As usual, Claude was immersed in his work, studying the history of Elysium along with its economic and political landscape.
Governing a kingdom required more than just brute strength and ambition—he needed knowledge to rule effectively.
However, today was different. Four massive distractions sat to his left and right, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.
Those distractions were none other than the twins, Layla and Lilac, whose ample boobs were practically spilling onto the table as they rested their heads on their hands.
They stared at Claude with the kind of fascination one would reserve for a masterpiece like Michelangelo’s David.
They had promised not to disturb him, but with mountains like those in his peripheral vision, focusing was a challenge.
’Damn it, these twins won’t leave me alone! Do they really want to fuck me that badly?’
He exhaled through his nose, trying to suppress his frustration.
Not that he didn’t want to fuck them too, but duty came first.
Lately, he’d been so preoccupied with revenge, indulging in pleasure, expanding his harem, and attending lavish banquets that he had neglected the actual responsibilities of a king.
Clearing his throat, he finally addressed them. "Don’t you two have something important to do?"
Layla smiled lazily. "Oh, don’t worry, all our work is done. Right, William?"
Across the table, William barely looked up from his own stack of documents, giving a simple nod before returning to his tasks.
"I don’t have much to do," Lilac added, her tone teasing.
Her eyes glimmered with mischief as she suddenly leaned against Claude’s shoulder, pressing against him without a care.
"You don’t need to worry about me. I usually take my naps in the palace library."
"Really? Aren’t you the Head of the Magic Battalion? Shouldn’t they be busy?" He gave her a skeptical glance.
Lilac simply shrugged. "Not really. We’re not at war, and we don’t have any diplomatic ties that require a full battalion of wizards."
She wasn’t wrong.
Elysium had many daemons stationed across the kingdom, acting as lords or key figures in government and commerce.
But most of them were focused on gathering intelligence, collecting taxes, and supplying the crown with valuable resources.
They weren’t prepared for war—yet.
Claude tapped his pen against the table, then abruptly stood up.
"I’m going to the town," he announced.
William immediately looked up, concern flashing in his eyes. "Excuse me?"
Claude arched a brow. "What? Do you think learning about this nonsense from books alone is useful? I need to see my people and understand their real conditions firsthand."
’And if I stay in this room any longer, my dragon won’t be able to hold out! Staring at those tits is a battle on its own.’
William hesitated before stepping forward, trying to reason with him. "Your Majesty, I don’t think that’s a wise idea. You still have work to do—"
Claude narrowed his eyes. Why was William acting like this?
Layla suddenly smirked. "William, are you worried that His Majesty will randomly behead some daemon because they piss him off?"
She slid her hand along Claude’s arm, her fingers lightly tracing his sleeve.
"I can actually see him doing that," Lilac chimed in, pressing herself against his other side.
"And looking hot while doing it. But I think His Majesty has great self-control."
Claude scoffed. "Really? You think I’d do something like that?"
"N-No! Of course not, Your Majesty!" William stammered.
"Good. Then I’m going."
Without another word, Claude strode out of the room, the twins following closely behind.
William let out a defeated sigh before grabbing his coat, realizing he had no choice but to accompany his king.
***
Now, Claude finally understood why William had been acting strange—why he had hesitated, why he had tried to stop him from visiting the town.
As he rode through the streets, his eyes took in the harsh reality before him. The roads were cracked and uneven, riddled with holes that made travel difficult.
Houses stood in a pitiful state, many worn down by time, their roofs barely holding together.
The daemons who walked these streets were draped in tattered, threadbare clothing—wholly unfit for a land where snow never ceased to fall.
Claude’s grip tightened around the reins of his horse, his knuckles turning white. His gaze snapped to William, who refused to meet his eyes.
He thought back to last night’s banquet.
A dream. A fabricated illusion of prosperity. The halls had gleamed with gold and silk, drowning in excess, blinding him from the truth that festered just beyond the palace walls.
"H-How..."
It was the first time in his life that he was truly at a loss for words. He turned, looking at the towering, opulent palace behind him, then back at the suffering town before him.
Rage bubbled in his chest.
And yet, despite their hardships, the daemons’ faces brightened at the sight of him.
They recognized him—the king who had, just yesterday, opened the palace gates for the first time in their lives.
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A crowd gathered around him, voices rising in excitement, chanting his name.
Claude had never felt more ashamed.
Then, suddenly, he laughed. A deep, hearty laugh that startled those around him.
The daemons looked at one another, confused, yet their joy remained unshaken. To them, their king’s laughter was a sign of hope.
With a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Claude spoke.
"My subjects, tell me—are you happy living in Elysium? In these conditions?"
The crowd hesitated, exchanging glances. Then, a single voice rang out.
"We love this land! We’re proud to be born here!"
Claude’s smile remained, but inside, something shifted.
’They still love this land, despite everything…’
"I see," he said, his voice steady.
"Then I swear to you—I will make your lives even better. I will build a kingdom that you can truly be proud of, a land worthy of its name."
His gaze swept over the crowd, his voice ringing with conviction.
"Elysium will become a paradise for all daemons, regardless of status or gender!"
The daemons erupted in cheers, their voices filled with hope.
Nearby, the twins watched him closely, interest gleaming in their eyes. They had never expected Claude to care about such things.
In the Honorable Houses, lineage and pride were the only concerns—never the lives of the common folk.
After that, they continued their inspection of the town, Claude silently piecing together plans to improve the people’s lives.
By the time they returned to the palace, Claude rode up beside William’s horse, his voice low and firm.
"Call the court. We’re holding an emergency meeting."
Then, he glanced at William, his expression cold.
"And one more thing—did you really think I wouldn’t find out sooner or later? Did you expect me to rule as a blind fool?"
His voice dropped, his tone sharp as a blade. "You disappoint me."
William swallowed hard, nodding stiffly, too afraid to offer any defense.
Claude turned his gaze forward, locking onto the palace ahead. For the first time, he realized—his true enemies weren’t just outside these walls.
They were waiting for him inside.