mind.
"Let us be sensible, Sylvia," I said, walking slowly toward the center of the hall.
"I am willing to offer you a joint arrangement."
Sylvia exhaled a slow, controlled breath, forcing her noble composure back into place.
"What kind of arrangement?"
"A joint operational pact," I proposed cleanly.
"The Requiem Guild will scout and gather the contracts from the Celestial Kingdom, the nobility, and the local merchants. The Mafia will take 70% of those subjugation quests and execute them with our demonic forces. For every contract we clear, we will provide Requiem with a 5% finder's fee."
Sylvia's silver eyes narrowed to razor points.
"And the remaining 30%?"
"Your guild members can keep the remaining 30% of low-tier and domestic quests," I replied.
"The commission earnings from those are solely theirs. But all monster corpses, cores, skins, and salvage rights from every single quest belong exclusively to the Mafia."
Sylvia stared at me for 3 quiet seconds. Then, a sharp, bitter scoff left her throat.
"That is completely unfair, Celia. And you know it."
Sylvia held up her hand, ticking off 4 points with icy precision:
"1. A 5% finder's fee doesn't even cover the administrative cost of processing, logging, and dispatching those bounties. 2. Stripping 70% of high-tier quests leaves my veteran rank-and-file adventurers starving for work and collapses my frontline roster. 3. Seizing 100% of monster salvage destroys every independent alchemist, tanner, and blacksmith in Sylvaris who relies on Requiem's open materials market to craft their wares."
"And 4: you are collaborating in capturing a massive slice of the economic pie and distributing it to yourself at the direct expense of the rest of the people living in Sylvaris."
I leaned against the mahogany stair railing, thoroughly unimpressed.
"You do the exact same thing with your own guild, Sylvia."
Sylvia's brow twitched.
"I run a legitimate public service."
"You own the guild taverns, you own the weapon repair shops, and you own the apothecaries in the commercial district," I countered cleanly, dismantling her facade without raising my voice.
"The gold your adventurers earn on quests flows straight back into your own guild accounts before the night is over. You preach about public welfare, but you run a closed-loop economic trap. We both can play these games, Sylvia. And right now, you have zero leverage."
Before Sylvia could formulate a response, the ambient temperature in the lobby plummeted.
A suffocating, primeval weight descended upon the room like a collapsing sky. The golden candlelight turned an eerie, abyssal violet, and the shadows along the back wall detached themselves, rising into the towering, 195 cm silhouette of Lucifer.
"What is the commotion about, Celia?" Lucifer asked, his deep baritone vibrating through the marble floor with casual, effortless supremacy.
The 2 city guards gasped for breath, their knees giving out as their armor clattered violently against the tiles. They lay trembling, crushed beneath the aura of an Ascended Demon Sovereign.
Sylvia flinched.
Her boots slid back 2 inches across the marble, her hand darting instinctively into her coat pocket toward her concealed weapon. Her silver eyes dilated in sheer shock.
The Demon Lord himself is standing here.
I glanced back over my shoulder, keeping my tone light.
"This girl is trying to argue and fight us, Lucifer."
Lucifer's glowing crimson gaze settled upon Sylvia, pinning her to the floorboards.
"This syndicate sits upon sovereign demon soil, Guildmaster," Lucifer said, his tone icy and detached.
"Any attempt by authorities to interfere with my mistress's domain will be answered with sovereign force. There will be consequences if you try anything foolish."
Sylvia swallowed hard, forcing her posture upright despite the cold sweat prickling her neck. She looked past Lucifer, fixing her gaze squarely on me.
"I thought we had a good relationship, Celia," Sylvia said, her voice dropping into a quieter, more personal register.
"I welcomed you into this city. I gave you, Lucas, and Kaiser the exploration permits and travel papers when you were strangers."
My chest tightened faintly at the mention of Kaiser.
I smothered the reaction instantly, meeting her gaze with unflinching calm.
