The sun burned bright over Asmaphaeri, pouring gold onto pearl-bricked domes and glistening spires.
The sea to the east glittered under the heat, filled with merchant sails and cargo vessels crisscrossing between floating market docks and ports. Shimmering ripples danced at the heart of a wide junction near the main plaza. A swirl of pitch-black smoke spun into a vertical cyclone.
The ground cracked in a perfect ring.
A portal erupted. A towering obsidian portal inscribed with infernal runes tore itself into the city. Out of that gaping void stepped a beast no one expected to see.
An armored horse emerged, its hooves scorching the cobbled street as it walked, leaving behind faint trails of embered red. It wasn't alone. Another horse followed, then another, fourteen in total, two of them each pulling a carriage from the depths of hell.
The first six were plated in elegant obsidian shellwork etched with glowing runes. They were surrounded by mounted Demon Knights. They were towering warriors in horned helms and war-forged armor.
It was the seventh carriage that pulled breath from lungs.
It was crowned in a skeletal arch of black diamonds. Its doors alone were three meters high and carved with the emblem of Dynasty Ceres, which was a curling serpent devouring a ring of stars. That symbol had not graced a mortal city in centuries.
Hell had opened but not in war.
No fire rained from the sky. No curses were cast. Asmaphaeri, the most liberal and business based city in the world, tried to process what the presence of Hell's Royalty actually meant.
The first of the six carriages opened. With a smooth mechanical hiss and a gust of sulphuric wind, the doors parted and out stepped the first demon.
She was tall, draped in flowing garnet silks tethered with thorns, her horns polished and crowned with gold tips. Her skin was obsidian-glossed, and her eyes glowed softly as she looked around. She smiled, stretching.
"Mmh. The sun in Anqerise… still hits different."
Another demon emerged beside her with silver hair and eyes. His tail flicked lazily and he ran a hand over his exposed fangs.
"I'll say. Not as comforting as the blue sun back home, but this heat? This is sensual and not oppressive. Good for the bones."
Carriage after carriage opened and more demons filed out, some in regal garments, others in combat robes, even a few in stylish casualwear like they were tourists here for street food. But what united them all, from noble to commoner, was the Divinity etched into their forms. They weren't simple demons.
They were Divine-ranked. Every one of them.
Vendors ducked behind stalls. Enforcers locked into defensive stances until they realized what they were facing. Children stared wide-eyed while tourists fumbled with cameras and scribed tablets. A group of scholars from Minafallen dropped their tablets on the ground. However, none fled because there was no war.
The people of Spheraphase had long accepted the truths that children were now taught in schoolbooks:
Heaven was not righteous. Hell was not evil. Both were power.
Thanks to the Divines of the Third Generation, those monstrous, godlike prodigies born from the world's most volatile era, both realms had been brought into neutral accord. There were no more battles of fire and light. Still, no one expected to see carriages from Wisterix to just show up like it was scheduled.
A woman whispered, clutching her prayer charm.
"I thought demons didn't leave hell anymore."
A man beside her corrected in awe, "Not these kinds of demons."
High above, in the security towers, guards relayed information. The whole city entered a quiet emergency protocol. One of the Demon Knights removed their helmet and looked around, their eyes glowing with relaxed amusement.
"Mortals still bow when they see us," he said, cracking his neck. "Nice."
Another demon leaned forward, watching the people.
"They look at us like we're either a nightmare or a miracle."
"Aren't we both?" Said the horned woman from before with a smirk.
The seventh carriage remained shut and everyone was waiting for whoever sat inside.
Because when a Royal Carriage of Ceres rides through the mortal realm, the one inside is either a monarch, a demon Royal, or worse, something in between. The latches on the seventh carriage were finally released and the doors opened. Black mist drifted from the cracks as the interior was unveiled. A wave of shadowed stillness poured onto the street. She stepped out.
Her very first step stopped everything.
People froze completely. Some gasped audibly. Others forgot how to blink.
She was 190 centimeters of pure overwhelming elegance, towering with the ease of a being who had never once needed to raise her voice. Her figure was sculpted in divine proportions.
Her long, snow-pale legs were adorned in a crimson-on-black demonic armor that clung to her thighs that would shame every sculptor's dream. However, it was her hair that first captured the soul.
It was made of void itself, flowing like liquid darkness all the way down to her ankles yet never once touching the ground, as if gravity simply refused to do it.
Then came the wings.
Two massive black wings unfurled from her back. They were not batlike or grotesque but angelic in design. The feathers shimmered with an abyssal gloss that pulsed faintly with every breath she took. Her eyes were radiant blue.
The demons around her, every single one, from commoner to noble, bowed their heads and knelt. Not one dared stand straight in her presence. The horned demoness from earlier stepped forward and knelt on one knee.
"Your Grace, your orders?"
The Duchess turned her gaze to her, smiling faintly. Her voice was smooth and seductive.
"Move freely. The city is not under our shadow. We are not here to claim dominion. Let yourselves enjoy it."
She stepped out onto the cobbled street, her armored heels clicking softly as the shadow beneath her twisted like it was alive.
"And besides, the Guardian of Asmaphaeri knows better than to lay a hand on the Duchess of Wisterix and her envoy."
The words weren't threatening. They were simply true but when she said it, the entire city gasped.
"The Grand Duchess...?"
"From Dynasty Ceres?!"
"She came here?!"
"What's she doing in the city?!"
Traders stared. Tourists froze mid-sentence. Scholars dropped tablets. The very mention of her title warped the space.
The Fuchess of Hell, Royal Succubus of the High Infernal Court. Ceres' Jewel. She was Wisterix's most beautiful nightmare and now… she was walking among them.
She stretched slowly, raising her arms to the side, her joints releasing subtle clicks as her armor shifted and with a soft sigh, she unfurled her wings just once.
A gust burst through the streets, knocking down banners, fluttering dresses and nearly knocking over the other demons. Loose parchment flew like frightened birds. The crowd stumbled back from the sheer force of a single flap. The Duchess looked at her entourage. Her radiant eyes widened slightly in realization.
"Oh. Forgive me," she said, bowing her head slightly. "I didn't mean to startle any of you."
The demons and people she addressed paused mid-scatter. They looked at each other in disbelief. One even stammered.
"Y-Your Grace… there's no need to—"
But she had already apologized and that broke people's minds more than her arrival. A Royal Succubus, Duchess of Hell, had apologized. She had noticed and apologized for merely flapping her wings.
"She apologized?" a merchant muttered from behind a pillar. "Why?"
"She's royalty! She doesn't have to!"
"But… but she did."
The people were too stunned to move. The Divines watching from surveillance towers were already scrambling to figure out what kind of political shift this arrival might signal.
The Grand Duchess was here. This was not good.