The Demon Palace was a cathedral of shadows.
High vaulted ceilings arched overhead, carved with scenes of ancient battles between demons and mortals. Black stone pillars rose like obsidian trees, wrapped in silver chains that gleamed under the eerie green fire of enchanted braziers. Rows upon rows of nobles filled the grand hall, their wings folded neatly, their eyes glowing with suspicion, hunger, and disdain.
At the center of it all, on a raised dais carved from black marble, stood the throne of the Demon Queen.
And directly before it—kneeling in chains—was Ethan.
"This," one noble snarled, his voice carrying across the chamber, "is an outrage! A mortal in our sacred court? A human, no less, in chains meant for criminals, yet still drawing breath? Your Majesty, you shame us by letting him live!"
Another noble, a tall demoness with emerald scales curling down her arms, hissed, "It is weakness. Humans are our enemies. For centuries, their kings have sent paladins and priests to slaughter our kin. And now you harbor one in your dungeons? What message does that send?"
The hall erupted with voices, each more venomous than the last. "Kill him!" "Make an example!" "Burn the mortal!"
Ethan swallowed hard. "Wow. Tough crowd."
The guards flanking him jabbed their spears against his ribs, silencing him.
On her throne, Lilith sat as still as a statue, her face unreadable. But her crimson eyes burned brighter with every shouted insult. She raised one delicate hand, and the hall immediately fell silent.
"This mortal," she said, her voice calm but edged with steel, "trespassed into my sanctum. That much is true. By law, he should be destroyed where he stands."
A satisfied murmur rippled through the court. Ethan winced.
"And yet," Lilith continued, her voice rising, "he lives. Because I will it so."
The silence that followed was heavier than any shout. Dozens of eyes fixed on her, disbelief and outrage simmering behind them.
"Your Majesty—" one noble began, only to falter as Lilith's gaze cut to him, sharp as a blade.
"You question my will?" she asked softly.
The noble paled and sank back into his seat.
Lilith rose slowly from the throne, her gown trailing behind her like liquid shadow. She descended the steps with regal grace, her gaze never leaving Ethan.
"You all wonder why," she said, her voice carrying like thunder. "Why I spare this one human when so many have perished by my hand. I will tell you."
She stopped in front of Ethan, close enough that he could see his reflection in her crimson eyes.
"Because he is… amusing."
A shocked ripple tore through the hall. Murmurs erupted—disbelief, outrage, confusion.
Ethan nearly toppled over. "Amusing? That's it?!"
A guard smacked the back of his head with a spear.
Lilith's gaze flickered—just briefly—to his, as if warning him to keep quiet. Then she turned back to the nobles.
"For centuries, humans have come to us armed with blades and holy fire. They have fought us, cursed us, tried to erase us. But this one…" She gestured to Ethan with a sweep of her hand. "He stumbled into our realm unarmed, unprepared… and unafraid."
"Unafraid?" Ethan whispered. "Lady, I've been afraid this entire time—"
The guard jabbed him again.
"Perhaps it is foolishness," Lilith continued. "Perhaps madness. But I find value in that madness. For once, I would see what comes of sparing the mouse instead of crushing it."
Her words carried across the chamber, daring anyone to challenge them.
The nobles muttered uneasily. Some looked enraged, others wary, still others calculating. The political undercurrent was clear even to Ethan: sparing him was more than mercy—it was a gamble, a statement, maybe even a power play.
Still, the murmurs grew louder, threatening to spiral out of control.
And that was when Ethan, in his infinite stupidity, opened his mouth.
"Uh, excuse me—hi. Human here."
Every eye in the hall snapped to him.
He immediately regretted everything.
"I just want to say," he stammered, sweating under the weight of a hundred demonic glares, "I really appreciate not being executed. Huge fan of that decision. And, um… I get that you all hate humans. Fair! We kind of suck sometimes. But, uh… if it helps, most humans hate me too. So technically, we're on the same side?"
Dead silence.
Ethan wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
Then, somewhere in the hall, a noble snorted. Another chuckled. And then, like cracks spreading through ice, laughter rippled through the chamber. Cruel, mocking laughter, but laughter nonetheless.
Lilith's eyes widened ever so slightly. Ethan had somehow turned their rage into amusement.
"See?" he said weakly. "I'm hilarious. Totally harmless. You should keep me around for morale."
More laughter. Not kind laughter, but enough to break the tension. Enough to make the nobles glance at one another and think: perhaps the mortal was less a threat and more… entertainment.
Lilith seized the moment.
"You see," she said coldly, "even in his weakness, he serves a purpose. He brings levity to our court. He makes even my most humorless generals laugh. That alone is reason enough to spare him."
The hall fell silent again, but this time the resistance had weakened. The nobles exchanged wary glances, their outrage dulled by reluctant amusement.
Lilith straightened, her aura flaring. "My decision is final. He lives. Question it again, and you question my crown."
No one dared speak after that.
The trial—execution—whatever it had been, was over.
The guards dragged Ethan to his feet, hauling him back toward the dungeon. As they passed through the hall, he caught sight of Selene lounging against a pillar, her lips curled in a sly smile. She winked at him before slipping away into the shadows.
When the doors closed behind him, Ethan let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Well," he muttered, "that went better than expected. Nobody killed me, nobody set me on fire. That's a win."
The guards rolled their eyes.
And far above, on her throne, Lilith sat with her chin resting on her hand, eyes narrowed in thought.
The mortal had embarrassed her. He had undermined her authority with his foolishness.
And yet…
When the nobles laughed, she had laughed too.