Soaring across the forest just above the treeline, Serenis carefully eyed the sight below her. Soon enough, an enormous clearing came to view, occupied by wooden structures of all sorts that faintly glowed in the magic that coated them.


    As the dragon landed before the sylvan fortress with a resonating thud, several sylphs rushed out to greet the last guest that had arrived into their stronghold.


    “…Welcome, Lord Serenis! Uh, if you could please reduce your form before entering…”


    “…”


    When one of the sylphs approached to greet her – presumably one of the lower breeds – Serenis scoffed at the words being spoken. She instead eyed the stone palace he was gesturing towards, her gaze narrowing from the piercing mana radiating from within.


    “…I suppose your king doesn’t feel the need to greet me in person.”


    The sylph winced in fear as the dragonlord’s aura seemed to envelop the area surrounding them. He quickly lowered his head even further, hurrying his answer in a bout of panic.


    “F, forgive me, dragonlord! The other lords have already arrived, so…Lord Nodhyle may be somewhat occupied for the time being…”


    Serenis returned her attention to the bowing sylph. Her eyes studied him from head to toe, noting the numerous scars running across his bluish skin. Most were hidden under clothing and bandage, but the sheer amount was impossible to hide fully.


    And finally, the dragonlord opened her mouth in a low, drowned-out voice.


    “Did he appoint you to greet my arrival?”


    “Y…yes? I was told to serve as your guide…”


    “I see.”


    The dragonlord’s understanding tone put a smile onto the sylph. His hopes momentarily surged as he anticipated for Serenis to reduce her form and follow his guide.


    Unfortunately, it only lasted until the dragonlord’s foreclaws trampled him underneath.


    Several sylphs flinched at the bloody crushing noise, as well as the pool of blue blood that formed beneath the dragonlord’s talons.


    After letting out another resounding snort, Serenis finally reduced her form, shaking off the bits of liquid that had stained her hand.


    Not a single glance was spared the dead sylph or the trembling onlookers as she made her way towards Nodhyle’s palace.


    Despite having no others to guide her, Serenis had no trouble finding her way through the sylvan structure. This wasn’t her first visit, and to boot, a gathering of five other lords was impossible to overlook.


    When the dragonlord finally threw open the doors leading into the sylvan king’s guest hall, she could see the other demonlords gathered about around a circular stone table.


    But Serenis’ eyes instantly locked with a blue-skinned king across the table before her.


    Clad in pieces of gold-encrusted armor worn over a rather simply tunic, the sylphlord’s golden eyes emitted an eerie glow amidst his grey, colorless hair. A weak smile betrayed his indifference as he looked up to meet his elder sister’s gaze.


    “Looks like our last guest’s finally arrived.”


    “…Nodhyle.”


    “Hm. It seems I’ve caught you in a rather ill mood, sister. Did my invitation interrupt your slumbers?”


    “I am not your sister.”


    “And yet we share a father who’d say otherwise.”


    Faking an uninterested, cursory glance behind the dragonlord, Nodhyle’s smile became more pronounced as he continued to speak.


    “What of your guide? I personally assigned one to welcome your arrival.”


    “…”


    After an exasperated sigh, Serenis stomped her way into the room, seating herself in the last and final seat across the sylvan king. Her arms crossed in evident annoyance as she spat out her next answer.


    “Dead.”


    “Oh? On a day where we are to celebrate our survival? How cruel of you, Serenis.”


    “…”


    Instead of an answer, a menacing glare was all the sylphlord received in response.


    Uncomfortable silence ensued as the two demonlords began to stare each other down to oblivion. Another laid back on their seat and wistfully stared into the ceiling; another annoyingly floated about upside-down in the air, playfully waving their hand in front of the sylphlord’s unflinching eyes.


    Finally, Kelador cleared his throat to break the silence weighing down upon them.


    “…Come on, Serenis. No need to give the death stare at the poor fool.”


    The staring content immediately broke apart as both their glares fell upon the velklord instead of each other.


