Queen Lareen remained bowed, ignoring Damien’s gesture for her to rise.

She had decided the depth of her gratitude was not something to be dismissed lightly.

Only when she was fully satisfied with her bow did she straighten, her silver eyes calm yet resolute as they met Damien’s gaze.

She clapped her hands once, signaling the guards around her.

“Provide accommodations for my daughter’s companions and ensure they are well taken care of,” she commanded. “They are to be treated as honored guests.”

The guards bowed swiftly and began making arrangements.

Then, she turned back to Damien.

“For you, a separate place of rest has been prepared,” she added. “You are the savior of our princess, and our people will show you the respect you have earned.”

Damien exhaled lightly. ‘Savior of the princess, huh?’

It felt strange being addressed like that, but he let it slide.

A different guard approached, prepared to lead him away—

But before Damien followed, he turned back to Queen Lareen.

“I have a request.”

Her gaze sharpened slightly. “Speak.”

“There are more people,” he said. “Not just these survivors. A lot more.”

He gestured toward the door where the first group had been led away.

“Many of them were in even worse condition than those you’ve just taken in. I ask that they be sheltered here until they recover. Once they are well enough, they can return to their homes.”

Queen Lareen nodded without hesitation.

“Where are they?” she asked.

Damien didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her expression—gauging if her willingness was genuine.

After a moment, he nodded. “Before I tell you, just know the number is double—maybe even triple—this first group.”

There was a brief pause.

A flicker of surprise crossed Queen Lareen’s features before she quickly masked it.

Her lips pressed together, but she didn’t withdraw her offer.

“We can handle that,” she said. “If you make such a request, then it is the least I can do.”

Damien gave a small nod.

“Good,” he said. “Because you’re about to see something strange.”

“Well then, summon Luton, shall we?” Damien stated with the intention to summon his slime.

A small, blue portal swirled open above his head, and the red, gelatinous Stellar Slime plopped down onto his hair, settling there like a soft, sticky hat.

The moment Luton appeared, the atmosphere in the throne room shifted.

The guards stiffened, their hands hovering over their weapons.

Some of the maids gasped softly, their expressions ranging from curiosity to fear.

Even Queen Lareen observed it with an intrigued expression, though she made no move to react negatively.

Damien ignored their discomfort.

“Luton, empty out the survivors.”

The Stellar Slime bounced off Damien’s head, landing on the polished marble floor.

Then—it expanded.

Dozens of times larger than its original size.

The guards tensed immediately, gripping their weapons, prepared to cut the slime down if it tried anything.

Then—

It vomited people.

One after another, bodies tumbled out from Luton’s massive form, landing in small heaps on the throne room floor.

The first few were unconscious, their bodies frail and barely moving.

Then, more began crawling forward, looking disoriented but alive.

The nobles, guards, and attendants watched in stunned silence as the number of people kept increasing.

It wasn’t a few dozen.

It wasn’t even a hundred.

By the time Luton had finished, over two hundred survivors lay before them.

Queen Lareen exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple. ‘That’s a lot!’

She had expected many—but not this many. She felt like Damien might’ve exaggerated but now she knew he hadn’t.

Still, she had already given her word.

Backing out now would be shameful.

She straightened herself, regaining her composure.

Then, with a clap of her hands, she summoned a dozen maids and even more guards.

“Take them to the infirmaries,” she ordered. “They are to be treated, clothed, and fed. Ensure none are neglected.”

Her people immediately moved into action, lifting those who were too weak to stand and supporting the ones that could walk.

Damien watched as Queen Lareen’s people carried out her orders without question.

Efficient. Precise.

It seemed she was a true leader—one who did not hesitate once she made a decision.

Satisfied, he gave her a respectful bow.

“Thank you.”

Queen Lareen’s lips curved slightly, as though amused by the gesture.

Then, she motioned for the guard beside her.

“Take him to his quarters,” she instructed.

As Damien turned to leave, Queen Lareen’s voice stopped him.

“Before you rest,” she said smoothly, “be prepared.”

Damien glanced over his shoulder.

“For what?”

Queen Lareen’s expression was unreadable.

“You may soon be called upon,” she said simply.

Then, her gaze flickered toward Lizella.

“For now, I need to have a private discussion with my daughter.”

Damien raised a brow at Lizella, who looked away awkwardly.

She knew what this was about.

