When Lily walked out of her suite, she asked herself how she should handle things now. The truth was, it would be complete batshit madness if she really went through a Conquest Event like in the game. Even if this was her reality now, she wasn’t completely unhinged; she didn’t want to start treating people like NPCs.
After all, she had learned her lesson when she snapped earlier and killed the guards. They hadn’t vanished after a short time. They hadn’t left behind loot or experience points. They had been people—real ones.
And even though Lily felt like she was standing on the edge of losing herself between reality and fiction for a moment, she wasn’t cosmic-level insane. She wasn’t about to mindlessly massacre townsfolk just to make them submit. Just thinking that way unsettled her. But on the other hand, she couldn’t just be Lily Carter here either. She wasn’t that human girl from Earth anymore, who could ignore problems and escape into a game to feel like herself. And maybe that was where the circle finally closed. Back then, she had escaped from reality into a game to be an absolute menace without consequences, to vent her stress and kill a few NPCs or other players during raid events, just to cope with her exhausting everyday life.
Yeah, this really is madness. Lily sneered to herself. Madness? No. This is Lily.
“Jesus,” she muttered. “Second day in my wettest isekai dream, and I’m already losing it, trying to conquer the first city I visit in this world.”
And since Lily had no intention of taking the simple I kill everything until it submits, then kill anyone who tries to take it back approach, she needed a proper plan. But before she could form one, she needed more information. So, she hoped that the girl was still in the lobby.
As she reached the stairs and went down, she half expected Tessa to have fled. Honestly, that would have been the smarter thing to do. So, she was more than a little surprised when she reached the bottom and saw the girl still there.
Tessa stood in the middle of the lobby, a mop in her hand and a bucket beside her. The water inside was dark red. She was pale, her movements stiff and mechanical, but she was still there, washing away the blood just like Lily had told her—to help her clean the lobby.
Uh, yes… I didn’t mean it like this, Lily thought, feeling a little bad as she watched the girl working with a pale face, mopping around the corpses. But again, I really underestimated how much I influence people in this world, even with words. Granted, a blood-soaked elf standing in a red puddle is probably someone you should take seriously. But still—why? Is it just her sense of obligation toward her job at the inn?
The girl was so focused on her work that she didn’t notice Lily coming down the stairs. Lily cleared her throat softly to make her presence known.
“I’m glad you’re doing your part of our deal,” she said.
Tessa turned around, and when she saw Lily, her eyes widened at first in surprise. Her expression shifted from shock back to uncertainty, then settled into something that looked a lot like resignation.
“L-Lady Greenwood?” she asked hesitantly.
Lily, who had just undone her [Transform] and was now wearing her plate armor, [Nocturne’s Requiem], realized her mistake a moment too late. It had felt so natural to finally be in her peak avatar form again, ready for a high-end raid, that she had forgotten for a moment she was no longer the trustworthy elf from before.
No, to normal people who believed demons were naturally evil beings, she now looked like something that had stepped straight out of a nightmare.
Since lying wouldn’t help now, Lily decided to go with it, slipping into her full Demon Princess roleplay mode. If nothing else, she could at least be a bit honest, and of course overly dramatic, with the girl, and use her to stage her first act.
???
When Lady Greenwood went upstairs, Tessa thought for a moment about running through the back door and alerting someone to what had happened. But something inside her stopped her from moving.
Could she even escape?
The elf had killed two town guards and an Inquisitor by herself. She had also somehow locked the front door when Tessa tried to flee earlier. Even if she reached the back alley, would she really get far? And why had this even happened?
Tessa clasped her trembling left hand with her right and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The sight of the bloody lobby alone made her nauseous. But there was another small thought blooming inside her: Lady Greenwood had said she wasn’t in the wrong, and she hadn’t killed Tessa, had she? That thought helped her calm down a little.
She had seen her fair share of violence in her life. Everyone in this world had. It wasn’t unusual to see blood, to hear about people dying to monsters, bandits, or just some high-level lunatic on a power trip. Maybe that was why she could still stand here. Maybe it was because, deep down, she understood that this world was ruled by the strong.
And maybe that was why it felt almost unnatural that she was still alive. A real criminal or a high-level adventurer would have just killed her on the spot for being an inconvenience.
Tessa managed to move again. Her legs were shaky as she walked behind the counter where she had worked for the last few months. She steadied herself against the wood and looked around until her eyes found the mop and bucket kept there for spilled drinks. Her mind was still foggy, acting more on habit than thought.
She picked up the bucket and carried it toward the guest toilets at the end of the lobby. There, she filled it with water from the [Water Stone] and came back.
As she stood in the lobby again, staring at the mess, she tried to make sense of everything. Lady Greenwood had promised her a favor if she stayed and helped. That wasn’t something a murderer would say, right?