    “I’m not giving a death stare.”


    “And who are you calling a fool, turtle?”


    Kelador rolled his eyes, tapping his scaled fingertip against the magicked stone table. He warily eyed the sylphlord with a sarcastic grin.


    “Look Nod, we get it. You’re worried that an impostor would show up instead of us. But that’s no reason to keep sending your kin to test us every visit.”


    “They’re defects; traitors to the kin. It was kindness to allow their deaths to serve a noble purpose.”


    “That doesn’t change the fact that you sent sylphs to play decoy and shove poisoned knives behind our backs.”


    “And were you a fake, I would’ve caught an insolent fool daring to impede my stronghold with nary a cost.”


    Sensing the argument going nowhere at all, another lord chimed in, this time to change the topic altogether. After briskly floating over to hover over the table’s centre, her pointed tail slapped across both the velklord’s and sylphlord’s faces as she turned midair.


    “Oh, shut it, you two! Don’t you remember what father said?! No fighting during celebrations!”


    “…”


    “…”


    Despite their respective pride and positions, both kings piped down surprisingly quickly at the mention of their father. Even Serenis relaxed her posture, her glare softening in an instant.


    When the room’s atmosphere sufficiently loosened, the floating demonlord nodded in satisfaction – though she remained hovering before everyone’s eyes. Combined with her scantily-clad figure, the sight was extremely difficult to ignore.


    “We barely see each other anymore, it’d be a shame to waste what precious time we have with fighting. Besides, this year’s been special!”


    “…Special?”If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Serenis curiously raised a brow at the unexpected announcement. She glanced around the table to see the other lords nodding in agreement, though she had no idea what they were actually nodding about.


    Noticing the dragonlord’s confusion, Kelador once again chimed in to provide context to the dragonlord.


    “Well, you see…the behemoths had another succession rite. See?”


    When Serenis followed the direction Kelador was pointing at, she saw a horned, purple-skinned individual seated on one of the tables. Their pointed ears and flowing black hair seemed pretty much identical to what the dragonlord had previously seen among the bloodthirsty tribe, but she did note the acute difference in horn size.


    The last beastlord only had a pair of broken horns. This one’s horns were fully intact.


    “…Yet another beastlord to replace the last. What a pleasant surprise.”


    The dragonlord’s sarcasm was met by a glint of violet eyes staring directly into her figure.


    However, instead of the violent lashing that she expected from the previous behemoths she’d seen taking the throne, this one merely returned a faint smile back to her sarcastic comment.


    “Ivaratus. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”


    “…?”


    Serenis widened her eyes in surprise. The others seemed likewise surprised, though not quite to her extent.


    Noticing the dragonlord’s quizzical, almost doubtful expression, Ivaratus let out a loud laughter at her confusion.


    “Ha! What’s with the disappointed look?”


    “…I expected a more…violent response.”


    “We do have that tendency, don’t we?”


    The beastlord mused for a moment, letting his own behavior – or lack thereof – to sink in. Considering that his predecessors had all been quick to rage and rampage, his calm, sensible behavior was completely out of line among his tribe.


    “I may be an oddity, but I’m fairly certain it’s to your advantage, dragonlord. Our tribe’s tendencies ultimately root from lack of control – something a king ought to exercise in plenty. To borrow your words, our previous lords were all ‘defects’ that were bound to be replaced.”


    “Is that so? And I thought your tribe was behind saving.”


    “Ha. I won’t deny that most of us are slaves to our thirst for blood; I’m also well aware that we’ve been nothing but trouble for the rest of you lot. I cannot promise a full cessation of our underlings overstepping their boundaries, but I can promise a lessening of it.”


    Serenis’ gaze once again narrowed in doubt. But before the dragonlord could say something cynical again, the floating demonlord quickly interjected, physically cutting off the conversation by blocking her vision with her body.


    “See, Serenis? This one’s different! He’s scary strong just like the old beastlords, but he talks more than he howls. That’s a big change.”


