Chapter 14: The Queen’s Expedition Plan

Silent Royal Court, Supreme Military Council Chamber.

The circular hall made of obsidian was so heavy and viscous that even the light felt dense, engulfed in absolute silence.

Six figures sat apart around the enormous round conference table.

Their breathing was nearly imperceptible, as if they themselves were part of this darkness.

The Pillars of the Empire of the Eternal Night, six Corona Grand Dukes.

Each possessed the immense power to single-handedly turn the tide of a large-scale battle.

Duke Bruch, responsible for military affairs, was broad-shouldered like a bear.

He assumed the queen would issue orders for a counterattack against the humans reinforcing the Bleeding Valley.

Duke Carmilla, in charge of diplomacy, was rehearsing all possible outcomes of a trade war with the Dwarf Kingdom in her mind.

They were all prepared.

The throne hung empty, yet its invisible pressure froze every speck of dust in the room.

Suddenly.

The space above the throne rippled like the surface of water.

Ophelia’s figure appeared out of thin air.

She sat down directly, her silver hair piled high, her expression icy as she looked down upon her subjects.

The six grand dukes rose simultaneously, their movements synchronized, one hand placed over their chests, bowing deeply.

“Your Majesty.”

Ophelia’s gaze swept over them, but she said nothing, merely lifting a hand casually.

The six grand dukes sat back down, their backs straighter than ever.

The thunderous decree about to fall would decide the empire’s future.

Yet the queen’s first words shattered the entire hall’s chain of logic.

“Sylvia is unhappy.”

Her voice was flat, as if stating a fact like “There is no moon tonight.”

The six grand dukes froze.

Every face was painted with the same enormous question mark.

What?

The little princess is unhappy?

What does this have to do with us old men who have lived for thousands of years?

At the highest level military council meeting?

One duke even instinctively reached to his ear, seriously doubting if he had misheard.

Ophelia ignored their stupefaction.

She raised her hand and lightly tapped the center of the conference table.

Hum—

A giant, three-dimensional star map formed from magic slowly unfolded above the table.

Every mountain, river, city, and ruin on the continent of Aindor was rendered in exquisite detail.

Ophelia’s slender fingertip traced across the star map.

***

Finally, it stopped on the brightest point deep within the continent.

“My daughter was once a knight here.”

“She may be longing for—”

The queen’s eyes landed on the text beside that point.

Starlight City, Exodar.

Capital of the Human Holy Alliance.

“Longing for the bells of the ‘Starlight Cathedral’ in the city.”

The hall fell into a silence deeper than eternal night.

The six grand dukes felt their brains.

That mind which had operated for thousands of years, surviving countless plots and wars, was no longer sufficient.

Duke Valerius, in charge of imperial intelligence, stood up with his scalp tingling.

He had to fulfill his duty.

“Your Majesty.”

His voice was dry, his words chosen with utmost care.

“Starlight City is the core of human faith, headquarters to the Seven Sacred Paladin Orders.”

“The city’s defense system was personally built by the Guardian Shield Order—impenetrable.”

“Moreover, Pope Uther VII is stationed there, wielding the holy relic ‘First Light’. In the short term, his combat power approaches the demigod realm.”

He swallowed hard and uttered the critical conclusion.

“If this turns into a full-scale war, the cost… will be incalculable.”

Translation: Your Majesty, it’s not worth poking the humans’ nest just for a show!

Ophelia’s gaze lifted from the star map and fixed on the duke.

Her eyes were calm, devoid of any ripple.

Duke Valerius stiffened.

He felt as if his soul was frozen, all further objections clogged in his throat.

“I am not consulting you.”

Ophelia’s tone remained utterly flat.

“I am issuing an order.”

The single sentence plunged the hall’s temperature to freezing point.

Every grand duke’s heart sank.

It’s over.

The queen was serious.

Ophelia’s gaze returned to the star map.

Her fingertip gently tapped the location of “Starlight City” with graceful precision.

“My plan is to launch a surprise war.”

“The goal is not occupation, nor plunder.”

Her tone was as indifferent as if discussing a trivial matter.

“We will take the ‘Starlight Cathedral’ apart, piece by piece.”

“Bring it back to Nightfall City, and place it in Sylvia’s garden.”

“As a ‘souvenir’ for her.”

Souvenir.

The three words exploded like thunder in the vast, dead silent hall.

The six grand dukes turned to stone.

The chord called “reason” in their minds snapped with a sharp crack.

They had imagined national destruction, strategic deterrence, countless possibilities.

But never this.

The queen was mobilizing the entire empire’s war machine.

Risking full-scale war with the human world.

Just to… steal a building.

And give it as a gift to her daughter.

Duke Bruch’s rugged face twitched uncontrollably.

He wanted to roar, to ask Her Majesty if she still remembered she ruled the empire!

But he dared not.

He saw the queen’s icy eyes, devoid of any human emotion.

He knew if he dared voice doubt, he would be the next to be exiled to the eye of the Chaos Storm.

An all-encompassing chill swept through them.

This chill did not come from the queen’s power.

But from the unfathomable, utterly irrational madness within her.

Perhaps, in the queen’s eyes, this world, this war, the lives of billions… were truly nothing more than a game to amuse her daughter.

Ophelia completely disregarded her subjects’ shock.

A faint trace of… anticipation? Appeared on her cold face.

She began issuing war preparation orders with calm precision.

Her posture was cold, professional, and ruthlessly efficient.

“Duke Bruch.”

“Your 1st, 3rd, and 7th Legions will be the main forces on the Eastern front.”

“Complete assembly within five days, objective: pierce the human ‘White Silver Line’.”

Duke Bruch snapped to attention, hoarsely acknowledging.

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Duke Giovanni.”

“All imperial war reserves are at your disposal.”

“Complete the first batch of supplies allocation within three days to ensure Eastern front logistics.”

Duke Giovanni, master of the empire’s economy, stood pale-faced.

“As you command, Your Majesty!”

One order after another issued clearly from the queen’s lips.

Beneath the queen’s mad strategic goal lay extraordinarily precise, rational tactical deployments.

That was the most terrifying part.

The queen’s madness was meticulously organized.

While Ophelia was meticulously preparing this unprecedented “grand gift” for her daughter, she did not know.

Crown Princess Avelia interpreted that sigh in a completely different and far more direct way.

She believed her sister’s unhappiness was not because of homesickness.

But because staying in the palace too long was simply too boring!

What she needed was a bit of… bloody entertainment to pass the time!