"This guy is really decisive; he ran off too quickly," Ulysses remarked with a hint of regret as he looked at the two still-wriggling tentacles in his hands, his face expressing a sense of helplessness.
"Are these from the arms of Dimogaron?" Muria asked in surprise, looking at the thing that the Abyssal Lord had dragged out through hundreds of chains piercing through space.
"Yes." Ulysses sensed the thin origin force contained within them. Though scant, this trip was not entirely fruitless after all; there was some gain.
"I wanted to try and drag this guy's true body into the world of Erathia, but unfortunately, he was too cowardly to come over. He severed his arms midway as a price to free himself from my bind."
"It's not really about being cowardly, right?" Muria silently criticized in her mind. Only those who no longer wish to live would venture into the world of Erathia.
"I need to go find the next demon lord's avatar. Just one Dimogaron isn't enough," the Abyssal Lord Ulysses told the four legendary Titans, "You go help me collect those half-planes that are about to form and have been purified by the world. The more, the better, regardless of the cost or method."
"Lord Ulysses, should we inform the royal family of the Uranos Empire to help collect? They have also sent people over." A Titan stepped forward to report. The Uranos Empire is one of the ten great human empires, deeply connected with the Titans.
"They have sent people as well? Then notify them," the Abyssal Lord Ulysses pondered for a moment before speaking, "Make it clear to them that I need these half-planes, and they should hand over whatever they collect. I won't let them suffer losses."
"Understood." The Titan nodded, tore open space with a gesture, and stepped through, vanishing from sight, evidently to convey the message to the Uranos Empire.
"Go forth with all your might, and capture more half-planes for me. You need not regard any existence," the Abyssal Lord commanded authoritatively, his figure gradually becoming ethereal and fading away.
Hm, hearing the Abyssal Lord's orders, Muria showed a thoughtful expression. Ulysses, emerging from the land of the Titans, was clear in his objective—targeting the origin force on those demon lords and the forming half-planes.
Typically, even at the epic level, one would not casually consume the origin force from others, as the nature of power varies. What is a healing herb to some could be poison to others.
If it were indeed so easy to consume, then the Mech Emperor Osiris would have long devoured the evil deity imprisoned in the eternal skies of his mechanical city, instead of keeping it as a perpetual motion machine.
But the Abyssal Lord was different. Currently integrating with the abyss, his power had already begun to align closely with that of the demon lords, granting him the ability to absorb abyssal origin force. However, this was a risky move, as any mishap could lead to corruption by the abyss, turning him into a being of utter chaos.
Thus, he needed those half-planes transformed by the abyssal layers of the world, containing the chaos-cleansing power he sought. If Ulysses could fully comprehend this power, his strength would ascend to even higher levels.
...
"Ah, everyone's gone! It's a bit boring, huh!" Muria, resting her chin in her hand, gazed around the empty council hall, with only Princess Remilia beside her, reviewing state affairs under his guidance.
The Titans, including her father Ansol, had gone, as had the Golden Dragon Mother, not returning home but following the Abyssal Lord's orders to vie for half-planes elsewhere.
Even the ancient dragons summoned by Muria had mostly departed, energized by Ulysses' promise to trade as many half-planes as collected, disappointing none.
However, three ancient dragons stayed because they had been crippled by an avatar of Dimogaron while responding to the summons of the Wind King Eagle. Their bodies, corrupted by the power of the demon lord, had lost much of their combat strength, leaving them no choice but to stay by Muria's side to heal.
It's worth mentioning that while other regions of the Ocia continent were peaking in magical disasters, the Kingdom of Lockman remained eerily calm.
Only some mid to low-level demon groups appeared, easily suppressed by the kingdom's hunter squads and giants. It seemed as if the abyssal demons had recognized Lockman Kingdom as a forbidden land for demons.
If they wished to indulge in death and slaughter, they had to look elsewhere. This shift gave Muria a subtle sense of disappointment; she had been ready for the climax of the magical disaster, yet
nothing happened.
Now, the intensity of the magical disaster within Lockman Kingdom was just slightly stronger than at its onset, trivial for the now-seasoned hunter squads.
"The magical disaster is over!" Muria remarked softly to the blue-haired, red-eyed loli beside him. Although other countries were bathed in blood, it hardly concerned him; he did not intervene, as that was a matter for the gods.
"You're ready to ascend to the throne and officially become the Queen of Lockman Kingdom, Remilia." Muria gently stroked the loli's smooth hair.
Yes, still a loli. Ten years had passed, and the princess's height, weight, and appearance had scarcely changed—a loli with an indefinitely extended shelf life, who had integrated the incomplete bloodline of a true vampire ancestor, becoming a being above mortal concerns.
"Your appearance is a bit problematic!" Muria said, slightly frustrated as he rubbed his temples. It was foreseeable that for a long time to come, Remilia's appearance would not change much.
How could a loli, outwardly just an ordinary ten-year-old girl, become a majestic queen? This was now Muria's challenge to ponder.
Humans, or most intelligent beings, are visual creatures. Judging by appearances is not exclusive to humans; the world has always been about appearances, where looks sometimes decide much, and at times, bring troubles.
"A majestic Queen Remilia! Ah, what a challenge!"
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