    “I suppose…”


    Serenis stared up at the floating figure for another moment. But she soon looked away, unwilling to stare at so much skin floating about before her eyes, covered in nothing but a single layer of thin, black fabric.


    “…Return to your seat, Lucid.”


    “Oh? Am I being an eyesore?”


    Curving their lips into a seductive smile, the floating demonlord lightly stepped onto the stone table. She lowered herself into a sitting posture and leaned forward, pressing an oddly-colored pair of red and blue eyes uncomfortably close towards the dragonlord.


    Following suit, glittering black lights shrouded her figure before she’d emerge anew from within.


    The violet hair cascading down unto her back had were shortened to the same length as Kelador’s. Her thin, smooth figure emerged far more muscled and rugged than before, and the jewelry decorating what little attire she wore had changed their colors from red to blue.


    Brimming with confidence, Lucid wove their hand in front of Serenis as they spoke once more – this time in a husky, masculine voice.


    “I’d transform into a dragon, but I don’t think this chamber would hold if I did that. But this is decent too, isn’t it?”


    “Lucid.”


    “What is it, darling?”


    “Return to your seat.”


    “…Aww. Cold as always, Serenis.”


    After a disappointed shrug, Lucid began trudging back to their seat. But when Kelador let out a small snicker on their way back, Lucid leaned into the velklord’s ear, whispering in a barely audible voice.


    “Laugh all you want, Kelly. Unlike you, I’ve seen her naked.”


    “Wait, what?!”


    This time, it was Lucid’s turn to snicker. Kelador darted his gaze between the dreamlord and Serenis in panic, unable to form any coherent words.


    Nodhyle shook his head until Lucid finally returned to his seat. The sylph king then cleared his throat to cleanse the atmosphere of any awkwardness before finally addressing what they’d gathered for.


    “…Anyhow…I do appreciate all of you taking the time to gather today. As you all know, tonight is the night when the year’s moon shines at its fullest; tonight is the night our brethren were brought to exist, all by our father’s hands.”


    After a brief pause, the sylphlord raised his head with a solemn gaze. At the flick of his finger, the stone ceiling seemed to melt away, revealing the glittering night sky and the full moon showering them in its light.


    “Tonight is the night we, as demonkind, celebrate another successful of all our brethren’s survival. While the passage of time may hold little meaning to the lords, we give thanks for the blessing that is our world, and honor the efforts that have brought us to this day – lest we forget the work of our father and kin.”


    After a brief pause, Nodhyle turned his head to face the other lords. And one by one, each began to cite a heartfelt phrase, gazing upwards in unison as they did so.


    “May we never again shed needless blood.”


    “May his gifts live within us, and ours within all of our brethren.”


    “May our dreams and hearts ever stay true.”


    “May we forge ahead, never to stray from our path.”


    “May we continue to have peace everlasting.”


    Once the others had spoken, Nodhyle once again parted his lips, speaking unto the glowing moon above them.


    “…May our kind be engraved in eternity, never to be forgotten.”


    ? ? ?


    When Raizel had arrived in Partivine, she’d roared into the city to draw Karas towards her. As a result, the youngling had successfully whisked away the professor, as well as Ilias and Light to the northern continent.


    Unfortunately, the same roar threw a handful of individuals into a night of overwork.


    The enforcement sector madly went about the city to find out where the sudden roar had come from. They cross-referenced numerous eyewitness reports of a giant snake-like silhouette within the courtyards of the Magic Institute, which had been all but abandoned by the city for weeks.


    By the time Iris and Patrick had arrived on scene, the metal dragon was gone; in her place was just a huge paved section on the grass that needed fixing, as well as faint signs of mana that had been present before the youngling’s disappearance.


    That also needed a copious amount of investigation, followed by a thorough check of available mana signatures within the sector’s data. Though, quite obviously, no one’s mana seemed to match the signatures that were read within that courtyard.


    After all, the portal that had appeared there was powered by a machine, not a person.


