Hyperion Was Ready to Say Yes

Two hours had passed since daybreak on Naica Island, the royal capital of the Demon Realm, yet the sky remained a deep, eclipse-like purple. Mist and clouds swirled high above the island while twilight clung to the ground. This ancient demon city-state seemed to sleep on the edge of time, perpetually awaiting the arrival of a new day yet trapped forever in night's final second. The royal palace rose majestically in the heart of Naicalis, close to the coast of Naica Island. Serving as a reception and security checkpoint, the base level of the front square connected to the coastal boulevard. Most of the time, it was open to the public, allowing demons to visit and learn about the history of the Demon Realm. Strict order usually prevailed here, but this morning the area bustled with activity. Demon Realm military guards and media reporters crowded the platforms outside the square's passage. Although the Naicalis royal guard had erected protective barriers outside the palace to ensure order and security, it did nothing to dampen the demons' anticipation. Meanwhile, wherever there was a magic screen in Naicalis, demons were beginning to gather. Holding their breath, they waited for the major events unfolding inside the royal palace to be broadcast to them via projections from specially invited demons. Demon nobles and dignitaries ascended the long flight of stairs of the palace front square one after another, entering the Demon King's Palace. Passing through the palace's lengthy corridors, their field of view suddenly opened up. The first floor housed the Regency Hall, offices, and nobility rest lounges, serving as the core area for administrative work and conferences within the palace. As for the second floor and above, which were off-limits to the public: Only royal family members, those specifically summoned, and ministers of the Fall Lord's rank were permitted to enter. At that moment, on the second floor. "Your Highness, take a deep breath. You look far too nervous." "I'm not nervous at all." Princess Hyperion and her court attendant Lysandra walked side by side along the corridor of the second floor, their soft conversation drifting through the air from time to time. No Fall Lord was watching over them at this moment, but both knew that the Fall Lord was currently waiting down in the Regency Hall below. The first floor was packed with demons, making any escape entirely out of the question. The corridor was spacious and bright. Ancient Demon Realm oil paintings hung upon the walls, while sculptures and antiques lined the sides, every single piece a masterpiece of the Demon Realm. Warm light dotted the corridor carpet. Hyperion wore a pale blue gown shimmering like ice crystals, with white silk gloves covering her hands. Her long silver hair was coiled into an elegant bun at the back of her head, every strand meticulously braided to give her a dignified, noble air, while a few loose wisps brushed softly against her cheek. "..." Lysandra knew full well why the princess beside her was so tense. As someone who had seen great storms, the princess possessed a steadier demeanor than the vast majority of demons. Even though today concerned a momentous matter regarding her future, she was not one to lose her composure over that. However, the princess would be seeing McCarthy today. It had been a long time since the two of them last met. Whenever she heard McCarthy's name, she would always reveal a heartfelt smile of joy. She cared about him and was endlessly curious about him; normally serene, she easily experienced waves of emotion on his account, and every day spent apart from him felt exceedingly long. Clearly, McCarthy was the true reason for the princess's nervousness. "Does Your Highness think Mr. McCarthy will win?" Lysandra asked tentatively. Although Lysandra had no idea why the princess was so certain McCarthy had a way to take her away today, even if McCarthy could persuade Fall Lord Caliera, his opponents today were not limited to those great demons—there was also the Blood Clan's Tenth Progenitor, Ulysses. "He will win," Hyperion nodded with certainty. "Could he really be more remarkable than the Tenth Progenitor Ulysses?" Over these past few days, Lysandra had interacted with McCarthy quite a bit. Yet the more she thought she understood him, the more inscrutable she found him. She had even begun to wonder whether McCarthy was secretly a great demon concealing his true strength. After all, when she could clearly sense that his mana was weak and steady, there were only two possibilities: either he truly was very weak, or he was powerful to a degree that ordinary living beings could hardly comprehend. Putting aside such groundless personal fantasies, Lysandra was certain that the Tenth Progenitor Ulysses was an opponent whom few living souls in the world today could defeat in artistry. Even the most ancient grand master craftsman of the Demon Realm could hardly claim superiority over Ulysses of the Blood Clan. Naturally endowed with unique artistic talent, Ulysses possessed endless centuries to hone his craft. He had not picked up a brush for many years—perhaps because he was lost in contemplation, or perhaps because he had long reached the pinnacle and grown tired of painting. No one knew what realm he had attained by now. "I don't know," Hyperion replied honestly. After all, she had never seen Lanqi paint either. "But he is more extraordinary than the greatest painter I have ever seen," she said with absolute certainty. Perhaps Lanqi could not surpass Duke Mikhail, whom people called an all-around genius, in various other skills, but when it came to painting alone, Hyperion believed Lanqi far surpassed her father, Duke Mikhail. She trusted her father, which was precisely why she believed in Lanqi even more. "Then may I take it that your faith in his victory means you are also prepared to marry him today?" Lysandra pressed in a low whisper. "!" Hyperion's footsteps instantly stiffened. Lysandra peered at Hyperion's fair skin, which had flushed pink, and knew for certain it was not makeup. It seemed that leaving the topic alone was fine, but the moment it was mentioned, the princess completely lost her composure. "I-It's just getting married! What's the big deal? If he dares to propose, I dare to say yes!" Hyperion quickened her pace toward the staircase. "Just watch and see who's embarrassed when the time comes." "..." Lysandra smiled helplessly and followed the princess to the stairs, descending with her. Because of today's official duties, Lysandra had left home especially early. Around four or five in the morning, she had already seen the lights on in McCarthy's home. McCarthy had clearly thought things through on his end as well. Descending the long flight of stairs, they arrived at the gallery connecting to the Regency Hall. Every few steps, one could feel an invisible barrier laid down by the Fall Lord, continuing all the way to the doors of the Regency Hall. The several-meter-tall doors to the Regency Hall—the largest hall in the palace—stood wide open. Tier upon tier of fan-shaped seating expanded from low to high, forming a spacious semicircular auditorium. Demon Realm nobles and ministers moved among the rows, and most of the witnesses had already taken their seats, exchanging opinions in hushed voices. Hyperion looked across the room, her gaze falling upon Fall Lord Caliera, who stood beside the throne in the very center of the hall that belonged to her. The Fall Lord glanced at her as well, but quickly turned her attention away from the princess who was meant to be the protagonist of the day. Caliera merely stared in bewilderment at a male figure among the distant seats. There was now a demon named McCarthy, dressed impeccably in formal attire, who enjoyed immense esteem among the Demon Realm's high aristocracy. He was currently chatting and laughing with numerous political heavyweights of the Demon Realm. "That's the second time. Why does that fellow still refuse to look at me?" Caliera grumbled in an imperceptibly low murmur.