Literacy

The next few days were somewhat monotonous.

Vivian’s routine revolved around feeding and tending to Luna, handling paperwork, adjusting her plans, and pushing forward her agenda—a repetitive cycle.

At her simple stone desk, scrolls, parchment, and rough wooden tablets piled high: supply lists, construction progress reports, registries of new residents, documents reconnecting with scattered villages,

and tax records from merchant caravans.

Each required her review, approval, or adjustments to the finer details of her plans.

Aria and other captains reported regularly, bringing updates on Evernight City’s latest developments and issues, requiring Vivian to make swift decisions on resource allocation and reconstruction priorities.

Occasionally, she’d inspect the city herself, her boots crunching on the uneven gravel paths, gazing at the nascent city rising from the ruins.

Nearly four months had passed since Evernight City’s reconstruction began, and it was taking shape.

The city, once reduced to rubble, now resembled a proper town.

The makeshift shanties hastily built for displaced residents were gradually being replaced by sturdier, well-planned wooden and stone homes.

Smoke curled from newly built chimneys, and children’s laughter echoed through organized alleys, replacing the former silence.

Even more encouraging, the foundations for the first batch of permanent houses had been laid, with several simpler homes already topped out and undergoing interior finishing.

Housing allocation had begun, prioritizing returning craftsmen and families with young children.

Though far from prosperous, a vibrant sense of order was taking root.

Of course, there were minor incidents along the way.

Aria and several captains from traditional demon nobility formally proposed prioritizing the construction of a new [Demon Lord’s Fortress] as a symbol of Evernight City’s rebirth.

“Lord Demon Lord, Evernight City’s revival symbolizes our territory’s unyielding will.”

“Your new, grand [Demon Lord’s Fortress] should take precedence, standing as a beacon to guide all demonkind and proclaim our resolve for revival!”

The proposal was echoed by several old-school demons, their eyes gleaming with nostalgia for the former Demon Lord’s Castle and reverence for symbolic power.

Vivian rejected it outright.

“No need. All tasks and resources should focus on rebuilding and restoring livelihoods.”

“A Demon Lord’s Fortress… is unnecessary. I’m perfectly fine in my tent.”

She stated firmly.

“B-But, Lord Demon Lord, the fortress isn’t just your residence—it’s the defensive core of Evernight City…”

They persisted, unwilling to let it go.

“I understand your intent, but the Demon Lord’s Castle is more than a stone fortress.”

“It requires vast defensive arrays, countless mana stones for power, a multilayered magical defense system, command posts, storage depots, and mana hubs.”

“It’s an enormous, resource-intensive project.”

She paused, eyeing the gathered demons.

“Our reconstruction has only just begun. Building a hollow shell now would squander precious resources just for appearances.”

“Would our enemies cower because we built a pretty shell?”

The crowd fell silent, speechless.

The Demon Lord’s Castle wasn’t a mere fortress—it demanded intricate arrays, mana stones, and defense systems.

An empty shell was meaningless, and Vivian had no intention of constructing such an outdated defense.

‘What era is this, still building castles? Times have changed, primitives! Truth lies within cannon range—hit me with firepower and maneuver warfare!’

That was her thought, but the path to her envisioned [Demonkind Modernization] was still distant.

She’d take it step by step.

A significant piece of good news was that Evernight Territory had successfully reconnected to the “Mana Net,” the ancient network of mana nodes and magic towers spanning the demon realm, essential for

long-distance communication, information transfer, and certain magical infrastructure.

During Vivian’s month-long absence, the restored Mana Net had drawn demon merchant caravans back to the territory.

A fledgling market had spontaneously formed at Evernight City’s outskirts, filled with the scents of goods, livestock, and food, and the hum of haggling.

The core draw for these caravans was Evernight Territory’s specialty: Evernight Crystals.

These crystals were a hard currency across the demon realm.

While other regions produced them, Evernight’s crystals, especially from Blackthorn Village’s mines, were unmatched in purity, energy stability, and ease of processing.

Merchants arrived with grain, cloth, tools, livestock, and even luxuries, trading for these valuable minerals.

With the caravans’ return, other regions were gradually resuming activity, with villages and settlements trading their own goods for food and essentials.

This explained why Evernight Territory had collapsed so swiftly after the city’s fall and the Mana Net’s disconnection: isolated, cut off from information, and starved of trade and vital crops.

Reading Aria’s report on small-scale independent trading resuming in nearby villages, Vivian sighed in relief.

For now, the scattered demon communities were regaining basic survival and self-reliance, sparing her from urgent relief efforts.

