Chapter 91. No Point

Author's Note: I AM ALIVE!!! 😭

Also, Merry Christmas to those that celebrate! 🎄🎂🎉♥️

*****

A stack of stones were built, rooted deeply into the dug up ground. The person who built such a structure—Lucilline—bowed solemnly before the stones. His locks of black hair fell in front of his face, resembling a cloud of shadows hiding away his emotions.

It was unknown what he was thinking of.

Behind him, Farrah Umbra frowned at the newly created grave. The skies were horrendously grey and colourless, as if the gods had sucked all liveliness of the kingdom into the abyss. A droplet of rain skidded down her cheek. The Demon Princess felt an itch scratch repeatedly at her heart. It was annoying. If she could, she would have torn out her heart long ago to relieve the tickle.

"This is so annoying." She sighed. When her beloved kingdom was destroyed by the humans, the only stench she could smell was the rotting scent of maggots wriggling into flesh, and the scent of blood washing away into ashes.

Only she survived of the Royal Clan. The remaining demons have fled cowardly—but no matter how far they run, they could never live fondly under the sun.

It was too quiet. In order to hide from the humans, she buried herself alive. The Demon Princess wasn't worried that she'd die of suffocation. After all, her hatred was rooted so deeply—how could she die so easily?

"I hate the silence." Farrah took a breath of the rain-infested air.

She could only relish in the sounds of the humans' agony. A smile slowly crawled unto her ghastly pale lips. "I hate that others are laughing when we are mourning." The red swirling in her eyes was intoxicating wine, crimson blood like sedation. "I hate that others are warm when we are cold." Her knuckles burned a white flame. "I hate Lydia."

Her words were all cruel and mustering of hate. However, the smile teetering on her lips was uncanny.

*****

"How horrible..."

The blood of mages streaked across the cobblestone—it was a red sea—so horribly crimson that it rivalled against the most vibrant of roses. It was a romantic death; tens of mages hung from the balcony of a building. The sea of red blood has morphed into words: Get out of my kingdom!

Upon seeing this, every single mage in the kingdom grew upset. Their own kind were being murdered... and for what reason? They have lived in peace in Lydia for so long, but they were suddenly being picked on by the humans?

They too wanted revenge.

*****

They were cornered. Blades pointing at them from every direction, arrows cutting the air, and the agonized screams of burning alive in flames had scorched the fields. "You filthy mages!" Ugliness crept in the bitter mixture of ashes and metallic blood. A group of commoners had taken up their pitchforks, surrounding the mages who'd lit their fields on fire.

"How could you do this! How could any of us possibly survive without wheat!?!" The commoner farmers were angered, their faces bulging with red veins.

The mages fought back, biting fiercely. "This is revenge for killing our brethren!"

"You lot of mages deserved it! You don't belong in Lydia! Go back to your own lands with the elves, werewolves, and spirits!" The farmers spat. "How dare you stink up our homeland! We, humans, do not need your freakish magic to survive!"

Upon hearing that, a spark triggered aflame.

The fields of wheat had completely burned to a crisp. None of the farmers cared about saving the wheat—after all, not a single plant remained healthy to the assault. Only rage and hatred crept its way into the depths of their hearts.

The mages summoned their magic. "If it weren't for our healing magic, thousands of humans in Lydia would have died in the war centuries ago!!!"

The humans readied their pitchforks. "That was a century ago! We don't owe any debt to you!"

As the relationship between humans and mages had snapped apart, a civil war broke out in Lydia Kingdom. Due to the killings of the mages and the wildfire set on the crops, a shortage of food caught the citizens off-guard. The prices of surviving crops were risen to the maximum. Only nobles could afford such expensive prices, and the commoners were left to starve.

Mages demanded for an apology due to the massacre of their brethren. However, none of the humans wanted to apologize for a crime they didn't do.

Thus, mages from the kingdom had quit their jobs, refusing to work or heal any wounds. Instead, they took up arms and attacked every inch of the lands. "It is our magic that helped sustain these lands for so long. If you refuse to apologize, then we refuse to share these lands with you!"

"These lands never belonged to you! It was us humans who cultivated them with our own effort! You bunch of mages then came along and took ownership over things you've never done!" The humans were alarmed at the audacity of the mages.

Lydia Kingdom was built up from the ground by humans. They only welcomed mages after the race helped in the war from centuries ago.

"To think that they would dare claim that the lands were theirs," the humans were only more enraged. Fire leaked from the gnashes of their teeth. In order to 'prevent the destruction of their lands', the humans picked up whatever weapon they could find to greet with the mages.

