The magnificent airships approached their destination, cutting gracefully through the skies as the vast city of Verdince loomed ahead. The air itself seemed charged with life force and powerful magic, an almost tangible aura emanating from the sprawling metropolis. The Demon Lord and his companions stirred from their meditations, sensing the immense energy that awaited them. They gathered where Mira sat near the grand window, her emerald eyes fixed on the horizon as the emerald city began to reveal itself.

  “Mira,” the Demon Lord’s deep, commanding voice broke the silence. “Do you know the name of our destination?”

  Mira turned her gaze to him, her previously stoic expression softening into something more vibrant. “That would be the emerald city, Verdince,” she replied, her voice carrying a note of excitement she hadn’t allowed herself before. “It’s one of the last jewels of humanity. I’ve never been there myself, though. The city is protected by an enormous, powerful green barrier, and it’s filled with grand towers that stretch up to the sky. They’ve managed to merge mechanical engineering and magic to create wonders. Millions of people live there. I’ve always wanted to go.”

  For a moment, her eyes glimmered with a flicker of anticipation. Since their departure, Mira had often sat in quiet reflection. During those moments of solitude, she had made an oath to herself—a silent promise that she would cherish her life for as long as she could. She knew, deep in her heart, that her parents were watching over her, and she didn’t want them to see their daughter consumed by despair. She would live, not as a mere shadow of herself, but as someone they could be proud of.

  The Demon Lord regarded her silently for a moment, sensing the subtle shift in her demeanor. Then, he turned his attention back to the horizon.

  As they drew closer, the grandeur of Verdince came into full view. The group fell silent, captivated by the sight unfolding before them. Even the Demon Lord, who had seen countless realms, felt a flicker of awe at the heights this civilization had reached despite its inherent weakness.

  The city sprawled beneath them in a tapestry of shimmering lights and colors. Skyscrapers of every hue stretched into the heavens, their glass fa?ades reflecting the golden rays of the sun. The streets below were alive with movement—millions of people scurried like ants, their energy visible even from above. The roads were filled not only with horses but also with a variety of magical beasts carrying their riders. Civilian airships dotted the sky, weaving between the towers and contributing to the organized chaos of the airways.

  Encasing the massive city was a translucent green barrier, shimmering like a giant emerald dome. It pulsed faintly with magic, an unmistakable symbol of humanity’s ingenuity and desperation to protect their sanctuary. Floating guard posts orbited the perimeter of the city, each bristling with defensive forces. Warriors clad in gleaming armor, archers with enchanted bows, and sorcerers radiating power patrolled the posts, while mounted wyverns circled the skies like vigilant sentinels.

  The airships continued their approach, gliding effortlessly toward the barrier. As they neared, the floating guardians moved with precision, opening a section of the green dome to allow them through. The transition was seamless—a testament to the coordination of the city’s defenses. But unseen by the human guardians, something else slipped through the barrier along with the airships.

  Only the Demon Lord and his companions sensed it—a faint presence that lingered in the air, neither hostile nor benign. It followed the airships, shadowing them with quiet intent.

  “Should we dispatch it, my Lord?” Greed asked, her golden eyes narrowing as she searched the skies for the unseen entity.

  “Not now,” the Demon Lord replied, his voice calm but firm. “Let it be. I do not wish to draw unnecessary attention and spoil our arrival. It seems content to observe us for now. However, should it act, you have my permission to eliminate it.”

  Greed gave a subtle nod, though her expression remained tense. Insight, standing silently at his side, watched the skies with her crimson gaze, her mind carefully attuned to the mysterious presence.

  Mira, sitting quietly between them, glanced up with confusion written plainly on her face. “What’s going on?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Don’t worry. It doesn’t concern you, young one,” the Demon Lord said, his tone unexpectedly gentle. The unexpected kindness in his voice took Mira by surprise, easing her unease and allowing her to relax.

  Greed and Insight, however, exchanged brief glances. They both understood the Demon Lord’s kindness differently. To them, it was a deliberate move—an act of manipulation meant to ensure Mira’s compliance. The girl’s abilities required her willingness to cooperate, after all.

  The Demon Lord himself remained silent, his thoughts momentarily adrift. He was perplexed by his own words, questioning the compassion that had unexpectedly surfaced. It felt foreign yet genuine, as if some unspoken connection with the girl had taken root within him. His contemplation was cut short as their airships reached their final destination: the tallest tower in the city, the Tower of the City Lord.