But still… she had killed a Church agent. There was no real excuse for that.
Tessa swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away from the dark stains on the floor. Then she picked up the mop and began to clean. The rhythmic motion gave her something to focus on. She tried to ignore the smell of blood, tried to think of it as just another mess left behind by careless guests.
Up and down. Again, and again...
The bucket slowly turned red. The water shimmered darkly, and the color reminded her of Lady Greenwood’s eyes, those deep, unnatural crimson eyes.
Tessa paused for a moment, gripping the mop tightly. Thousands of thoughts swirled in her head, none of them making sense. The Church had always preached about demons and sub-humans, about the danger of dealing with them, about how they were born corrupted.
Was that what she had just seen? A demon wearing the skin of an elf?
Had she made a mistake by staying?
Her hands trembled again, but she forced herself to keep moving. The floor had to be clean. It was something she could still do, something normal, in a situation that wasn’t normal at all. So, she mopped, and she tried not to think. While she was mopping, a voice called out behind her. Tessa hadn’t heard anyone coming down the stairs, so she flinched at the sudden sound.
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“I’m glad you’re doing your part of our deal,” the voice said.
Tessa turned slowly, and the mop almost slipped from her hands. A figure stood in the middle of the lobby, clad in black spiked armor. Faint, ominous lines glowed across the metal like veins pulsing with dark red light. The figure was taller than Lady Greenwood had been, broader too, and the armor gave her a presence that filled the room.
The helmet was shaped like a skull, and from within the visor, two dim red points glowed. They watched her with a stillness that felt endless, patient in a way that was almost unsettling, and impossible to mistake for anything human.
For a heartbeat, Tessa couldn’t breathe. But then she remembered the words. Our deal.
She had made a deal with this person, or whatever it was standing there. A deal. Just like in the stories, where foolish mortals bargained with demons.
Her mouth went dry. “L-Lady Greenwood?” she asked hesitantly, half hoping it was only some kind of enchanted armor that changed appearance. She wanted to believe it was still the same elf, the beautiful, mysterious woman who had rented the suite yesterday. She had been fascinated the moment she first saw her. She had never met an elf before, only heard tales that other species even existed beyond the borders of the human kingdoms. Curiosity had drawn her in, even admiration.
The figure paused. For a moment, nothing stirred. Then a steady voice answered.
“I am Princess Lilithia Nocturne. Princess of the Abyss, Ruler of the Damned, Blood of the High Demons. And I am here to make injustice just, little mortal.”
Tessa’s jaw dropped.
It was the most outlandish, outrageous, and surreal thing she had ever heard in her life. For a second, she forgot where she was.
“P-Princess?” she stammered. “Injustice?” Her voice cracked, and she immediately bowed her head. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be bold, I just—”
She stopped, unable to finish, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared at the armored figure before her.
“That’s right,” the supposed Princess said. “I was gone for a long time, only to return and find that the homes of my friends were burned, their lands seized, and everything they built plundered in my absence. In those years, a great calamity befell the proud lands of the Empire. And as the last living being of this once-flourishing realm, it is my duty to help it rise again from the ruins.”
She stepped a step closer, the faint glow of her armor pulsing with every word. “And you, little mortal, as part of our deal, will now tell me everything you know about this city of Tiara.”
Tessa stared up at her, wide-eyed. Her mind spun in confusion. An empire? Calamity? A princess who returned after ages?
Her head hurt trying to make sense of it all. Was she dreaming? Or had she finally gone insane after cleaning too much blood from the floor?
Why is this happening here, in my inn of all places? she thought, her gaze flicking between the glowing armor and the red points behind the visor. What kind of divine joke is this?
But what else could she do? Could she just deny the woman standing in front of her? Something in those crimson eyes made her think it wouldn’t be wise.
She swallowed, her thoughts racing. At least demons kept their word, she reminded herself. Everyone knew that much. It was the only good thing ever said about them; that a demon’s promise was sacred. And if this really was a Princess, maybe having her favor wasn’t the worst thing that could happen.
So, still half convinced she was dreaming, Tessa decided to go along with it.
She told the Princess about Tiara: the names of those in charge she knew, the guilds, the Baron, the Church’s influence, and how the city was run. She spoke of the people, the rumors, and the daily life within the walls. She even mentioned how she herself had been raised by poor parents, and how she had been blessed by the gods when her class awakened at the age of ten, giving her the chance to work here at the inn.
The Princess listened quietly, never interrupting, only asking a question now and then.
The more Tessa talked, the lighter her voice became, as if words were the only thing keeping her grounded. She didn’t even know why she was saying so much, or why it felt easier to speak the longer those glowing eyes rested on her. Still, the skull-shaped helmet creeped her out.
When she finally stopped, silence filled the lobby again.