Bloodshed spilled unto the land.

A high-pitched laughter billowed across the mountain plains. "HAHAHAHA!!!" Streaks of brilliant white hair had relished in the stormy winds. Farrah could not control her tremendous heaves, a vividly burning smile stretched across her ghastly cheeks. A look of madness flared in her crimson red eyes. "Look at these stupid ants below my feet."

She stood at the top of a mountain peak, while gazing down at the tiny villages of scrambling humans. Farrah took a deep breath. "I love this feeling." She wouldn't allow anyone to celebrate if she was mourning.

An explosion burst below in the villages. It was like fireworks had set off for the Demon Princess. Farrah allowed her limbs to unfurl, her arms relishing in the winds brushing her cheeks. "When you have power, you must use it to its full limitations. This is what only the strong can achieve, Lucilline—" the Demon Princess suddenly froze.

She noticed that the black-haired nobleman was nowhere to be found. "Of course." She muttered under her breath. "Your human side is awfully persistent."

Farrah swiftly jumped off the mountain peak, her figure disappearing into the shadows.

*****

Amidst the crumbling villages, a young girl stumbled over the hem of her shabby dress. She tripped and collapsed to the ground. "Mama!" She called out. There was no response. "Mama!" The little girl called out again, this time with tears spilling down her cheeks.

She was unaware of the house next to her, its last supporting pillar caught on fire.

The house then crumbled down—its rooftop about to collapse onto her—!

"Oof!" The little girl was whisked away by the shadows.

A face sculpted by the Goddess herself peered down from above, those golden and beautifully distinctive eyes holding the little girl in a warm embrace. She could feel herself hugged by lapping currents from an ocean of honey. Strands of black hair outlined the face of the little girl's saviour, while a sharp jaw—chiselled by the world's most renowned sculptor—drew back as a soft gasp blew in the wind.

"...thank you." The little girl shyly spoke.

Lucilline did not speak a word.

He was a lone man that lost his speech, his words dying in a bated breath. It wasn't until a white figure dropped from the skies, plummeting into the fire-driven ground, did everything die down.

Farrah and her crimson red eyes strangled all the witnesses.

She breathed anger. Smoke seemed to billow out from her nostrils—she was a demonic dragon. Merely looking down at the human ants at her feet seemed to burn something ablaze in her heart. She wanted more. She desired for a tasteful revenge.

She was a demoness—a true villain. Then, a crazed smile frolicked upon her lips, "It was I who killed the mages." All the villagers stared at her with their wide and open mouths. Then, the demoness continued on. "It was also I who began this civil war."

A flick of her blinding white hair breezed in the winds. "From now on, I—the Fourth Princess of Umbra, the Last Royal of Demons—declare war on Lydia Kingdom!" Her crazed laughter rang across the mountain ranges, bellowing aloud to all ears. "Come find me and kill me! I will be waiting!"

It was after this day did news spread of the truth.

Lucilline Rubius and Farrah Umbra were the true causes of the war between mages and humans. Then, Lydia Kingdom had rounded up all their troops to the cause of killing Lucilline and Farrah. It was for the greater good. At that moment, even Lucilline agreed. It was about time he died.

*****

Farrah sipped tea, her legs swung over one another, seated elegantly upon her chair. She appeared like a luscious princess beloved by her servants and people. However, her surroundings was an abandoned wooden shack—stranded in the middle of a dilapidated forest. She hummed, as if delightful that the people of Lydia had declared war upon her, and were preparing troops in order to deliver her head back to the King.

Lucilline watched her, not a sliver of emotion escaping his eyes.

"They never expected that their ancestors have failed to kill me, did they?" Farrah giggled to herself, "This is karma, pfft."

While kicking her feet under the table, the Demon Princess fixated her ruby gaze upon the nobleman.

"What do you say, Lucilline? Will you join me in killing those humans... for the sake of justice?"

Something flickered in the black-haired young man's eyes. Despite having three different voices living in his head, Lucilline could hear his own thoughts quite clearly. There was a persistent hammer pounding at his veins, forcing a gush of blood to break out, almost like a broken dam spilling out.

He knew that something was wrong.

"How is any of this considered justice?" His words were sharp, instantly cutting off the demoness.

Then, the pair of red eyes thinned in coolness.

