Margaret never considered herself arrogant.
She simply knew, objectively, that she was born noble.
About fourteen hundred years ago, their Arenix Family ancestor, the Great Hero Sinmiel, formed a contract with a True Dragon.
Eventually… they became husband and wife.
The Arenix descendants born from their ancestor and the True Dragon naturally inherited dragon blood, possessing the power of “anti-magic” within their veins.
By invoking their dragon blood and paying varying prices, they could unleash the True Dragon’s overwhelming anti-magic might.
Relying on this power, even after Ancestor Sinmiel’s death, their descendants continued to defend the Empire for generations—driving the demons into the barren and cruel Demon Realm, expelling sorcerers and dark magicians, and sending rebellious Archmages to the gallows.
Growing up under their protection, what could the commoners possibly resent?
What did the commoners have to be dissatisfied with?
Margaret couldn’t understand it.
Why did the Hero insist on standing up for those commoners?
Yes, she had indeed ordered the grain prices to rise, but wasn’t that only because the Hero refused to bow his head?
If the Hero had been willing to yield, would things have come to this?
Clearly, the direct cause of the commoners’ hunger was the Hero’s worthless pride, yet he never reflected on his own mistakes and only blamed her for everything…
Margaret thought bitterly: She ought to teach this childish, responsibility-shirking Hero a proper lesson on behalf of the Emperor—otherwise, he’d truly get too full of himself.
The sooner he accepted the fact that “even Archmages have no right to rebel,” the sooner the Hero could shed his immature ways and obediently acknowledge the greatness of the Empire.
At the same time… he would also bow before their mighty royal family.
“To think the sacred relic prepared for the Demon King would end up used on the Hero instead.”
Margaret closed her phoenix eyes, feeling the bloodline connection between herself and the holy relic, and suddenly found it all utterly absurd.
“Your Highness, there’s no need to dwell on it. A Hero who’s lost control is no different from a Demon King.”
Ananna soothed her gently.
“If any Archmage could trample on the rules, then what would be the point of rules at all? If Archmages ran rampant, we’d be back in the dark era before the Empire was founded.”
She continued slowly.
“The Empire’s rule was never maintained by brutal oppression or solely by the prestige of His Majesty Sinmiel the Great Hero. It was supported by a set of effective rules that preserved order and stability in the civilized world.”
“Suppressing any Archmage who seeks to disrupt order, defending the Empire’s bottom line of stability—that’s the duty of the royal family, Your Highness.”
“And furthermore… it is the ‘Justice’ you were born with.”
Margaret burst out laughing, beaming.
“Ananna, you’re absolutely right. You truly are the wisest person in the world. I think even Royal Tutor Grandpa isn’t as smart as you.”
Ananna quickly bowed her head.
“Your Highness, I only spoke the sincere feelings of your humble servant.”
“But… is this plan really going to work?”
As the moment approached, Margaret suddenly felt a bit anxious.
“Please rest assured, Your Highness. There will be no problem at all.”
Ananna said confidently.
“The Hero gets along well with the Imperial Guards—they eat and live together. If I have the Imperial Guards detonate their blood upon seeing him, the Hero would never bear to see his comrades sacrificed for his sake.
He’d have to avoid them. Besides, he’s used to being poor and thrifty—he’d never cause large-scale destruction. Using our troop placement, we can force him onto a fixed route. It’s entirely feasible.”
“The Hero’s greatest threat is his speed—he’s so fast we can’t even see him. But as long as his route is predetermined, we have a chance to predict and deploy the sacred relic, trapping him in this room.”
“That makes sense!”
Margaret felt reassured.
—
At the same time.
The Hero, who was about to brazenly storm the City Lord’s mansion, suddenly paused.
He heard a ‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ knocking sound from atop his helmet, followed by Lili’s clear, cute voice.
“Friend! Friend!”
“What is it, Lili?”
“Lili has an idea! 💡√”
“Idea?”
Jon was caught off guard, almost amused, but with a battle looming, he earnestly listened to Lili’s suggestion.
“We can use Demon King Joke Number 124—Mole Assault!”
Liya clung to the Hero’s helmet, her delicate voice oddly serious.
Liya knew the Empire had trump cards aimed at High Magic Units.
Partly from the scattered records in the History of the Rise and Fall of Demon Kings.
Partly from her own instincts sensing something wrong.
Logically, there should have been more Archmages among demons than among humans—since demons were virtually immortal.
While no matter how strong humans’ magic or advanced their healing arts, they could never escape the limits of lifespan—even the sturdiest could only live to eighty or ninety, no matter how powerful their Divine Arts.
Over the millennia, the Seven Demon Gods would idly create ‘Chosen Great Demons’, gathering a terrifying force capable of crushing humanity’s most powerful spellcasters.
Yet these Great Demons rarely invaded humanity.
Each lived cautiously, avoiding power struggles among the demon clans.
…As if they feared something.
It was clear the Empire possessed a trump card against the Chosen Great Demons—a final method that even the old Demon Lords dreaded.
Moreover, the old Demon Lords were all crafty, never sharing with the lesser demons, just sending them to test humanity’s strength.
Although Liya felt—with the Hero’s power, capable of stopping time, he was almost at the level of a Demon God—the Empire’s trump cards might not even work on him.
But safety first!
Switching tactics was no big deal!
Seeing that there were no guards at the City Lord’s mansion entrance, she immediately knew the Princess was up to no good.
Since that was the case, no matter what traps awaited, she’d just go around them!
After all, with the Hero’s labor efficiency comparable to a giant construction machine, any tactic was possible.
—Little Za! Watch closely! This is how you use a Gundam!
“Friend! We can dig underground and catch them off guard!”
Liya suggested eagerly.
“Uh?”
Jon hesitated.
“Is this even possible? Underground, I might lose my sense of direction and dig the wrong way.”
“It’s okay! Friend! Lili can link to nearby Pupu! Pupu can help Friend with positioning!”
“Where would we dump the excavated soil? And what about rainwater flooding in—wouldn’t we get buried alive?”
“It’s okay! Friend! Lili can summon lots of Pupu buddies to help transport soil and wastewater!”
“Margaret’s room is on the fourth floor, though…”
“It’s okay! Friend! We can dig a super-deep cellar! When the time comes, we’ll punch through the fourth-floor ceiling in one go! Drop the Princess right down! Then grab her and run!”
“…”
Jon pondered for a second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
“Great idea!”
He gave a thumbs up.
—
Outside the City Lord’s mansion, about fifty meters away in an Abandoned House, the Hero drew his rusted Holy Sword, then cracked his neck and began furiously digging with the indestructible giant blade.
His movements were swift and powerful—the Holy Sword… no, the Saint Shovel swung so fast it left afterimages.
Groups of Pupu carried the excavated earth to the yard, stacking it into a miniature mountain.
Four ‘Queen Pupu’, linked by Liya, hopped about directing the work.
At the same time, a brown Pupu, modified by Liya into a bird shape, flew into the City Lord’s courtyard, guiding the digging Hero through the [Link] skill’s distance sensing.
—You never know what’s happening beneath your own feet.jpg