Sixteen hours ago.
The Demon Realm, Naicalis.
Beneath a sky cloaked in thunderclouds, the Demon King's Palace loomed like a phantom, veiled in mist.
A winding path crossed the square before the palace grounds, leading straight to the castle's layered gates.
Inside the Demon King's Palace, within the Throne Room.
"Mm..."
Hyperion slowly stirred from slumber, letting out a weary, soft murmur.
Her long silver hair cascaded like a waterfall, draping smoothly over her black gauze gown, the hem of which fanned lightly at the base of the throne.
At this moment, her amber eyes were no longer disguised in human form, having reverted to their true demonic guise. Her hair was no longer tied simply with a ribbon either; she could feel the icy touch of Demon Realm jewelry adorning her locks.
In a daze, Hyperion lifted her head to find herself seated upon an imposing, majestic throne.
Just this morning, she and the four great demons had arrived in Brierda, the capital of the Creti Empire. Before they even had time to meet Miss Unity—the allied spy from the Kingdom of Canbera tasked with liaising with them—she had rushed Antanas and the others to Brierda's Void Gate, entering the Shadow World right on the dot at nine o'clock.
The flagstones of the castle's courtyard were etched with intricate, mysterious patterns, and the indoor fountains sent up faint sprays of ethereal blue particles. Flanking the way to the deepest reaches of the Throne Room stood rows of armor as black as pitch, and a suffocating, abyssal aura permeated the grand hall.
In the previous Shadow World, she had likewise opened her eyes right here, finding herself in a hellish Pandemonium, standing at the very center of that gathering.
Without a doubt.
She was back in the palace of Naicalis, the Demon King's Castle.
If nothing went awry, this was the final node of the Blood Moon Ruined World series.
At the end of this story, she would witness the conclusion of this era.
Unlike last time, when she had been frightened out of her wits, she was now as familiar with this Throne Room as one could possibly be.
It was practically home to her.
And she had the dependable Mother Caliera by her side.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Hyperion regained her royal composure.
She looked out at the ministers and nobles seated along both sides of the Throne Room.
The demons gathered in the hall varied in appearance, most carrying a commanding, formidable presence.
Some of the demon dignitaries possessed mana so immense that it rivaled—or even surpassed—that of Antanas and Pranay.
Evidently, another major issue faced the demons today, prompting the assembly of great demons here.
Soon enough, Hyperion's gaze swept over several familiar figures among the seats.
Antanas and the other three great demons were all present.
They, too, wore subtle expressions of having just awoken from a dream.
Hyperion could not help but feel a flicker of relief.
This time, she had not been dropped into the Demon Realm completely alone.
Four great demon Challengers were accompanying her.
From the look of things, Antanas and the others had acquired civilian official roles in the Demon Realm of this era, serving as her absolute supporters.
Still, none of that truly mattered. As long as Caliera was around, she would feel neither lonely nor afraid.
By the way, where was Caliera?
Instinctively, Hyperion moved to turn her head and look for Caliera's position.
"Your Highness, who are you looking for?"
A monotone female voice rose from behind her, chilling and bone-deep, making the hairs on the back of Hyperion's neck stand on end.
The cold dread welling up from within sent a shiver through Hyperion's entire frame, making her yearn to activate an invisibility spell and flee the hall on the spot.
This voice... was not Caliera's.
"..."
Hyperion forced herself to remain calm, doing everything in her power to school her expression.
As long as she still sat upon this throne as the demon princess, there should be no immediate danger even if the attendant behind her was no longer Caliera.
Yet the question remained: where had Caliera gone? She was nowhere near the throne, nor among the crowd below.
Hyperion glanced back slightly.
Standing behind her was a female great demon with a sinister visage and a chilling aura. Her eyes resembled pools of stagnant water, sending shivers down Hyperion's spine.
Though she was undeniably a mature beauty, she exuded a sickly morbidity. Behind her swayed a sharply segmented scorpion tail, looking as though it might drip lethal venom from its barb at any second.
The moment she met Hyperion's gaze, she actually smiled.
A smile touched her face, yet none reached her eyes. Or rather, her pitch-black pupils were an expanse of utter chaos, making it impossible to fathom her thoughts.
"Your Highness, staring at me like that... do you have something to say?" the scorpion-tailed great demon asked, gazing down at Hyperion.
"Nothing. I just thought you looked very beautiful," Hyperion replied with a polite nod, quickly turning back around to sit upright on the throne.
"Oh?"
The scorpion-tailed great demon seemed surprised by the response, a rare trace of emotion coloring her voice.
She pressed no further, merely glancing at the clock and awaiting the start of today's assembly.
Unease gnawed at Hyperion.
Not only because of the unfamiliar, perilous great demon behind her, but even more so because she had no idea where Caliera had gone.
This scorpion-tailed great demon might not be as formidable as Caliera, yet her oppressive aura was still beyond anything Hyperion could gauge.
