Chapter 356 - bgx

I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC330: The Heroes back to the Empire of Light

Siara's eyes snapped open, her breath shallow as she stared at the ceiling above her. A dull, persistent ache throbbed in her temples, and she instinctively raised a hand to her forehead, massaging it in an attempt to soothe the pain.

For a moment, she lay still, silent, allowing the remnants of her dream to settle in her mind like the ripples of a disturbed pond.

She had dreamed of him again.

Nathan.

Her stepbrother's face had appeared so vividly in her dreams that it was as if he had been standing right before her, alive, real—almost within reach. Ever since his death, these dreams had plagued her, creeping into her sleep like ghosts of memories she could never escape. Sometimes, they were fragments of ordinary days, mundane moments from their shared past. But tonight had been different.

Tonight, she had relived a day she could never forget.

A day that had changed everything.

She let out a small, bitter chuckle, a breathless whisper of nostalgia laced with regret. That had been the day her perception of Nathan had shifted entirely. From that moment onward, she had made an effort to be kinder to him, to talk to him, to bridge the silent gap that had always existed between them. It had been awkward at first, her attempts clumsy and uncertain, but she had truly wanted to improve their relationship.

Yet, before she could make any real progress, fate had intervened.

They had been taken—ripped from their world and thrown into another.

A world filled with dangers, monsters, and an uncertain future.

And there, in the face of looming peril, she had been afraid. She had clung to the one person she trusted most, the one who exuded confidence and strength—Jason, her long-time crush. It had seemed natural, inevitable even, to gravitate toward him. He had been decisive, fearless, always at the front lines, while Nathan… Nathan had been quieter, more reserved. He hadn't openly shown concern, nor had he displayed any exceptional strength that would have made her feel safe beside him.

And so, without even realizing it, the distance between them had grown once more.

Perhaps it was unavoidable. In a world where survival was paramount, there had been no room for uncertainties. The faster they defeated the Demon King, the sooner they could return home, and so she had chosen the path that seemed the most secure—following Jason and his party.

And now Nathan was gone.

Dead.

His absence had left behind a gaping void, one filled with regrets that gnawed at her, consuming her from within. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, a painful reminder of the past.

"Be kind to Nathan, Siara. He's been through more than you can imagine. He always finds trouble, but he's a good boy."

She had never truly listened. Never until it was too late.

Now, all she had left were these dreams—cruel, unrelenting visions that forced her to relive what she had lost. They carried her guilt like an anchor, weighing down her heart with what-ifs and unspoken apologies.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed off her blanket and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cold beneath her bare feet, but she barely noticed. Moving toward the window, she rested her hands on the wooden frame, gazing out at the world beyond.

Her breath hitched.

A familiar sight greeted her—a bustling harbor, the distant silhouette of towering spires against the golden horizon. The crisp scent of saltwater mixed with the faint aroma of the morning breeze.

Her lips parted in disbelief.

"We're… back?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

The ship had reached the port.

And that port… she recognized it instantly.

They had finally returned.

To the Empire of Light.

The journey back to the Empire of Light had stretched across several months—not because the voyage itself was particularly long, but because the group had chosen to make frequent stops at nearby islands. Each pause provided them with a much-needed reprieve, a chance to rest, hunt for food, and momentarily forget the weight of their burdens.

It had not been a decision made lightly; it was a unanimous choice.

They had endured too much.

And they all knew what awaited them upon their return to the Empire of Light.

More training. More expectations. More scrutinizing gazes from nobles and Divine Knights who viewed them as symbols of hope, as warriors destined to bring salvation.

At first, such admiration had felt exhilarating. The respect, the privileges—they had basked in them, feeling almost untouchable. But as time passed, the glow of reverence had become suffocating. The way the nobles and knights looked at them, as if they could do no wrong, as if they were gods among men—it was stifling.

They were just students.

Children who had been thrown into a war beyond their control.

And so, for the sake of their sanity, they had prolonged their journey, savoring the brief taste of freedom before duty chained them once more.

But now, after what felt like an eternity—eight long months of self-imposed exile—they were finally back.

The ship glided smoothly into the harbor, the sound of waves lapping against the wooden hull filling the air. The salty scent of the sea was sharper here, blending with the crisp morning breeze. Ropes were cast, anchors dropped, and the massive sails slowly folded in as the vessel came to a steady halt.

Waiting for them on the dock below was a full escort of Light Empire Knights, standing in rigid formation. Their silver armor gleamed under the sunlight, their capes billowing slightly in the wind.

At least a dozen carriages had been prepared, lined up in pristine rows, and behind them stood what could only be described as a small army. The Empire had not taken any chances with their return—these so-called "Heroes" were far too valuable to be left unprotected.

As the first of them disembarked, a firm voice rang out to greet them.

"Welcome back, Heroes."

A single figure stepped forward from the ranks.

Unlike the other knights, who carried an air of disciplined rigidity, this man exuded something entirely different—self-assured confidence, a quiet yet undeniable authority.

He was tall, with sharp, chiseled features that gave him an almost regal presence. His pristine white hair, unblemished by time or war, cascaded elegantly down to his shoulders, and his piercing eyes held a depth that sent an uneasy shiver down Jason's spine.

Jason narrowed his eyes as he took a step forward, instinctively positioning himself as the leader of their group.

"And you are?" he asked, his tone neutral but cautious.

The man's lips curved into a polite smile, though there was something unreadable in his gaze.

"I am Clahvel, a Divine Knight of the Light Empire," he introduced himself smoothly. "By the order of His Majesty, I have been assigned to oversee your protection and to assume Liphiel's former role in guiding the Heroes."

At the mention of Liphiel, a scoff cut through the air.

"Tch. I don't need some weakling to babysit me."

Aidan descended from the ship with an air of barely concealed disdain, his sharp blue eyes flashing with contempt. "Liphiel died pathetically. She was useless in that war. Just another fool who couldn't handle the battlefield."

Clahvel chuckled softly.

There was no anger in his expression, no outrage at Aidan's blatant disrespect. Only amusement.

"Liphiel was never a warrior," he admitted without hesitation. "Her strengths lay elsewhere. But rest assured, any mistakes she made—I have every intention of correcting them."

For a fleeting moment, his calm demeanor faltered, and something cold flashed in his gaze. A quiet, unspoken warning.

Jason felt it immediately.

Aidan, despite his bravado, instinctively stiffened. His hand twitched, his body reacting before his mind could process why.

A strange sensation crawled up his spine, setting every nerve on edge.

That man…

There was something dangerous about him.

Jason felt it too.

A tense, wary silence hung over the group. The so-called "Heroes" remained on edge, their eyes scanning the unfamiliar face before them.

The presence of a new Divine Knight was unsettling. Trust was a fragile thing, and after all they had been through, they weren't eager to place their faith in a stranger.

Then, the tension broke.

A familiar figure stepped forward—a woman of striking beauty, her red hair catching the sunlight, her gentle presence radiating warmth.

"It's been a while, everyone."

The moment Cecilia spoke, her voice calm and soothing, the atmosphere shifted.

"Cecilia!"

Relief flooded their expressions.

The boys and girls alike rushed to greet her, their previous caution melting away as they surrounded her with genuine smiles.

Unlike the nobles and knights of the Empire, Cecilia had never treated them as mere tools of war. She had been one of the few they could trust—kind, selfless, and unwavering in her sincerity.

"Welcome back, everyone." Cecilia's smile remained soft, though there was a flicker of something in her gaze—something unreadable. "Come, let's get moving. The carriages are ready for you."

A dozen elegant carriages awaited them, their polished surfaces gleaming under the sun.

Their return to the capital would take only a few hours.

As they settled into the cushioned seats, the rhythmic clatter of hooves and the gentle rocking of the carriage provided an odd sense of normalcy. Yet, despite the comfortable ride, a strange atmosphere lingered.

Seated together, Siara and Sienna exchanged glances before Siara finally spoke up, leaning slightly out of the carriage window.

"Cecilia," she called out. "How is Teacher Amelia? And her child?"

Riding beside them on horseback, Cecilia turned, her expression softening.

"Very well," she assured with a warm smile. "Her daughter is growing beautifully."

Siara let out a small sigh of relief, but before she could respond, Sienna—who had remained silent for most of the trip—suddenly spoke up.

"Is everything… alright?"

Cecilia didn't respond immediately.

Something about the way the knights moved, the way the escort felt more like a procession than a simple welcome party—something was off.

Sienna's instincts screamed at her, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why.

Unfortunately, she wasn't just overthinking it.

Cecilia's smile faltered. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face before she finally exhaled, her tone turning grave.

"Actually… the Emperor passed away four months ago."

"Eh?!" Siara's eyes widened in shock, her voice rising in disbelief.

Even Sienna, who rarely showed much emotion, stiffened.

"A sudden illness struck him," Cecilia continued, her voice quieter now. "Despite the best efforts of the healers, he didn't survive."

Siara let out a groan, rubbing her temples. "I suppose that means the Prince took the throne?"

"Yes," Cecilia confirmed, but her hesitation didn't go unnoticed. "But… it's complicated."

Siara frowned. "Complicated how?"

Cecilia's gaze darkened slightly as she delivered the news.

