Together

A solemn atmosphere enveloped the square.

Vivian stood motionless, the sharply tailored black Demon Lord robes making her silhouette even more striking.

“Today, here, we shall openly judge a group of parasites and traitors who betrayed Evernight Territory and every hardworking citizen within it!”

Her voice, amplified by mana, rolled across the entire square.

“They once enjoyed the privileges and compensation granted by this territory as nobles.”

“Yet in secret they colluded with foreign enemies, leaked military intelligence, incited unrest, and even plotted to destroy the fields and granaries we depend on for survival.”

“They sought to drag us back into that dark, oppressive past!”

Her gaze swept over the former nobles kneeling in a row below, bound by mana shackles.

At their head was Baron Bal, his face ashen.

“Empty words prove nothing. Let the evidence speak.”

Aria stepped onto the platform.

One by one she displayed intercepted letters, secret ledgers, tax-evasion records, and played image crystals of Bal’s clandestine meetings with Rem’s envoy.

When the irrefutable proof was revealed, the citizens below erupted in furious discussion, pointing and cursing the nobles’ betrayal.

“How dare they?! Lord Demon Lord gave them land and mana-crystal compensation, and still they weren’t satisfied!”

“Those damned old nobles just want to go back to the days of enslaving us!”

“They only ever wanted to treat us like slaves again!”

Memories of long oppression and the hope of new lives ignited the crowd’s rage like a volcano.

No one missed the old days of bowing and scraping before nobles, having most of each harvest seized, or being whipped at whim.

When the final crystal finished playing, Bal was dragged to the front of the platform.

He struggled, face twisted with fear and defiance, shrieking desperately.

“Slander! This is naked slander!”

“Forged evidence to eliminate dissent! It’s all fake!”

“I never betrayed Evernight!”

“Forged?”

Vivian gave a cold laugh and signaled Lucia to bring forth his tax archives.

“Baron Bal, the amount you owe in back taxes this year alone—”

She flipped open the ledger and read aloud.

“Through unreported mineral income, falsified mana-crystal losses, and collusion with tax officials, the total evaded—converted to standard mana crystals—could fully equip three border villages like Graystone with mana engines and tools for ten years!”

“That secret mine of yours alone is worth far more than all your declared holdings!”

“And this is only what I’ve uncovered since resuming governance!”

“I dare not imagine how much wealth meant for Demon Lord City and territorial development you and your family devoured in previous years!”

Another uproar swept the crowd.

Curses rose like a storm.

“You treated us like fools?!”

“Blood-sucking worms! Give us back our sweat and blood!”

Bal’s face drained of color. He could no longer speak.

Finally, the adjudicator announced the verdict.

“Primary offender Bal—collusion with foreign enemies, inciting rebellion, tax evasion—multiple crimes.”

“Sentence: permanent exile. He will join Marquis Victor.”

“All family property confiscated to repair southern irrigation pipelines and improve farmland.”

“Accomplices sentenced to one to five years of labor or corresponding fines, proceeds to compensate affected citizens and fund village infrastructure.”

The moment the judgment ended, the square exploded into deafening cheers.

“Lord Demon Lord is wise!”

“Support the new policies! Eliminate the traitors!”

“We’ll never listen to those lies again! We follow Lord Demon Lord!”

Vivian raised a hand for silence, her gaze sweeping over citizens and officials alike.

“People of Evernight!”

“Our path forward has never been smooth.”

“We abolished slavery, spread knowledge, built workshops, improved crops—all so every diligent worker may live with dignity and hope through their own hands!”

“Yet some cling to outdated ideas and even conspire with enemies to destroy our home.”

She paused, voice rising.

“So I declare: unity and discipline are Evernight’s greatest treasures!”

“Only by standing as one can we withstand economic strangulation from outside, face human threats, grow more grain, and forge more tools!”

“The road ahead will have storms, but if our hearts and strength pull together, no obstacle is insurmountable!”

“Evernight’s future belongs firmly in the hands of every honest, hardworking laborer—not scheming traitors who betray their own!”

Thunderous applause and cheers answered her.

They had never known days like these—real fields of their own, real wealth, no more crushing miscellaneous taxes.

The Demon Lord’s will now walked among them; she was no longer just a distant title the old nobles used to oppress them.

The trial concluded.

Citizens gradually dispersed.

Vivian remained on the platform, gazing at the thriving city in the distance.

Aria stood silently beside her, expression grave.

“The internal tumors have been cut out—for now.”

Vivian spoke softly.

“Next, we prepare for real war.”

She knew—whether from humans or hostile Demon Lords—her time for peaceful development was running out.

Aria’s face grew complicated.

“Lord Demon Lord!”

She suddenly spoke.

“I have a request.”

“Permission to carry out military reform and form a special unit!”

Vivian raised a brow, surprised.

“Oh? Tell me.”

“Rem’s collusion with the old nobles reveals his ambitions plainly. War is inevitable.”

“Human forces watch like tigers.”

“Our regular army, though retrained, still cannot handle future multi-front, high-intensity, or unconventional conflicts.”

Aria spoke quickly and clearly.

“I propose a small, elite special force.”

“Selected from the best of the new army, trained in deep coordination with As’s Shadowmoon wolves.”

“Focus: night raids, behind-enemy-lines infiltration, precision decapitation strikes, intelligence and counter-intelligence, extreme environments, and special targets.”

She paused, then added.

“Also, those strange ‘anomalous adventurers’ at the border—regular patrols can’t track or counter them effectively.”

“This unit would specialize in such irregular threats and sudden crises.”

“We already have the shadow attendants screened and preliminarily trained during the intelligence operations. They can form the backbone.”

Vivian hadn’t expected Aria to have planned this far.

She nodded decisively.

“Excellent idea. Special operations will cover the regular army’s weaknesses.”

“Go ahead. Whatever resources, training grounds, or personnel you need—just tell me or Lucia. Full support.”

She never doubted Aria’s ability or loyalty; the head maid was not only a fierce fighter but a gifted commander.

“Just mind the training intensity. We need elites who win battles, not broken soldiers.”

“Understood!”

Aria saluted sharply and strode off, disappearing toward the square’s edge.

Vivian smiled, shook her head, and turned to leave.

Before she could reach the council hall, Elder Thomas came running with two craftsmen, panting, clutching a bizarre metal device.