Chapter 329: The Demon Lord

In a dark forest...

An elegant lady tended to the plants in her garden.

She carried herself with perfect poise, her back straight and her movements graceful, resembling a noblewoman raised amidst the refinement of high society.

"Hmm~ Hmm~ Hmm~"

Water trickled gently from her watering can, blending with her soft humming.

She wore a flowing white dress, its long sleeves draping over her arms.

One hand lightly held the opposite sleeve while the other carried the watering can.

A gentle smile rested upon her porcelain features, while her platinum-blonde hair was neatly braided into a bun.

Rustle— Rustle—

The sound of approaching footsteps disturbed the tranquility of the garden, causing the noblewoman’s delicate brows to furrow ever so slightly.

"Greetings, Madam."

A feminine voice sounded as the figure of another beautiful lady was softly revealed by the moonlight.

The beautiful lady bowed with both hands resting upon her abdomen as she greeted, her soft voice filled with utmost respect and... reverence.

"Ah, it’s you," The noblewoman had a tinge of surprise in her voice as she responded without turning her head.

"Do you have anything to report, perhaps?"

Hearing the noblewoman’s voice, a smile bloomed like a flower on the lady’s lips, "Yes, Madam. I have something important to discuss with you."

"Your manners have improved; I’m very impressed," The noblewoman spoke slowly.

With graceful movements, she set the watering can upon a nearby stool, her soft humming never once ceasing.

There was an effortless elegance to every action she took, as though grace itself had become second nature to her.

She moved unhurriedly, carrying herself with the leisure of someone who had all the time in the world.

As though the very etiquette of nobility had been ingrained into every fiber of her being, she appeared completely untroubled by the world around her.

The noblewoman finally turned around, a faint smile gracing her lips. She gracefully took a seat on a nearby stool and crossed her legs.

"Pray tell, Merriam, what matter has warranted my attention?"

That was right.

The lady was none other than Merriam, the cult leader of Thoughtless Temperance.

Despite the noblewoman’s painfully slow movements, Merriam did not show even an ounce of impatience.

On the contrary, the reverence on her face only became greater.

Merriam kept her head bowed with both hands resting on her abdomen, maintaining proper posture as she began to speak.

Her report lasted for a few minutes, with the noblewoman calmly listening.

"That is all, Madam."

"To think that the Queen of Elves is that decisive... this makes things a little complicated. But really, the Elven Queen is quite heartless, don’t you think so too? What if there were survivors... To think that she didn’t even care about the possible loss of life."

The noblewoman’s voice radiated with genuine concern, making Merriam’s heart tremble.

She did not dare utter a word and could only listen in silence, her posture remaining perfectly composed.

"So the abomination has prematurely died before serving its purpose. What a shame. And the Sanguine Order you mentioned, hmm. Very well."

The noblewoman’s delicate voice resounded in the dark forest, her crimson eyes gleaming under the soft illumination of the moonlight.

"I... really look forward to meeting our esteemed guests."

Her breathing turned a little ragged as her eyes turned into beautiful crescents.

Lightly putting her hand over her chest, she spoke, "Oh no, it seems I’m getting a little too excited. You may go for now and prepare for everything. I believe our esteemed guests wouldn’t take too long to arrive."

"I understand, Madam Aziza."

Merriam inwardly heaved a sigh of relief as she slowly retreated, carefully maintaining her posture and decorum.

Only after putting more than twenty meters between herself and the noblewoman did she finally dare to relax.

The noblewoman resumed tending to the flowers in her garden.

However, a closer look revealed a scene that stood in stark contrast to her elegant demeanor.

The blood roses she carefully watered grew from special pots.

Those so-called pots were none other than elven skulls, with crimson stems sprouting through their hollow eye sockets.

Countless corpses and skeletons littered the surrounding area, each serving as nourishment for the blood roses blooming from their remains.

At the center of it all stood a colossal illusory branch that seemed capable of supporting the heavens themselves.

Yet the branch was rotting.

Maggots crawled through its bark, while worms and insects infested every part of it, slowly consuming it from within.

Despite the grotesque sight, the noblewoman’s expression never changed.

She gazed upon the corpses, the skulls, the insects, and the decaying branch with nothing but affection in her eyes.

As though she were admiring a breathtaking garden filled with the most beautiful flowers in existence.

The noblewoman gazed at the rotting branch in the sky as she spread both of her hands, her eyes emitting tenderness, "Ah! I want to be with you, too, Mother! I can’t wait. I can’t wait!"

This was Aziza.

The Demon Lord of Lust.

***

Rustle— Rustle— Rustle—

"Move faster! But watch your footing!"

Vanessa directed the stream of passing elven survivors, her voice carrying both urgency and exhaustion.

Her face was pale and haggard, making it obvious that the events of the past hours had taken a heavy toll on her.

At that moment, an elven mother carrying her sleeping son passed by Vanessa.

The instant they drew past her, the boy’s eyes suddenly snapped open, revealing crimson irises.

With a feral expression twisting his face, he sprang from his mother’s embrace and lunged toward the exhausted Vanessa.

"My son!" the elven mother cried out helplessly.

Vanessa could only stare in shock as the boy rushed toward her, his mouth stretched wide to reveal rows of sharp fangs.

Bzzt!

A flash of yellow lightning crackled through the air.

Killian’s figure appeared before her, looking at Vanessa with a concerned expression.

Yet it was obvious that he was in no better condition than she was.

Exhaustion was plainly written across his face, and the lightning surrounding him had long lost its former intensity, reduced to little more than a few flickering sparks.

Behind him, the elven boy tumbled to the ground and lay unconscious.

"My son! Kale! What happened!?"

The elven mother hurriedly dropped to her knees and pulled the unconscious boy into her arms, relief washing over her when she realized he was still alive.