  As the airships docked, the servants prepared farewell gifts for their honored passengers. The Demon Lord’s entourage was presented with ornately decorated bags containing exquisite living items—luxurious soaps, finely crafted perfumes, and an assortment of rare snacks. Insight and Mira accepted the gifts on the Demon Lord’s behalf, their demeanor regal yet unassuming.

  Stepping onto the platform, the Demon Lord was greeted by the knight captain. Though still recovering from his injuries, the captain stood tall, his eyepatch and clean bandages a testament to the care he had received aboard the warship. He bowed deeply before the Demon Lord, his gratitude evident in every word he spoke. “Once again, my Lord, you have my thanks. Without you, countless lives would have been lost. My scars are a small price to pay for the peace you have brought us.”

  The Demon Lord regarded him with indifference, offering neither praise nor reproach. The captain, recognizing the silent dismissal, bowed one last time before departing.

  They were then swiftly greeted by the City Lord himself, accompanied by his advisor and an elite squadron of soldiers. Lexor, the City Lord, was clad in gold and green armor, the metallic surface gleaming like liquid sunlight. A black metal mask adorned his face, with a brilliant green emerald embedded into its forehead. A matching hood obscured any further physical features, lending him an enigmatic aura. He and his entourage knelt before the Demon Lord in deference.

  “This lowly one is Lexor, Lord of Verdince,” he said, his hoarse voice ringing with sincerity. “I give you my deepest gratitude, King of Hell. Because of your intervention, my family is whole again, and my soldiers remain alive. I dare not ask your name, my Lord, for I am aware of your customs, and they have been made known to all citizens of the Final Empire. None here would dare offend you, the Hero of Verdince, the slayer of the God of Dreams.”

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  The Demon Lord regarded Lexor with a measured gaze, his interest piqued by the man’s presence. There was a strength to him—a magical energy that radiated from him like a barely contained storm. Even Greed and Insight could sense it. Lexor, without a doubt, was the strongest human they had encountered since arriving on this world. Were he a demon, the Demon Lord mused, he could easily have risen to the rank of Archdemon.

  “Good,” the Demon Lord said at last. “You’ve done only what you should have—no more, no less. You alone may rise to meet my gaze. But tell me, why do you conceal your identity beneath a mask?”

  “My body was disfigured and burned in battle against the God of the Sun,” Lexor explained, his tone even. “I wear this mask to hide my appearance, lest it be unsightly to you.”

  The Demon Lord’s laughter echoed through the platform, joined by the amused chuckles of Greed and Insight. “Human, your kind truly misunderstands the ways of demons. We care not for appearances. Strength is all that matters. You have clearly shown enough to command this many people, though it pales in comparison to my kingdom of Hell, where my rule extends over trillions.”

  “Trillions,” Lexor repeated, his voice tinged with awe. “By the stars… I had imagined Hell vast, but this—this is beyond comprehension.”

  The Demon Lord allowed himself a faint smirk. “Yes, it is endless. But my interest in this realm lies elsewhere. I trust my inquiries have been prepared.”

  “They have, my Lord,” Lexor replied. “You and your companions are granted five floors of the tower, prepared with every luxury. Messenger crystals are stationed throughout, should you require assistance. We have also compiled books detailing our history, magic, and more. They await you in your quarters.”

  “Good, then after some time I will contact you and we shall meet again.” The Demon Lord turned away as Lexor bowed once more, his golden and green armor gleaming faintly under the ambient light of the tower’s entrance. The servants moved swiftly to escort the Demon Lord and his companions, their demeanor reverent as they led them to their assigned quarters.

  The floors designated for the Demon Lord and his entourage were opulent beyond measure—a testament to Verdince’s unmatched wealth and power. The walls shimmered with faintly glowing runes etched into emerald and golden accents, designed to augment the tower’s magical integrity. Chandeliers adorned with enchanted crystals hung from vaulted ceilings, casting a warm, ambient light throughout the halls. Rare tapestries depicting ancient battles and mythical creatures lined the corridors, each threaded with gold and silver. Polished marble flooring stretched endlessly, its surface reflecting the grandeur of the surroundings.

  The Demon Lord claimed four floors for himself, leaving Greed, Insight, and Mira to share the fifth. The floors were connected by intricate spiral staircases made of obsidian and engraved with demonic symbols—a subtle homage to the Demon Lord’s dominion. Each floor was tailored to the Demon Lord’s needs, equipped with private libraries, ornate seating areas, and master bedrooms that rivaled the decadence of palatial suites.

  The fifth floor, where the women resided, was no less extravagant. The servants had meticulously arranged books detailing humanity’s history, magical principles, and common knowledge within a sprawling study. Each book was elegantly bound with embossed covers, the contents meticulously written by scholars. Mira, though native to this world, found herself overwhelmed. Her upbringing had been humble—working tirelessly alongside her parents on an isolated farm—and she knew little of the grand history or arcane knowledge contained within these tomes.

