The forest surrounding the World Tree felt sacred and silent. For King Theron, Queen Lyra, Archmage Gideon, and Saintess Annelise, every step they took felt heavier than leading an army into battle. They were the four pillars of the world, yet at this mont, they felt like children about to face an omnipotent headmaster. The aura of tranquility radiating from the area around Elysia was so thick it felt oppressive, a peace so absolute it was threatening.
They found her exactly as the scouts had described: sitting gracefully by the edge of a clear stream, nestled between the giant roots of the World Tree. Her eyes were closed, and her expression was so peaceful she seed a part of nature itself. Her starry crown glistened softly under the shade of the leaves, and her intricate gown was spread upon the grass without a single stain. The scene was so beautiful and serene, a terrifying contrast to the title 'Ruler of Hell' that was attached to her.
King Theron stopped at what he felt was a respectful distance. "We must show our good intentions," he whispered to the others. "We cannot hold this discussion just standing on the ground. Gideon, could you…?"
Archmage Gideon understood and nodded. Preparing a proper eting space was the most basic form of respect in high-level diplomacy. With a confidence born from centuries of mastering magic, he raised his hand. "Of course, Your Majesty. A table of celestial wood and four chairs that—"
He began to chant a high-level creation spell. An intricate, brilliant blue magic circle started to form in the air before him. Mana particles from all over the forest began to gather, ready to coalesce into magnificent furniture. However, as the magic circle spun and approached the area around Elysia, sothing strange happened.
The magic circle flickered.
Its light dimd, then extinguished instantly as if blown out by a phantom wind. The mana that had been painstakingly gathered dispersed back into nature, leaving the Archmage with his hand raised in an awkward silence.
Gideon tried again, this ti with more power. The result was the sa. His magic died completely as soon as it entered a radius of several ters from Elysia. His usually calm face was now beaded with cold sweat. "I can't," he hissed, his voice filled with disbelief. "The area around her… it's like an absolute null-magic zone. Mana cannot be ford. It's as if… reality itself is rejecting my magic."
That discovery sent a new wave of shock through the delegation. This woman didn't have to do anything to demonstrate her power. Her re existence negated one of the greatest forces in their world.
Quickly, King Theron signaled to the elven guards waiting in the distance. Without magic, they were forced to use conventional ans. A few minutes later, a simple wooden table and four chairs were carefully placed by the stream, still at a safe distance. The scene was surreal: four of the world's most powerful figures setting up picnic furniture to speak with a single individual.
As the last chair was set, Elysia opened her eyes. Her clear blue gaze swept over them one by one, devoid of emotion, devoid of hostility. There was only a calm curiosity.
King Theron steeled himself to sit, followed by the others. He cleared his throat, trying to find his authoritative voice. "Greetings, Ruler Elysia von Silbernebel," he began, his voice sounding slightly more strained than he would have liked. "I am King Theron of the Elven Kingdom. We co in peace, with no ill intent."
Elysia simply looked at him, waiting. Her silence was more intimidating than a dragon's roar.
Feeling he had to continue quickly, Theron began to explain everything. He spoke with the eloquence of a king, explaining the ancient prophecy of the malevolent Demon Lord's awakening, of the destruction that would befall the world. He recounted the history of the slumbering Holy Sword, their only hope, and how it could only be awakened with a key forged from Crystal Amber—a material that existed only in Hell.
"Our world is on the brink of destruction," Theron said, his voice now filled with sincere desperation. "We co not as conquerors, but as desperate petitioners. We need the Crystal Amber from your domain."
Queen Lyra took over, her lodic voice attempting to soothe the atmosphere. "We do not ask for it for free, of course," she said quickly. "We are prepared to pay a worthy price, and more. We can offer gold from the deepest mountains of the Dwarves, legendary artifacts from the Elven Kingdom's treasury gathered over thousands of years. Archmage Gideon can grant access to the forbidden library in his magic tower. Saintess Annelise can bestow a holy blessing from the Holy See. Just na your price, Ruler Elysia. We will et it."
They laid all their cards on the table. They offered the greatest treasures, powers, and knowledge of their world. They waited with bated breath, hoping sothing—anything—could capture the interest of the woman before them.
Throughout their lengthy speeches, Elysia's expression did not change in the slightest. Inside her mind, an entirely different process was occurring.
Crystal Amber? she thought, trying to rember. The na was vaguely familiar. She sifted through her vast mories from 9000 years in Hell. Ah… that shiny yellow rock, right? The kind that's usually scattered all over the Fifth Circle? The stuff my patrol golems are always tripping over?
An absurd realization hit her. The thing they considered their world's last hope was, to her, nothing more than roadside gravel. This entire desperate plea and all these fantastic offers were for pebbles.
How was she supposed to respond to this? She didn't need gold; she had seen mountains of larger gems in the lairs of greed demons. She didn't need artifacts; she possessed an arsenal plundered from demon generals that could destroy a continent. She didn't need their knowledge; their "ancient" history of a few thousand years was but a blink of an eye to her.
She had no desires. Her world was now complete: peace and quiet.
Finally, she spoke. Her voice was clear and lodic, without accent or emotion, like the chiming of a crystal bell.
"So," she said slowly, breaking the tension. "You want so yellow stones."
The way she simplified their complex, world-ending problem into such a trivial sentence left the four world leaders stunned.
Elysia looked at them, her gaze a little more focused now. She saw the desperation in their eyes. She thought about her retirent. Maybe… there was one thing. Navigating this new life alone might be botherso. She didn't want to be disturbed by trivial matters. Perhaps she needed an assistant. A personal attendant. Soone to ensure her tranquility would never be broken.
An idea ford. Simple, practical, and born of her own laziness.
"Your treasures are aningless to ," Elysia said, her tone flat. "Your offer is insufficient, not because it lacks value, but because I lack desire."
The faces of the delegation fell. Their hope was extinguished.
"However…" she continued, making them look back at her with a flicker of hope. "This new life, this retirent, might require… an attendant. Soone to handle trivial matters so I do not have to."
She looked directly at King Theron. "I will give you your Crystal Amber. Not just a handful, I will give you a mountain of it. Enough to build a castle from, if you wish."
An incredible shock and joy flashed across their faces, but it lasted only a mont, because Elysia continued with her terms.
"In exchange," she said, her blue eyes now sweeping over Queen Lyra and Saintess Annelise, "one of you will beco my subordinate. To serve for the rest of her life."
She paused, letting the shocking condition sink in, before adding her final requirent with absolute calm.
"A woman."
The silence that followed those words was deeper and colder than any they had felt that day. They had co prepared to trade the wealth of a nation. They were never prepared to trade… a person. And among those present, there were only two won: a sovereign Queen and a Saintess who was a pillar of faith for millions. The price for the Ruler of Hell's peace was far more personal, and more terrifying, than they could have ever imagined.
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