"You were kind to me, Lucas, and him, Sylvia. That is true. Giving us permits and offering us passage to other towns was helpful. But you've also been using us to clear your hardest quests while taking the lion's share of the prestige and profit. I have a better alternative than you now. So thanks for all the hard work, Sylvia."
"It's greatly appreciated."
I took a slow step forward, looking down from the 1st step.
"You have no leverage left. So either yield and accept the terms, or watch as your precious guild sinks down."
Sylvia stood motionless in the center of the grand hall.
The silence stretched for seconds. The demon guards watched with bated breath.
Lucifer loomed beside me.
Then, Sylvia's shoulders began to shake.
A quiet sound slipped past her throat.
"Hahaha..."
Her head tilted back, and the quiet chuckle broke into a ringing, unhinged laugh that bounced off the vaulted ceiling.
"Hahaha, hahaha, hahaha!"
I frowned, folding my arms across my chest.
What on earth is she finding funny?
She's cornered on every legal and economic front, and she's laughing like she just heard a joke?
Sylvia slowly lowered her head, wiping a tear of genuine amusement from her eye. The apprehension on her face was completely gone, replaced by a cool, piercing clarity.
"I've seen Lucas, Levi, and the others roaming around here, Celia," Sylvia said, her voice smooth and devoid of fear. "They are pretty aware of your actions. But tell me something... is he aware of you? And did he permit you to wage this war?"
My fingers curled into tight fists beneath my coat sleeves.
"I don't need anyone's permission to do what I want."
Sylvia smiled.
This time, she took a deliberate step forward—closer to me, and closer to Lucifer. She had flinched in terror when the Demon Sovereign 1st materialized, but now, standing directly beneath his suffocating aura, she looked at both of us with a calm, amused expression.
"Then it proves my point," Sylvia said, her silver eyes glinting with triumphant certainty.
"He's not aware of this."
I narrowed my eyes.
"And what does that change?"
"It changes everything," Sylvia replied, her voice ringing clear and steady.
"As long as he isn't involved, you can play your syndicate games however you want. With the Sovereign of the Demon Continent supporting you, you've gotten quite the neck and confidence to go against the guild system itself. You think you've conquered Sylvaris because you took over our contracts."
Varkas's hand dropped to his curved scabbard, his jaw hardening.
"What are you threatening us with, Guildmaster?"
Bella stepped forward from the corridor archway, her emerald eyes glowing with feral mana.
"If you're asking for an open war, we won't hold back."
Sylvia didn't even look at Bella or Varkas. Her gaze remained locked on my face.
"I don't need an open war," Sylvia said calmly.
"I don't need to sacrifice a single member of my guild. He alone will be more than enough."
I let out a cold, derisive scoff.
"And who would that be?"
Sylvia's lips curved into a sharp, venomous smirk.
"I have a particular favor owed by someone in particular. And once its said, Lady Celia... you will be the person who has to yield."
Lucifer's eyes darkened to pitch black.
A sudden, violent wave of sovereign killing intent detonated from his frame. The marble floorboards beneath his boots shattered into spiderwebs of jagged cracks with a thunderous CRACK. The atmospheric pressure spiked so severely that the 2 city guards cried out, clutching their ears as blood dripped from their noses.
Sylvia's left hand began to tremble uncontrollably under the crushing demonic gravity.
She reached across with her right hand, clamping her slender fingers tightly around her left wrist, physically forcing the tremors to stop. She did not fall. She did not lower her head.
"Intimidate me all you want today, Demon Lord," Sylvia said, her voice strained but unbroken.
"I refuse your offer. And this isn't over."
Sylvia turned on her heel, her heavy white commander's coat swirling behind her.
"Guards. Get up. We're leaving."
The 2 guards scrambled frantically off the cracked marble, halberds clattering, and stumbled out through the front doors behind their Guildmaster. The heavy double doors slammed shut with a dull, resonant thud.
The lobby fell dead silent.