The Princess gave a single slow nod. “Good. You have done well, mortal. And as promised, you will have my favor.”
Tessa swallowed hard, unsure if that was a blessing or a curse.
She looked down at the floor again, gripping the mop as if it could anchor her to reality. The water in the bucket was almost black now, and the faint red reflection of the armor’s veins still shimmered across its surface.
Then the Princess snapped her fingers.
The sound echoed through the lobby like a spark, and the corpses that still lay on the ground began to move. The two guards and the Inquisitor, even his severed head, slowly lifted from the floor and drifted toward the Demon Princess, who stood still at the base of the stairs.
“It would be a shame to waste this,” she murmured.
Tessa’s eyes widened, and she took a step back without thinking. Then the Princess whispered something soft, almost too quiet to hear.
“[Blight of the Demon Moon].”
In an instant, the world around them lost all color. The warm light of the inn vanished. The blood, the walls, the furniture, everything turned into shades of black and white.
Tessa gasped as a deep, sickening feeling crawled through her stomach. Her hands shook as the air thickened, heavy and wrong.
She looked up and saw that the ceiling was gone. Above them stretched a black sky, wide and endless, dotted with white stars. And in its center hung a massive red moon, bleeding mist down into the room like a slow, steady rain.
The crimson fog drifted toward the corpses. It touched their skin, and they began to change. The colorless flesh grayed and tightened, bones snapped and twisted with wet, cracking sounds. Flesh pulled itself together, sinew stretching too far, joints bending the wrong way. Even the Inquisitor’s head slid back onto his neck and turned with an unnatural creak.
Tessa wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. The sound of it all—the cracking, the stretching, the quiet dripping of blood—held her frozen in place.
It felt like minutes before the mist began to fade. The red light dimmed, and the three bodies now stood upright before the Princess. They moved slowly, their motions jerky and wrong. Faint red light glowed from their eye sockets.
Tessa’s knees gave out. She fell backwards with a splash into the half-dried blood, her legs refusing to hold her any longer.
The corpses made sounds now, low and guttural, something between breathing and whispering. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the world snapped back into color. The moon vanished. The ceiling returned. The inn was silent again.
Nothing had changed, except that three twisted, demon-like figures now stood in front of the Princess, bowing deeply.
And in voices that blended into one another, rough and broken but perfectly synchronized, they said,
“Lady Nocturne, you have called. What is your desire?”
???
Skill: [Blight of the Demon Moon]
Mythic Necromancy | Hellweaver School
Cast Time: 1 minute under a red or eclipsed moon (or while invoking the Realm of the Demon Moon)
Cost: 50% of maximum mana (the sacrificed mana is transmuted into raw infernal power, empowering the Demonbound Undead)
Effect:
- Raises every corpse within a 100-foot radius as Demonbound Undead.
- Each Demonbound retains fragments of memory and skill from its mortal life, though twisted by infernal logic.
- Their forms are reshaped through demonic corruption, granting immense physical resilience, lunar regeneration, and resistance to holy and elemental damage.
- The caster may command, dismiss, or reshape the undead at will.
- The undead are permanent until destroyed or released by the caster.
- When destroyed, they disintegrate into black ash that feeds the corruption of the land, marking it as claimed by the Demon Moon.
Special – Realm of the Demon Moon
This skill is directly linked to the Realm of the Demon Moon. While active—or when invoked through other Hellweaver abilities connected to the Realm—the caster temporarily superimposes the Realm of the Demon Moon onto reality.
When the realm is opened through a linked skill, it drains 3% of the caster’s maximum mana per minute for as long as the Realm of the Demon Moon remains active. The caster can prolong the connection to the realm beyond the duration of the initial skill, provided they are willing to continue paying the mana cost.
In this realm:
- The world turns monochrome, and all natural light is replaced by the bleeding radiance of the crimson moon.
- When the Realm is invoked, all beings within a 25-foot radius are automatically drawn into it.
- The caster can freely traverse between the material realm and the lunar reflection, pulling enemies or allies along.
- Time flows slower within the Realm of the Demon Moon. The caster can determine the degree of distortion, ranging from 2:1 (two minutes inside for every one minute in the real world) up to 10:1.
- All Hellweaver spells are empowered; mana costs are halved, and effects extend to all Demonbound within the realm.
- Mortals suffer a progressive corruption effect, causing nausea, disorientation, and the gradual draining of vitality the longer they remain exposed.
Warning: Mortal races lacking natural resistance to corruption will not leave the realm unchanged. When the veil lifts and the world returns to normal, the corruption endures—burned into the souls of all who gazed upon the Demon Moon. If noticed by the Demon Moon, the mortal’s soul will be judged and subsequently recalibrated.
“When the Demon Moon rises, color dies and the world holds its breath. Shadows walk where men once stood, and even light forgets its name.”