Within the Regency Hall of the royal palace, crisscrossing columns of light poured down from the wall lamps, illuminating this ancient Demon World palace.
On the elevated platform opposite the seats of the nobles and civil officials quietly rested the princess’s throne, and not far from the throne stood Fallen Lord Calila.
Princess Hyperion sat quietly next to Calila, then remained silent.
It was quite apparent that today, the Fallen Lord was the true speaker.
The other mbers of the Demon Race in the seats, revering the Fallen Lord, now showed respect to Hyperion as well.
Her performance a week before had indeed left the Demon Race unable to see through her.
All mbers of the Demon Race were careful to avoid provoking her displeasure.
As the current ruler of the Demon World, and also the only Ninth-order civil official apart from the generals of the first and second Army Groups, Calila’s re presence emitted an aura that made the other Demon Race mbers feel fear.
A faint smile appeared on her face, yet there was not much interest in her eyes.
Today she was simply responsible for ensuring that the ceremony proceeded smoothly according to the rules. If everything went well, she wouldn’t take any action, but if anyone dared to violate the rules of the Demon World, she would assuredly obliterate them.
Hyperion looked to the other side of the council hall where, on the fan-shaped seats, the elites of the Demon World continuously made their entrance.
In the far-right direction swept by her gaze, Lanci, like the star at the center of a constellation, conversed with the Demon Race mbers who knew him.
Hyperion did not understand.
How did this guy manage, every ti he arrived in a new environnt, to beco the core character in just a few short days, perfectly integrating himself?
If it weren’t for the fact that Lanci was a man, Hyperion would have suspected that he was the true princess adored by the Demon Race—the enchanting princess.
It was not until a little later.
The Demon Race mbers surrounding Lanci gradually dispersed, and a figure walking straight towards him seed to divide both the atmosphere and the Demon Race.
The Demon Race mber had fiery, deep brown eyes and hair. Tall and well-dressed, he carried himself with the sa propriety as a Knight.
The Nobility of Demon World, who had been socializing with Lanci, tactfully made space, not disturbing the private conversation between this Great Demon Clan general and McCarthy.
"My friend, you’ve arrived so early," said Lord Raeming Gareth, moving forward to take a seat beside Lanci.
At this mont, Lord Raeming and McCarthy were seated at the furthest right of the fan-shaped seating area, closer to the princess’s throne, while confidants of the Fallen Lord like Mist Sir and True Night Sir sat on the leftmost side of the fan-shaped seats, also near the princess’s throne.
Only the Blood Clan delegation in the very center of the fan-shaped seating was facing the throne and at the farthest distance from it.
"Gareth, do you like that much? The mont you co, you find ," said Lanci, with a brimming smile, gazing at the Great Demon Clan’s Lord Raeming beside him.
"Yes," said Lord Raeming, sitting up straight with his hands on his knees, nodding seriously and respectfully without minding McCarthy’s jest.
Ever since his cousin Tia introduced him last ti, he had gotten to know this Demon Race rchant.
Possibly because they were both rare Demons of the thunder and light attributes, he naturally felt a close kinship with this Demon Race mber, and of course, he very much admired him.
In this greedy and corrupt Demon World, Lord Raeming had seen too many nobles dominated by interest and power. Once a war broke out, they would inevitably drag down the front lines from the rear.
Lord Raeming was certain that the final battle between the Demon World and the Blood Clan was just a matter of ti.
Having personally experienced the first great war with the Blood Clan and as a survivor, Lord Raeming knew all too well how ambitious those mbers of the Blood Clan were. The peace talks with the Blood Clan were only for waiting for an opportunity.
Initially, Lord Raeming had braced himself to et with the rchant McCarthy, seeking to secure future support for their Nokta Family and the Sixth Army Group.
He did not expect to et a mber of the Demon Race like McCarthy, who held a high position yet still maintained his true heart, not swallowed by desire.
The other seemingly also was a Demon Race mber who had survived the wars. They talked about the Blood Clan’s conspiracies many years ago, about the battlefield’s smoke and unresolved anger, about the current situation on the northern continent.
Lord Raeming felt as if he had found a kindred spirit.
As the general of the Demon World’s Sixth Army Group, he seldom t an aggressive Demon Race tycoon like McCarthy.
They shared a common dream of the Demon World and an unshakable enemy.
Lord Raeming Gareth thought to himself, gradually looking toward the grand hall’s farthest end from the throne, the section facing the throne occupied by the Blood Clan delegation.
Apart from a few Blood Clan Barons and Viscounts who followed, the one leading was the Ancestor of the Blood Clan.
Sitting at the forefront, the Blood Clan mber had white long hair and eyes like rubies, bright and restrained, seemingly desiring nothing.
Unlike other Blood Clan mbers, he did not seem dangerous at all; his very existence was like a naturally ford piece of art.
At this mont, the Ancestor of the Blood Clan, who had also noticed Lord Raeming’s gaze, returned a warm and courteous smile.
"Ancestor Ulysses’s power, ’Blood Creation,’ allows the creations from his quill to take form for a short ti, enabling him to quickly produce a large number of Summons depending on the situation, not easy to deal with," Lord Raeming said, with a hint of antagonism in his gaze as he watched the Ancestor, before swiftly looking away. Turning to Lanci by his side, he added,
"What’s more critical, that look in his eyes is very special; being enemies with him would perhaps be very troubleso."
With a slight frown, Lord Raeming evaluated the Tenth Ancestor, destined to beco an enemy of their Demon Race.
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