"He's not ruling alone."

A cold feeling crept into Sienna's chest.

"What do you mean?" Siara asked, wary now. "Did he already find a wife?"

Cecilia shook her head. "No."

Then, after a pause, she added with an unmistakable weight to her words:

"The new Empress of the Light Empire… is Hero Nancy."

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC331: Sara Carter

"The new Empress of the Light Empire… is Hero Nancy."

At Cecilia's revelation, both Siara and Sienna froze in place, their eyes widening in sheer disbelief.

"W-What?!" Siara gasped, her voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with unfiltered shock.

She couldn't believe what she had just heard. It had to be some kind of mistake. Maybe she had misheard Cecilia, or perhaps this was all some elaborate misunderstanding.

Nancy—that Nancy—was the Empress of the Light Empire?

Her mind reeled, trying to piece together how events could have spiraled into such an absurd reality. How had things reached this point?

Yet, despite Siara's bewilderment, Cecilia remained solemn as she gave a slow, deliberate nod.

"It's true. She was chosen by the Divine Knights to ascend as the new Empress, alongside the rightful heir to the throne, Prince Geoffrey."

The weight of Cecilia's words pressed down on Siara, but instead of providing clarity, they only intensified her confusion.

"How… how did this even happen?! Why would they choose her?!" she demanded, her brows knitting together in frustration.

Cecilia let out a quiet sigh before answering, her tone calm but tinged with the same unease that Siara felt.

"Hero Nancy gave birth shortly after you left for the war. It turns out she was carrying the Emperor's child. The Divine Knights later confirmed the legitimacy of her lineage and organized the coronation ceremony."

Siara's breath hitched.

"Nancy… had a child?" she repeated, stunned.

The revelation left her momentarily speechless. It wasn't just shock—it was disbelief, mingled with something close to exasperation.

Why did it seem like so many people around her were suddenly having children? First, it had been her teacher. Then Aisha. And now Nancy as well?

But even beyond the unexpected pregnancy, the far more pressing issue was who had been made Empress.

Nancy—the same Nancy who had once tormented her classmates for fun. The same Nancy who had bullied even her own stepbrother.

Nathan had never truly entertained her cruelty, but that didn't change the fact that Nancy had been awful. She had been arrogant, self-centered, and utterly unfit to rule over an empire.

And now she sat on the throne of the Light Empire?

Siara clenched her fists at her sides.

"What were they thinking?" she muttered, her voice laced with growing anger.

The Divine Knights were supposed to be the highest governing authority. The most powerful and revered figures of the empire. Had they truly thought this decision through? Did they genuinely believe that Nancy was the ideal choice for Empress?

Siara's doubts ran deep, and judging by Cecilia's grim expression, she wasn't alone in her skepticism.

Even Cecilia didn't seem to understand why her superiors had made this decision.

Siara took a deep breath before forcing herself to focus on something else.

"…And what about Teacher Amelia?" she asked at last, her voice quieter but no less urgent. "Is she okay? Did she… really accept this?"

Siara knew Amelia well enough to know that her teacher wouldn't have simply stood by and allowed this to happen without a fight. Amelia's goal had always been to find a way to bring everyone back to Earth safely.

If Nancy had become Empress, then that goal seemed farther away than ever.

Cecilia shook her head, confirming Siara's worst fears.

"She didn't accept it," Cecilia said, her voice soft but firm. "She tried to speak with Empress Nancy directly… but was denied an audience."

Siara's stomach twisted.

"She refused to meet with Teacher Amelia?"

Cecilia's gaze darkened slightly.

"Yes. Empress Nancy has no intention of leaving. She plans to remain here… permanently."

A cold silence settled between them.

Siara's fingers curled tightly, nails digging into her palms as she struggled to process everything.

Nancy had not only been crowned Empress—but she had severed all ties with them.

And that, perhaps, was the most dangerous thing of all.

After hours of traveling by carriage, the group finally arrived at the capital. As they entered the grand city, they were once again met with an overwhelming reception. The streets were lined with cheering citizens, their voices rising in excitement as they welcomed back the so-called Heroes. Flowers were tossed into the air, banners were waved, and countless people smiled as they called out their names.

At first glance, it was a heartwarming scene—one that should have filled them with pride and relief.

And yet, for Siara and many of her classmates, those cheers rang hollow.

Were these people truly overjoyed at their return? Or had the Divine Knights carefully cultivated this reception, ensuring that their image remained untarnished even in their absence?

Siara wasn't sure.

Regardless, they had little choice but to acknowledge the celebration, even if they could feel the emptiness beneath it.

As the grand castle finally came into view, Siara felt a strange sensation wash over her. It hadn't been that long since they had last stood before these towering walls, and yet, something about this place felt… different.

The air was heavier. The atmosphere unfamiliar.

Before she could dwell on the feeling, a voice suddenly rang out from among her classmates.

"Teacher!"

Siara turned at the call, and her gaze landed on a familiar figure standing in the castle garden, waiting for them with a warm smile.

Amelia Carter.

Their teacher stood gracefully beneath the afternoon sun, her soft brown hair flowing gently in the breeze. But what caught Siara's attention most wasn't just Amelia—it was the small child in her arms.

A little girl, no older than two, nestled comfortably against her.

The baby was breathtakingly adorable, with silky black hair, striking green eyes, and pale, porcelain-like skin that made her look almost ethereal. There was an innocence to her gaze, a quiet curiosity as she observed the unfamiliar faces gathering around them.

"Is everyone okay?" Amelia asked, stepping forward to greet them.

"Teacher!"

Most of the students rushed toward her, eager to reunite with the woman who had been their guiding force throughout this ordeal. However, Jason and Aidan silently broke away from the group, quickly disappearing into the castle alongside Clahvel after requesting a private audience with him.

Siara, meanwhile, could hardly tear her eyes away from the child in Amelia's arms. A mix of surprise and disbelief flashed across her face before she finally found her voice.

"Is that… Sara?!" she asked, eyes widening. "She's already this big?!"

It seemed almost impossible.

Hadn't Sara been born only a year ago? And yet, before them stood a little girl who looked closer to three. Her growth was unnatural—rapid, almost eerily so.

But then again, nothing about their lives since their summoning had followed the natural laws they had once known. Their own bodies had changed drastically since arriving in this world. They had long since stopped being ordinary humans.

Perhaps Sara's rapid development was simply another strange anomaly in this world, a consequence of the altered nature of their existence.

At least, that was what they assumed.

Because the true reason behind Sara's unnatural growth had nothing to do with Amelia herself.

It lay within the man who had given her life.

The man whose very blood carried divine power.

Amelia chuckled softly, gently stroking Sara's dark hair as the little girl clung to her.

"She is, isn't she?" she said with a proud smile.

The child nestled comfortably in her arms, her tiny fingers grasping at Amelia's clothing as she observed the gathered students with quiet curiosity. Her pale skin almost seemed to glow under the sunlight, and her striking green eyes, framed by long lashes, gave her an otherworldly beauty. There was no doubt—this was no ordinary child.

"Wow, she's absolutely beautiful, teacher!" one of the students blurted out, staring in admiration. "So… do you think it's more your genes or your mysterious husband's genes that made her this cute?" the student teased with a playful grin.

Amelia huffed in mock indignation before flashing a proud smirk. "Both of us, of course!" she declared, tilting her chin up slightly.

Her response drew a round of amused chuckles, though most of them couldn't deny it—Sara looked far from human. Her beauty wasn't just striking; it was almost divine, as if she carried traces of something beyond mortal blood.

Siara, however, tilted her head slightly in curiosity. "Can she speak?" she asked, watching as the little girl's vivid green eyes darted between them, analyzing the unfamiliar faces.

"She can," Amelia replied with a fond smile, shifting her hold on the child. "But she's a bit shy around new people."

As if to prove her point, Sara immediately buried her face against Amelia's chest, hiding away from the sudden attention.

A collective aww rang through the group.

"She's so adorable!"

"Ugh, I want to squish those chubby cheeks!"

"So, teacher…" another student chimed in with a mischievous smirk. "When are you finally going to introduce us to her father?"

"Yeah! We need to see if he's worthy of you!"

The mood, which had been somber since their return, instantly brightened. The once-weary students, burdened by the horrors they had faced, suddenly found themselves immersed in teasing their beloved teacher.

For just a moment, it felt like they were back in their old high school life again—where the biggest worries they had were exams and friendships, not war, death, and betrayal.

Amelia let out a helpless laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, alright, I promise I'll introduce him… eventually," she said, placing a deliberate emphasis on the last word. "But first, I want to hear everything that's happened to all of you."

Her smile remained, but as her gaze drifted over her gathered students, a shadow passed over her expression.

There were missing faces.

Jason and Aidan had already walked off with Clahvel, but… others were absent as well.

Amelia knew what that meant.

Her fingers subconsciously tightened around Sara, and for just a second, grief flickered in her eyes. But she quickly buried it.

She had to be strong—for the ones who were left.

Yet, just as she was about to lead them inside, her eyes landed on someone.

Aisha.

Her gaze widened in shock.

"A… Aisha?!"

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Aisha stood among her classmates, her hand resting gently over her swollen belly.

