Chapter 3: Darlingan

Speaking of Dalinan.

Here, she was described as an exceptionally cruel tyrannical Demon Lord.

Of course, this evaluation was somewhat influenced by the general disgust toward the Demon Race.

After all, among the successive Demon Lords, any one of them was portrayed here as cold, bloodthirsty, and ruthless.

However…

Nowadays, the impression of Dalinan seems to have acquired an additional… strange quality?

Dalinan is a new Demon Lord.

Ten years ago, she defeated the former Demon Lord with near-overwhelming power, and in the following six years, she decisively ended the internal chaos within the Demon Race that had lasted for centuries.

She reunited the Demon Race, making it stronger than ever.

What followed was an astonishingly familiar repeat of history: Dalinan led the Demon Race in an invasion of human territories.

Theocracy of Saint Margaret, Pompes Kingdom, Sidon Empire, and over a dozen other human states were all attacked.

Within just four years, all these nations were completely overrun, leaving only Saint Capital Fafniya of the Theocracy of Saint Margaret still holding out.

However, the Saint Capital was also captured after the betrayal of the high official Mas Beardsley.

The reason why the view of Demon Lord Dalinan here has become “strange” is that more than two months ago, after the Demon Race completely seized Saint Capital Fafniya, Dalinan inexplicably declared that all the occupied territories would be returned to humanity.

Of course, there were conditions.

The conditions were the Demon Race gaining trade rights with the human nations and the human countries acknowledging the Demon Race, granting them equal citizenship rights alongside humans, Elves, Dwarves, and others.

As for some smaller additional conditions, she couldn’t quite recall, only remembering these two seemed relatively important.

This bizarre behavior left most people, including Furnicia, puzzled.

Lost in confused thoughts, Furnicia let out a soft sigh.

Politics had never been her strength, nor something she liked.

If it were possible, she wished life could be simple and straightforward.

But that wish was now shattered.

She didn’t know how long this Demon Lord intended to imprison her; she hoped it would only be a few months before being released.

If it were a matter of centuries, it would be unbearably painful.

Furnicia was a half-elf.

Though her appearance was the same as a human’s, half of her bloodline was Elf Tribe.

In theory, she could live a very long, very long time.

***

Past.

Morning.

Furnicia awoke in the soft light slipping through the window.

Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she slowly sat up, her gaze dazed from lingering drowsiness.

The gentle morning breeze drifted into the dimly lit bedroom, causing the cranberry flowers placed in a vase in the corner to sway elegantly.

Several small, pale blue birds perched on the balcony, chirping noisily.

After sitting like this for a while, Furnicia slightly lifted her head, her eyes falling upon the antique pendulum clock on the other side.

Though it was only just past five-thirty, the far horizon had already begun to pale with dawn.

“Ha—”

Covering her cherry lips with her delicate hand, Furnicia let out a small yawn, then shifted her body to leave the soft, comfortable bed.

Though it was still early and she could sleep a little longer,

Furnicia didn’t want to be woken by those Demon Race people.

Given their rough treatment, they would bang loudly on the door in an especially rude manner to scare her awake.

She knew this well from experience two months ago.

At that time, because of the Theocracy’s defeat and her captivity, she had suffered many sleepless nights, only dozing off in a haze near dawn.

In the room stood a Rococo-style vanity of dark gold, intricately carved with many patterns.

Furnicia sat there, picking up the wooden comb on the table and slowly brushing her beautifully tangled blonde hair from sleep.

The facilities in the Governor’s Hall resting rooms were very well maintained, as they were meant for the nobility.

At the ends of her long hair, she tied a Butterfly Bow made of pale white satin ribbon.

Facing a half-drop-shaped mirror on the vanity, Furnicia scrutinized her appearance, confirming everything was in order before reluctantly rising.

Though she was now a prisoner and no longer had a personal maid to serve her, having been a Saintess for eight years, she was far from helpless.

After all, adding up her two lifetimes, she was already a capable and remarkable adult.

The breeze gently blew, causing the clothes hung beside the window to sway slightly.

Furnicia walked over slowly and packed the garments she had changed out of last night and washed into her suitcase.

Summer’s weather was hot, so these clothes had dried overnight with ease.

After washing up in the bathroom, Furnicia glanced at the wall clock again.

Seeing the time nearly at six, she stood before the balcony, closed her eyes, and folded her hands in prayer.

“Lord! In places of hatred, let me sow love; in places of injury, let me sow forgiveness; in places of discord, let me bring harmony; in places of misunderstanding, let me sow truth; in places of doubt, let me sow faith; in places of despair, let me bring hope; in places of darkness, let me bring light; in places of sorrow, let me bring joy.”

Though she was a Saintess of the church, her attitude toward religious faith was quite ambiguous.

She was tolerant and non-rejecting, but not truly devout.

Her punctual prayers were merely a habit cultivated over these eight years.

However…

Though she did not believe, she retained a small interest in this.

The moment she finished reciting the lengthy prayer, a loud knock came on the door.

Opening it, she saw a Demon Race maid standing outside with a tray, her expression rather unpleasant.

“Here! Your breakfast.”

“Thank you~”

Taking the tray from the maid, Furnicia replied politely in a low voice.

This Demon Race maid had been sent by Demon Lord Dalinan as temporary caretaker.

But in reality, except for delivering meals daily, Furnicia rarely saw her.

Watching the maid’s retreating back, Furnicia was about to turn back into the room when suddenly a door slammed nearby.

Hearing the noise, she instinctively looked over.

A young woman of a race resembling a Succubus emerged from the adjacent room, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Most of the Demon Race shared similar appearances, so Furnicia couldn’t be completely certain she was a Succubus.

However…

Judging from her revealing clothes and the intense aura of temptation radiating from her that could easily lead men astray, Furnicia was ninety percent sure.

The Succubus was breathing heavily and slightly out of breath, her hands tidying the somewhat disheveled clothes, then noticing Furnicia’s gaze.

She immediately furrowed her brows deeply.