I stood on the marble steps for 2 long seconds, watching the closed doors, the blood rushing hot against my temples.
Then I clapped my hands together twice, the sharp sound echoing through the foyer.
"Don't bother staring," I announced cleanly, turning toward my staff. "Get back to work, everyone. We still have a lot to do today. Bella, open recruitment immediately. Varkas, monitor the market stalls."
"Understood, Mistress Celia," the officers chorused, bowing low before dispersing back to their stations.
I turned and walked back toward my private office.
Lucifer followed silently, his heavy footfalls trailing behind me. As the office door clicked shut, he walked over to my desk and leaned against the edge, his crimson eyes studying my face.
"Do you know who that person was she was talking about?" Lucifer asked, his tone unusually serious.
I walked behind my desk and pulled out my velvet chair, sitting down with an indifferent shrug.
"It's unimportant. Just some loser who can't even show their face while fighting."
Lucifer folded his arms over his chest, his brow furrowing slightly.
"She was remarkably confident, even speaking directly in front of me. For a mortal, she possesses quite the faith in that person to threaten us so openly."
Immense faith?
True. But her faith is completely delusional.
I picked up my fountain pen, looking down at the parchment ledger.
Sylvia really thinks that Kaiser is enough to go against me?
She overestimates him so much it's pathetic. I don't care about Kaiser Everhart at all.
I'll need to start maintaining my own Mafia and ensuring total economic and power control over this continent. That's all that matters.
I used to tremble whenever he got angry. I used to measure my entire worth by whether he praised me or looked my way. Fuck that.
I am not scared of him now.
I hate that he keeps on being brought up in my head and by the people around me. Those who know him truly hold him in high regard, treating him like some untouchable, omniscient mastermind who pulls the strings of the entire world. But I don't anymore.
Let Sylvia call in her favor.
Let him try to interfere.
I have my own army now. I have my own treasury, my own demons, and my own sovereignty. If Kaiser Everhart steps onto my realm... I'll crush him too.
Lucifer remained leaning against the edge of my desk, folding his arms across his broad chest as he watched me. A slow, amused smile curled along the corner of his lips.
"You're remarkably quiet when you're thinking about crossing lines, Celia."
Quiet?
I've crossed plenty of lines in my life. It's not my 1st, and it certainly won't be my last.
I leaned my chin on my palm, twirling my fountain pen between my fingers. Looking at the ledgers, most of the raw materials and monster salvage were funneled directly through Bella. I had a sharp grasp on the high-level margins, but the exact conversion rates and refining costs in the Nether Realm were still locked inside Bella's ledgers.
If we wanted total independence, I'd need to construct my own refinement plants and factories right here in Sylvaris eventually.
I looked up from the documents, meeting his amused crimson gaze.
"Can you tell me how Bella is actually liquidating all those beast parts into pure gold so quickly?"
Lucifer didn't answer right away. He simply leaned forward, his glowing crimson eyes locking onto mine with an unhurried, intoxicating warmth.
"How about we stop thinking for a little while?"
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Don't look at me like that."
"And how should I look at you?" Lucifer tilted his head, his smile deepening. "There is zero chance I will voluntarily stop."
I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out an exasperated sigh.
"Now you're just being stupid."
"Then stop making it so tempting," Lucifer murmured, his deep baritone dripping with effortless charm.
"Look at this. This discussion is going nowhere. You're wasting precious time."
"With you?"
"Happily," he replied without even 1 moment of hesitation.
What on earth am I even supposed to say to that?
Literally everything that comes out of his mouth is flirting.
I pressed my palm against my forehead, dragging it down my face before fixing him with a stern, no-nonsense glare.
"Okay, Lucifer. On a serious note. Answer the question."
Lucifer chuckled softly, finally relenting as he straightened his posture.
"The majority of the raw monster corpses and uncut cores are teleported directly to the Nether Continent through our spatial relays. That is where our heavy refinement infrastructure is located. Tens of thousands of demon laborers in refineries process the hides, extract the alchemical venom, and smelt the mana marrow into industrial reagents."