The once-timid girl shifted slightly under Amelia's stunned stare before offering a small, almost bashful smile.

"Ah… teacher," she murmured. "I met someone."

The group fell into a heavy silence.

Amelia slowly looked around at her other students, expecting an explanation. But one by one, they all averted their gazes, as if they themselves didn't quite understand how this had happened.

It was utterly surreal.

Out of everyone, Aisha was the last person Amelia would have expected to end up in this situation.

And the timing—just as she was still trying to process Nancy becoming a mother, and not just to any child, but to the Emperor's heir, a man thirty years her senior!

And now… Aisha?

For a moment, Amelia wanted to say something—anything—to express her shock. Maybe even to reprimand her, to question how something like this had happened. But when she saw the happiness in Aisha's expression, the gentle way she rested her hand over her growing belly, Amelia felt the words die in her throat.

With a deep sigh, she chose a different path.

"…Come," she said at last, turning toward the castle. "Let's talk. I want to hear everything."

And with that, she led her students forward, bracing herself for whatever revelations lay ahead.

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC332: Desire of child

In the grand and opulent dining hall of the Castle of the Empire of Light, the Heroes of the Empire had gathered for a formal dinner. The room was illuminated by the soft glow of chandeliers hanging from the towering ceiling, their golden light reflecting off the polished marble floors. Massive stained-glass windows lined the walls, casting colorful patterns upon the pristine white tablecloths. The faint hum of conversation blended with the clinking of silverware as servants, dressed in immaculate uniforms, moved gracefully between the tables, ensuring that no glass remained empty and every plate was filled with the finest delicacies the empire had to offer.

The Heroes had arrived only a few hours prior, yet their presence was already required for an important discussion regarding the future. While the official matters were yet to be addressed, for now, the dinner served as a moment of respite—one where they could indulge in a luxurious feast prepared exclusively for them.

At one of the grand tables, a strikingly beautiful young woman with honey-blond hair sat with a composed elegance befitting her royal status. The regal golden crown atop her head shimmered in the warm candlelight, and the flowing silk of her royal blue gown accentuated the deep azure of her brilliant eyes. She carried herself with an air of dignity, yet there was a distinct warmth in her expression as she turned toward the small girl seated on Amelia's lap.

"Sarah… open your mouth," Princess Adelia cooed gently, holding a fork with a perfectly round meatball toward the timid child before her.

Sarah, a delicate young girl with wide, uncertain eyes, hesitated for a brief moment. She recognized Adelia—among the sea of unfamiliar faces surrounding her, Adelia's was one she trusted, if only slightly more than the others. Slowly, she parted her lips, allowing the princess to feed her. The rich flavor of the seasoned meat filled her mouth, but rather than reacting, Sarah simply lowered her gaze, chewing quietly as if overwhelmed by the attention.

A soft sigh escaped Adelia's lips, her expression melting into one of pure adoration. "She's just too precious…" she murmured in awe, her heart swelling at Sarah's endearing shyness.

She was not alone in her sentiment.

Around the table, several young women were watching the scene with a mixture of quiet admiration and barely contained longing. Among them were Siara, Aisha, Sienna, and others, each of them unable to look away from Sarah's innocent and fragile presence.

Siara, in particular, eyed Sarah with a longing gaze, though she refrained from acting impulsively. She had learned quickly that forcing herself into Sarah's comfort zone would only frighten the child, and that was the last thing she wanted. Though she felt a strong desire to interact with her, she knew that patience was the key to gaining trust.

A wistful sigh left Siara's lips. "Ah… I want a baby too now."

She wasn't the only one.

Several of the other girls nodded in agreement, their expressions dreamy as they continued watching Sarah. Though the thought itself was daunting—motherhood was a responsibility none of them were prepared for—the mere sight of Sarah evoked something deep within them.

However, their musings were swiftly interrupted by Amelia's sharp voice. "It's far too soon for any of you to be thinking about that! And don't even consider it without your parents' knowledge!" she scolded, her tone reminiscent of a strict yet caring teacher.

"But Aisha is pregnant, teacher!" one of the girls piped up, raising her hand enthusiastically as she gestured toward Aisha, who sat calmly at the table, one hand resting protectively over her slightly swollen belly.

A moment of silence followed as all eyes turned toward Aisha. A gentle smile graced her lips, and there was an undeniable glow to her presence—one that only a woman carrying life within her could possess. The realization settled upon the group, and for a brief moment, even Amelia found herself at a loss for words.

Amelia had already spoken at length with Aisha about her situation, but it was clear that her words had made no difference. Aisha remained unwavering in her decision, showing not even a hint of regret. There was no point in pressing further—Aisha's mind was made up, and it wasn't as if Amelia could do anything about it anyway. In just a few months—perhaps even sooner, given the pace of her pregnancy—Aisha would give birth, and she seemed genuinely happy about it.

Looking at her now, it was hard to argue. Aisha radiated a serene, almost maternal glow, her expression one of quiet contentment as she absentmindedly rested her hand on her stomach. The sight of it made Amelia sigh inwardly.

"Aisha and Nancy are exceptions," Amelia finally said, her voice gentle yet firm as she addressed the other girls. "But please, before making such a decision, think about it carefully. Raising a child alone is incredibly difficult."

There was a brief silence before Sienna suddenly spoke up. "Do you regret it?"

Amelia blinked at the unexpected question, but her answer came without hesitation.

"Not at all," she said softly.

If anything, Nathan had been the greatest emotional support in her life.

Ever since she had arrived in this unfamiliar world, Amelia had forced herself to remain calm, to be a stable figure for her students—an anchor amidst the chaos. She had bottled up her fears, her frustrations, her homesickness, all in an effort to project strength. But the weight of it all had started to crush her, eroding her mental health little by little. And then, Nathan appeared.

She knew what they had was considered wrong—she was his teacher, and he was her student—but he had given her two of the greatest joys she had ever known. Love… and a child.

Her gaze softened as she looked down at Sara, who sat quietly in her lap, blissfully unaware of the significance of the moment. Amelia's expression warmed, her fingers gently brushing against Sara's silver hair.

Across the table, Aisha studied the scene for a moment. A flicker of realization crossed her eyes, as if a puzzle piece had just clicked into place in her mind. But just as quickly as the thought came, she pushed it away. Now was not the time for such speculation.

In just a few months—perhaps even sooner—Aisha would finally hold her child in her arms. The thought alone filled her with both excitement and nervous anticipation. Watching Amelia with Sara only intensified her longing, making her even more impatient for the day she could cradle her own baby, whispering promises of love and protection.

More than anything, Aisha wanted to be the perfect mother. She wanted to give her child warmth, security, and a future untouched by the shadows that loomed over their world. But even as she envisioned the joyful days ahead, an unshakable sadness settled in her heart.

Nathan wouldn't be there.

She had known it from the start, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

The capital of the Empire of Light was too dangerous for him—especially with the Divine Knights watching their every move like hawks. If Nathan set foot here, it would be a huge risk as they would understand he was alive and Nathan would become a to threat immediately. The very thought made her chest tighten with frustration and helplessness.

He should have been with her.

From the very beginning, from the moment their child first entered this world, he should have been by her side. Holding her hand. Witnessing the first cries of the life they had created together. Sharing in that irreplaceable moment as a family.

But instead, she would have to endure it alone.

Aisha's fingers instinctively curled over her stomach as a wave of sorrow washed over her. Her expression darkened, her gaze turning distant and heavy.

It wasn't fair.

All of this—this forced separation, this suffocating entrapment—was because of the Divine Knights. They were the enforcers of the Empire's will, the chains that bound them, ensuring that those like her and Nathan could never truly be free.

Her dark eyes dimmed with sadness.

How long?

How much longer would they have to wait before they could truly be a family? Before they could leave behind this corrupted empire and live without fear?

She knew Nathan was fighting for that future. She knew he was doing everything in his power to break the chains that bound them. But Aisha was tired of waiting. Tired of being trapped in this place, forced to pretend that everything was fine.

She wanted to leave.

She wanted to be with Nathan.

She wanted to raise their child in a world where they didn't have to live in hiding, where love wasn't shackled by politics and power.

One day, she vowed.

One day, they would have that future.

But for now, she could only wait.

And hope.

The moment of quiet reflection was suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps—dozens of them, heavy and deliberate, echoing across the grand hall.

All conversation ceased.

Heads turned as the air in the room grew thick with tension. And then, she arrived.

Nancy.

She moved with the grace of a queen, adorned in a regal gown that shimmered under the candlelight, each step she took exuding power and authority. But she was no mere noble—no, she was far beyond that now.

She was an Empress.

A gentle smile graced her lips as she entered, a smile that belied the iron will beneath it. In her hand, she held the smaller, delicate fingers of a young child—a boy no older than six. His bright blond hair gleamed like sunlight, and his golden eyes held a spark of intelligence far beyond his years. There was no mistaking it. This was her son. Lucerus.

Nancy was not alone.

Flanking her on either side were two imposing figures, their armor gleaming under the flickering chandeliers. They were Divine Knights—warriors of the highest order, their presence exuding an aura of overwhelming strength. More knights followed closely behind, a silent testament to the sheer power Nancy now commanded.