    “…”


    “…”


    After exhausting themselves in a three-day search for the culprit, Patrick finally returned home to immediately collapse on the couch.


    And Iris likewise followed through the door, collapsing beside her coworker as her legs finally gave away.


    “…Hey, Patrick?”


    “…Yeah?”


    “…You think your sibling had something to do with this incident?”


    “…Yeah?”


    “…You ever feel like we try too hard for our own good?”


    “…Yeah?”


    “…If I ask nicely, will you get up and fetch me some water?”


    “…Y…no.”


    Patrick remained glued to the couch beside Iris, his eyes emptily staring into the ceiling. He emptily flicked his hand in the air, making a sphere of water above his coworker’s face.


    “Here you go. Water.”


    “…This is a spell.”


    “So?”


    “What the hell do you mean ‘so’? Even if I did drink this, it’ll disappear inside my mouth.”


    Soon after the enforcer’s comment, the sphere of water dissipated above her eyes, replaced with an exhausted comment from her coworker.


    “Fine. Go get some actual water. There’s some right over there on the kitchen table.”


    “…But I don’t want to get up.”


    “And you think I do?”


    “Oh come on, I’m a guest. A lady at that.”


    “Uh, no, you’re an intruder who followed me into my house without permission. I could arrest you for that.”


    “…Fine, how about this. Your deity is asking for an offering of water.”


    “You pull the deity card to talk your way out of everything. I’m not falling for it.”


    “…Ugh.”


    After groggily getting back up to her feet, Iris dragged herself across the living room to pour two cups of water. As she brought one back to Patrick, she turned towards the window as her ears picked up on a faint explosion noise – though Patrick soon brushed away her worries with his words.


    “Iris, we’re off until Wednesday. Stop looking out the window.”


    “Didn’t you hear that too? Something just exploded outside.”


    “Yeah, I heard it. I also know the explosion’s name, it’s called fireworks.”


    “…Fireworks? What for?”


    “Tonight’s Lunar Celebration, remember?”


    “…Is it already that time of the year? Huh.”


    After passing the cup of water to her coworker, Iris once again sank into the couch beside him. The two enforcers lazily sipped on the cool drink, letting out a sigh of relief afterwards.


    “Hey, Patrick. Wanna know something cool?”


    “Is it gonna be another story about how stupid we were a thousand years ago?”


    “No, this is different. Do you know where Lunar Celebration originated from?”


    “…I don’t know, a couple ancients looked at the sky one day, saw a really big moon and thought ‘oh oh oh, let’s make this day…moon-day.’ Is that it?”


    “Hahahaha, no, not at all. Lunar Celebration isn’t actually a day people came up with.”


    “…? What, so the Twelve came up with it?”


    “Not really. To be honest, we stole it. Lunar Celebration is actually a day demons used to celebrate.”


    “…Wha?”


    “Hard to believe, right? But it’s actually their celebration. They held a yearly celebration on the night with the brightest moon, usually right before winter’s coming.”


    “Huh. Well, they sure don’t teach you that in history class. All we get about demons is ‘they were big and bad and mean and the Twelve killed them all.”


    “…Yeah. None of that’s really true.”


    “What did they even celebrate it though? Same thing as we do? Year’s passing, family time, that stuff?”


    “…I think so? Your sibling would probably know better in that regard. By the time I was around, all their traditions were beginning to fall apart, so I only saw glimpses of it. But it was pretty much just wishing for everyone’s well-being.”


    “Interesting. I’ll have to ask them when they come home.”


    “You could. There were also phrases that they’d recite when the moon was up. Each tribe had a different one. I still remember the one dragons used to say.”


    “It’s not ‘Happy Lunar Celebration,’ is it?”


    “…No. It was...”


    After an amused snort, Iris cleared her throat, staring out the window towards the flying sparks of the fireworks outside – and the moon shining behind all the festivities.


    “…Actually, I forgot. You should just ask her when she’s back.”