Want to Change the World

Within the study, time seemed congealed by the heavy drapes and the mountains of piled books.

The air hung thick with the scent of aged paper, dust, and a faint, almost imperceptible freshness—like mint—clinging to the Hero.

“Why didn’t you kill me?”

“You’ve asked that eight times now.

It’s getting boring.”

In response to the purple-haired Demon Lord’s question, the silver-haired girl let out a lazy yawn.

The silver-haired Hero girl lounged slantwise in the armchair opposite.

Languidly turning the pages of a thick tome with her slender fingers—fingers that betrayed no hint of strength.

Yet her azure eyes weren’t focused on the text at all.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly, like a lost firefly, drifting over bookshelves, window frames, and Vivian.

“I can’t help it.

My heart just won’t settle.”

Vivian closed the book in her hands as well.

Gazing steadily at Lucia, she replied slowly.

Even after being brought back to Lucia’s grand castle, Vivian still felt a lingering unease.

And today, as Vivian—as always—lingered in the study to peruse books, Lucia had wandered in out of nowhere.

Joining her in flipping through pages, as if compelled by some whim.

“You always say I seem ‘special’ to you, but Lucia, don’t you know that kind of line fools no one?”

Vivian sighed.

Her fingertip absently traced the book’s cover.

Then she paused.

Her gaze flicked to the tome in Lucia’s hands—an arid theological treatise, utterly mismatched to her style.

“By the way, weren’t you never interested in books?

Why bother coming over to keep me company?

This isn’t like you.”

“Hey~

Mind your own business.”

Lucia’s lips curved abruptly.

Forming an ambiguous arc—part flirtatious, part probing, laced with playful mischief.

She tossed the book onto the side table with a soft “thud.”

Leaning forward slightly.

Her ice-blue eyes locked onto Vivian.

“I’m just curious, Vivian.

You’re a Demon Lord—why the interest in these long-winded human books?

Either fawning praise or pointless whining.”

Vivian fell silent for a beat.

Her crimson eyes bored straight into Lucia’s blue ones.

As if straining to pierce the thoughts of the mightiest Hero before her.

“…Just a bit of familiarity.”

Vivian watched Lucia.

And Lucia watched her in turn.

After a long moment, Vivian shook her head helplessly.

Resigning herself to the answer.

“Anyway, my mana’s sealed now.

My range is limited to your castle.

You’ve stripped it of anything valuable except these bookshelves.

I’m not some child itching for a ‘castle exploration’ game.

To kill time as your long-term prisoner, besides flipping through these long, stinking, rotten books, what else can I do?”

“Mmm.”

Vivian couldn’t help but chuckle at her words.

Her gaze settled on Lucia’s faintly furrowed brow.

Bai An responded in a tone of utter world-weariness.

Lucia hummed thoughtfully, as if pondering something.

Truth be told, life in the castle was dreadfully monotonous and serene.

Mornings: waking in an echoing, empty chamber.

Days: spent in the study with these weighty tomes.

Nights… returning to that equally vast bedroom, enduring Lucia’s demands—sometimes tender, sometimes forceful.

In simple terms: mornings bored with books, evenings in the room… servicing Lucia…

A regimented routine.

A secure cage.

“Tch, being a Demon Lord sure is stifling.”

‘Bai An couldn’t help thinking so in her heart, but… alive is enough.’

And just as Bai An meant to reopen her book and resume her interrupted reading, she suddenly heard the faint scrape of chair legs against the polished stone floor.

Lucia had stood.

‘Finally bored of me?

Good—saves her from bothering me further.’

Bai An didn’t look up.

She merely pinched the edge of a page with her fingertip.

Trying to flip back to where she’d left off.

But then, a strand of low-hanging, moonlit silver hair slipped into the corner of her vision.

Followed by a faint, cool breath.

Gently brushing her cheek.

“…What are you doing?”

Bai An turned her head involuntarily.

Meeting that flawless face, inches away.

She sighed.

Resignedly closing the book she’d just cracked open once more.

With a dull thud.

“Daytime already?

Enough’s enough.”

Bai An’s tone held no joy or anger.

Just a numb sort of calm.

Such abrupt intimacies between them were hardly novel anymore.

“Not that.”

Lucia grinned lightly.

“Bai An, if I said I want to change the world—would you believe me?”

Bai An’s expression remained blank.