The gathered Heroes remained frozen, their minds struggling to process the sight before them.

Nancy. Their former classmate. The same girl they had once laughed with, studied with, fought alongside. Now, she sat before them upon a grand throne, the weight of an empire resting upon her shoulders.

She met their stares with an almost playful glint in her eye, relishing their astonishment. Slowly, she moved with practiced elegance, stepping forward until she reached her throne. Without breaking her stride, she seated herself with the ease of someone who had done so countless times before.

Lucerus followed suit, his small frame settling comfortably onto his mother's lap. A smirk tugged at his lips as he surveyed the room, his golden eyes sweeping over the assembled Heroes with an expression that was both curious and amused.

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC333: Empress Nancy

Lucerus followed suit, his small frame settling comfortably onto his mother's lap. A smirk tugged at his lips as he surveyed the room, his golden eyes sweeping over the assembled Heroes with an expression that was both curious and amused.

The room fell into a stunned silence as all eyes fixated on the child standing beside Nancy.

Lucerus.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, whispers spreading like wildfire.

"Is that… really her child?"

"What the hell?! This doesn't make any sense!"

"Are you sure?! He should only be a year old, right?!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure… but look at him!"

"Maybe… maybe it's another baby she took in?"

"That makes no sense! Just look at them—he's clearly her son."

The disbelief was warranted. Lucerus had been born less than two years ago, yet he already appeared to be six years old. His growth defied all logic, surpassing even the astounding rate at which Sara had matured—a feat that had already left many in awe. But Lucerus… his case was beyond extraordinary. It was something unprecedented, something that shook the very foundation of their understanding of human development.

Yet, it was to be expected. With the sheer number of divine blessings bestowed upon him, this unnatural acceleration of growth was merely a reflection of his true potential.

And it wasn't just his physical development that stood out.

A tangible wave of magic radiated from Lucerus, pulsating like an untamed force barely contained within his small frame. It was overwhelming. The sheer amount of mana swirling inside him was absurd, utterly impossible for a child born merely two years ago. Even the most powerful among them couldn't help but wonder—if he possessed this much power now, what kind of monster would he become in a few years?

A shiver ran down Siara's spine as she turned toward Adelia, who stood trembling beside her.

"Adelia… are you okay?" Siara asked, her voice laced with concern.

Adelia's hands clenched into fists at her sides. She seemed uneasy—no, far more than that. Anxiety rolled off her in waves, her entire body stiff with tension.

Nancy, meanwhile, sat comfortably upon her throne, her expression one of complete satisfaction. She barely seemed to notice the commotion around her, her fingers idly stroking Lucerus's hair as if he were nothing more than a beloved pet. A knowing smile played on her lips as she watched the others react.

Then, amidst the murmurs and speculations, a hushed voice cut through the crowd.

"Where is the new emperor?"

A beat of silence followed before another whispered response.

"Who knows…"

Siara's sharp gaze returned to Adelia, waiting for an answer.

Adelia hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if debating whether she should truly reveal the truth. Then, after a long, uncertain pause, she finally spoke.

"My brother…" Her voice wavered. "He never accepted this marriage."

The revelation sent a shockwave through the room. Even Amelia, who had remained composed up until now, widened her eyes in disbelief.

"It's all just a facade," Adelia continued, her expression darkening. "A carefully constructed image to grant Nancy legitimacy to rule. That's all it ever was. I haven't seen my brother for months…"

A heavy silence settled over them.

Sienna, frowning, was the first to break it.

"But… why?" she asked, bewildered. "Why would they go so far just to give Nancy legitimacy?"

Did she possess something they weren't aware of? Some hidden power? Some divine right?

Adelia hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, her voice laced with uncertainty.

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted, her brows furrowing. "But I believe it has to do with the fact that her child carries the royal blood of my father. And… she listens to the Divine Knights."

The weight of her words settled over the group like a heavy fog, their implications chilling.

"My brother… he has his flaws, but he isn't as obedient as my father was when it came to the Divine Knights. He questions them, refuses to be their puppet. My mother was the same—she never trusted them, especially after my father's death. She was always suspicious of what really happened to him."

Adelia clenched her fists at her sides, her body visibly tensing.

"In the end, Hero Nancy—who just so happened to bear my father's child—became the perfect candidate. A 'hero' with royal blood, easy to mold, easy to present to the people. That's why this marriage between her and my brother… it's all a farce. A carefully crafted deception to solidify her rule and grant her authority over the people of the Empire of Light."

The revelation sent another wave of shock through the room.

Siara, struggling to process what she had just heard, took a step closer to Adelia. Her voice was filled with disbelief.

"Wait… suspicions? Are you saying the Emperor didn't die from an illness?"

Adelia's anxious expression deepened. If she had been uneasy before, now she seemed downright terrified. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.

Before she could answer, a voice cut through the tension.

"Thank you for answering my call, Hero of the Empire of Light," Nancy spoke at last, her tone smooth, almost amused.

A serene smile rested on her lips as she gazed at them, utterly detached from their shock and concern. It was as if she had already moved past this conversation, as if their emotions were nothing more than background noise to her.

Her classmates stiffened, but Nancy paid them no mind. She remained poised on her throne, her fingers gently stroking Lucerus's hair as she continued.

"There is nothing to worry about regarding the war at Troy," she said, her voice calm, composed. "It was merely a whim of the Goddess Hera. A conflict born out of her personal grievances. And, in the end, the ones who suffered defeat were the Greeks—not us. Not the Empire of Light."

Her words, though spoken with certainty, did little to ease the tension in the room.

Her classmates exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions ranging from disbelief to irritation.

Nancy wasn't even there.

How could she speak so lightly about the war? How could she dismiss what they had endured so easily? The blood, the chaos, the horror of battle—it was something she hadn't experienced firsthand, something she could never truly understand.

Yet, none of them spoke up.

Whether out of fear, frustration, or resignation, they all remained silent.

Nancy, still smiling, raised her hand and activated a magic tool. A shimmering light flickered in the air before them, and a moment later, a projected image appeared.

A man stood in the projection, his jet-black hair neatly brushed back, his sharp features partially obscured by an eye patch.

"This," Nancy said, gesturing toward the image, "is the Hero of Darkness from the Kingdom of Tenebria. He goes by the name Samael."

A heavy stillness settled over the room.

Then, the image flickered—and changed.

A new face appeared.

Heiron.

The effect was immediate.

Eyes widened in horror. Some gasped audibly. Others flinched as if struck. A few even let out small, strangled yelps of fear.

For a brief moment, the room was filled with a suffocating sense of dread.

The mere sight of Heiron's face was enough to send shivers down their spines.

Memories of battle—of the sheer brutality he had unleashed upon them—flashed through their minds.

That man…

That monster…

He had slaughtered so many people without hesitation, without a flicker of remorse.

Even now, long after the battle had ended, his image alone was enough to awaken something primal in them. Fear. Trauma. A visceral reaction that none of them could suppress.

And Nancy?

She continued smiling, watching their reactions with quiet amusement.

"Samael and Heiron… are one and the same."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Siara's breath hitched as she turned her gaze toward the projected images. The resemblance was undeniable—the same sharp features, the same cruel smirk hidden beneath an air of cold indifference.

No one had considered it before. Samael, the feared Hero of Darkness. Heiron, the ruthless executioner who had haunted their nightmares.

They were the same person.

"What are you saying?" Siara demanded, stepping forward with a frown.

But before Nancy could respond, a childish voice cut through the tension.

"Mommy, can I take her as a slave?"

Lucerus's small finger pointed directly at Siara, his tone devoid of hesitation.

The room froze.

Siara's eyes widened in disbelief, and a collective shudder passed through her classmates. The silence was deafening.

Then—Nancy laughed.

A light, casual laugh, as if she were merely humoring the whims of an innocent child.

"No, my dear," she cooed, stroking Lucerus's hair. "She is a Hero. You cannot do that."

Lucerus pouted in disappointment but obediently lowered his hand.

Siara, still reeling, barely registered Nancy's next words.

"It has been confirmed by the Gods themselves. Samael is Heiron, and he is the greatest threat to the Empire of Light."

Nancy's eyes flickered with something unreadable as she swept her gaze across the room.

"But not only to us," she continued, her voice turning softer. "He is also a threat to you Heroes. He is the wall separating you from the Demon King… from your freedom… from returning to Earth."

Silence fell.

Then, something shifted.

The fear in their eyes, while still present, was joined by something else—hope.

They had all but resigned themselves to this world, to a fate they never asked for. But now… there was a chance. A chance to go back.

"How are we supposed to do that?" someone spoke up, their voice shaking. "He's a monster! Stronger than all of us combined!"

"Yeah! He easily took down Jason and Aidan like they were nothing!"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. They had all witnessed his overwhelming strength firsthand. They knew the sheer gap between them.

Nancy, still smiling, folded her hands gracefully in front of her.

"Do not worry about that," she assured them. "The Divine Knights have arranged a special training for you. But you must put in the effort."

Her words, meant to be reassuring, only filled them with more unease.

Training? Against that monster?

Yet, if it meant they could return home… did they have a choice?

