CHAPTER 300: CHAPTER 299 - THE DEMONS IN THE COURTROOM.

In the capital city of Velmoria.

The throne room of the royal palace was lit in amber firelight, shadows stretching tall across the marble pillars. Velvet banners swayed above as if restless, the weight of silence pressing heavily.

Velric sat on the throne—not because he wanted to, but because he had to. The crown sat crooked on his head, his posture stiff, eyes flicking constantly toward the three figures standing to his side.

Selena, calm as the moon reflected in dark water, stood in her regal black gown, shadowy devourer-creatures flickering lazily in the depths at her feet like phantom hounds waiting for her call.

Beside her, Graye shifted impatiently in her sleek violet-trimmed armor, curves shining under the torchlight as if the metal was designed to taunt the court itself.

She balanced a very unimpressed Nibbles in one hand like he was some divine relic, his bushy tail twitching irritably.

Velric swallowed hard.

He knew why he was nervous, and it wasn’t just the crown—it was the fact that Selena had that cold look in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

Every time their eyes met, he thought that she might activate the slave seal’s pain.

His fear wasn’t uncalled for because she had randomly made him feel it—the more sudden it was, the more his terror grew.

To make it worse, she would smile whenever she saw him tremble under her gaze.

More than once, Velric almost peed when their gaze met.

Graye and Nibbles, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to look at him.

However, soon, the doors groaned open, and Velric finally felt his bowels relax.

It was because he knew that Selena wouldn’t do anything bad to him with people watching.

After all, no matter what he had done to her in the past or how much she hated him, he was only useful to Raven as long as he was the king that people would respect.

If she did something that would make him look like a loser before so many people, then Raen would be disappointed in her, and Velric knew that Selena wouldn’t want that.

He glanced at Selena once, and, seeing her focused on the door of the hall, he also turned.

The nobles began to file in.

Ministers in embroidered robes. Counts, viscounts, and barons in their jeweled finery. Duchess Elvarine gliding like a phantom. A duke with a limp tapping his cane. The sound of murmurs filled the air, but Selena’s expression never shifted.

Graye, however, leaned down toward Nibbles. "Alright, little buddy, are you ready for this? Don’t disappoint me. If you don’t find a demon, I’m throwing you at the chandelier."

Nibbles raised a paw. A tiny sign appeared in glowing letters:

"Try me, armor Barbie."

Selena’s lips twitched, suppressing a laugh.

Velric, on the throne, hissed through his teeth. "Do you two mind not treating this like a circus? This is a royal inspection—"

"Relax, ’Your Majesty,’" Selena said smoothly, her tone cutting through his panic like silk. "That’s exactly what it will look like. An inspection. Theatrics are part of rulership."

Velric went pale, realizing the nobles were watching his every twitch.

But as the crowd gathered, Selena’s eyes narrowed slightly.

She counted them with surgical precision. The nobles’ numbers were... wrong—less than half of what should be present.

Velric noticed it too.

"One of the dukes... isn’t here," he muttered, his voice low, sweat beading at his temple.

Selena’s voice was calm but laced with meaning. "Which means that many were demons."

Velric almost groaned aloud but forced himself upright on the throne. His voice boomed, rehearsed but trembling at the edges.

"By the decree of Velmoria, an inspection shall be carried out by the Great Demon Sniffer—" his eye twitched toward Nibbles, who was cleaning his whiskers on Graye’s gauntlet, "—to ensure none among us are corrupted."

The room buzzed uneasily.

Graye strutted forward like a holy knight on parade, holding Nibbles out with both hands as though he were the crown jewel of the realm. "Fear not, peasants! For in my hands lies the mighty sniff machine! Demon radar! The holy relic of ’yeet detection’!"

Nibbles smacked her helmet with his tail. Another glowing sign appeared:

"Stop embarrassing me."

The nobles whispered, baffled. Selena’s shadow shifted beneath her gown, a devourer’s teeth flashing faintly in the dark.

One by one, Graye paraded Nibbles past the gathered lords.

She tilted her head with every squeak, announcing dramatically, "Clean. Clean. Ugh, definitely clean—sadly. I was hoping for a fight."

Velric sank lower into the throne with every word.

For a while, everything went on without a hitch.

That was until—

Nibbles froze. His beady eyes narrowed like twin daggers as he pointed his paw at a minister dressed in deep blue silk. His tail bristled, his squeak sharp and shrill.

The room went still.

Selena’s eyes narrowed to slits. Graye’s grin stretched wide.

It was clear that the minister was a demon. The great demon sniffer had ordained it.

The minister stiffened. ’So, it can really detect our demonic energy...’

It was clear because even though he was hiding it perfectly, he was sensed by the squirrel.

However, soon his eyes turned cold as he knew what he had to do.

If this squirrel were a sniffer, then he would have to be eliminated.

His mission was to confirm if this squirrel could actually sniff them and then act.

So, with a growl, he snapped forward, robes tearing as black veins crawled over his skin. His nails grew into hooked claws, his eyes blazing crimson, as his roar shook the court.