She could focus on managing Evernight City and its most valuable industries.

“But… it’s about time to push the next phase of the plan.”

Vivian glanced at the population statistics, musing silently.

The next step: population guidance and centralization.

Or rather, literacy.

Three waves of returnees, totaling three to four thousand, had come back to Evernight City.

Including those from Blackthorn Village, Graystone Keep, and the soldiers who returned with Vivian, the city’s population now exceeded ten thousand.

Reclamation, production, and reconstruction were progressing smoothly.

With steady development, Evernight City would soon be rebuilt.

It was time to introduce literacy education.

Throughout the demon realm’s long, turbulent history, ordinary demons had amassed survival wisdom, rudimentary techniques, and unique insights into magic.

Yet most of these sparks were buried in ignorance.

Why? Because they couldn’t read or write.

Without tools to record, share, or refine knowledge, talented artisans relied on experience and fragmented oral traditions, unable to advance.

Creative ideas from commoners often faded like fleeting dreams, unrecorded, unorganized, and unrefined, reduced to tavern chatter.

Vivian knew human history’s literacy spread often accompanied industrial revolutions, driven top-down by resource-controlling elites.

But Evernight Territory couldn’t wait for such slow progress.

With only one body, Vivian couldn’t personally invent, refine, or document countless techniques.

She needed a bottom-up, widespread knowledge enlightenment to ignite the spark of progress.

In short—less talk, more action.

Vivian planned to mandate that everyone, after work, dedicate at least half an hour to an hour daily to literacy classes.

The initial focus would be simple, practical words: numbers, farm tools, crops, even their own names, enabling them to read basic notices and labels.

To ensure consistency and effectiveness, Vivian spent late nights after her duties drafting materials.

She discarded the complex ancient demon script, simplifying and standardizing a basic vocabulary and pronunciation system, creating the *Evernight Territory Basic Literacy Manual (Volume 1)*.

The manual was practical, illustrated with her own simple sketches, starting with dozens of common words.

She tasked her modestly educated mages and succubi with teaching it.

Inside the tent, Luna and her sisters stood in a row, their usual ice-melting, sweet smiles ready for a task requiring their “charm”—perhaps negotiating with a stubborn caravan leader or boosting morale.

But when they heard Vivian’s new assignment, they were stunned.

The tent fell silent, save for the faint crackle of burning fuel.

“Lord Demon Lord…”

“Uh, Lord Demon Lord?”

The succubi exchanged glances, and Luna, summoning her courage, stepped forward, her voice tinged with rare hesitation.

“You mean… we’re to teach others to read and write?”

Her face betrayed disbelief, as if the task was more absurd than charming an abyssal dragon.

“Yes, exactly.”

Vivian nodded, addressing the group of alluring succubi with certainty.

“Succubi, born with an innate mastery of charm magic, are naturally gifted learners. Most demons average an intelligence of 5, but succubi start at 10, and casting spells requires knowledge of magical

scripts.”

“You’re the perfect choice for leading the initial literacy efforts.”

Clearly, none of the succubi had anticipated this task, and they exchanged bewildered looks.

“Uh… with all due respect, Lord Demon Lord, I understand teaching soldiers to read and write, but why make civilians sacrifice an hour of rest after work for this?”

Luna, though unquestioningly loyal, voiced her confusion on behalf of her sisters.

“I don’t see how learning to write their names or recognize tools will change anything for them. Won’t their lives stay the same?”

“No need to concern yourself with that.”

Vivian’s voice was calm as she shook her head.

“Just carry out the order, Luna. Lead your sisters, follow the manual, and start with the basics. Aria will assist with locations, times, and group assignments.”

She had no intention of explaining further on the spot—her subordinates’ job was to execute her commands loyally.

“Yes, Lord Demon Lord.”

Though still puzzled, the succubi complied with unwavering loyalty.

****

Over the next few days, Evernight City witnessed an unprecedented sight.

In a cleared, relatively flat area at the city’s center, Aria directed soldiers to build several simple but spacious sheds using thick logs and sturdy planks, serving as makeshift “classrooms.”

There were no desks or chairs—only rows of low wooden stumps as seats.

Each person received a smooth, dark slate and a soft white stone stick as a makeshift chalk.

As dusk settled over Evernight City, weary demons, exhausted from a day’s labor, trudged to this “learning zone.”

Instead of stern instructors or dour scholars, they were greeted by a dozen succubi, dressed modestly but still radiant, their expressions tinged with nervous anticipation.