"Now," Nancy continued, smoothly changing the subject. "Let's move on to another matter. Since Kastoria chose to ally itself with Tenebria after their defeat, we too have decided to forge a true alliance. Not with a Kingdom, but with an Empire."

Siara narrowed her eyes. "An Empire?"

Nancy nodded.

"Yes. The Empire of Ra."

The name alone sent another ripple of uncertainty through the room.

"The Empire of Ra?" Siara repeated.

Nancy's smile widened.

"Indeed. The God Anubis has personally accepted our proposal of alliance."

Gasps echoed among the Heroes. A God had accepted an alliance with them?

Nancy's voice was smooth and composed as she concluded, "Very soon, the Heroes of both nations will meet. Until then, I expect all of you to train diligently. You must be ready."

After delivering her final words with an air of detached authority, Nancy rose gracefully from her seat, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She grasped Lucerus's small hand in hers, her grip firm yet tender, and strode out of the grand hall with an air of indifference, as though the chaos and responsibilities she left behind were no longer her concern. The echoes of her heels clicking against the polished marble floor faded as she disappeared through the towering double doors, leaving the assembled courtiers and advisors to deal with the aftermath of her decisions.

"Mommy, I'm hungry," Lucerus whined softly, tugging at her gown with his tiny fingers.

Nancy paused, glancing down at her son with a fleeting expression of maternal affection before her usual composed demeanor returned. She patted his head gently, her touch almost perfunctory, and turned to address the maid who had been trailing behind them.

"Maid, take Lucerus," Nancy commanded, her voice cool and authoritative. "Ensure he is fed and put to bed. I have matters to attend to."

The maid bowed deeply, her hands clasped respectfully in front of her. "At once, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She stepped forward and took Lucerus's hand, leading him away with a gentle but firm grip. The child glanced back at his mother, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and longing, but Nancy's attention had already shifted elsewhere.

As the maid and Lucerus disappeared down the corridor, Nancy continued her journey to her private quarters. The opulent halls of the palace were bathed in the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, their light casting intricate patterns on the walls adorned with tapestries depicting the empire's storied history. Her gown, a masterpiece of silk and embroidery, trailed behind her like a river of liquid gold, the fabric shimmering with every step she took.

Upon entering her chambers, Nancy was greeted by the sight of Clahvel, her most trusted confidante and advisor. Clahvel stood near the ornate fireplace, her arms crossed and a knowing smile playing on her lips. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across her sharp features, accentuating the calculating gleam in her eyes.

"You did an excellent job, Empress," Clahvel said, her voice smooth and laced with admiration. "The court was left speechless, as always."

Nancy smirked, a flicker of pride crossing her face as she approached her vanity. "Of course I did," she replied, her tone dripping with confidence. "I was born to be an Empress. It's in my blood."

She reached up and deftly unfastened the delicate strap of her gown, allowing the fabric to slip from her shoulders and pool at her feet. The cool air of the chamber kissed her bare skin, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she turned her attention to the two Divine Knights who stood at attention near the doorway, their imposing figures clad in gleaming armor that seemed to radiate an otherworldly aura.

"Do it?" Nancy said, her voice low and commanding, her eyes glinting with anticipation.

The knights obeyed without hesitation. They removed their helmets in unison, revealing strikingly handsome faces that seemed almost too perfect to be real. Their chiseled features were framed by cascading locks of hair, one dark as midnight and the other golden like the sun. They set their helmets aside and began to shed their armor, the heavy plates clinking as they fell to the floor, leaving them clad only in their undergarments.

Nancy watched with a predatory gaze, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as they approached her. The first knight, his body sculpted like a statue of a god, closed the distance between them in a few strides. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely, his lips claiming hers with a hunger that mirrored her own. Nancy responded in kind, her hands roaming over his muscular chest and down to the waistband of his pants.

With practiced ease, she freed his hardened length, her fingers wrapping around his girth as she guided him toward her. She gasped as he entered her, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her body. He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he began to thrust into her with a rhythm that was both urgent and relentless.

"Haaan❤️! Yes! Fuck me!" Nancy cried out, her voice a mixture of ecstasy and command. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the chamber, mingling with her moans and the knight's ragged breaths.

The second knight, not to be outdone, moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips firmly. He pulled her away from the first knight, eliciting a whimper of protest from Nancy, but it was quickly replaced by a gasp of pleasure as he filled her from behind. His movements were deliberate and powerful, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

The first knight, now free, positioned himself in front of her, his cock glistening with her arousal. Nancy leaned forward, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around his length with practiced skill. Her face was flushed, her eyes half-lidded with desire, and her body trembled as she was pleasured from both ends.

Clahvel observed the scene with a detached calm, her expression unreadable. She had seen this countless times before—Nancy indulging in her carnal desires, using the knights as instruments of her pleasure. It was a familiar sight, one that no longer surprised her. With a faint sigh, Clahvel turned away, her mind already shifting to the next task at hand.

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC334: Tenebria's growth

The Kingdom of Tenebria

The Kingdom of Tenebria had endured an era of suffering, its people bearing the weight of devastation left behind by the last Demon King's war. The madness that had consumed their former ruler had led to a relentless conflict that drained the kingdom of its soldiers, wealth, and even the faith of its own citizens. Though decades had passed since that dark chapter in history, the scars of war had yet to heal.

Despite their desperate attempts to recover, Tenebria remained weakened. The neighboring human kingdoms, emboldened by their losses, launched frequent attacks on their borders, raiding villages and towns along the outskirts. Their people, once proud, now lived in fear, suffering the cruel discrimination imposed upon them by other races. Even the gods themselves seemed to turn their backs on Tenebria, as if punishing them for sins they had no part in.

But everything changed with a single event—an event that would alter the course of history for the forsaken kingdom.

The Summoning of the Hero

Like the other kingdoms, Tenebria had sought salvation through the ancient ritual of hero summoning. Their mages, priests, and scholars worked tirelessly, calling forth a champion who could stand against their enemies and restore balance. However, unlike the others who summoned multiple Heroes, Tenebria's summoning yielded only one.

A single Hero.

A man who would come to be known as the Hero of Darkness.

This lone warrior, a stranger to their world, possessed a power that struck fear into their hearts. He wielded the forbidden Dark Magic—the same magic that had once fueled the Demon King's reign of terror. Whispers of dread spread among the people. Would this so-called Hero follow in the Demon King's footsteps? Would his existence provoke the slumbering darkness, reigniting the flames of war?

For a time, uncertainty loomed over the kingdom. Yet, contrary to their fears, disaster did not come. The Hero of Darkness, Samael, proved to be nothing like the tyrants of the past.

He was strong, formidable, and carried an air of authority that demanded respect. His presence was undeniable, his very existence radiating a quiet yet overwhelming force. However, unlike the Demon King, he was neither cruel nor reckless. He was composed, sharp-minded, and most importantly—sane. His power did not bring chaos but rather stability.

A Savior, Not a Tyrant fortunately.

Though it took time, the people of Tenebria began to see Samael not as a threat, but as a beacon of hope. Under his leadership, the kingdom slowly regained its footing. The once-broken lands stabilized, and the fear that had clung to their people like a shroud began to lift.

But it was his battle against the Kingdom of Kastoria that solidified his place in their hearts forever.

Word spread like wildfire. The world trembled at the news—Samael, the Hero of Darkness, had single-handedly defeated the Heroes of Kastoria. He had not only repelled their forces but had secured their vow to never again wage war against Tenebria.

For the first time in decades, the people of Tenebria felt something they had long forgotten—pride.

No longer were they merely a struggling kingdom desperately fending off attacks. No longer did they cower in fear of sudden invasions. Samael had not just won a battle; he had ensured their survival, granted them a future free from oppression.

To them, he was more than a summoned hero.

He was their protector, their savior and their promise of a better future.

Since the moment he had appeared, the Kingdom of Tenebria had undergone an unprecedented transformation, experiencing a period of rapid growth unlike anything in its history. Once a war-torn nation on the brink of collapse, struggling under the weight of endless conflicts, it had now begun to flourish at an astonishing rate. The wealth they had lost to war and mismanagement was swiftly being restored, their cities and fortresses rebuilt stronger than before, and, perhaps most notably, the streets were no longer tainted with the stench of senseless bloodshed.

For the first time in years, the people of Tenebria could breathe without the constant fear of war looming over them. It had been a full year since their armies had last engaged in a major battle. While small skirmishes still erupted in distant territories, they were nothing compared to the ceaseless warfare that plagued the Kingdom of Kastoria. There were no grand invasion plans, no desperate struggles for survival—only an uneasy peace. But this peace did not come from treaties or diplomatic negotiations. It was a peace born from fear.

The entire continent had grown wary, if not outright terrified, of the man known as Samael.

Yet, it was not just Samael who instilled fear into the hearts of kings and generals alike. It was the three enigmatic women who always stood by his side—his Black Knights.

Each of them was a paragon of strength, possessing skills and abilities that bordered on the supernatural. Their beauty was as captivating as it was unsettling, for beneath their alluring appearances lay something terrifying. They exuded an aura of untamed power, an unrestrained force that seemed capable of reducing entire cities to ruin if left unchecked. Yet, for all their chaos, they obeyed only one man.

Nathan.

