"WAIT! PLEASE, WAIT!" Graaz shrieked, nearly choking on his own tongue as he saw the spears hurtling toward one of the goblins.
With a quiet whistle, the first ice spear shot from her hand, slamming with momentum into the ground just inches from the head of one of the cowering village elders. Shards of ice grazed the goblin's green skin, and he wailed in terror.
Seeing that Lilith was watching him in silence and Lysandra was already forming another projectile, Graaz quickly finished his plea. "I have a proposal! Something far more valuable to the Great Lady than our wretched lives! Do not kill us, and I will make this village... I will make us your most loyal servants!"
Lilith slowly bowed her head, her scarlet eyes flashing with an inhuman, cold amusement. In that same second, the aura around her ceased to be merely a weight - it became an icy vise. Graaz felt the frost penetrate his skin, freezing the blood in his veins and making every breath in his imagination sear his lungs like swallowing crushed glass.
She looked down at him as if he were a particularly disgusting ant that had just dared to step on her boot.
"Truly?" Her voice was quiet, but it carried such a dose of contempt that Graaz felt his very soul shrink with shame. "Do you truly believe a being of my stature has need of such wretched, carrion-stench creatures as servants? My territory is guarded by an army that knows no fear, requires no food, and never questions an order. What could you, weak and cowardly goblins, offer me that I do not already possess?"
She snorted, and the gust from her wings kicked up clouds of dust, throwing Graaz to the ground.
"You are a mistake of this forest. The only reason you are still breathing is my fleeting curiosity to see how low you can crawl."
Graaz felt that this was the end. The vision of ice spears tearing through the bodies of his children and grandchildren caused a pure, desperate urge for survival to explode in his old heart. He began to strike his forehead against the ground, time and again, ignoring the pain and the blood streaming down his nose.
"I know! I know we are nothing!" he roared, choking on his own saliva. "Our blood is thin, our bodies are weak, and our minds are simple! We are the lowest of the low, the dung beneath Your Highness's feet! But... but even dung has its use!"
He lifted his face for a moment, a frantic survival instinct burning in his eyes.
"You do not need us for battle, Great Lady! We know your soldiers are invincible! But... but they cannot build roads! They cannot till the soil, gather rare herbs from the Canyon of Courage, or mine ores from the deep crevices where only a small goblin can squeeze! We can be your porters, your moles in the earth, your livestock! We will work until we drop, without sun or rest, if only you let us endure in the shadow of your power!"
He clasped his hands in a pleading gesture, demeaning his race more than anyone ever had before.
"We will be your tools, the ones you won't mind breaking! Please... give us a chance to prove that these wretched hands can bring you more use than their execution!"
Lilith stood motionless, allowing the heavy silence and the freezing aura to gnaw at the minds of the gathered goblins. She shifted her gaze to Lysandra, who nodded with a predatory, almost fond smile.
Lilith snorted, tossing her hair back, and her voice became so sharp that Graaz cowered as if lashed by a whip.
"Since you desire so much to be the fertilizer beneath my feet, so be it," she spat with icy cruelty. "Your pathetic lives are not worth even the energy my subordinate would expend to slaughter you. If your hands can scratch even one lump of food from the earth, then that will be the sole reason I allow you to continue breathing the same air as I. Serve me until your bodies turn to dust, worms."
Hearing that the execution had been stayed, Graaz felt a sudden surge of mad euphoria.
"Thank you! Thank you, Great Lady! We will..." he began with excitement, lifting his face from the dirt to look toward his new ruler.
He didn't even manage to make eye contact. Lysandra moved with the speed of lightning. Before the old goblin could blink, her hand slammed into the back of his head, driving him back into the mud with a crash. A wet crack of breaking cartilage rang out - Graaz's nose shattered against a stone, and blood immediately stained the earth.
"How dare you raise your eyes to your Monarch, filth?!" Lysandra's roar shook the village.
The succubus placed her foot on the back of Graaz's head, pinning him to the ground with inhuman force. "Do you know your place? Your place is in the dust, at her feet. You are not worthy to look even upon her shadow, let alone into her eyes."
Lilith watched the scene with a stony face, but after a moment, she felt Lysandra starting to get carried away by her own sadism. She reached out a hand and placed it on her commander's shoulder, squeezing lightly.
"Easy, Lysandra. That is enough," she said in a composed but firm voice.
Lysandra flinched and turned her head, the heat of battle-frenzy still burning in her eyes. "But Lilith... this refuse violated etiquette! He must be punished, otherwise others..." she began feverishly.
Lilith silenced her with a single, icy glare. Her eyes flashed so dangerously that even Lysandra felt a shiver down her back. "Enough," Lilith repeated.
The succubus immediately cast her gaze down, her murderous aura evaporating in a fraction of a second. "Yes, My Lady. Forgive me," she murmured, removing her foot from the old man's head and retreating two steps behind Lilith's back.
Lilith looked at Graaz, who was slowly, trembling all over, trying to push himself up. For a moment, she wanted to apologize for her subordinate's brutality - after all, deep down she still had human instincts - but she quickly suppressed the thought. A Demon King does not apologize to her tools.
The goblin straightened as much as his broken ribs and shattered nose allowed, but he no longer dared to lift his gaze above Lilith's knees. His face was a mask of blood and pain, and yet, to everyone's surprise, he choked out a quiet:
"T-thank you... thank you for this lesson, Great Lady... thank you for your mercy..."
There was not a trace of rebellion in him. He was completely broken, grateful for the mere fact that he could still feel pain, because it meant he was still alive. He bowed so low that his mangled face almost touched Lilith's feet.
As Lilith looked at the battered Graaz, a bright system window suddenly flared before her eyes, casting a blue glow over her demonic face.
[Congratulations! You have conquered a goblin village without total extermination!]
[Reward: Black Iron Treasure Chest x1!]
[Status: 147 goblins have sworn an oath of fealty to you. Do you wish to accept them as your vassals?]
Lilith froze for a moment, surprised by the directness of the system. She hadn't expected that brutal intimidation would be cataloged so quickly as an official conquest. She hesitated for a moment, looking at these wretched green creatures, but after a quick calculation, she slowly nodded, confirming the choice in the interface.
For a Demon King who still lacked advanced structures to summon more powerful demons, every pair of working hands was worth their weight in gold. Though the skeletons were loyal and durable, they lacked the spark of intelligence and the capacity for craftsmanship that the nest's development required.
Lilith and Lysandra exchanged a telling glance. Both knew that loyalty won through force and fear is as fragile as spring ice. These goblins, as soon as they felt a weakness in their new Lady or found an opportunity to escape, would vanish into the thicket of the Forest of Eternal Chaos without hesitation. However, at this moment, Lilith had no other choice - she had to take the risk.
True expansion and empire-building required diversity. Vassal races, even ones as primitive as goblins, brought new possibilities to the territory: gathering, primitive agriculture, knowledge of local trails, and the ability to extract resources.
What do I need a gargantuan territory and the title of Monarch for, if only three succubi and a pile of walking bones live on my lands? – Lilith thought, squaring her shoulders.
To create a true power that would challenge the kingdoms of men and their "Order of Anti-Demon Knights," she needed structure. She needed subjects who would build the foundations of her glory, while she and her succubi became the blade that would pierce the hearts of Heroes.
"Rise, Graaz," Lilith said, her voice, while still cool, losing its murderous edge. "Your village belongs to me now. From this moment, every breath you take and every ounce of your sweat belongs to me!"
Graaz, choking on blood from his broken nose, babbled more thanks, while a heavy, black iron-clad chest materialized in Lilith's inventory.