Pretending

Meanwhile, Angst didn’t confine herself to the luxurious comfort of her tent, waiting for headquarters’ response or reports from subordinates.

Like the most patient of hunters, the shrewd drow manager began a meticulous “inspection” of Evernight Territory.

She donned understated traveler’s garb, accompanied only by two guards whose auras were the most restrained.

Moving like an ordinary merchant, she roamed daily through the rebuilding districts of Evernight City.

Her sharp gaze was cleverly masked under casual glances.

Angst observed the neatly divided, orderly residential zones.

She lingered at the temporary literacy classes run by succubus teachers, listening to the clumsy yet earnest reading voices drifting out.

Blending into the bustling canteen, she even “happened” to pass by the work zones trialing a new performance-based system.

She watched foremen distribute wooden tokens and points for extra food based on work volume and quality, noting the workers’ ignited enthusiasm.

Vivian was well aware of this and even welcomed it.

Through Aria’s intelligence network and her own magic, she kept close tabs on Angst’s general movements.

Everything in Evernight City happened under the sun, with little need for shadowy secrets—at least on the surface.

The rebuilding efforts were laid bare before this potential investor.

Vivian was confident that this raw, vibrant struggle for renewal was a compelling testament to a ruler’s capability and the territory’s potential, more persuasive than any grand promises.

The Goldmelt Caravan’s massive camp, like a boulder dropped into a still lake, sent ripples through Evernight’s outskirts.

Smaller vendors from the trade district, like ants drawn to honey, began clustering around, hoping to scavenge scraps from the behemoth’s jaws.

Carrying their hard-won, eclectic goods, these vendors, both fearful and eager, formed a small, noisy impromptu market outside the Goldmelt camp.

It stood in stark contrast to the caravan’s orderly, heavily guarded main hub.

Angst seemed unbothered by this “parasitic” behavior, even tacitly allowing it.

Her guards didn’t drive the vendors away, instead monitoring them closely to prevent unrest or espionage.

Occasionally, low-ranking caravan managers traded overlooked, bottom-of-the-barrel goods for fresh produce, clean water, or local trinkets.

This subtle interplay between commercial entities of vastly different scales injected a spark of mercantile vitality into the desolate edges of Evernight City.

But the influx of people brought more noise, more opportunities, and more potential for chaos.

Evernight’s guards had to increase patrol frequency and intensity.

Aria was run ragged, coordinating the allocation and surveillance of the slaves “loaned” by Angst, guarding against potential spies or saboteurs, and handling the growing number of minor trade disputes

and scuffles.

Amid this rising clamor, Vivian’s core tent remained an island of calm in the storm’s eye.

Returning to her tent, Vivian resumed caring for Lunai and handling administrative duties.

The tent’s soft lighting cast a steady, warm glow.

Seated at her familiar stone desk, Vivian frowned slightly, swiftly reviewing various reports.

A Demon Lord’s computational ability far surpassed ordinary minds.

Her fingertips grazed documents, mana automatically inscribing her decisions, a highly efficient method she’d recently devised.

‘Why let my mana go to waste when I’m a Demon Lord?’

Nearby, in her cradle, little Lunai was awake.

She seemed fascinated by the faint mana fluctuations her mother emitted while working.

Her crystal-clear eyes followed the invisible energy flows, her tiny hands waving as if to grasp them, cooing softly without fuss.

Occasionally, Vivian would look up from her work, glance at her daughter, and pause.

She’d walk to the cradle, gently tease Lunai, murmur a few tender words, or simply gaze at her quietly for a moment.

Yet, Vivian’s attention never fully strayed from two particular entities.

She kept a close watch on Carol’s flesh puppets, “Lolo” and “Lili,” monitoring whether they were working properly or secretly causing trouble.

A portion of her formidable mental energy maintained a constant, distant link to the agricultural test fields and the temporary medical station.

There, the golden-haired elf girls “Lolo” and “Lili” were “diligently” fulfilling their roles.

To Vivian’s magical surveillance, Carol was indeed controlling her puppets to work earnestly—the druid tending crops, the life priestess aiding at the medical station.

Through her shared magical vision, Vivian saw “Lolo,” the druid, crouched beside a freshly tilled field, the air heavy with the scent of earth.

Her slender, pale fingers dug into the dark soil, her lips chanting ancient, obscure nature spells.

A faint, pure emerald glow emanated from her.

Before her, a row of newly sown fast-growing magic grain seeds sprouted visibly, pushing through the soil, unfurling tender leaves.

While not dramatically rapid, their growth was noticeably healthier and more vigorous than nearby naturally grown crops.

Her expression was focused, sweat beading on her forehead, as if genuinely pouring effort into nurturing life.

At the medical station, a large tent filled with the bitter scent of herbs and the groans of patients, “Lili,” the life priestess, was even busier.

Her delicate figure stood out amid the anxious and suffering crowd.

Holding a bowl of water glowing with gentle white light, she carefully fed it to a minotaur laborer whose arm was crushed by stonework.

Her fingertips occasionally brushed wounds, channeling faint, soothing life energy to ease pain and speed healing.

She tended to each patient with patience and gentleness, even using halting Demon Clan common tongue to offer comfort.

Her pure elven appearance and the faint divine aura of her life magic softened even the roughest demon patients, their gazes holding a touch of gratitude.

Carol’s “performance” was flawless.

Whether the druid’s affinity for nature or the priestess’s compassion, she mimicked them impeccably, fooling most observers.

She used no power beyond the low-tier scope of these roles, perfectly adhering to her claim that “these bodies have no real strength.”

“…Quite the act.”

Vivian, observing Carol’s display, was mildly surprised.

As Carol had said, these puppets posed little threat… but Vivian remained vigilant, dedicating mental energy and mana to continuous monitoring.

For her, this was no significant burden.