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

Queen Aelinor's voice was calm, but the mana in the room was boiling. The wooden floorboards groaned under the pressure of her 7th-Order aura.

Behind Damien, Leona growled low in her throat, her hand inching toward her greatsword. Isabelle was trembling, her instincts screaming that the woman in front of them was a natural predator to her kind.

Damien, however, just dusted off his shoulder where the wind pressure had ruffled his cloak.

"Explain?" Damien chuckled, though his internal monologue was screaming.

'Damn! She's even stronger than in the novel! If she attacks now, even with Dual-Core, I'm dead in three seconds. I have to talk fast.'

"Auntie Elinor," Damien said, stepping forward boldly. "I didn't bring a demon to attack you. I brought her to save you."

"Save me?" The Queen scoffed, her eyes narrowing. "From what? The Twilight Association outside my walls? Do you think an elf queen needs the help of an abomination to fight humans?"

"Not just humans," Damien corrected. He lowered his voice. "I'm talking about the Demon General who is waiting for you to go into labour."

The room went dead silent.

The Queen's eyes widened. The advisors behind her gasped.

"How…" Aelinor's voice wavered for the first time. "How do you know about that?"

"My father isn't the only one with secrets," Damien bluffed smoothly.

"I know the prophecy. The moment the Royal Heir is born, the barrier will fluctuate. And in that moment, the Void Demon God will send his twelfth general, Charron the Undying, to kill the child."

He pointed at her swollen stomach.

"I'm here to stop that," he said, his mind going through some parts of the novel he had forgotten.

"Indeed, there was such a prophecy in the original novel; it's also why the elf Queen was able to make preparations beforehand, allowing her newborn daughter and future heroine to escape at the cost of her life"

Muttering inwardly, Damien just hoped that his words had some effect

After all, the prophecy was something that she alone, as the Elf Queen, was meant to know, as she received it in a dream.

Luckily, after waiting for this, Aelinor suddenly paused.

The Queen stared at him. The hostility slowly drained from her face, replaced by a weary, desperate hope. She slumped back onto her living-wood throne, wincing as a contraction hit her.

"Theron…" she whispered. "He always knew too much."

She looked at Isabelle again. This time, there was no killing intent. Just calculation.

"A half-demon… fighting against a Demon General. It's poetic, I suppose." She sighed. "Fine. I will trust you, Nephew. But if she loses control, my guards will put her down. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Damien nodded.

"Then speak," the Queen commanded. "You didn't come all this way just out of the goodness of your heart. Theron Voss doesn't raise philanthropists. What do you want?"

Damien's expression turned serious. This was it.

"I need the Tears of the Goddess of Life."

He said, thinking that this was his chance!

If he were able to get it, not only would his physique be able to properly use both aura and mana.

But the rest should be able to heal Theron's hand a bit, even if not completely.

Unfortunately, things aren't going to be that easy.

The reaction was immediate. The advisors shouted in outrage.

"Insolence!" "That is the Empire's most sacred treasure!" "How dare a human ask for the Tears!"

The Queen raised her hand, silencing them. She looked at Damien with a sad, pitying smile.

"You want the Tears," she said softly. "I assume… Is it for Theron? His arm?" Remembering the news on her old friend, he indeed needed it.

Damien nodded. "The Void Mark is eating him alive. Only the Tears can purify it."

"I see."

Aelinor closed her eyes. A single tear leaked out, but it was just saltwater, not the crystal gem he needed.

"I would give them to you, Damien. Truly. For Theron, I would give anything."

She opened her eyes. They were filled with pain.

"But I can't."

"Why?" Damien asked, his heart sinking. "The Treasury—"

"It's not in the treasury!" The Queen snapped, her voice cracking.

"The Tears of the Goddess aren't an item we store, Damien! They are manifested! Legend says they can only be cried by a Virgin Queen in a moment of pure sorrow or joy!"

"A Maiden whose sole purpose is to serve the Goddess of life, and guard the world tree!"

She gestured to her pregnant belly with a bitter laugh.

"Look at me, boy! Do I look like a virgin to you?"

BOOM.

Damien's mind went blank.

'What? Wait. In the novel… the protagonist got the Tears from the Queen… but that was much later! Was she… was she not the mother?'

He looked at the Queen, then at her stomach. The gears in his head spun wildly.

'The Virgin Queen… pure lineage… connected to the World Tree…'

His eyes widened as realization hit him like a truck.

"The Princess," Damien whispered.

The Queen froze. She looked at him, her face pale.

"Yes," she whispered back. "She's the only one who can create the tears."

She cradled her stomach protectively.

"My daughter. She is the one the World Tree has chosen. She is the one with the pure connection. The moment she is born… her first cry… her first tears…"

"Those will be the Tears of the Goddess," Damien finished.

The gravity of the situation crashed down on him.

He didn't just need to defend the city. He didn't just need to kill a Demon General.

He had to be in the delivery room. He had to catch the very first tears of a newborn baby while an army of undead tried to kill her.

"So," Damien said, letting out a long, shaky breath. "I have to deliver a baby in the middle of a war zone."

"Essentially," the Queen grimaced, gripping the armrest as another contraction hit her hard.

"Argh!"

"Your Majesty!" The advisors rushed forward.

"It's time," the Queen gasped, sweat beading on her forehead. "The baby… she's coming."

WOOOOOOOOO!

Outside, a massive, mournful horn blast echoed across the city.

Lyra rushed to the window. "Damien! Look!"

Damien ran to the balcony.

The green barrier in the sky was flickering violently. Outside, the purple mana of the Twilight Association was no longer hitting random spots. It was concentrating on a single point directly above the palace.

And in the shadows of the city streets, black portals were beginning to swirl open.

"They know," Damien realized.

"They know she's going into labour. The barrier is tied to her life force. It's weakening."

He turned back to his team.

"Isabelle, Leona, Lyra. Battle stations."

He looked at the Queen, who was being carried toward the inner chambers by her healers.

"Lyra, go to the high tower. Anything that flies, shoot it down."

"On it!" Lyra sprinted out.

"Leona, hold the main door. Nothing gets through. I don't care if it's a zombie or a dragon. You stop it."

"My shield is ready!" Leona roared, slamming her visor down.

"Isabelle," Damien said, walking up to her. He grabbed her shoulders. "You're with me. We're guarding the Queen personally."

"M-Me?" Isabelle stuttered. "But…"

"No Buts!" Damien shouted, his eyes glowing blue and gold.

"The thing coming for that baby is a Demon General! None of us can afford to falter!"

He pulled out his sword.

"Her labour has started. And so has the war."

CRASH!

With a loud crash, the green barrier finally shattered like glass.

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