"Ah, leave that to me," I replied calmly, my tone confident yet relaxed. Then, in a quieter voice, I asked, "But first of all… didn't you get scolded, Milim?"
Milim often snuck into the Eterna Labyrinth whenever she managed to slip away from Frey's watchful eyes. She had been here until just yesterday, and her sudden appearance today was later than planned. I couldn't help but wonder if she'd been caught and lectured by Frey again.
"It—it's okay! I became self-aware that I'm a ruler, so I told Frey that I was… uh… protecting my borders!" Milim stammered, her voice lowering as she awkwardly fiddled with her hair. "She totally believed me! Probably…"
Her words came out fast and nervous, and the sweat forming on her forehead told me everything I needed to know. Frey wasn't someone easy to deceive. Her intuition was razor-sharp.
What Milim had been "protecting" wasn't her territory—it was the deeper floors of the Labyrinth I'd entrusted her to explore. If Frey ever found that out, I'd be in trouble too. Still, I decided to believe Milim for now. But if she did get caught, I already had my excuse ready—
I'd simply say it had nothing to do with me.
Just then, a calm yet commanding voice called out from behind Milim.
"Thank you for inviting us today. I sincerely apologize for being later than the scheduled
time," Frey said as she stepped forward with graceful authority. Her sharp amber eyes met mine, studying me with a knowing look. "Our Lord, Milim, had gone missing until this morning. It took quite some time to get her properly dressed for the occasion—"
"Ah, hahaha, so that's how it is," I cut in smoothly, offering her a reassuring smile. "No need to worry. Please, enjoy the evening at your leisure."
I could feel her gaze piercing right through me. I subtly averted my eyes, pretending to focus on the guests. If I were still in my divine form, such tells wouldn't exist—but as I was now, in human guise, my expressions were too revealing.
She was too perceptive.
Best not to make direct eye contact with someone like her.
Frey's expression softened. "I see. To be invited despite all the assistance you've provided to our new city… I'm deeply grateful, Atem-sama."
Her sincerity was genuine, and it washed away some of the tension between us. I responded with polite humility. "Think nothing of it. I only hope the dishes tonight suit your taste. Are there any ingredients you don't eat? There's a dish made with a rare bird—if that's an issue—"
I stopped too late.
The moment the word "bird" left my mouth, Frey froze.
"A… bird?" she repeated, her tone sweet but laced with frost.
A cold sweat ran down my neck. I immediately realized my mistake.
"Ah—"
"Did Atem-sama just imply that I am on the same level as a bird?" she asked, her smile unwavering yet terrifyingly cold.
"That… wasn't my intention," I said quickly, my voice steady but measured.
Her Twin Wings—those two silent, beautiful attendants—radiated killing intent so sharp it made the surrounding nobles tremble.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. I'd managed to insult a queen of the skies.
Then—
"Pfft… Hahahaha!" Karion burst out laughing, completely breaking the tension. "Amazing! Truly amazing, Atem! To actually treat Frey like a bird—this is priceless!"
"Hmm, even I couldn't pull that off," Milim said with genuine admiration, her eyes sparkling like she'd just witnessed something legendary.
Don't look at me like that, Milim. This isn't some heroic feat.
Frey's eye twitched. "What's so funny, Karion? And you too, Milim?"
The air turned heavy again. No, this was entirely my fault. I raised a hand to calm things down.
"No, it was just my bad manners. What I said was a slip of the tongue. I only wanted to ask if you dislike bird-based dishes—nothing more," I said earnestly, bowing slightly in apology.
Silence fell. Frey's sharp eyes softened, her lips curving into a faint, genuine smile.
"Huhu… how very fitting for you, Atem-sama," she said softly. "You're just as I expected. I knew you meant no insult, but I wanted to see how you would respond. This tells me much about you. Milim could learn a great deal from that composure."
So, that's what this was—she had used the moment to test me. Frey wasn't angry; she was gauging me. To see what kind of influence I had on Milim. Bowing immediately and taking responsibility was indeed the correct answer.
Milim had grown, but she still had her reckless streak. Frey must have wanted to see how I handled pressure, to ensure Milim was learning the right things from me.
I had misjudged Frey before. Beneath her intimidating exterior was a guardian who truly cared for Milim's growth.
Unfortunately for Karion, his laughter hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Well then," Frey said sweetly, turning to him with a smile too kind to be safe. "What about you, Karion? What was so funny?"
Her arm moved faster than sight.
Crack!
Her delicate hands clamped around Karion's head, and a terrifying pressure filled the air.
"W-wait! Ow, ow—ow! That hurts!" Karion yelled, his voice cracking.
Frey's arm shimmered faintly as her nails hardened and extended into metallic blades, embedding themselves lightly in Karion's scalp. Her strength was terrifying.
"Dangerous! Dangerous! I was wrong! I'm sorry! Please let go, Frey!!" Karion pleaded, thrashing helplessly.
His subordinates, the Beastketeers, didn't even move. Only Phobio looked panicked, unsure whether to intervene. The other two just looked on with pity—or maybe amusement.
I crossed my arms, watching the spectacle unfold with calm amusement.
"Did you see that, Milim?" Frey said as she continued applying pressure to Karion's head. "You must apologize when you make a mistake. That's the proper thing to do."
Milim nodded solemnly. "Hmm, okay. But before that, I'll make sure not to do anything that makes Frey angry."