And it was fortunate they followed his command, for if left to their own devices, they could bring untold destruction to the world.

Within the capital of Tenebria, life had taken on a new vibrancy.

Once a bleak and desolate place, shrouded in darkness and misery due to the unrelenting wars, the city now pulsed with energy. The once somber streets, where only the sounds of marching soldiers and grieving families had echoed, were now filled with the laughter of children playing in the open. Couples strolled through the marketplaces hand in hand, while elders sat outside their homes, chatting and enjoying the warmth of the sun. Parents, once burdened with sorrow, now smiled as they watched their offspring grow up in a world that no longer demanded bloodshed from them.

Under the golden radiance of the midday sun, the capital of Tenebria had become a sight to behold—a city reborn.

And yet, what was perhaps most astonishing was the presence of humans among them.

Human merchants, a sight that would have been inconceivable in the past, now walked the streets of Tenebria freely. This remarkable change had come about thanks to the delicate yet strategic alliance formed with the Kingdom of Kastoria. Though visitors remained few, and many still harbored deep-seated fears about entering a city of demons, those who had braved their uncertainties to see the capital for themselves found their preconceived notions shattered.

They expected horrors, monstrous beings, and barbaric savagery.

Instead, they found a city that mirrored their own.

The demons laughed, they shopped, they celebrated, and they embraced life just as any human would. The so-called monsters were no different from them.

It was a sight that left many guests, including seasoned merchants who had traveled far and wide, utterly speechless.

For in Tenebria, a long-lost truth had been unveiled: there was no inherent difference between demons and humans—only the prejudices that had been passed down for generations.

Once again, the catalyst behind this great transformation was none other than Samael. It was he who had secured the alliance with the Kingdom of Kastoria, a partnership that had once seemed impossible. Through his efforts, Tenebria had stabilized, and the looming specter of war had finally begun to dissipate. However, even his influence alone would not have been enough to guide the nation toward true prosperity.

The turning point had come with the rise of their new queen—Azariah.

She was everything the demons had longed for in a ruler: strong, intelligent, and, above all, compassionate. Unlike the tyrants of the past, Azariah did not seek to rule with an iron fist or through fear and domination. She genuinely cared for her people, working tirelessly to ensure the growth of the nation and the well-being of all who lived within its borders. Under her reign, the streets flourished, the markets thrived, and even the once-hostile relations with humans had begun to mend.

It was no wonder the people adored her.

But beneath their admiration, a single lingering fear remained—one they dared not speak too loudly.

The previous Demon King.

Wherever he was, they prayed he would never return. The last thing they wanted was for their hard-earned progress to be undone by his reappearance. They feared that if he did, all the peace and prosperity they had gained under Azariah's rule would crumble, and they would be thrust back into an era of war and suffering.

For now, however, life within the royal castle continued as usual.

The grand halls of the Demon King's palace buzzed with activity. Maids and servants moved diligently through the corridors, their footsteps light yet purposeful as they worked tirelessly to maintain the castle's pristine splendor. Every surface gleamed, not a speck of dust to be found, a testament to the dedication of the staff.

In the castle's vast kitchens, the air was thick with the scent of sizzling meats, fresh bread, and exotic spices. Men and women alike labored over massive stoves and grand banquet tables, meticulously preparing meals fit for royalty. The clang of pots and the hum of voices blended into a rhythmic symphony of work, their movements precise and efficient.

Beyond the castle's walls, guards patrolled the grounds with practiced vigilance. Clad in dark armor, their eyes sharp, they moved through the courtyards and along the stone pathways, ensuring the safety of their queen and her domain.

And in the heart of the castle gardens, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the leaves, sat a lone figure.

She was seated gracefully upon an ornate stone bench, surrounded by vibrant blooms swaying gently in the breeze. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, its silky strands catching the golden light. But it was her eyes—piercing blue and filled with an enigmatic depth—that set her apart.

She was not of this land.

Even at a glance, it was clear that she was foreign to this continent, her features distinct, her presence almost ethereal against the lush greenery of the garden.

It was Briseis.

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC335: Briseis's pain

Briseis sat alone, her delicate frame bathed in the golden embrace of the afternoon sun. The warm breeze caressed her skin, carrying with it the soothing rustle of leaves dancing in the air. In the distance, chiropractor birds flitted about, their wings slicing through the wind as they moved in rhythmic harmony. She watched them with an unreadable expression, her thoughts drifting like the leaves carried by the gentle gusts.

It had been several months since she had left behind everything she once knew and moved to Tenebria. A decision she had made entirely on her own.

She had needed this change—needed an escape, both from the suffocating remnants of her past and from the ghosts that lurked within the familiar walls of Troy. Remaining in the Trojan lands had felt like drowning in a sea of painful memories, each wave pulling her deeper into the abyss of her past suffering.

The fall of Lyrnessus still haunted her, an inescapable wound that festered in the corners of her mind. And then, there was the nightmare that followed—the moment she had fallen into Agamemnon's clutches.

Though he had never laid a hand on her in the way he did with so many others, what he had done to her was something even worse—a relentless assault on her psyche, a slow, torturous unraveling of her will. He had forced her to drink vile concoctions, to swallow strange substances that made her body react in unnatural ways. She had been nothing more than an unwilling spectator, forced to watch as he ravaged countless women, his cruel voice whispering to her that this was merely preparation for her turn.

The mere memory of it sent a shudder down her spine. He was a monster, a man bereft of any shred of humanity.

She would never forget the day Nathan arrived, cutting through the shadows that had imprisoned her. He had saved her before the inevitable could happen, before Agamemnon could finally claim her as he had promised. And yet, despite her freedom, the scars remained—deep, invisible wounds carved into her soul. The months she had spent in Agamemnon's grasp had left an imprint upon her that could not be erased.

When she returned to Troy, she had expected to heal. But instead, she had been met with yet another battle—this time against her own body. Without the substances Agamemnon had forced upon her, she suffered the cruel effects of withdrawal. Her body had grown dependent on them, shackled to the poisons he had fed her. Every moment had been a war against herself, and she had fought it alone, shutting herself away within the royal palace, lost in her suffering.

Even when Nathan avenged her, when she learned that he had slain Agamemnon with his own hands, she had felt only fleeting relief. The joy of his death was hollow in the face of the damage he had left behind.

And so, she had withered, isolating herself from the world, retreating into the dark recesses of her own mind. She cried until she could cry no more, locked in her chamber as the echoes of her past tormented her.

Until Astynome came.

Unlike the others, Astynome did not pity her. She did not demand that Briseis move on or attempt to drag her from her solitude. Instead, she was patient. She was kind. She listened.

And when Briseis had no more tears left to shed, Astynome had offered her something precious—a chance to escape, to leave behind the land that had been tainted with so much suffering.

A chance to begin anew.

In Tenebria.

Briseis had accepted.

She had known, deep down, that leaving the Trojan lands was the right choice. Staying would have meant being haunted by the memories of war, of loss, and of the countless scars—both seen and unseen—that the conflict had left on her and so many others. The devastation of the Trojan War had carved itself into the very soil, and she could no longer bear to walk upon it.

Her recovery had been slow, painstaking. Some days felt lighter, almost normal, but others dragged her back into the abyss, reminding her that wounds of the soul did not heal as easily as those of the flesh.

"Briseis."

A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Astynome approaching, her graceful steps barely disturbing the grass beneath her feet.

Briseis offered her a small, warm smile. "I thought you would be busy."

It was a fair assumption—Astynome was a priestess of the gods, and her duties kept her occupied most days.

Since arriving in Tenebria, with the aid of Nathan's influence, Astynome had built a grand temple dedicated not just to Apollo, but to all the gods. It was her way of ensuring that Tenebria would have divine favor, expanding the pantheon's presence and securing blessings from multiple deities. Because of this, she was almost always preoccupied, managing rituals, prayers, and the growing number of followers who sought her guidance.

"I decided to take a rest today," Astynome said as she gracefully lowered herself onto the seat beside Briseis. "How are you feeling?"

Briseis exhaled slowly, a hint of bitterness creeping into her voice. "Unlike you, Helen, or Clytemnestra, I have nothing to do. My life feels empty and useless."

It was the truth she had been struggling with for months. While she, too, was a priestess, acting as a conduit between the gods and Tenebria, it didn't feel like enough. Helen and Clytemnestra had taken on significant roles in aiding the queen with Tenebria's economy and governance—natural responsibilities for women who had once been queens themselves, raised with the knowledge and education befitting their former stations.

But Briseis? She had no such role. No purpose. And that weighed on her more than she cared to admit.

Astynome shook her head gently. "You know that's not true, Briseis. We would gladly accept your help—but first, you need to heal."

Briseis clenched her fists. "I have recovered!"

"No, you haven't," Astynome countered, her voice firm but kind. "Do you remember what happened a month ago?"

Briseis's face flushed crimson, and she quickly averted her gaze, her heart pounding with the memory she wished she could forget.

"I... I wasn't in the right state of mind... I didn't mean to—"

"Are you sure?" Astynome's lips curled into a teasing smirk as she looked at Briseis. "You barged into Nathan's room and attacked him. If you ask me, it seemed like you wanted him to take you." She let out a soft laugh, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Everyone within Nathan's inner circle had heard about that peculiar incident. In fact, Astynome was particularly aware of it—after all, she had been in Nathan's bed that night.

It had been her night to accompany him, sharing in the pleasure of his warmth, when Briseis had stormed into the room, completely out of her mind. The memory was still fresh, and Astynome found it difficult not to tease her friend about it.

Briseis flushed crimson, biting her lower lip. "I... I wasn't myself..."

"Indeed, you weren't," Astynome agreed, her expression softening. "And you still aren't."

Briseis' strange urges had been growing worse, worrying everyone around her. The changes in her behavior, the sudden waves of uncontrollable desire, and the erratic moments where she seemed almost possessed—none of it was normal. Before she could take on any important role, Astynome needed to ensure she could control these impulses. Otherwise, it would only bring more problems.

Briseis fell silent, unable to find a response.

Instead, her mind drifted back to that night, replaying the scene over and over again.

Hesitantly, she spoke. "Do you think he sees me as a beast now?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, fear laced in every syllable. The thought of having given Nathan such a terrible impression made her stomach twist in knots.

Astynome burst into laughter. "So that's why you've been avoiding him all this time? You're scared he thinks you're some lust-crazed monster?"

"Astynome!" Briseis protested, her face burning even hotter.

But Astynome only laughed harder before shaking her head. "You have nothing to worry about when it comes to Nathan. He doesn't see you as a monster. If anything, he's worried about you. You should talk to him."

"I... I can't..." Briseis lowered her gaze. "Compared to his other women, I'm the worst. I'm nothing. Even you are more amazing than me... And he has Helen, the Queen, and his three knights. I don't stand a chance."

That gnawing inferiority had never left her. Ever since Agamemnon had defiled her in mind and body, she had felt unworthy. And when she looked at the powerful, beautiful, and accomplished women surrounding Nathan, she felt even smaller, even more tainted.

"Oh, for the gods' sake!" Astynome huffed. "Stop sulking and come with me!"

Before Briseis could react, Astynome grabbed her hand and, with surprising strength, began dragging her along.

"W-Wait! Astynome, what are you doing?!"

"I'm making you face him!" Astynome declared. "You need to speak to him, and I won't take no for an answer!"

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC337: Meeting at Tenebria (1)

Semiramis nodded, her crimson eyes darkening with urgency. "Yes, and a more pressing one than before, Lord Commander," she affirmed. "Please follow me. Everyone is already gathered and waiting for the meeting."

Nathan's sharp gaze settled on Semiramis as he gave a subtle nod. He had long grown accustomed to the constant turmoil that brewed within the heart of any kingdom. There were always problems—schemes, betrayals, and power struggles lurking beneath the surface. However, the tone of Semiramis's voice carried a weight that was different this time, more solemn, more urgent.

"Let me take a shower first," Nathan stated, his voice calm but decisive as he turned toward the bath.

"I… I will come as well," Azariah murmured, attempting to rise despite her trembling legs. The aftereffects of their passionate sex still lingered in her body, leaving her barely able to stand.

Nathan cast her a knowing look, amusement flickering in his eyes. "If you bathe with me, I will definitely fuck you again. Stay here and rest. I'll handle this."

Azariah pouted, clearly reluctant to be left behind, but in the end, she relented, slumping back into the plush bed with a satisfied smile playing on her lips. The glow of pleasure still lingered in her expression, and though she sulked, she did not push further.

Nathan made his way to the bath, allowing the warm water to wash away the fatigue from his body. As the steam rose around him, his mind wandered, processing the weight of Semiramis's words. Something serious had happened. He could feel it.

After refreshing himself, he donned attire befitting his status—an immaculate, dark surcoat embroidered with intricate silver patterns, signifying his rank as Lord Commander. He fastened his belt and adjusted his cloak before stepping out, his presence now carrying the full weight of authority. Without wasting another moment, he turned to Semiramis, his voice firm and demanding.

"What's going on? How serious is it?"

Semiramis's expression remained composed, yet her amber eyes flickered with a hint of tension. "It concerns the Empire of Light… and a town within Tenebria. It has been attacked."

She offered no further explanation, but the gravity of her words was clear. Nathan wasted no time. Without hesitation, he strode toward the meeting room, his pace swift and purposeful.

As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the past. Two long years had passed since he arrived in this world, and several months had slipped by since the end of the Trojan War. The battlefield had long been cleared, and the echoes of war had begun to fade, but the world had not remained stagnant. Changes had come—some expected, others far more shocking.

The most astonishing of them all? Nancy had been crowned Empress.

Nathan's face darkened.

He did not take the news well—far from it.

To him, Nancy was, without a doubt, the most insufferable, manipulative woman to ever exist. The very idea of her sitting on a throne, wielding authority, made his blood boil. If she had been given power, it could only mean one thing—the Divine Knights had orchestrated this move, and Nathan had no doubt that the previous Emperor's so-called 'illness' was nothing more than a carefully executed assassination.

Not that he cared about that useless Emperor. His death meant little to Nathan. But what truly disturbed him was the fate of those left behind.

His thoughts drifted toward Helena and Adelia. They were not yet close enough for him to consider them as his women, but with Nancy as Empress, their lives were now in peril. He knew exactly what kind of woman she was. Even back in high school, she had been ruthless—crushing anyone who threatened her, tearing them apart psychologically until they were nothing but broken remnants of their former selves.

Nathan had resisted her back then.

But this time, Nancy held the power of an Empress.

And that made all the difference.

Nathan's thoughts remained fixated on the women he cared about most—his stepsisters, Amelia, Aisha, and Courtney.

But above all, his mind lingered on Aisha.

"She should have given birth by now," he mused inwardly, his expression darkening with concern. Just a week ago, he had received a secret letter from Aisha, informing him that she was on the verge of giving birth. She had written that it would only be a matter of days.

Regret gnawed at him. He should have been there. He wanted to be there. But the Empire of Light had reinforced its security to an extreme degree, making any attempt to reach them nearly impossible without brute force.

Nathan had no intention of taking reckless risks where his loved ones were concerned. Not until he was absolutely certain he could crush all opposition and extract them safely. It required patience—an immense amount of it—but he was willing to wait.

Eventually, Nathan and Semiramis arrived at the meeting room. As the heavy doors swung open, revealing the grand chamber within, it became apparent that everyone was already present.

The moment Nathan stepped inside, every figure in the room rose to their feet in silent acknowledgment of his authority.

Among those gathered were the familiar Demon Commanders.

Kratos, the Vice-Commander.

Laguna and Kragen stood at attention as well.

The aged and wise advisor, Cadell, observed him keenly from his place at the table.

Among them, Kratos and Megara had once been the most resistant to Nathan's appointment as Lord Commander. They had doubted his worth, questioned his strength, and resisted his authority. But now? Now, their eyes held only unwavering respect for the man before them.

Since his resounding victory over the Heroes of Kastoria, his sheer dominance on the battlefield, and the sweeping reforms he had enacted, Nathan's leadership had proven to be nothing short of legendary. His nomination had not only been justified—it had been transformative.

Under his command, Tenebria had risen from the shadows of uncertainty and reclaimed its position as a true powerhouse. The surrounding kingdoms no longer viewed Tenebria as a fractured land of exiles and remnants. No, they now regarded it with caution, with wariness, with fear.

The Hero of Darkness had ensured that.

Kratos, once one of his fiercest skeptics, could now only bow his head in deference. Megara followed suit, as did the others. The change was undeniable.

And then there was his presence—his sheer, overwhelming presence. Since returning from his secret journey, Nathan had emerged with an aura unlike anything they had ever witnessed. He exuded raw, unfathomable strength, a power so immense that it sent shivers down their spines.

The last time Kratos had encountered such an overwhelming force… was in the presence of the previous Demon King.

The meeting room held not only familiar faces but also new ones—among them, two former queens from distant lands.

Helen of Sparta sat gracefully, her posture regal yet relaxed. Beside her, her sister Clytemnestra, once the Queen of Mycenae, regarded the room with sharp, calculating eyes. Both women had become integral members of Tenebria's inner circle, their keen minds proving invaluable in matters of governance and economic strategy.

Azariah had personally granted them these roles after recognizing their talents in handling the kingdom's economy. They were brilliant, shrewd, and most importantly, Nathan trusted them. That alone was enough for Azariah to place her faith in them as well.

"You certainly took your time, Lord Commander," Clytemnestra remarked, her voice carrying a hint of suspicion.

Nathan, ever shameless, smirked. "I was discussing important matters with the Queen."

Helen sighed, an exasperated but knowing smile playing on her lips. Everyone in the room understood what those "important matters" entailed. None were naive enough to believe otherwise. The relationship between their Lord Commander and Queen Azariah was well known, but truthfully, no one minded. If there was any man deserving of the queen, it was certainly Nathan—a man who, in their eyes, had transcended humanity itself.

"Important matters, hmm?" Clytemnestra narrowed her eyes slightly, her irritation evident.

Helen glanced at her sister and shook her head with a quiet sigh. It wasn't difficult to understand Clytemnestra's feelings toward Nathan at this point. But she was reluctant to admit them, and Nathan—well, Nathan was in no hurry. He found it far more amusing to simply wait, watching her struggle with emotions she refused to acknowledge.

