Chapter 38: The Demon Envoy, A Forgotten Founder & An Unforgivable Insult
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Two weeks had passed.
With midterms approaching, so did the demon envoy—the first royal vampires to step foot inside the academy that Lilith founded in over 2,000 years.
Officially, their purpose was to evaluate the solution to one of the greatest tactical victories in history.
Unofficially?
They were here to expose the charlatan who dared to claim they had solved Lilith's greatest battle.
And as the prince and the headmaster had suspected, that was the only reason they had come.
They did not care about the mana surge device.
They did not care about human academy politics.
They did not care about anything except the strategy itself.
Which was precisely why Jessica had not been invited.
Because if she were here, she would have just given them the answer immediately.
Or worse—
She would have kept talking to them.
And Jessica Moran was unpredictable.
Even in the most basic conversations, she was a variable.
There was no telling how she would answer, how she would phrase things, or if she would completely dismantle the academy's careful positioning with a single blunt response.
So, as far as the Academy was concerned—
It was better to stall.
They would let the envoy investigate the mana suppression relic first.
And only after that would they allow them to see Jessica's solution.
If she wasn't here, she couldn't blurt out the answer and let them leave immediately.
Or worse—
She couldn't keep them engaged.
And that was a risk they weren't willing to take.
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The atmosphere at the academy had completely changed with their arrival.
Demon envoys were rare. Royal-class vampires at an academy under human control? Unheard of.
And at the front of it all stood Duke Vaelora.
A tall, commanding figure with a presence that was almost suffocating, his aura like a storm just waiting to break.
Even among vampires, he was considered dangerous.
His piercing gold eyes flickered over the academy grounds, as if examining the place that once belonged to their kind.
Behind him, two smaller figures followed—his children.
Zyrenia Vaelora, his daughter, was eager, eyes practically burning with curiosity.
Sevrin Vaelora, his son, was more composed, watching the academy with silent calculation.
For the first time in two millennia, the descendants of Lilith's bloodline had returned to the academy.
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Waiting to greet them stood Lucien, the royal twins, a selection of high-ranking third-year noble students, and the headmaster.
The demon envoy approached, their presence immediately shifting the air.
Yet, as formal introductions began, one thing stood out.
Jessica Moran wasn't here.
Of course, the reason was simple.
The prince hadn't invited her.
Because why would he?
The demons were not going to dictate the terms of this meeting.
And, more importantly, talking to Jessica was exhausting.
Seraphina and Alistair had learned this the hard way.
Every single time they had a conversation with her, they somehow lost—even when it wasn't a conversation that could be won or lost.
Lucien, standing with perfect posture, noted her absence as well.
His expression didn't change, but in his mind, he understood why.
Jessica wasn't controllable.
And while she was technically the reason the envoy was here, putting her in this reception would have given the demons more control over the situation than he was willing to allow.
So, the solution? They simply didn't invite her.
If the envoy wanted to see her, they could find her themselves.
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The air was heavy with unspoken authority as Duke Vaelora finally spoke.
"Let me see it."
His voice was deep, unwavering, and carried the weight of centuries.
The headmaster kept his composure. "Of course, Duke Vaelora. We understand your interest in—"
"The solution," the Duke interrupted. "Not your understanding. Not your delay. I came here to see the strategy itself."
The prince stepped forward, measured and diplomatic. "We have, of course, prepared the documents for your review. However—"
Vaelora's gold eyes flickered toward him.
"However?"
Seraphina, standing with calculated ease, spoke before Lucien could.
"The relic," she said smoothly. "Before you evaluate the strategy, we would like your expertise on the artifact discovered during the expedition."
There was a pause.
Zyrenia, standing beside her father, narrowed her eyes slightly.
Sevrin said nothing, merely watching.
The Duke let the silence stretch just long enough to make it uncomfortable.
Then—he exhaled sharply. "A relic is of no consequence."
There was an edge to his voice.
"Demons do not hoard failed tools of war. If it is inactive, it is useless."
The headmaster kept his tone polite, but firm. "Even so, it is a significant discovery for the Academy. Before moving forward, we would appreciate your evaluation."
The Duke's golden gaze lingered for a moment, unreadable.
And then he nodded once.
"Very well."
Zyrenia looked mildly annoyed.
Sevrin, as always, remained neutral.
But both of them were thinking the same thing.
This was a waste of time.
Because they hadn't come for relics.
They had come for a solution that should not exist.
And as far as they were concerned, the longer these humans stalled, the more obvious it was that the solution had been falsified.
__________
Jessica sat at a table in the library, arms folded, watching the candle currently sitting in front of her.
It was not a cheap candle.
It was a handcrafted, limited-run, marquis-tier candle.
And beside it was another battle strategy plan.
Jessica exhaled, rubbing her temple. "This is getting ridiculous."
Tobias, lounging across from her, grinned. "What, you didn't think it'd escalate?"
"I didn't think professors would get involved," Jessica muttered. "This is supposed to be an academy."