I tapped the pen against my desk, connecting the economic dots in an instant.
"So that's how it works," I said, arching an eyebrow. "Isn't that how your nation is generating currency and creating thousands of jobs off my harvested materials?"
Lucifer smiled openly, completely unashamed.
"Yes. And you are receiving the refined gold liquidation completely for free."
"Free is an absolute stretch," I countered instantly, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Your population receives raw production inputs, develops trade, and accumulates capital by refining those materials themselves. They sell the finished goods across the Nether Continent, which increases your domestic wealth, stimulates population growth, and expands your civilization's tax base. The economic loop repeats, and your nation grows richer while I only receive the baseline gold conversion. So tell me honestly: how much profit are you skimming off the top?"
Lucifer's red eyes widened in genuine admiration. He placed a hand over his heart, shaking his head with a low whistle.
"Oh, wow, Celia. Even in the field of macroeconomics, you refuse to lag behind."
"I've always had a knack for knowledge," I said cleanly, lifting my chin. "I just recently realized how much I was holding myself back before. Now it doesn't matter. What's the split?"
Lucifer held up his hand, his expression turning calm and candid.
"Exactly 45%."
We stared at each other for 2 quiet seconds.
"You're taking 45% of the total revenue?"
"I take 45% to pay the wages of the refinery workers, cover spatial relay upkeep, and reinvest into our domestic processing plants," Lucifer clarified smoothly.
"You keep 55% of the pure gold yield without spending 1 copper on operational infrastructure."
I stood up from my chair, planting both hands flat on the desk.
"You're getting far more systemic value than 45%. You're gaining industrial capacity, specialized labor, and domestic supply chains. I could build my own factories and processing plants in Sylvaris within 6 months and keep 100% of the value."
Lucifer pouted slightly, giving me a playfully wounded expression.
"You wouldn't do that, Celia. That would be remarkably cruel to me."
Is this man for real?
He's an Ascended Demon Lord who commands legions of nightmare beasts, and he's pouting like a kicked puppy because I called out his profit margins.
I slumped back into my velvet seat, shaking my head with a dry smirk.
"You never looked like the type who cared about common citizens, considering you're a Demon Lord ruling over millions."
"Why?" Lucifer's voice dropped, the teasing edge softening into something quieter. "Does having horns make me less of a person?"
I paused, caught slightly off guard by the question.
Lucifer leaned back against the bookshelf, his gaze drifting toward the heavy velvet curtains.
"The Nether Continent is bleeding, Celia. Unemployment has skyrocketed over the past 3 decades. Our old mining shafts are collapsing, our trade routes with the human kingdoms have been blockaded by religious zealots, and our working-class families are starving in the outer provinces. The infrastructure I inherited is crumbling."
He looked back at me, his crimson eyes holding a steady, solemn weight.
"Your monster supply gives my people steady work. It keeps the smelters burning and puts food on thousands of tables every evening. Our arrangement doesn't just profit you—it keeps my continent alive."
I sat in silence, the snarky retort dying on my tongue.
He really is using me.
Just like I used his royal authority and demon guards to build this Mafia overnight, he's using my supply chain to feed his people.
He's leveraging my raw materials, processing them into high-value exports, selling the finished products in his own markets, and returning liquid gold to my desk. We're enriching each other.
But integrating demon labor into human markets like this... it's too elaborate. What is his actual motive? It can't just be routine economic relief. Even for a sovereign, nobody goes to this much trouble just for standard trade.
I looked at him, letting out a soft sigh.
"You shower me with compliments for building this syndicate, yet I think you're the 1 worthy of praise for taking advantage of me like this."
"I didn't take advantage of you," Lucifer said softly, pushing off the bookshelf and stepping toward my desk.
"I am doing this for both of us."
"Oh? How so?"
"You possess immense ambition, extraordinary competence, and the potential to reshape this world," Lucifer said, looking down at me with quiet certainty.
