Chapter 261: Nyxariel Noctyra

After reporting to Vaelrix and Renard, Zerath left the tent, leaving the two commanders alone.

The tent flap fell back into place, cutting off the outside noise. For a moment, only silence remained inside.

Renard leaned back slightly in his chair and began tapping his fingers against the wooden table.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The sound echoed softly in the dim tent.

Vaelrix watched him for a few seconds before finally breaking the silence.

“Should we talk about the important topic now?” he asked.

Renard stopped tapping. He let out a slow breath and rubbed his face with one hand.

“Hah… I really don’t want to,” he said honestly. “It feels like we’re jumping straight toward death.”

Vaelrix gave a dry smile. “Yeah. I understand that feeling.” His expression turned serious. “Still, I can’t understand why His Majesty is asking us to do this.”

Renard nodded. “Same. This task…” He paused. “It’s something demons have failed at countless times in the past.”

They had been given a mission no one wanted.

One surrounded by rumors, deaths, and forbidden history.

“Anyway,” Vaelrix continued, folding his arms, “we can’t back out now.” He looked directly at Renard. “Are you sure about the direction you gave?”

There was a hint of doubt in his voice.

Renard didn’t hesitate. He reached forward and pulled the map closer.

It was the same hand-drawn map Amon had seen before in the temple. Old paper. Faded ink. Lines drawn carefully by hand.

Renard pointed at a spot marked with a circle.

“We are here,” he said calmly. “After checking the terrain and comparing old records, I’m certain.”

Then he pointed toward the edge of the map.

“If we move straight in that direction,” he continued, “we’ll reach the center of the island. The place where the Celestial Tree is located.”

“Haha.” Vaelrix suddenly laughed.

Renard looked at him.

“Why are you calling it the Celestial Tree?” Vaelrix said with a crooked grin. “It’s dead anyway. Don’t forget why it’s called the grave of that tree.”

He shook his head. “And we’re literally walking there like idiots.”

Hearing that, even Renard let out a small chuckle.

“You’re not wrong,” Renard admitted. “According to the information we have, the surrounding area isn’t especially dangerous. Just like here. Filled with stronger monsters.”

His expression darkened.

“What’s dangerous is inside the tree,” he continued. “That’s where we need to go.”

Vaelrix sighed. “Got it.” He leaned back. “I think it’s better if only the two of us go.”

Renard listened quietly.

“More people will just slow us down,” Vaelrix said. “You already know, no expedition that entered that place has ever survived.”

He looked at Renard seriously.

“If we’re going, it should be just us. If we die, we die.”

Renard remained silent for a few seconds, then nodded slowly.

Both of them were Mystic Rank. Compared to ordinary soldiers, they could move faster, react better, and escape if things went wrong.

“Then it’s decided,” Renard said. “Only the two of us will go.” He paused. “When should we leave?”

“I’d say the day after tomorrow,” Vaelrix replied. “We should also instruct our soldiers. Once we leave, they should move out of this area the next day.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Humans might attack. Better to be safe.”

“You’re right,” Renard agreed. “We’ll brief them properly.”

Vaelrix shook his head and let out another sigh.

“Still… I can’t believe we’re actually going there,” he muttered. “Damn His Majesty. Why is he so obsessed with it?”

Renard folded his arms across his chest.

“Well, you know,” he said quietly. “That vile thing could help us in many ways.” His voice dropped lower. “Or help the Emperor grow even stronger.”

He looked away slightly.

“And that’s the last thing I want.”

Vaelrix nodded slowly. “True.” His tone turned bitter. “Honestly, I’m tired of this Emperor.”

He clenched his fist lightly.

“Why does someone like him have to rule us?” Vaelrix continued. “And don’t forget his hatred for humans and other races.”

“I can’t deny it,” Renard replied. “To be honest, I don’t hate humans or other races.”

Vaelrix glanced at him.

“It’s not like I like them either,” Renard added calmly. “But things would be much better if we didn’t have to keep fighting endlessly.”

Vaelrix gave a hollow laugh. “We can only dream about that.” His voice hardened. “Because of his obsessions, we’re the ones who suffer.”

He scoffed. “And his twisted teachings… some of the high commanders are starting to think like him.”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Renard hummed softly. “…By the way,” he said, changing the topic slightly, “do you know about Grand Duchess Nyxariel Noctyra?”

Vaelrix raised an eyebrow. “What about her? Did she do something?”

“Oh, so you don’t know,” Renard said. “There are rumors among the higher-ups.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“They say she’s planning to take over the throne.”

Vaelrix’s eyes widened.

