The heavy velvet curtains of the Imperial bedchamber were drawn tight, but a single, stubborn sliver of violet dawn light managed to pierce through the gap. It landed directly across Riha's face, dancing on her eyelids until they finally fluttered open. For a long, silent minute, she simply stared at the ornate obsidian carvings on the ceiling. Her mind was a fog, a distant echo of damp cellars and the smell of spicy noodles.
Then, the reality of her position crashed back into her. She wasn't just Riha; she was the Sovereign.
She tried to sit up, but a sharp, rhythmic throbbing spiked through her temples, making her hiss in pain. "Ugh..." she groaned, clutching her head with both hands. "It feels like a legion of Bermuda Puppets is practicing a war-march inside my skull."
[The Waking World]
"Your Majesty! You're finally awake!"
The cry came from the corner of the room. Mina, her loyal maid, rushed to the bedside so fast she nearly tripped over the train of her own dress. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her face pale from seventy-two hours of constant vigil. Without waiting for a command, Mina poured a shimmering blue tonic from a crystal decanter into a chalice. This was an elixir brewed from the Ancient Scrolls she had brought from Earth, specifically designed to mend shattered nerves and neutralize the most potent toxins of the Shadow Realm.
Riha took the chalice, her fingers trembling slightly. She drained the liquid in one go. As the cool, minty essence slid down her throat, she felt the fog lift. But beneath the headache, she felt something else—a terrifying, pulsing heat in her chest. Her Black Hole Core hadn't just recovered; it had feasted on the Spirit-Dampening Herb and the kinetic energy of the battle. It was spinning with a violent velocity, sending waves of raw power through her veins. She felt like she was made of liquid lightning.
"Mina," Riha rasped, her voice regaining its sharp, regal edge. "Report. How long have I been in this bed?"
Mina bit her lip, looking at her feet. "It... it has been three full days, Your Highness. The palace was in a state of silent panic. Lord Kaelen had to threaten the Council members just to keep them from storming the Royal Wing."
"Three days?!" Riha's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She flopped back onto the silk pillows, throwing her arm over her face in an uncharacteristic display of frustration. "I'm a total sleepy-head. I survive the Three Gates, I fight a mercenary army, and then I get defeated by a bowl of drugged noodles and a long nap? Pathetic, Riha. Absolutely pathetic."
[The Empress's Resolve]
Mina gasped, dropping to her knees by the bed, her hands clasped in prayer. "Please, Your Highness, do not scold yourself! You saved those girls! You fought while poisoned by a substance that would have killed a Beast General! There is so much work to be done, so many people who have been praying for your health—"
Mina began to cry, the sheer relief of seeing Riha alive finally breaking her composure. Riha watched her maid and felt a pang of genuine, human guilt. She was the Empress, yes, but to Mina, she was a friend who had nearly disappeared into the dark. Riha reached out, patting Mina's head. Her hand, which could shatter stone with its 50-ton power, was now as light and gentle as a falling leaf.
"Alright, alright, stop the waterworks," Riha sighed, her expression shifting in a heartbeat. The "sleepy-head" girl vanished, and in her place sat the Crimson Sovereign. Her violet eyes glowed with a cold, predatory light. "The time for rest is over. We have garbage to take out, and I've wasted enough time sleeping."
[The Interrogation in the Deep]
An hour later, the atmosphere in the palace had shifted from mourning to terror. Riha marched through the corridors, her Black and Red robes billowing like wings of smoke. Her hair was swept back into an intricate crown of braids, and her Sovereign Staff clicked against the obsidian floors with a rhythmic, deadly precision.
She descended into the Subterranean Dungeons, where the air was cold enough to turn breath into mist. In the deepest, most secure cell, Minister Harkan was chained to a wall of anti-magic stone. He looked like a corpse that had forgotten to die. The terror of knowing who he had kidnapped had melted his fat away, leaving his skin hanging loosely over his frame.
"Minister," Riha said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of her Level 1 Peak Mental Power, vibrating in Harkan's very marrow.
Harkan looked up, his eyes bloodshot. "E-Empress... please... I didn't know... the disguise..."
"Save your breath," Riha interrupted, leaning into the light. Her eyes were swirling abysses. "I have no interest in your excuses. You sold my subjects like cattle. You fed me poison in my own city. You have ten seconds to tell me who was buying those girls before I let my Black Hole Core eat your soul piece by piece. I won't just kill you, Harkan; I will erase the memory of you from the universe."
Harkan began to convulse. His teeth chattered so loudly it filled the room. "I... I can't... the shadow-binding contract... He'll kill my entire lineage..."
"I am the Shadow!" Riha roared, slamming her staff into the floor. A shockwave of violet energy cracked the stone walls, and the chains holding Harkan glowed red-hot.
Harkan's eyes bulged. A black, jagged seal began to glow on his forehead—the mark of a suicide curse. He knew his life was forfeit the moment Riha walked into the room. With a final, desperate lunging motion, his voice became a distorted, guttural scream that echoed off the damp walls:
"PRINCE HELIOS! THE RADIANCE CONSUMES ALL! HE IS THE ONE WHO COLLECTS THE TITHES OF FLESH!"
As the name left his lips, Harkan's body stiffened into a grotesque arch. His internal core turned pitch black and imploded with a muffled pop, his life force snuffed out instantly by the curse. He fell forward, a lifeless husk hitting the cold floor.
[The Diplomatic Decree]
Riha stood in the heavy silence, her eyes narrowing until they were mere slits. "Prince Helios. The Solari Dominion. So, the 'Golden Prince' of the Sun-Bleached Wastes likes to play in the mud after all."
She turned to the guards standing at the door, her expression one of utter disgust. "Take this garbage out," she said, gesturing to the body. "Dump him in the waste pits outside the city. He doesn't deserve a grave, let alone a funeral, in the Shadow Realm."
"And the girls?" she asked as she walked back toward the lift.
"They have been cared for, Majesty," the Captain of the Eclipse Guard replied, bowing low. "They have been clothed, fed, and returned to their families with a royal pension and a decree of protection. The commoners are calling you the 'Sovereign of the Stolen' now."
Riha smirked—a dark, sharp thing. "Let them call me whatever they want, as long as they know that under my reign, the price of a Shadow Realm life is more than any Prince can afford."
She reached the Grand Hall, where Kaelen Vane and her top officials were already waiting. The air in the room was electric; they could feel the "beaming" energy coming from her, her chakras vibrating at a frequency that demanded action.
"Kaelen," Riha commanded, her voice ringing with the authority of a goddess. "The period of silence is over. Prince Helios thinks he can treat my Empire like a farm and my people like livestock. He wants a marriage alliance? Fine. We will give him a response."
She walked toward her throne, her robes rustling like a gathering storm. "Prepare the royal messengers. We aren't declaring war yet—we're starting a Diplomatic Discussion. Send an invitation to the Solari border. Tell Prince Helios I thank him for the 'hospitality' of his ministers, and I wish to discuss the... trade imbalance... in person. It's time I looked my 'suitor' in the eye."
As she sat on the throne, the Blood Bead on her staff pulsed a violent, hungry red. "You want the Empress of Shadows, Helios?" she whispered to the empty air. "I hope you're ready to burn."