"To realize that potential, you needed initial capital, muscle, and logistics. I provided the foundation. If that foundation happens to feed my people at the same time, why should either of us stop?"
He's right.
A 55% profit margin with zero operational overhead is an incredible deal. It would take me months of fighting and millions of coins to build refineries of that scale from scratch.
And knowing that it's feeding families instead of lining a noble's pocket... it's not a bad thing.
I cleared my throat, glancing down at the ledger before offering him a small, genuine nod.
"Fine. Thank you for doing it."
Lucifer's face lit up with an exaggerated grin.
"Oh? Genuine gratitude from Lady Celia? Careful now—the sun might fall out of the sky and drown in the ocean today."
This man is insufferable.
I rolled my eyes, leaning back into my chair.
"Honestly, Lucifer. Why are you pushing this so far? Why do you care so much about integrating human and demon economics? Is there another motive behind all of this?"
Lucifer's smile faded.
He lowered his hand from his chin, his playful demeanor vanishing like mist under the morning sun. He walked slowly around the mahogany desk, stopping beside the high arched window that overlooked the bustling streets of Sylvaris.
"I want to build a world where demons, humans, elves, and beastkin can live together without slaughtering each other."
The air in the office went completely still.
My breath caught in my throat. I stared at his broad back, entirely unprepared for that sentence.
What did he just say?
A unified world?
"Don't demons view all other races as inferior garbage?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief.
"Yes. We do," Lucifer replied without hesitation, his reflection gleaming in the glass.
"We are arrogant, prideful, violent creatures. We look down on humans as frail, elves as aloof, and beastkin as feral."
"Then why on earth would you want a world where they coexist?"
Lucifer turned around, leaning his hip against the windowsill.
"Because difference in faith, blood, or appearance does not mean we are fundamentally incompatible. I want to build a society where our diversity leads to economic cooperation instead of endless war. Look at how this world is governed today. Political power is strictly allocated along racial lines—human kingdoms, elven forests, demon realms. Every border is an ethnic fortress designed to reinforce hatred and fear."
He stepped toward my desk, his eyes burning with an intense, visionary fire.
"Civic nationalism offers a better path. A society where citizenship and legal rights are based on shared laws, shared commerce, and mutual survival—not the color of your mana or the shape of your ears."
If the entire continent operated under shared, non-racial laws...
Then the borders that bred centuries of bloodshed would become completely meaningless.
"Humans remember demon invasions," Lucifer continued, his voice dropping into a somber cadence.
"Demons remember human crusades and purges. Elves and beastkin bear the scars of enslavement. Those generational wounds do not heal overnight. But imagine a future where demon craftsmen have access to elven enchantments and human commercial markets. Imagine human scholars studying ancient Nether magic without fear of execution. Economic codependence creates peace faster than any treaty ever could."
"That is my goal, Celia. A unified realm where peace does not require genocide."
I listened to him speak, my heart beating in strange, rapid pulses.
It was a magnificent vision. It sounded noble, inspiring, and impossibly grand.
Then I leaned back in my chair and clapped my hands together in slow, mocking applause.
"That's truly touching, Lucifer. Beautiful speech. But I still don't believe a word of it."
Lucifer paused, raising an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?"
I cannot afford to be naive.
Men do not bleed for grand ideals just because they sound pretty in a book. Nobody fights the entire world for abstract charity—especially not a Demon Sovereign.
If Kaiser can use me and toying with my feelings for his own benefits, so can Lucifer.
I must always be cautious.
I stood up, stepping around my desk to face him directly.
"Your kind despises humans, and humanity would burn your kingdom to ashes if they had the strength. There is zero logical reason for a Demon Lord to stake his throne on unity. And more importantly... I am human. So I don't understand why you would look at me instead of some high-born demon princess. Cut the noble facade, Lucifer. Tell me the truth."
"What actually motivates you to pursue this?"
Lucifer didn't retaliate. He didn't raise his voice or flare his aura.
Instead, his shoulders sank.
He slowly lowered his head, his white hair falling across his forehead, casting deep shadows over his face.
"I watched my little sister get stabbed to death in front of my eyes."
The breath vanished from my lungs.
Every trace of sass, sarcasm, and suspicion dissolved from my chest in an instant.
"My mother was forced to watch it too," Lucifer said, his voice terrifyingly quiet.
"We were both made to stand in the royal courtyard and watch as my father plunged a dagger through her chest moments after she drew her 1st breath. All because she was born without demon horns or demonic magic. She was born a normal human."
My eyes widened in horror.
What?
A human?
Lucifer lifted his head. His eyes weren't bright crimson anymore—they were dark, abyssal red, drowning in decades of suffocating grief.
"My mother wasn't a demon, Celia. She was a human princess. A peace offering given to my father by a defeated human kingdom centuries ago. She was kept locked inside the palace like a secretive trophy, treated like subhuman trash, forced to bear his offspring. She endured daily hatred, public humiliation, and the disgust of the entire demon court—all because our kinds refused to see each other as living beings."
My chest seized up, a knot tightening painfully in my throat.
"Then... your sister... why would your father do that to his own child?!"
"Because she didn't inherit his bloodline," Lucifer said, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped beneath his pale skin.
"Being mixed-race carries immense risk. A human mother carrying a demon child endures horrific agony, carrying the terror that her baby might kill her from the inside out. My mother survived that terror. She gave birth to a healthy, beautiful girl. And my father butchered her before she could even open her eyes... simply because she didn't have his red gaze."
I stood frozen, my heart aching with a sharp, heavy weight.
To carry a child through fear and pain... only to watch the father slaughter her in cold blood on the stone floor...
"My father only cares about pure bloodlines and supreme power," Lucifer whispered, his fists clenching at his sides until his knuckles turned bone-white.
"To him, anyone without demonic supremacy is trash to be eradicated. I want to build this world to prove him wrong. I will build an integrated continent against his absolute will, even if it forces me to draw my blade and slaughter my own father on the royal throne."
The room fell into an agonizing silence.
I looked at him. Really looked at him.
Behind the flirtatious smiles, behind the effortless swagger and the teasing remarks, this was the man standing before me. A boy who had spent his life suffocating under the bloody shadow of a monster, carrying the screams of his mother and sister in his chest every single day.
My lips parted softly.
Without thinking, I took 2 steps forward, closing the distance between us.
Noticing my approach, Lucifer began to straighten his posture, trying to force his usual composed mask back onto his face.
"No," I murmured gently, reaching out before he could pull away.
"Stay where you are. I'll handle it."
I raised my hand, gently resting my fingers against the soft white strands of his hair.
Lucifer froze. His breath hitched in his throat, his crimson eyes widening in stunned surprise as my fingers brushed softly against his scalp.
"It's okay," I said, keeping my voice soft, letting my hand glide through his hair with patient, unhurried warmth. "That must have been an unbearable burden to carry all by yourself."
Lucifer opened his mouth, his voice trembling slightly.
"Celia, that's why I need to achieve this—"
"You don't need to explain anything else right now, idiot," I cut him off, a faint, tender smile touching my lips. "Stay down. You're done working for today."
I continued running my fingers through his hair, offering him the quiet comfort he had probably never received in his entire life. The terrifying Demon Lord leaned faintly into my touch, his tense shoulders finally relaxing beneath his heavy black coat.
"I don't know everything that went wrong with your father," I told him softly, looking down at his face.
"And I can't undo the horrors of your past. But you've given me immense help. You supported my syndicate, protected my friends, and backed ambitions that anyone else would call childish. I am indebted to you, Lucifer."
I paused, meeting his gaze with absolute resolve.
"So even if your dream forces you to wage war against the true Demon King of the Nether Realm... know that I will stand beside you. I'll fight with you, and I'll help you win."