“What?” he said sharply. “Are you sure that’s true?”

Renard raised both hands slightly. “Hey, I don’t know if it’s true or might be just rumors spread by her enemies or her haters.”

He paused, then added thoughtfully, “But still… she’s the only known Mythborn demon currently alive besides the Emperor.”

Vaelrix leaned back, staring at the tent ceiling.

“…Honestly,” he said after a moment, “I wouldn’t mind if she became Empress.”

Renard looked at him.

“She’s far more rational,” Vaelrix continued. “And unlike His Majesty, she doesn’t see every other race as vermin. She also treat her subordinates better not like some pawns or slaves.”

Renard nodded slowly. “She focuses on stability. Expansion through control, and tries to avoid slaughter.”

“And that might scares the Emperor,” Vaelrix said with a smirk. “Because she doesn’t need blind fanaticism to command loyalty.”

Renard sighed. “Politics in the Demon Empire are rotting from the inside.”

Vaelrix clenched his jaw. “If a power struggle breaks out…” He shook his head. “This entire mission could become meaningless.”

Renard folded his arms tighter. “Still it will be an amazing outcome if she becomes Empress.”

The silence lingered again, heavier this time.

Vaelrix finally spoke, his voice lower. “You know what bothers me the most?”

Renard looked at him, waiting.

“It’s not just the Emperor,” Vaelrix continued. “It’s the system he built around himself. Absolute loyalty, absolute fear. Demons aren’t ruling anymore, we’re just obeying.”

Renard nodded slowly. “The High Council used to balance the throne. Now it’s nothing more than an echo chamber.”

“Exactly,” Vaelrix said. “Any lord who disagrees is branded a traitor. Any general who questions an order mysteriously dies on some dangerous mission.”

Renard’s eyes narrowed. “Or gets reassigned to border wars that never end.”

Vaelrix gave a humorless smile. “Border wars that only exist to bleed dissenters dry.”

Renard leaned forward. “You’ve noticed it too, then. The recent deployments, entire legions sent against vampires with no strategic value.”

“They’re not meant to win,” Vaelrix replied. “They’re meant to die.”

Renard clenched his jaw. “And while those legions perish, the Emperor strengthens his personal forces. The Obsidian Guard. The Void Inquisitors.”

“Fanatics,” Vaelrix spat. “They don’t serve the Demon Empire. They serve him. Mindless slaves.”

Renard tapped the table once, thoughtfully. “That’s why Nyxariel scares him.”

Vaelrix nodded. “She has legitimacy. Bloodline. Power. And more importantly support.”

“Really. Those other kingdom on our continents. The vampire Kingdom and Warewolf kingdom are actually better than us. When it comes to system and management. There kings are also much better than us. Ours don’t even deserve to call Emperor”

Renard raised an eyebrow. “You think she already has backing?”

“I’m sure of it,” Vaelrix said. “Several grand houses are quietly aligning with her. The Nothar, the Veyl, even some from the old Abyssal Clans. I never gave much attention to this. But you told me about this rumors. It beckmes more clear.”

Renard exhaled. “That’s dangerous knowledge to have.”

Vaelrix chuckled darkly. “We’re already walking toward the grave of a god-tree. I think we passed safe a long time ago.”

Renard allowed himself a faint smile before turning serious again. “If a civil war breaks out inside our nation. Then it would give vampires and warewolves a chance to attack us. To supress us.”

Renard nodded. “The Emperor will turn the war outward to suppress rebellion inward.”

“Classic tactic,” Vaelrix said. “Create an external enemy so no one looks at the throne.”

Vaelrix laughed quietly. “Funny, isn’t it? The Emperor calls humans inferior, yet fears their unity. They are more powerful than us. Not forgetting the valmoria Kingdom. Its strongest in the world. No matter how much we denied it.”

Renard folded his arms. “If Nyxariel moves, the Empire will split.”

“If Nyxariel truly intends to claim the throne,” Renard said, “she’ll need something decisive.”

Vaelrix smirked slightly. “Like proof of the Emperor’s corruption.”

“Or a power that rivals his,” Renard added quietly.

Their eyes drifted back to the map.

To the marked location.

The grave of the Celestial Tree.

Then he shook his head. “But right now we need to focus on survival. I wish we could survive this.”

“Yeah for now,” Vaelrix said quietly, “we just survive. Complete our mission. And watch carefully.”

Renard nodded. “In times like this,” he said, “choosing the wrong side means death.”

The two commanders fell silent again, the weight of politics, war, and fate pressing down on them just as heavily as the darkness outside the tent.

–

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