Every noble shrieked and scrambled back, their chairs crashing.

The demon lunged straight at Nibbles. His goal was clear: silence the sniffer.

But before he could reach him, Graye’s armored body shifted in a blur, covering the squirrel like a shield. The claws raked against her chestplate, sparks flying—yet she didn’t budge an inch.

She tilted her head, violet fire flickering across her armor. "Oh, sorry, did you just try to massage me? ’Cause I didn’t feel a damn thing."

Then, before the demon could react—WHAM!

Her armored palm smacked the demon sideways. The creature slammed into a pillar, stone exploding, his body crumpling in a heap.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Graye lifted Nibbles high, like a victorious gladiator. "AND THIS is why you don’t mess with my rodent relic!"

Nibbles puffed his chest, pulling out a sign that read:

"MVP."

But before anyone could breathe relief—

Five more nobles from the yet-unchecked group suddenly convulsed, skin splitting as they shed their human masks.

One baron roared, his jaw unhinging with fangs. A countess’s veil burned away to reveal eyes like burning coals.

In a second, the court was filled with monstrous shrieks.

Some nobles, especially Duchess Elvarine, also got ready to move, wanting to suppress the demons, but Selena, who knew Graye wouldn’t want that, turned toward Velric, her eyes cold and her voice sharp.

"Stop them."

She didn’t request but commanded, and Velric, knowing what was good for his health, screamed, "Stop! All of you stop!"

As soon as his voice was heard, everyone paused.

Well, everyone but the demons.

Graye just cracked her knuckles, violet flames spiraling higher with each pulse of her excitement. Her grin was feral, and her eyes were gleaming like a predator given exactly what she wanted.

She didn’t even move forward as she waited for the demons to reach her.

"That’s more like it."

The throne room shook with the promise of battle while Nibbles moved away from there, knowing that, unlike Alex, Graye wouldn’t dodge the attacks.

He didn’t want to get crushed between the demons and Graye.

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

Meanwhile, on the ground of Cradle in the Vaise territory, things were calmer than one would expect, contrary to the atmosphere in the throne room, which was charged with tension and Graye’s battle lust.

Right now, the courtyard didn’t shake with battle. Instead, it hummed with whispers.

The elders had gathered in clusters atop the rooftops, their once-commanding presences now fractured into worried murmurs.

Except for Joseph and Mariane, the two heads of the branch families, others couldn’t stay still.

Not after such a big decision was made.

Some debated Raven’s rise, others hissed about Zephyr’s fall, but all carried the same tension: uncertainty.

Joseph and Mariance, on the other hand, with the help of some elders, dragged the traitors across the broken courtyard.

Chains rattled, muffled protests rising as the prisoners were marched toward the deep stone stairwells beneath the Cradle—the underground prison few returned from.

The sound of the iron gates groaning shut echoed like judgment.

Argon stood apart from it all. His towering figure loomed beside Raven and his companions, watching in silence as Raven raised his hand.

Black destruction energy coiled around his palm like hungry fire as he moved.

The bound undead still wriggled in squirrel knots, but their thrashing ended as Raven’s energy swept over them.

The moment the aura touched their bodies, the corrupted husks began to crumble. Their forms shrieked without sound, flesh and bone unraveling into streams of ash that scattered into the golden air.

Siris whistled, leaning against her dagger. "It’s regretful how I couldn’t stab them to death. Now, the undead that can’t die are being turned into powder like overcooked breadsticks."

"Not funny," Jessy muttered, arms crossed, though her eyes didn’t leave Raven.

Alex leaned toward Rufus, his voice a stage whisper as he pointed at Argon. "Am I the only one thinking it’s weird he hasn’t dropped a dad joke yet? This is his brand."

Rufus’s helmet clicked softly. "Yeah... he’s being scary instead of... scary-but-cringe."

"Maybe he’s holding back," Clara suggested with a faint smile. "A joke would make him seem less intimidating. He can’t exactly terrify the council and then start punning."

Lia nodded. "That would... ruin the atmosphere."

At that, Argon finally turned.

His sharp eyes swept the courtyard.

The elders were far away in their circles, the prisoners already gone beneath stone. For once, the battlefield was theirs alone.

The patriarch’s lips curved slightly.

He gestured toward the drifting remains of the last undead, its ashes scattering like sand in the wind.

"So... these things were supposed to be unkillable, yes?" His tone was measured, deceptively calm.

The group blinked. They already knew what was coming.

Even Argon let the pause hang—then delivered, dry as desert air.

"Guess they just couldn’t handle the ashes-ination."

Silence.

Then Alex exploded into laughter, clutching his stomach. "OH GODS—HE’S BACK!"

Even Clara’s calm composure cracked into a laugh, Siris doubled over, and Rufus groaned, "There it is. The real patriarch."

Raven just sighed, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a smile.

He didn’t say it out loud, fearing a boost in Argon’s confidence, but this one was actually good.