One week later, in the imperial capital…
The great throne hall was filled with a tense silence. Empress Naira stood upright, her fingers interlaced over the golden back of the throne, every movement measured and elegant. Yet behind that composure, a calculating glimmer shone in her eyes.
At her side, the Heralds watched Lusian with cold, judging expressions, searching for the slightest excuse to accuse him.
Lusian entered heavily, each step as if he carried the weight of a broken world. The loss of Umber still burned inside his chest, a hollow that no victory could fill. His breathing remained steady, but Elizabeth's unconscious state sat like a knot in his stomach that refused to loosen.
Was she still herself… or had the darkness left its mark?
"Duke Lusian," Naira said softly, her voice almost a whisper that seemed to glide through the air, yet carried undeniable authority. "We have observed… your unusual effectiveness. Your methods… decisive. Intelligent. Even… admirable in their courage."
Her gaze never left him.
Lusian felt a faint chill.
There was something in the way she spoke—how she leaned ever so slightly toward him—that blended respect with something more restrained.
"However," she continued, her tone smoothing as it approached the edge of temptation, "one must wonder… how far a man like you can be contained."
She stepped closer.
Lusian noticed that the distance between them seemed to shrink by her own deliberate choice.
"Sometimes," she added quietly, "discipline requires… more personal methods."
The Heralds, however, made no effort to hide their disapproval.
One of them spoke, his voice as cold as ice.
"Duke, your indiscriminate use of force… your slaughter. How can we trust that you will not continue in the same manner? Every citizen killed could justify placing you on trial. Even the gods themselves might find reason to judge you."
Lusian clenched his fists. The memory of Umber and the blood-soaked ritual in the City of Peace pulsed in his chest.
He felt cornered.
An army under his command.
His princess lying unconscious.
And the possibility that darkness still lingered inside her.
Lusian remained calm. His dark eyes scanned the court with calculated coldness. Every word he spoke was deliberate.
"I did not act randomly," he said firmly, without raising his voice. "Every individual I eliminated had demonstrated loyalty to the demonic cult responsible for countless crimes. And tell me—was it not suspicious that an entire city remained untouched and never once asked for aid?"
"That… that cannot be verified," one adviser replied nervously. "How could you distinguish between citizens and cultists without undeniable proof?"
"Through their actions. Their marks. Their energy," Lusian replied. "Every decision I made was based on evidence that, apparently, your own court failed to gather. If you doubt my judgment, consider what would have happened had I waited for approval while the ritual continued."
The murmurs in the chamber grew louder.
Some guards looked uncomfortable. Others nodded quietly, recognizing the brutal logic in his words.
"Even so," said the Empress, a faint tremor in her voice betraying genuine concern, "your actions have broken laws, customs, and trust. Why should we believe you will not act the same way here—within our Empire—against our own people?"
Lusian remained silent for a few seconds, letting the weight of his presence fill the hall.
Then his gaze softened slightly as he thought of Elizabeth, still unconscious under his protection.
"Because my only goal," he said at last, his voice firm and sharp as steel, "is to protect those who cannot defend themselves, and to stop the spread of this demonic corruption before it destroys this world. If that means defying human laws… so be it. But I will not allow my princess—or this kingdom—to fall into the hands of those who despise life and light."
Silence filled the chamber.
Even the Heralds exchanged glances.
The Empress finally lowered her head slightly and exhaled.
"Then, Commander Lusian," she said, "until Elizabeth awakens and we can fully assess the situation… you will command the royal army. But understand this: every action you take will be observed and judged. We will not tolerate abuse or unjust executions within our borders."
Lusian inclined his head slightly, saying nothing more.
He knew the appointment was a double-edged sword.
Absolute authority.
Absolute scrutiny.
As he turned to leave, his mind was already calculating the next steps: locate the remaining cult bases, purge the corruption, and ensure that no demon—or human—ever harmed Elizabeth again.
But before he could depart, the Empress raised a hand.
She wished to speak with him in private.
"Then you are a man committed to extremes," Naira said calmly once the others had gone.
She still stood straight, hands resting lightly on the throne as if nothing in the world could shake her composure.
"Your efficiency… and your loyalty are exactly what we need in times like these."
She studied him carefully, measuring the mixture of fear, respect, and authority that radiated from him without effort.
"The Empire needs someone willing to protect what the gods have abandoned," she said. "And you… have proven that you can."
Her eyes locked onto his.
"There is a favor I must ask of you, Lusian."
They left the throne hall together.
Their footsteps echoed softly through the corridors as the evening sun turned the stone walls gold.
Eventually they stepped onto the elevated gardens overlooking the capital.
From there the entire city was visible—rooftops covered with new growth, flowers blooming between cracks, fruit hanging like threads of hope over a weary Empire.
Naira stopped near the edge of the terrace.
She did not look at him.
She looked at the city.
"There," she said quietly, pointing to a ruined tower now covered in white lilies. "That is where I stood the day my father died."
Lusian remained silent.
"I saw him defend this city with his own hands," she continued. "There were no Heralds. The gods did not answer. There were no heroes. And yet… he stayed."
Her voice was calm, but ancient pain lived within it.
"A massive magical beast had broken through the wall. He could have fled. Instead, he chose to die protecting what he loved."
Lusian glanced at her.
For the first time, he did not see an Empress.
He saw a daughter who had never truly been allowed to mourn.
"That day the world changed," she said quietly. "I went from being the child he guided… to a woman carrying an Empire collapsing beneath my feet."
Her fingers tightened around the stone railing.
"I have watched my lands weaken. I have watched the Heralds conspire to undermine me. I have watched my people begin to doubt me… and I could do nothing."
Finally, she looked at him.
There were no tears.
But the weight in her eyes was immeasurable.
"Perhaps there will be no Emperor after me."
Lusian nodded slowly.
He already knew the long designs of the gods.
Naira stepped closer.
Not seductively.
Not aggressively.
Simply with resolve.
"That is why I must ask you a favor, Lusian. One I cannot ask of anyone else."
"I must ensure the continuation of the Empire," she said plainly. "I need a strong heir—someone who does not depend on the whims of gods or fragile Heralds. Without one, the Empire will die."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle.
"I did not choose a hero for this," she continued. "Heroes may receive Divine Blessings and reach Omega-level power, but their children do not inherit it. True legacy lies in blood, not in divine favor."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You, Lusian, already possess a natural Epsilon-level affinity. Your descendants would inherit stable and powerful magical potential. No hero could offer that—no matter how blessed they are."
She took another breath.
"And politically, a noble heir with a full divine blessing would be impossible to control. I need stability and power bound naturally together."
Her voice softened slightly.
"You are that person."
Lusian clenched his teeth.
He understood exactly what she was asking.
Naira noticed.
"I do not ask for love," she said quietly.
"Nor loyalty. Nor your life."
"I ask only that my father's sacrifice not become meaningless. That this Empire does not vanish."
She stepped closer.
Not with desire.
With purpose.
"And in return… I will support you in anything you need. Troops. Artifacts. Gold."
Lusian lowered his gaze.
His heart burned—torn between the memory of Umber, the unconscious body of Elizabeth…
And the responsibility pressing down upon him.
Naira spoke again, almost in a whisper.
"I do not do this for myself, Lusian."
"I do it for everyone."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, heavy… but steady.
Naira exhaled softly.
"I will wait for your answer."