While the other demons at the foot of the dais showed deference toward Hyperion, many exhibited sheer terror toward the great demon behind her.
The presence of the scorpion-tailed demon rendered the atmosphere throughout the Throne Room even heavier and more suffocating. Every demon present weighed their manners with extreme care, terrified of provoking this bringer of calamity.
Hyperion hesitated, uncertain whether she should ask the great demon who had taken Caliera's place.
The woman was powerful, carried an aloof, icy demeanor, and bore the weight of accumulated ages.
Yet Hyperion could not sense even an ounce of normal maternal warmth from her—only a chaotic, abyssal malevolence.
Even speaking to this scorpion-tailed great demon seemed perilous.
Given the choice, Hyperion would have liked nothing more than to dash down the dais and run straight to the Ice Snow Witch.
Yet she was currently a princess. She could neither act bizarrely nor breach etiquette, nor could she draw the scorpion-tailed demon's scrutiny toward her teacher. Hyperion was certain that this scorpion-tailed demon was at least of the general tier Pranay had spoken of, possessing the pressure of a six-seal quasi-king, falling only slightly short of Caliera's seven seals.
Before discerning the situation, she chose to remain silent, quietly waiting for the other party to speak.
Normally, Hyperion was well-accustomed to being around great demons. Surrounded by friendly great demons every day, she had even managed to foster good relationships with the great demons of this era, such as the True Night Lord.
That brought up another question.
Where was the True Night Lord?
Where was the Mist Lord?
Where was the Thunder Lord?
Why were all three of them missing, just like Caliera?
With those two generals and one civil minister around, Hyperion would have felt no fear toward any Blood Clan member, fully capable of trading blows even against a Tier 9 combatant.
This timeline felt unnervingly alien to Hyperion.
The more she thought about it, the less she understood whether this familiar yet bizarre new timeline truly connected to their previous Shadow World and the old Demon King's Castle of Naicalis.
"By the way... how has the Blood Clan been lately?" Hyperion could not resist asking the scorpion-tailed great demon behind her.
Since the Demon King's Palace remained intact and the demons could gather here for an assembly, the external situation likely was not too dire.
If her guess held true, Lanqi had once again spawned in a different location.
He was probably still serving as prime minister of the Polant Empire, leading the allied forces in a desperate struggle against the Blood Clan.
Just thinking about how Lanqi might be all alone, with no one to support or accompany him, made Hyperion's heart ache.
"..."
"Your Highness, are you still dwelling on the Blood Clan?"
The scorpion-tailed great demon let out a derisive chuckle, her voice drifting into Hyperion's ear.
"What do you mean?"
Hyperion did not understand.
The Blood Clan outside was constantly watching their north, locked in a fight to the death with the demons and the Polant Empire. How could she not pay attention to them?
"The Blood Clan surrendered three years ago. Everything is peaceful now. You need no longer worry or live in fear of them," the scorpion-tailed great demon answered curtly.
She cared little for the Blood Clan.
Much like how she never bothered to remember the names of defeated foes.
"Your Highness, you need only keep your eyes upon the Demon Realm. What is in the past has passed; there is no need to linger on the remnants of that old dream."
The mysterious great demon sighed behind Hyperion, seemingly accustomed to the princess's habit of clinging to nostalgia.
"..."
Hyperion fell silent, listening to her words.
The Blood Clan lost?
How many years had passed?
Then what was left to fight in this Shadow World?
She had assumed the final Shadow World of the Blood Moon Ruined World series would feature the decisive campaign of the war. She never expected to arrive in the post-war era, dropped into a state equivalent to having already cleared the objective.
Why had it gone so smoothly...?
Hyperion found such an overwhelming victory almost too good to be true.
"Your Highness, did you dream of unpleasant memories from the past again?" the scorpion-tailed great demon asked, observing Hyperion's expression.
"...Yes."
Hyperion feigned having just awakened, her eyes clouded with faint confusion as she yielded to the great demon.
Since the other party had no intent to harm her, it was best to nod compliantly.
Moreover, for some reason, the woman's soul-stirring voice made her feel an urge not to resist.
Wait, no—that was mind-controlling demonic resonance.
Every cell in Hyperion's body screamed that the great demon behind her was up to no good, yet she had nearly let her guard down because of that voice!
Had she not frequently listened to the Poet of Great Love's demonic singing, and had Lanqi not trained her melody magic resistance in the music classroom of the Purgatory Corridors Academy, Hyperion felt she might have fallen into total obedience to this scorpion-tailed great demon with a single slip of focus.
Even though anything in this world could technically be a Caliera—Talia could be Princess Caliera, Teacher Almis could be Snow Woman Caliera, and Lanqi was Male Caliera—this Scorpion-Tailed Caliera behind her was unmistakably bad news.
Everything was eerie.
The tranquility was thick with foreboding.