Another woman in the room who wasn't particularly thrilled by the exchange was Megara.

Her gaze flickered from one woman to the next, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Why is it that every woman around me either wants to sleep with him or already is?" she inwardly fumed.

It was baffling. Even the stoic and enigmatic Semiramis had succumbed to whatever spell Nathan seemed to cast over women.

Megara begrudgingly admitted that there was something undeniably magnetic about him. His presence alone was intoxicating. And ever since his return, it had only grown stronger. Of course, nobody knew that Aphrodite's Divine-Rank Skill had been bestowed upon him, a power that acted more like a passive ability, amplifying his natural charm to an almost unbearable degree.

Nathan kept it restrained, but even in its subdued form, it was enough to send the hearts and heads of countless women spinning.

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I ENSLAVED THE GODDESS WHO SUMMONED MEC338: Meeting at Tenebria (2)

"Let's focus on the meeting," Kratos said, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him as he brought everyone's attention back to the true purpose of their gathering. Despite his commanding tone, there was no denying that he felt out of place—surrounded by women who, rather than discussing war, were engaged in an unspoken battle of their own. Their gazes flickered toward Nathan, some filled with admiration, others laced with jealousy and quiet rivalry. It was an almost suffocating air of competition, one Kratos had no interest in being a part of.

At his words, the murmurs ceased, and all present nodded in agreement.

"First," Kratos continued, his piercing gaze sweeping across the room, "we have received confirmation that the Heroes of the Empire of Light have indeed made contact with the Heroes of the Empire of Ra. Not only have they met, but they also visited their lands. It is highly likely that an alliance has been formed between them."

Silence followed his words, heavy with the weight of what this meant.

"The Empire of Light..." Kragen exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "They truly don't know when to give up, do they?"

"They're obsessed," Megara added, crossing her arms. "At this point, it's more than just a war—they see our very existence as an affront to them."

Of all the nations that harbored resentment toward Tenebria, the Empire of Light was, without a doubt, the most relentless. Their hatred was not merely political or strategic; it was deeply personal. For centuries, they had clung to the notion of eradicating Tenebria from existence, convinced that their so-called 'righteous cause' was the will of the gods.

"It can't be helped," Cadell said with a smirk, a knowing glint in his eyes. "The Lord Commander's presence only fuels their paranoia."

A low murmur of agreement passed through the gathered warriors. That much was undeniable.

The Empire of Light had always regarded Tenebria as a looming threat, fearing that the Demon King's forces were simply biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But then Nathan had appeared. His existence alone had shaken the foundations of their beliefs, turning their wariness into full-blown fear. Now, their desperation had reached new heights.

"They will likely be ready to launch a full-scale attack by next year," Clytemnestra stated, her tone even yet carrying an undeniable weight of certainty. "And this time, it won't be a reckless assault. They will come prepared—with an army vast enough to shake the continent."

She leaned forward slightly, her crimson eyes gleaming under the dim candlelight. "The Empire of Ra is known to possess one of the most formidable military forces in the world. If they've joined hands with the Empire of Light, we must prepare for the worst."

Nathan furrowed his brows. "I thought the Empire of Ra was maintaining a neutral stance in the war against Tenebria," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"They were," Helen replied, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the wooden table. "Under their previous ruler, Pharaoh Amenhotep, they remained cautious, unwilling to involve themselves in conflicts that did not directly concern them. But he is dead now."

A hush fell over the room.

"His eldest son has taken the throne," she continued. "A boy of barely fourteen."

Nathan's expression darkened. "A child?"

"Yes, and a child who has little understanding of war," Helen mused. "But that does not mean he is defenseless. He is surrounded by advisors—powerful, intelligent figures who guide his every decision. That is why this alliance is so troubling. Someone must have convinced them that siding with the Empire of Light is in their best interest."

Her voice took on a thoughtful edge. "The question is... what was promised to them in return?"

A heavy silence settled over the gathering.

Despite their vast intelligence network, they had no clear understanding of how the Empire of Light had managed to convince the Empire of Ra to join their cause. Ra had always maintained a careful neutrality in continental conflicts, preferring to guard their own interests rather than be drawn into a war that did not concern them. And yet, somehow, they had aligned themselves with the one nation most determined to see Tenebria's destruction.

It was a troubling development, one that raised more questions than answers.

"Then why don't we do the same?" Kragen spoke up, his voice carrying an air of defiance. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "If they're gathering allies, then we should respond in kind. Let's mirror their strategy and start securing alliances of our own."

"There is some truth in that," Megara admitted. "We've already taken steps in that direction. Kastoria has recently become an official ally of Tenebria. We've even established trade agreements with them, which is a promising start."

She paused before continuing, casting a pointed glance at Nathan. "But our strongest ally, without question, is the Trojan Empire."

Nathan met her gaze with calm indifference, already aware of where this conversation was leading.

"Kassandra promised to discuss the matter," he said, his tone even. "But I'm not going to demand too much from them."

His statement carried weight. The alliance between Troy and Tenebria was no secret; in fact, it had been cemented in the most public way possible. The world had watched as Nathan, the Lord Commander of Tenebria, wed Kassandra, the Princess of Troy, mere months ago. The marriage had sent shockwaves throughout the continent, signaling to all nations that Troy was standing firmly by Tenebria's side.

By all rights, Kassandra should have been in Tenebria with Nathan now, but she was dividing her time between Troy and Tenebria for a crucial reason—one that Nathan himself had insisted upon. She was carrying his child.

For now, she remained in Troy, as Nathan had personally requested. Though she had promised to advocate for Tenebria, Nathan did not expect more from them. The Trojan War had left their kingdom battered and exhausted. They needed time to heal, not another call to arms.

"I've already sent word to Hector," Nathan added, his voice steady. "I told him that it isn't necessary. Troy has suffered enough—physically, mentally. We can't expect them to raise an army for us so soon. When the time comes, we'll see what support they can offer, but for now, they need to focus on their own recovery."

Megara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Then we won't rely on Troy. But let's be realistic here. Tenebria cannot fight this war alone. The Empire of Light already possesses a larger army than both Tenebria and Kastoria combined. If they truly have the Empire of Ra on their side, it's even worse. They'll surround us, cut off our resources, and grind us down until there's nothing left."

A grim silence settled over the room as the weight of her words sank in.

"What about the other kingdoms that have remained neutral so far?" Nathan asked, turning toward Clytemnestra. His mind was already working through the possibilities. "Are any of them potential allies?"

Clytemnestra took a moment to consider before responding. "Babylonia?" she said with a scoff. "They don't even acknowledge demons as worthy adversaries, let alone consider an alliance with us."

"Then Eldorath?" Nathan pressed.

Kratos answered this time, his tone flat. "They don't care for demons either. If anything, they look down on us just as much as the Empire of Light does." He exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Those two are the closest and strongest options available. But if we're willing to cast a wider net, we may need to look beyond this continent."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "You mean seek alliances overseas?"

Kratos nodded. "There are other kingdoms, smaller ones, that might be persuaded to join us. However, if we want true power—armies that can stand against the Empire of Light and the Empire of Ra—we will have to look farther. The great empires of the western continent, the island nations beyond the Celestial Sea… there are forces out there, but whether they'll involve themselves in this war is another matter entirely."

Nathan sat back in thought. The war was no longer a distant threat—it was coming. And unless they acted now, they might not be ready to meet it when it arrived.

Helen's voice cut through the tense silence. "What should we do then?" she asked, her gaze shifting toward Nathan.

As if on cue, the entire room followed her lead. All eyes landed on Nathan, waiting for his response. He was the one with the highest authority here—the one whose decisions carried the most weight.

Yet, Nathan did not answer immediately. Instead, he remained silent, his expression unreadable as he tapped a finger against the polished wooden table. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his features.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"What was the other problem?" he asked abruptly, completely changing the subject.

Kratos blinked in confusion. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, unsure if Nathan had misunderstood the gravity of the situation.

"Lord Commander—" he began, but before he could finish, Nathan cast him a pointed look. It was subtle but firm, a silent command that said: Hurry up and report.

Kratos swallowed his initial protest and obeyed.

"Breistan," he said, his voice regaining its composure. "A great city to the east. A few days ago, it came under attack." He paused for a moment before adding, "By a single person."

Nathan barely reacted. He rested his chin on his hand, fingers drumming idly against the table. "And?"

Kratos exhaled. "The attacker was Human."

That earned a slight raise of Nathan's brow, though more out of mild curiosity than concern. "Which kingdom?" he asked, already sounding bored. He had been expecting something more—something interesting.

Kratos, however, shook his head. "We don't know."

That made Nathan pause. His fingers stopped their rhythmic tapping as he slowly turned his full attention to Kratos.

"We don't know?" he echoed, his voice laced with skepticism. "Are you telling me a Human launched an attack on one of the largest cities in the east, and yet no one can trace where they came from?"

Kratos's expression was grim. He held Nathan's gaze before answering.

"By the way," he said, his voice carefully measured, "he called himself a Hero of the Empire of Light."

Nathan's eyes narrowed slightly.

Kratos continued. "He also claimed to be part of the Second Batch of Summoning."

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