Lucifer blinked.
Then, a soft, breathy chuckle escaped his lips.
"Hahaha..."
He looked up at me, the heavy sorrow in his eyes parting like clouds breaking before sunlight.
I guess... now that I know what's driving him, my guard has genuinely dropped.
He's not a monster manipulating me for fun. He's someone trying to break a cycle of blood.
Lucifer looked at my face, a slow, familiar smirk returning to his lips.
"You know... I really didn't care about anything a moment ago," Lucifer purred, his voice dropping to a smooth, teasing murmur. "But while you're caressing my hair like this, you look remarkably hot. And I am trying extraordinarily hard not to kiss you senselessly right now."
Heat rushed instantly into my face, scorching my cheeks red.
My hand jerked away from his hair as if I had touched a hot stove.
You are so utterly annoying!
Lucifer threw his head back, laughing heartily.
"Hahaha! Ahaha!"
I spun around, crossing my arms tightly over my chest to hide the furious blush creeping up my neck.
"You ruin every single serious moment!"
"Thank you, Celia," Lucifer said from behind me, his voice soft, warm, and entirely sincere.
"I knew you would understand."
"Don't get the wrong idea, you big idiot!"
"You helped me, and it's only right that I help you back. That's all this is."
I took a deep breath, forcing my composure back into place.
So this was what lay behind the Demon Sovereign.
A dark past, a murdered sister, and a mother trapped in chains. That trauma created everything he strives to be as a person. And I don't know why, but it gives me that genuine desire to care for him and make him succeed. Because if a world like that can truly exist... then other people too, especially victims of war and loss like me, can finally be happy.
I want to comfort him not out of obligation, but simply because he deserves it after carrying all of that alone. This feeling feels new. Even if I've felt devotion before... this doesn't feel like that same suffocating devotion.
Lucifer is a wonderful person. He is doing this out of genuine kindness so nobody like his sister ever has to suffer again from discrimination...
I don't know every detail about his family yet, but I'll ask him soon enough. Now is not the time to interrogate him about something so deeply integrated into his scars. I have to make it work not through force, but through timing. I have to be patient as I try to help him.
I walked over to the tall arched window, resting my palm flat against my chest. My heart was thumping in strange, uneven beats.
This feeling is different. But it's not that same feeling I used to feel...
This fluttery, vulnerable sensation... it doesn't feel the same... but still...
Even if I tell myself something has changed...
I shook my head sharply, trying to clear the static from my brain.
Stop it...
That's just your other self trying to take over. You are better than that, Celia. Forget it.
There is nothing special about him. Lucifer is far better in every single way. His goals are noble, he's not secretive, he's kind, he's emotionally mature, and he's not selfish. Shake your head and move on.
That person is trash...
An uncomfortable, awkward flutter was tightening in my throat. I couldn't stand here under Lucifer's warm gaze with my cheeks burning like embers.
"I'm going to the washroom for 1 moment to wash my face."
Lucifer smiled gently, resting his chin on his palm.
"Take all the time you need, Mistress."
I slipped quickly out of the private office, walking briskly down the corridor into the marble washroom, shutting the heavy oak door firmly behind me.
I leaned over the porcelain basin, gripping the brass handles until my knuckles whitened.
Why do these difficult thoughts keep flooding into my mind?
Why does a garbage person like that keep taking over my head?
I twisted the tap, cupping icy water into my trembling palms and splashing it hard against my face. Water dripped from my chin, soaking the lace along my collar.
I looked into the mirror, lifted both hands, and slapped my cheeks with 2 sharp, stinging cracks.
Get a grip.
I will face Kaiser Everhart soon enough. There is zero point in obsessing over a selfish prick who threw me into the dirt.
He's probably out there right now, comfortable and completely indifferent, enjoying himself while scheming his next move. Not that he cares what he does to other people.
He only cares about himself...
I wiped my face with a linen towel, smoothed down my white hair, and pushed the door open.
I have a mafia to run.