BOOM!

Another explosion rocked the earth, sending a tremor through the wheels of the carriage as it rolled through the massive, vine-covered gates of the Elven Capital.

"The barrier is at 60%," Lyra whispered, her eyes fixed on the sky through the window.

"At this rate, those Twilight bastards will break through before midnight!"

Hearing this, Damien looked up. Above the towering, bioluminescent trees that served as the city's buildings, a massive dome of translucent green light shimmered.

But it wasn't the healthy, vibrant green described in the novel. It was pale, flickering like a dying lightbulb every time a streak of purple magic slammed into it from the outside.

'In the original story, the capital fell because the barrier was sabotaged from the inside,' Damien recalled, his eyes narrowing.

'But this… this is a brute-force siege. The timeline has changed far beyond what I expected.'

"Leona, keep moving," Damien ordered. "Don't stop for anything."

The city itself was a masterpiece of nature, magic bridges woven from living vines connecting tree-towers the size of skyscrapers, glowing moss lighting the streets, and waterfalls cascading from the upper branches.

But now, it was a city of fear.

The streets were empty of civilians. Elven squads ran back and forth, carrying supplies and wounded soldiers. The air smelled of ozone and burnt leaves.

"It's so quiet…" Isabelle murmured, her hand instinctively gripping the hem of her maid dress. "Young Master, where is everyone?"

"Hiding," Damien said grimly. "Praying."

He looked at the central spire of the city, the World Tree!

It dwarfed everything else, a colossal trunk that seemed to pierce the clouds. That was the Palace. That was where the Queen was.

And that was where the real danger lay.

Halt!

The carriage slowed as they reached the inner sanctum's gate. This wasn't a wooden barricade like the border; this was a wall of solid, white crystal.

A squad of Royal Guards, wearing armor far heavier and more ornate than the border sentries, blocked the path.

Their spears were leveled, glowing with dangerous, high-density mana.

"State your business!" the Royal Guard Captain barked. He looked exhausted, his eyes rimmed with red, likely from days of sleepless defense.

Damien didn't argue this time; rather, he simply held out the Silver Necklace.

And the captain, the moment he saw the Voss crest glowing with Theron's signature mana, his aggressive stance vanished, replaced by shock.

" The King of Darkness?" The Captain gasped. He looked at the carriage, hope warring with confusion. "He came? He actually came?"

"He sent his heir," Lyra called out from the carriage, showing her face.

"I am Ranger Captain Lyra. I have returned with reinforcements. Open the gate! The Queen must be informed immediately!"

The Captain hesitated, glancing at the "reinforcements", a single carriage. But the aura radiating from the necklace was undeniable.

"Open the Crystal Gate!" he shouted.

"Escort them to the Throne Room! Hurry!"

The massive crystal doors slid open silently.

................

[The World Tree - Throne Room Entrance]

The inside of the World Tree was hollowed out into a magnificent hall of amber and wood. But Damien didn't have time to admire the architecture.

The moment they stepped out of the carriage, the pressure in the air multiplied.

"This pressure…" Leona growled, her fur standing on end. "It feels like the air is heavy."

"It's the Queen," Damien said, adjusting his cuffs. "She's a Peak 7th Order Mage, bordering on 8th. And right now… she's agitated."

'And pregnant,' he added silently. 'Which makes her volatile.'

"Isabelle," Damien whispered. "Stay close. Do not, and I mean do not release your aura unless I tell you to. If the Queen senses your demon blood, she might attack first and ask questions later."

"I… I'll try, Young Master," Isabelle gulped, retracting her presence as much as possible.

Two massive wooden doors, carved with the history of the Elves, swung open before them.

Damien walked in first, his steps echoing on the polished wood floor.

The Throne Room was vast, lit by floating orbs of sunlight. At the far end, seated on a throne made of living roots, was Queen Aelinor.

She was beautiful, with flowing golden hair that touched the floor and eyes the color of spring leaves.

But her face was pale, drawn with pain and exhaustion. Her hand rested protectively on her swollen stomach.

Surrounding her were a dozen elite guards and several high-ranking advisors, all of whom looked tense.

When Damien entered, the room fell silent.

The Queen's eyes scanned him. She looked at Lyra. She looked at Leona.

And then, her gaze landed on Isabelle.

ZOOM.

The temperature in the room dropped to freezing. The vines on the throne writhed like snakes.

"Theron Voss…"

The Queen's voice was soft, but it carried the weight of a storm.

"You foolish, arrogant man."

She slowly stood up, ignoring the advisors who tried to help her. Her eyes, now glowing with intense, dangerous mana, locked onto Damien.

"I asked for help. I asked for an army. And instead…"

She pointed a trembling finger at Isabelle.

"He sends a child… and a Demon."

Boom!

A wave of green mana exploded from the throne, cracking the floorboards and rushing toward Damien's group like a tidal wave.

"Protect the Young Master!" Leona roared, stepping forward with her shield.

"Wait!" Lyra shouted.

Damien didn't move. He didn't flinch. He stared directly at the angry Queen.

'3rd Order vs 7th Order. If this hits, we die.'

'But she won't hit.'

"Auntie Elinor!" Damien shouted, using a name no one else dared to use.

"Is this how you treat your nephew on his first visit?"

The green mana wave stopped inches from his nose. The wind from the spell blew his silver hair back, but he didn't blink.

The Queen froze. The anger in her eyes flickered, replaced by a sudden flash of nostalgia. She looked at his silver hair. She looked at his blue eyes.

"...Nephew?" she whispered.

She slumped back onto the throne, the mana dissipating. She let out a long, weary sigh that sounded like the creaking of an old branch.

"You have his eyes," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "And his reckless tongue."

She looked at Isabelle again. The hostility was still there, but it was restrained.

"Explain yourself, boy. Before I decide that purging the demon standing next to you is worth starting a war with your father."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.