With a final nod, Damien followed the guard out of the throne room, his curiosity growing.

He didn’t know what Queen Lareen meant by ‘called upon’—but he had a feeling it would be interesting.

The guard led Damien through the winding hallways of the palace, past walls adorned with intricate carvings of beasts and warriors, until they reached a private guest chamber.

The moment Damien stepped inside, he could tell this wasn’t an ordinary room.

The space was well-furnished, far beyond the level of hospitality he had expected.

A large, soft bed covered in silk sheets, a mahogany table in the corner, and a set of chairs with velvet cushions—it was clear this was reserved for high-ranking guests.

Across from the bed, a wide window framed the sky, offering a clear view of the Beast Tamer town’s glowing lanterns and watchtowers.

The air was warm, the scent of incense faint in the room as though it had been prepared specifically for him.

The guard, who had remained by the door, motioned toward a side room.

“The bath has been prepared for you,” he said. “The water is warm, and fresh garments have been provided.”

Damien exhaled, rolling his shoulders.

The idea of a warm bath was tempting.

After nearly three weeks of battle, exhaustion, and blood, he welcomed the thought of relaxing for once.

Without another word, he stepped into the bathroom.

The bath chamber was constructed of polished stone and marble, a stark contrast to the rugged conditions he had endured in the Forest of Twin Disasters.

A deep basin filled with steaming water sat in the center, lined with small silver runes that likely kept the temperature stable.

Damien didn’t waste time.

He stripped off his worn clothes and lowered himself into the bath, letting the warmth soothe his aching muscles.

The heat seeped into his skin, loosening tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

For the first time in weeks, his body felt truly at rest.

He tilted his head back, exhaling softly, eyes closing for a brief moment.

Even as he relaxed, though, his mind stayed active. ‘I need to return to Westmont soon.’

Now that the captives were safe, there was no reason for him to remain much longer.

Still—

It wouldn’t hurt to stay for another day, just to see how well they were settling in.

After washing up, Damien stepped out of the bath, his silver hair damp as he dried himself off with the soft linen provided.

Fresh clothes had been left on a nearby bench—simple, yet finely made tunics and pants, perfectly tailored.

Once dressed, he stepped back into the main chamber—and was immediately greeted by the sight of a meal waiting for him.

A large tray sat on the table, carrying a spread of roasted meat, steamed vegetables, fresh bread, and warm broth.

Damien arched a brow.

They were treating him well.

Perhaps a bit too well.

But he wasn’t about to refuse good food.

He sat down and ate slowly, savoring the taste.

The meat was seasoned perfectly, the broth rich and comforting.

By the time he finished, his stomach was full, and his body felt completely at ease.

Without hesitation, he climbed into the soft bed, letting the exhaustion of the past few weeks pull him into sleep.

Hours passed.

The room remained silent, save for the occasional gust of wind through the window.

Then—

A knock at the door.

Damien’s eyes snapped open instantly.

His body had long since trained itself to wake at the slightest disturbance.

Sitting up, he turned toward the door.

Another knock.

Rising from the bed, he strode forward and opened it—revealing the same guard from earlier.

The man stood stiffly, a new tray of food in his hands.

“Your meal,” the guard said simply.

Damien blinked. “Again?”

“You slept for four hours,” the guard replied. “It is standard practice to provide meals at regular intervals for guests of honor.”

Damien stepped aside, allowing the guard to set the tray down on the table.

This time, the meal consisted of roasted meat and thick porridge, still steaming from the heat.

As the guard finished placing the food, he turned back to Damien.

“Additionally, the Queen has requested your presence.”

Damien, who had just taken a bite, paused.

“Now?”

The guard nodded. “She wishes to speak with you immediately.”

Damien sighed.

So much for a full night’s rest.

Finishing the meal quickly, Damien straightened his posture and gestured for the guard to lead the way.

As they moved through the halls, Damien’s mind was already running through possibilities.

What could Queen Lareen want to discuss at this hour?

It was unlikely to be about Lizella, as they had already planned a private discussion earlier. “I can’t stay longer if that’s what she wants to discuss.”

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A/N: My deepest apologies for the lack of chapter(s) yesterday. To make up for it, I shall upload two for the next three days to show my deepest apologies.

Thank you all for reading thus far. You all are my true motivation and inspiration. Thank you guys!!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep