Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)

Third Person's POV

A figure emerged from the streak and descended with red-tinted grace, as her small frame landed lightly beside them.

It was a little girl, around ten to eleven years of age, and clad in a deep crimson dress.

Her beautiful, dark hair trailed like threads of shadows in the air, while her feet barely made a sound as they touched the forest floor.

It was none other than Duchess Althera.

Her expression was solemn and very unlike her usual playful self as she looked straight at Nyx, her face set with concern.

But even then, she spared a wink and a half-smile toward Ethan—a quick flicker of familiarity amidst the tension before she turned to face Nyx again with gravity returning to her tone.

"What happened?" she asked plainly, her eyes scanning the scorched air still flickering with dying black embers.

"That attack of yours… it has awakened that wretched spirit from its slumber."

Her voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the weight and the frustration behind her words.

Hearing her mention that spirit, Ethan could tell that something very old and monstrous had just stirred from his Master's sudden attack.

Hearing her words, Nyx didn't spare even a passing glance toward the little duchess, and her unwavering, intense vertical golden slits remained locked on the scorched patch of air where her attack had landed, like a beast hunting prey it had just missed by a hair's breadth.

But the target Nyx was searching for wasn't where she thought, as the real presence she was seeking lingered quietly to the right of the trio in a totally calm and still state, and only a short distance away.

Hidden beneath cascading folds of white, the concealed woman let out a silent breath of relief as her chest rose and fell subtly under her veil.

She had evaded the strike, though just barely, as if she had been a moment late, she might have exposed herself on the forest floor.

Her perfect concealment had faltered for a mere heartbeat as she had been so caught off guard by the closeness between Nyx and Ethan that their energy had entangled, and it seemed so personal that her own tightly coiled aura had slipped and bled out like a thread snapping under pressure.

And that slip of hers had been noticed by Nyx.

Anyone else might have still gone undetected, but Nyx wasn't just anyone.

She was a forbidden being, an existence among the strongest of this world, and one whose senses were honed through centuries of survival and war.

Still, the veiled woman knew the truth of her still being hidden, and it was not only skill but also the timing with which she detected that impending laser attack and dodged it.

The bright daylight, the sun blazing high above the treetops, had left no shadows to betray her as in such an overexposed world, where light reigned absolutely, her magic flourished.

She could scatter and blend her essence through every glint and gleam until she was nothing but an unseen and unfelt shimmer.

But night—night was different, as in its darkness, Nyx ruled.

Her domain was the absence of light, and in it, even the most refined camouflage would be torn apart like mist by a storm.

That's why the woman knew that her stealth ability wouldn't have lasted a second had this confrontation occurred under the stars.

Still, a sly smile curled her luscious red lips.

Despite the narrow escape, she was delighted.

Her presence had ruined whatever quiet plan Nyx had crafted by showing up in such a juvenile form.

The woman had clearly come here to play the part of a sweet young dragonkin, nestle up to her "little boyfriend," and stay close under a false identity.

But now, because of her slip, the disguise was shattered, and the veiled woman had every intention of taking full advantage of that.

Suppressing the laughter bubbling up inside her, she hid her amusement behind her veil and remained perfectly still under the open, sun-drenched canopy, though her lips, however, trembled with mischief.

Back near the center of the clearing, Nyx finally exhaled a long breath edged with cold fury as she addressed the still-hovering Althera.

"Don't worry," she said softly, but there was nothing gentle in her voice.

"I will find out who it was. And when I do…"

A sound followed, it was a soft, low chuckle that didn't match her youthful appearance and sounded creepy and full of malice to the extreme.

"Hehehe…"

Ethan's skin prickled as the sound reached his ears, and goosebumps broke out along his arms, and his grip unconsciously tightened around the hilt of his saber.

That laugh, he had never heard it before. It wasn't playful, nor mocking, but it was thick with something far darker.

It was pure and unadulterated coiled malice and resentment… so sharp that for the first time, he understood what people meant when they described emotions being felt and perceived so clearly from a person.

Even Altheria's usual lightness dimmed, and her tiny mouth drew into a line, while her brows furrowed.

She had known Nyx for years and had rarely seen this expression, let alone seen such anger and frustration in her.

But what alarmed her was that it was due to her plan of staying close to her disciple, failing at the last possible moment.

Seeing this, she realized how much she viewed him as her property.

And seeing her dressed like this… as a young dragon girl, flushed with joy and warmth only moments ago… it didn't take long for Althera to guess what her old friend had been planning.

Now, someone had not only exposed her but robbed her of the illusion she had worked so hard to maintain.

And to Altheria's own surprise, she felt the corner of her mouth twitch as she was truly thankful for what had happened.

As the thought of an overbearing, possessive menace like Nyx parading around her academy and hovering over her beloved disciple like a hawk was a headache she didn't want.