The more Hyperion thought, the more anxious she grew. She genuinely could not fathom what was happening.
[Shadow World: Eternal Punishment Undying Endgame]
[Tier: 8]
[Total Challengers: 9]
Just as Hyperion pondered the answer, notifications from the Shadow World surfaced before her eyes:
[Twelve years ago, you followed him back to the Polant Empire.]
[Good times did not last. As soon as war broke out, the Polant Empire became the primary front line, suffering relentless retaliation and an all-out assault from the Horning Empire.]
[Out of concern for your safety, Caliera issued an order recalling you. Under the protection of the Demon King's Army, you returned to the Demon Realm, bringing Xigelei along.]
[Though you did not wish to leave him alone on the front lines, the bigger picture demanded that you protect Xigelei and return to the Demon Realm.]
[Six years ago, the Blood Clan launched pivotal campaigns that would dictate the course of the war: the Battle of Oberon, the Annihilation Battle of the Land of Eternal Night, and the Defense of Naicalis—all erupting within the same year.]
[At tremendous cost, the northern nations led by the Polant Empire successfully weathered the offensive, rendezvoused with the demons, and defended Naicalis, the crucial logistics and arms hub of the Demon Realm.]
Reading up to this point, the stone in Hyperion's heart finally settled.
The prompt she saw seemed to recount the witch's perspective over the past twelve years within this projected timeline.
[Under the desperate protection of Caliera of the Fall, you, who should have perished late that autumn many years ago, survived once more.]
[Yet your survival changed nothing in the grand scheme; defeats occurred where they were destined, and victories were won where they were due. Knowing you must not hold him back, you could only watch as he walked further and further away.]
[You knew his body was like dark iron and his heart like glazed glass; before bringing an end to this chaotic world, he would never waver. Even if destiny stripped away everything he held dear, nothing could halt his ascent to power. You were destined to slowly fall behind him.]
[Ensuring your own survival, awaiting the day he might return, and preserving an eternal haven of tranquility for his heart was the most important thing you could do for him.]
[Three years ago, the northern nations led by the Polant Empire emerged victorious.]
[Yet you waited and waited, and he never returned.]
[You worry deeply, unable to comprehend what has become of him.]
[Yet you can barely fend for yourself now. Turmoil has swept the Demon Realm in recent days, and you likewise need his help. Your only choice is to find a way to reach him.]
[Quest Objective 1: Protect the spark left behind by Caliera.]
[Quest Objective 2: Understand the heart and mind of Lanclos of the Black Sun. (Incomplete)]
[Quest Objective 3: All Challengers must survive until the 21-day time limit expires.]
[...]
"...?"
Hyperion's heart skipped a beat after reading through it.
The spark left behind by Caliera?
What happened to Caliera?
She could not make sense of what the second objective entailed, but the first objective was unquestionably meant for her.
"Excuse me... what about Lord of the Fallen Caliera...?"
The more Hyperion thought, the more panicked she became. Unable to bear it any longer, she inquired of the great demon behind her in a timid, fragile voice.
"Forget Caliera. She is a thing of the past. From this moment on, you need only remember one name: mine, Melogas, the Lord of Blasphemy."
The scorpion-tailed great demon spoke with arrogant haughtiness, her voice ringing with the overbearing dominance of absolute power.
"I am the Demon Realm Regent now. None of them are."
She looked down upon the assembly of ministers, a trace of malicious mockery playing at the corners of her lips.
Hyperion froze.
Caliera... a thing of the past?
Fighting back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she pressed her lips tight, her gaze shimmering with hot moisture. In the end, she failed to stop the droplets from cascading down.
She could not accept this.
Her greatest anticipation upon entering the Shadow World of this era had been to see Caliera.
Yet the moment she arrived twelve years later, Caliera was gone forever.
"I don't want to never see Caliera again..."
She whimpered in aggrieved despair, her tears soaking the fabric of the dress clutched tight in her trembling hands.
"Your Highness, I believe I told you never to mention Caliera in my presence again. Did that just count as a challenge to my authority?"
Melogas gave a sinister laugh, leaning down to stare unblinkingly at Hyperion from the side, her venomous gaze striking dread into the soul.
"..."
Hyperion's weeping came to an abrupt halt, her pupils paralyzed under Melogas's lock.
Her spine stiffened as though she had plunged into an icy abyss. Never before had she encountered such a terrifying female demon, nor such clammy, suffocating mana.
In that single instant, she sensed that if she provoked the Lord of Blasphemy any further, the woman might subject her to an execution far worse than death on the spot.
"Do not be afraid, Your Highness. How could I ever harm you? After all, I am your aunt,"
the Lord of Blasphemy, Melogas, said, her face shifting into a mask-like smile as she spoke to Hyperion.
"As long as you obey my every word, you will be my good, precious girl. And no one will ever take you away from me..."
Chapter 770