"That's wise," I added with a faint grin. "Better to prevent the problem than to survive the punishment."
"Hey! Don't just stand there! Help me!" Karion shouted, still struggling.
Milim and I exchanged a glance and nodded in perfect agreement.
"Hey, wait—! Don't ignore me—Ow—ow-ow-ow—!"
His cries grew weaker, fading under the sound of Frey's tightening grip.
Milim and I quietly pledged to honor his sacrifice. Until Frey's temper cooled, there was nothing we could do but observe in silence.
The lesson was clear—
Even a Demon Lord should know when not to laugh.
The commotion had barely died down after Karion's "incident" with Frey when Shuna—ever graceful—took advantage of the moment.
"There, the extra orders are complete!" she said with a radiant smile, bringing out a new wave of dishes that drew cheers from the guests.
Ignoring Karion's pitiful sacrifice, we moved to our seats.
"That was cruel, Atem and Milim. Even after I begged for my life," Karion complained, rubbing his head.
"You survived, didn't you?" Milim said with a smirk.
"Yes. Besides," Atem replied, his voice calm yet edged with a hint of authority, "Frey wasn't serious. You're fortunate she didn't use her true strength."
Karion muttered something under his breath but quieted when Atem's crimson eyes flicked toward him.
The attention then shifted to Shuna's cooking. The round table was covered with plates of every color and aroma. Servants quickly began distributing the dishes to Milim's group, each plate more splendid than the last.
Milim leaned forward eagerly, eyes sparkling. "I'm counting on you, Shuna. Midley can be so picky—he expects food fit for the heavens!"
"Fufufu, I understand, Milim-sama," Shuna said warmly. "Please enjoy the meal."
But before anyone could take a bite, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Highly disagreeable, Lord Atem of Eterna," said Midley, his tone filled with disapproval. "To teach our Lady Milim such blasphemy…"
Atem's eyes narrowed slightly. Across the table, Hermes, another of Milim's attendants, gave a deep, apologetic bow, clearly mortified.
The nobles sitting nearby went silent, their gazes now locked on Atem and the arrogant emissary.
"Blasphemy, you say?" Atem repeated, his tone smooth, deep, and unsettlingly calm.
Midley straightened, emboldened by his own ignorance. "Hmph! To enjoy nature's bounty as it is—that is our sacred way. But this…" He gestured dramatically at the dishes. "To mash the potatoes, to drown the meat in some strange liquid—this is an insult! Pathetic!"
The room's temperature dropped. Shuna froze mid-step, her smile fading into a chillingly sweet expression.
Hermes immediately bowed lower. "I deeply apologize, Lord Atem! Midley means no disrespect—he simply—"
"Be silent, Hermes," Midley barked, ignoring him. "To corrupt our Lady's taste with these… abominations! You should be ashamed!"
For a moment, Atem said nothing. His expression was unreadable, carved in stone. Then, he slowly stood.
The shift was immediate. The air grew heavy. The faint light from the chandeliers flickered, and the sound of a thousand heartbeats filled the silence.
When Atem spoke again, his voice carried the weight of ancient kings.
"You speak of purity," he said, eyes glinting with gold. "Yet your ignorance soils the very meaning of reverence."
A deep hum began to resonate from his body, and golden markings—ancient and divine—flared across his arms and neck. The Pharaoh's aura.
Every soul in the hall froze.
The air shimmered as if time itself hesitated. The pressure radiating from Atem wasn't rage—it was authority. The kind that made mortals kneel without being told. Even Frey and Karion stiffened instinctively, their instincts screaming at them to stay still.
"Do you dare," Atem continued, his voice resonating through the chamber like an echo from eternity, "to raise your voice before me and call my hospitality blasphemy?"
Midley stumbled backward, his earlier pride melting into fear.
"I—I meant no offense, Lord Atem—"
"Then you will show it," Atem interrupted, his tone sharp as divine judgment. He raised a hand, and one of the plates floated toward Midley. The golden energy that carried it hummed softly, filled with power.
"Eat," Atem commanded. "If you find it unworthy, then your heart shall judge you for your arrogance."
No one dared breathe.
Midley trembled, but before he could protest, the plate settled before him. Under Atem's gaze, refusing was impossible. His hands shook as he picked up the fork and took a single bite.
The moment the food touched his tongue, his eyes widened.
"This… this flavor—"
Milim grinned. "Told you! Shuna's food is amazing!"
Atem crossed his arms, the golden light fading from his body. "Now," he said, tone calm once again, "you understand. Reverence does not mean rejection of creation—it means gratitude for what the world offers. Creation, refinement, transformation… that is the divine order."
Midley bowed low, his voice trembling. "Forgive me, Lord Atem. My arrogance was unfitting."
Hermes exhaled in relief. "Thank the heavens…"
Milim leaned over to Atem and whispered, "You looked so cool just now!"
Atem allowed himself a small, knowing smile. "Remember that, Milim. Power is not in raising your voice, but in making others listen when you do."
The hall slowly returned to motion. The tension had lifted, replaced by admiration and awe. Nobles whispered, guests resumed eating—but the reverence in their eyes lingered.
Karion, already halfway through his third serving, muttered, "Note to self—never piss off Atem."
Frey smirked faintly. "Wise choice."
And as Shuna's dishes continued to fill the tables, the feast of Eterna went on—under the quiet dominance of the Pharaoh King who needed no throne to rule.