Chapter 33: A Reckless Challenge

The soldiers accompanying Silvya were, for the most part, battle-hardened field troops; some were even formidable warriors imbued with dragon blood.

Yet, against the formidable might of the Demon King’s City, these two thousand fighters were utterly outmatched.

Furthermore, the Demon King’s Central Army was stationed not far from the capital. Once they converged with the city’s defenders, encircling Silvya’s two thousand, the inevitable outcome would be a bloodbath.

The crux of this impending clash, therefore, hinged on whether Silvya and her subordinates, under her leadership, possessed the capability to swiftly breach the Demon King’s City’s formidable barrier and the Tower Knights’ relentless blockade, or even pose a genuine threat to the Demon King’s power itself.

Everyone recognized this as a near-impossible feat, akin to an ant attempting to fell a colossal tree.

Silvya, a demon lord whose power had accumulated for scarcely a century, could hardly hope to challenge a titan that had stood for ten millennia, embodying the entire demon race.

Despite this daunting reality, these soldiers, undeniably loyal and exceptionally skilled, remained steadfast, radiating a chilling aura capable of crushing all opposition.

“Hmph, and what of it?”

Confronted with such overwhelming odds, Silvya merely let out a cold snort, a sound that conveyed both derision and utter contempt for everything arrayed against her.

Within her seemingly serene eyes, a fervent, destructive desire lay coiled, intensifying with each passing moment under the immense pressure.

“To engage in discourse with me, Beatrice, you are simply not worthy,” Silvya declared. “Summon the Demon King; I have a matter to address with her directly.”

Silvya’s audacious act of directly calling the Demon King by her name, delivered with an arrogance that bordered on either madness or profound foolishness, sent a ripple of shock through every soldier present.

“It appears you are truly beyond redemption…”

Beatrice’s eyes grew steadily colder, no longer regarding the woman before her as a vassal to be treated with deference, but as an obstacle to be decisively removed.

“Magic cannons, prepare to charge,” Beatrice commanded. “Await His Majesty the Demon King’s order, and annihilate every rebel before us.”

The cold, metallic muzzles of the magic cannons swiveled to target the encroaching enemy before the city gates.

As the intricate magic arrays flared to life, the cannon barrels began to glow with intense heat, thirteen layers of complex arcane runes spiraling along their length, and terrifying energies coalesced at the tips aimed directly at Silvya.

Undaunted by the four converging torrents of terrifying energy, each gathering like an imminent storm, Silvya stood before her much taller soldiers, appearing as unyielding as a mountain range.

The grin on her lips widened, becoming even more unrestrained and wild.

Her presence was that of a madwoman confronting a hurricane with naught but her bare flesh, devoid of even a sliver of fear, as though utterly invincible.

Even the Demon King’s City soldiers, who considered her their enemy, found themselves subtly stirred by her audacious display.

***

“……”

Receiving no direct command from Letitia, Tower Knight Beatrice interpreted the silence as implicit permission to unleash her attack.

“Fire!”

At the Tower Knight’s sharp command, four searing beams, harbingers of death, simultaneously converged upon Silvya at the forefront.

With no possibility of evasion, Silvya braced herself, meeting the fan-like onslaught of the magic cannons with her own body.

Boom!……

The concentrated energy from the magic cannons tore a deep crater into the earth before Silvya’s army.

Yet, astonishingly, the circular chasm, cut clean across, abruptly halted at Silvya’s position, as if encountering an utterly impassable barrier.

“Hoo…”

Silvya exhaled a long breath, her eyes now bloodshot.

Her form, moments ago that of an ordinary woman, now distended with powerful, sinewy muscles, as if molten rock surged and erupted within her, her body rapidly inflating and deflating like a grotesque balloon.

The Tower Knight, one hand gripping a towering shield and the other holding a slender spear, watched impassively as Silvya, who had swollen into a three-meter monstrosity, rapidly reverted to her ordinary female stature within mere tens of seconds.

With the vast, concentrated energy within her body swiftly consumed, Silvya extended a thumb, drawing it across her lower lip.

Her gaze, now like flowing lava, intensified with a feral fervor, reminiscent of a beast slowly rousing from slumber.

“Thank you for the meal.”

A shark-like grin spread across her face, revealing gleaming, razor-sharp teeth, as she appeared utterly content with her recent “feeding.”

***

“Very well, Beatrice, allow her entry.”

From within the palace, Letitia, already reclined upon her throne, issued the command to the Tower Knight, her voice utterly devoid of emotion.

She appeared almost lifeless, her gaze so indifferent it seemed to belong to a corpse, her demeanor so languid she evinced no interest in the world.

Yet, that chilling terror and undeniable majesty were vividly etched into the minds of all who beheld her.

To one side of her, the impassive Abraham, Lord of the Succubus Royal Court, stood, his eyes closed as if in repose, having yet to return to his own domain.

On the opposing side stood the maiden Noah, still in her pure white Dragon Princess form, her face adorned with a natural, carefree smile, utterly devoid of any tension, her tail gently swaying.

The Demon King’s inner court, now swiftly set into motion, soon became steeped in an atmosphere of solemn dignity.

“Silvya, encamp your army outside the city walls,” Letitia commanded. “You may enter the inner court with two trusted retainers. Beatrice, escort her in.”

“As you command, Your Majesty the Demon King.”

“Understood.”

Silvya retained her shark-like smile, her slight bow betraying an utter lack of sincerity.

The Tower Knight’s armor, like intricate clockwork, began to disassemble around her.

From within, a slender maiden-doll gracefully emerged, clad in a form-fitting bodysuit that barely concealed her torso, from which a lavish skirt unfurled.

By the time her feet touched the ground, she was already resplendent in a magnificent and spirited gown.

With a few swift blurs, she materialized beside Silvya just outside the city gates.

Under Letitia’s command, the massive gates slowly parted, revealing the stark contrast between the dark inner city and the bustling, vibrant market beyond—a veritable demon’s lair, from which there seemed no return.

“His Majesty the Demon King requests your presence, Demon Lord Silvya.”

With impeccable grace, the maiden-doll, moving like a flawless attendant, gestured for Silvya to proceed into the city.

Her long silver eyelashes, like fallen snow, subtly lowered, and her slender, elegant form caused a momentary ripple of disarray among Silvya’s troops.

Truly, soldiers were a peculiar lot—unflinching in the face of death, yet rendered into hopeless disarray at the mere sight of a beautiful woman.

“Beatrice, the Frozen Witch,” Silvya taunted, her voice dripping with scorn. “I recall that centuries ago, you were a world-renowned witch of annihilation.

What happened? After being slain centuries ago, have you been domesticated into such an obedient hound?”

Beatrice merely closed her eyes, her translucent, jelly-like lips parting almost imperceptibly, a sight that made one marvel at the truly exquisite craftsmanship of the doll.

“No comment.”

Utterly unperturbed by Silvya’s provocations, she remained meticulously focused on her task of guidance.

“How utterly tedious.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Silvya beckoned to her two powerful retainers, then followed Beatrice deep into the Demon King’s inner court.

Throughout the Demon King’s City, the defenders and the personal guard stood at their assigned posts, weapons at the ready, their gazes fixed upon Silvya and her two retainers with undisguised wariness.

While her two retainers appeared slightly uneasy, Silvya herself seemed to grow even more exhilarated.

“Relax,” Silvya chuckled. “This, too, is a sensation of being under the world’s gaze.”

“Understand this: we are forging a new chapter in history.”