Staring at the Hero before her, so close.

Pondering what fresh flirtation this might be.

“You’re joking?”

She replied.

“No.”

Lucia answered breezily.

Then, with effortless poise—and an air of unquestionable command—she pivoted.

Sliding sideways onto Bai An’s lap!

Her arms looped directly around Bai An’s neck.

Drawing their faces near.

Bai An’s breath hitched, audible.

Lucia, with an ambiguous smile, continued:

“I’m serious.”

“You don’t look it.

And that line sounds pretty sleazy, by the way.”

Vivian’s expression toward the Hero before her showed no shift.

Want me?

Just take me.

When did we need to dive into “my dysfunctional family” or “I have trauma” sob-story territory?

Wrong script, isn’t it?

“I’ve dreamed of a happy life.”

The Hero lady half-reclined in Vivian’s embrace.

Flashing a roguish grin that clashed with her heroic bearing.

Her fingers idly toyed with, twined, and fiddled a stray lock of purple hair.

Then, tilting her head up to meet Vivian’s gaze, she said slowly:

“…A happy life?

You could have that right now.”

Vivian was utterly baffled by Lucia’s words.

“Isn’t a happy life simple for you now?”

Vivian tried to parse the leaping logic.

“You could live the happy life countless people envy.

Slay the Demon Lord, claim world-shaking feats, wield continent-renowned supreme strength, become the Humans’ uncrowned hero—

Just show your face on the front lines symbolically, play it safe, and the Church and kingdoms won’t treat you like a deity?

Money, status, power, beauties—what can’t you have?

For you, isn’t happiness right at hand?”

Her tone carried a subtle, almost imperceptible sarcasm.

Aimed at Lucia’s “affectations”—and mirroring her own plight.

“…Not that kind of happy life.”

At Vivian’s words, Lucia paused in silence.

The smile faded from her face.

Something lurked in the depths of her azure eyes.

Then, she rested her chin lightly on Vivian’s shoulder.

“I was orphaned young, raised by the Rhine Holy Church—”

“For a long time, what I craved was that ordinary happiness—a home, my own warmth, blood-tied family…

I thought that was everything.”

“For a while before, I yearned for that so-called family and affection.

But after having you, I still find my thoughts so shallow.

I can’t be easily satisfied.

My heart feels empty, like an abyss that can’t be filled.”

Lucia drew a deep breath.

Continuing:

“Merely being happy myself—no matter how easily attained, how enviable…

It leaves me with this vast emptiness, this nothingness.”

“It’s like… a privilege.”

“A privilege born of my power, my status—mine alone.”

“That’s wrong—so I’ve thought on it for days.”

“I want a happy life.

But more than that, I want to see everyone attain happiness.

Otherwise, everything I have feels like mere privilege.

My happiness becomes a castle in the air, built on others’ suffering—utterly meaningless.”

‘So, I want to change this world.

Vivian, can you help me?’

‘Why would a Demon Lord you’ve imprisoned help you change the world—’

In that instant, Vivian jolted awake.

She snapped her head up.

A trace of just-wakened daze in her crimson demonic eyes.

‘Did I fall asleep?’

Gazing at the stack of documents on the desk before her, Vivian blanked for a moment.

‘It really…’

She let out a sigh.

Laden with heavy fatigue and an indescribable tangle of emotions.

Why dream again of those days in the Holy City with Lucia?

She sighed once more.

Murmuring to herself.

Her fingertip absently pressed her faintly throbbing temple.

Then, she lowered her head.

Her gaze fell to her abdomen—its outline increasingly pronounced, slipped partially free by the loose sleep robe.

There, a tiny life tied to her blood—yet half-bearing the blood of her arch-foe—grew and developed.

Ever more evident.

Not just the contour; Vivian could feel this little one’s pulses more keenly now.

It had been fully three months since she’d conceived.

And even now, a month after routing the crusade army and formally rebuilding the Evernight Territory.

But… change the world?

What an arduous feat.

And her own world had long been upended by that woman.

Moreover, you’re dead.

Vivian drew a deep breath.

Closing her eyes once more.

‘You’re dead, Lucia.

How long will you haunt my dreams?’

She murmured to herself.

Then, she shook her head slightly.

Clearing her thoughts a touch.

Before plunging back into the work at hand.

The departed were gone.

The living endured.

And work never ceased.

But then again…

Lucia, are you really dead?