  The Demon Lord roamed his floors in solitude, his footsteps silent against the marble as he immersed himself in the books. His mismatched eyes scanned each page with unwavering focus, absorbing the knowledge within. He moved from room to room, his thoughts uninterrupted, his mind sharpening as he tempered his newfound power. For him, silence was a tool, and knowledge was a weapon.

  Meanwhile, the women on the fifth floor embarked on their own study, their dynamic varied and telling. Insight proved as methodical as ever. Her crimson gaze flickered as she swiftly consumed the information within the texts, her mind a reservoir of meticulous understanding. She moved through book after book with practiced ease, her aura calm and collected.

  Mira, seated beside Insight, worked diligently. Though slower in her comprehension, she showed determination, following Insight’s guidance with focused effort. Her emerald eyes shone with curiosity, her resolve unwavering despite the overwhelming material.

  Greed, however, displayed far less patience. She ignored the historical texts entirely, opting instead to focus on magical knowledge. Despite her ambitious nature, she struggled to grasp the intricacies of arcane principles, her frustration mounting with every failed attempt. “This ridiculous jargon,” Greed muttered, tossing yet another book aside. “What use is it to write things so unnecessarily convoluted?”

  Insight glanced at her, her expression measured. “Magic requires a disciplined mind, not a wandering one. It is not a reward given to the impatient.”

  Greed’s golden irises flared as she shot her compatriot a sharp look. “Spare me your lectures, Insight. My power is my own, and I will master it my way.”

  Insight gave a faint smile, her attention returning to her book. Mira watched their exchange quietly, her curiosity piqued.

  After a week of solitary study, the Demon Lord emerged from his quarters. His aura had shifted—subtly but unmistakably—reflecting the mastery he had achieved over the power he had claimed. He descended the spiral staircase to the fifth floor, where Greed, Insight, and Mira were gathered in the study.

  His arrival silenced the room. Insight and Greed rose immediately, bowing in respect, while Mira followed suit, her movements slightly hesitant but sincere. The Demon Lord’s mismatched gaze swept over them before he spoke, his tone deliberate.

  “I have tempered my power and gained knowledge that is… intriguing,” he began, his voice resonating through the room. “Humanity is united under the banner of the Final Empire, led by the King of Hearts—a man said to have slain the God of Blood and absorbed its power.”

  Greed’s lips curled into a smirk. “A human killed a god?” she asked incredulously. “Surely you jest, my Lord.”

  “It is no jest,” the Demon Lord replied. “If true, it raises significant questions. Either humans are capable of far more growth than I anticipated, gods are weaker than I assumed, or—most likely—this is a fabrication crafted to inspire hope among humanity.”

  Insight spoke thoughtfully, her voice soft yet clear. “Regardless of the truth, such tales have a powerful impact. Hope is a tool, and humanity wields it well.”

  The Demon Lord nodded slightly. “Indeed. Hope has kept humanity alive despite their fragility. But it is not their hope that interests me. It is their magic.”

  He motioned toward the pile of books on the study table. “Humans are taught only one-third of the runic alphabet—that which pertains to arcane magic. Demons hold another third, tied to demonic magic. The final third belongs to divinity and remains a closely guarded secret.”

  Mira, who had been listening intently, asked hesitantly, “But how are these connected, my Lord?”

  The Demon Lord turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable. “Arcane, Divine, Demonic, and Ancient Demonic magic form a unified circle. They are fragments of the same source, divided by compatibility. Humans may wield arcane magic or divine magic, but rarely both unless they are hybrids—champions of gods, for example.”

  Insight added, her voice calm, “Demons are bound to demonic magic, though it is possible to wield arcane magic by consuming humans with an affinity for it. However, divine magic is inaccessible… to all but one.”

  The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the Demon Lord. His presence seemed to expand, his aura becoming sharper and more oppressive.

  “I consumed the God of Dreams,” he said, his voice cold and certain. “I now hold all three—Arcane, Divine, and Demonic magic. I am the exception.”

  Mira’s emerald eyes widened, her breath catching. She felt the weight of his words, the sheer gravity of his existence. Even Greed and Insight, though loyal, seemed momentarily stunned by the magnitude of his revelation.

  The Demon Lord turned away, his focus already moving to the future. “This world holds much that is of use to me. But humanity’s secrets—those hidden within their empire and their gods—will not remain hidden for long. Prepare yourselves, for we will soon act.”