Tobias snorted. "That's your mistake. Nobles don't know how to stop once something becomes a trend."
Jessica sighed, tapping the battle plan against the table. "It's like they expect some grand strategy lesson."
Tobias shrugged. "I mean, technically, you are teaching them something."
Jessica picked up the candle, turned it over in her hands, and then set it down again.
"...They're being weird about it."
Tobias raised an eyebrow. "Of course they are."
Jessica exhaled again.
After a moment, she picked up the plan and started reading. "I'll grade this one later."
Tobias smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Try not to accidentally start a military reform movement while you're at it."
Jessica rolled her eyes.
Across the academy, the demon envoy had just entered the main study conference hall.
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The study conference hall was one of the largest chambers in the Academy, used primarily for high-ranking discussions and archival access.
The headmaster sat at the center of the room, the prince to his right, Seraphina and Alistair flanking the other side.
The demon envoy entered in composed silence—but their presence changed the air immediately.
Duke Vaelora walked forward first, his gold eyes taking in the chamber with unreadable calculation.
Behind him, Zyrenia and Sevrin followed.
Zyrenia was practically vibrating with curiosity, while Sevrin remained composed, hands folded behind his back.
Scholars and senior academy staff stood along the walls, ready to present their analysis.
In the center of the room, displayed on a reinforced pedestal, sat the relic.
The prince, ever poised, gestured toward it. "This was retrieved during an expedition outside of the academy's protected grounds. We believe it to be a mana suppression device—potentially old, but its exact origin is still unknown."
There was a pause.
And then, Zyrenia tilted her head.
"...That looks like one of Lilith's old campaign relics."
The room went silent.
Several scholars blinked.
Lucien's gaze flickered toward her.
Seraphina's posture straightened slightly.
The prince's expression remained neutral, but Jessica wasn't here—so he already knew this wasn't going to go according to plan.
The headmaster, sitting with his hands folded, did not react outwardly.
But in his mind, he knew exactly what was about to happen.
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A scholar cleared their throat. "You... recognize this artifact?"
Zyrenia gave them an odd look. "Obviously."
She walked forward, looking at it more closely.
Then, with a slight frown, she turned to her father. "Is it one of the prototypes from her early campaign?"
Duke Vaelora did not answer immediately.
His golden gaze settled on the artifact.
Sevrin, after a moment, spoke first. "It resembles one of the failed prototypes from the early war period. If it is the one left behind before her capture, then it would date back to the first major offensive against the hero."
A pause.
A long pause.
None of the scholars reacted.
Because none of them had any idea what he was talking about.
"...Before her capture?" One of the professors echoed. "Are you referring to—"
Zyrenia frowned slightly. "Obviously before her capture. She planted it as part of the battle plan meant to spring a trap on the hero."
Another silence.
Zyrenia's frown deepened.
Something was wrong.
The humans weren't reacting the way they should be.
None of them were responding in recognition.
None of them were acknowledging Lilith's battle tactics.
They were just staring.
She looked between them, then at the headmaster, then back at the prince.
And then she asked, "Wait. How much of Lilith's war strategy do you even know?"
Another silence.
Lucien remained composed.
Seraphina's expression did not change.
The headmaster's gaze remained even.
And then, in a moment that would go down as one of the worst diplomatic mistakes in history, the prince of the empire tilted his head slightly and said—
"Who is Lilith?"
The entire room froze.
The scholars went still.
Lucien's fingers twitched slightly.
Seraphina's posture subtly stiffened.
Sevrin closed his eyes briefly.
Duke Vaelora's jaw tightened.
And then—
Zyrenia bared her fangs.
It happened instantly.
Fury—deep, **genuine, ancestral fury—**rose in her expression.
Her pupils narrowed, her golden irises flickering.
Sevrin, standing beside her, took a slow breath through his nose.
The humans didn't understand.
But Zyrenia?
She understood perfectly.
They had erased her.
They had erased their Messiah.
The academy's founder.
The woman who had given them their kingdom.
The prince of the empire—**standing in the academy that Lilith had built—**had just looked her in the eyes and asked Who is Lilith?
Her hands clenched at her sides.
The humans did not recognize the sharp tension in the air.
But Lucien did.
Seraphina did.
The headmaster definitely did.
And the worst part?
Zyrenia couldn't control the external fury.
She was young. She was not practiced at maintaining a neutral face.
Her fangs were showing.
Her body language had shifted.
She was angry in a way vampires rarely displayed outside of war.
And that?
That was the true problem.
Because now, everyone in the room felt it.
The humans didn't know why she was so enraged.
They didn't know why she was reacting like this.
They only knew one thing—
The youngest member of the demon envoy was furious in a way that was unnatural.
And they had no idea why.
Duke Vaelora, silent, exhaled slowly.
His expression was unreadable.
But inside, he already knew—
This was no longer a diplomatic evaluation.
This was something else.
Something much, much worse.