Farrah snapped, "I thought that you would be the one to understand." She stood up from her chair, instantly knocking the table and her cup of tea over. The wooden table collapsed, shattering into a million pieces as if imitating glass. Her aura was incredibly sharp—comparable to a shark's teeth.

"Those damned humans took everything away from me!" A piece in the wall collapsed. "THEY TOOK AWAY MY FAMILY!" Then, the ceiling fell down.

Farrah merely raised a single eye, and the ceiling was blasted a hole. In an instant, the wooden ceiling was blown into smithereens—only ashes rained down their heads softly.

"And they took away yours." The demoness tried to restrain her voice, as if soothing a pot of boiling water. "So why are you trying to fight your own feelings? You know the urge to kill. You know you want to kill. It is the right thing to do after all. If they take away your stuff, you take theirs away too." She raised a pale hand, revealing the thin blue veins bulging out from her flesh. That small hand weaved willowy narrow fingers, almost as if branches threaded out from a thick bark tree. Then, those fingers clenched into a solid fist.

Farrah vented aloud. "There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing—!"

A slap rang sharply across her face.

It was then the world died down.

The Demon Princess feared by the entire Lydia Kingdom was slapped across the face. A burning red hand marked deeply upon her pale cheek, almost as if hot iron scorched unto her flesh, corroding her muscles until they screeched out frolicking smoke.

"Stop making excuses for yourself." That low voice handled barely any volume, but it rang loudly amongst the quiet surroundings.

Lucilline's pair of golden eyes flickered, flashing to examine his open palm. It burned, but that pain warmed his cold flesh, allowing his skin to spark into a flaming rose colour. He dropped that hand, not daring to look any closer at what he used to shut the Demon Princess into submission. Oh, hearing how that white-haired demoness wail about her rights to kill—it frustrated him. Nobody had the right to take another's life. It frustrated him—to think that he thought the same way at some point too. To think that he thought... that those children and priests in the Holy Church deserved to die. That he deserved to kill them.

To think that he thought the same way as a demoness... it sent a wave of nausea in his abdomen.

A sad look clouded over his face. "I hated this world too. Why did they take away my mother? Why does society point their fingers at me? Why do they demand me to act the way they desire? Why doesn't father visit me anymore? Why is it that I am a villain?" His fingers dug into his eye sockets, his nails burrowing into his empty flesh. His voice broke as he continued to cry, "Why do the Gods hate me? Why did they take away my brother and sister?"

"Why did I become so angry? Why did I kill those priests, why did I push away my beloved servant—driving her to her death?" Upon dropping his hands, only a few red marks remained upon his cheekbones.

Lucilline then laughed, "You are not so dissimilar to humans, Farrah. We love, we care, we cry, we hate, and then we despair." Not even the winds interrupted his words. "I hated this world—but I also used to love it." He reached out his two hands, grasping the demoness' cold pair. He suffused his warmth into that chilling pair of dried flesh, not caring if it sucked the life out of his own. "I hope that you will one day remember that feeling. I want you to remember that love you once held for this world."

"Because there is no point in hating."

Farrah blinked at the unfamiliar sentence. There is no point in hating? I have been hating for over centuries. So everything I've done in those centuries had no point? She gnashed her teeth hatefully, wanting to refute—

But found her energy dying at the hands of those delicate golden eyes.

Gold is the colour of the rich—of those who can afford luxuries—of those who are grand and successful. This young man was destined for love, for riches, for beauty. But gold is desired by the masses, it is fought after, and bloodshed often arises—staining this beauty into a muddy mess.

Right now, Farrah is the one shedding blood—spilling filthy muck over the gold. She entangled the golden jewelry, staining it in her evil and impure thoughts.

"Even if you hate, the world would not care for it." Lucilline squeezed her hands, "They do not care if your family has been burnt alive—they do not care if your friend is hung dead before your very eyes." His sad expression was melancholy at its finest. "So why even care to hate? Why should you waste your time hating, when the world doesn't care about it?"

Farrah was speechless. But... she could not so easily let go of her hate. She had been brewing that emotion for centuries, ever since she had been buried alive underground.

While lying awake in her coffin (six feet under), the demoness could only quench her jaw until her cheekbone burned aflame from soreness. She desired revenge more than anything. She desired for the blood of Lydia to swim in her mouth, to have her tongue drown the kingdom, then chew them nonstop into mangled flesh between her ghastly teeth.

How could she possibly throw all of that away?

"I am willing to hear you out." Lucilline softly spoke—it was the gentle flapping of a dove's wings, spreading open to jump into flight. His warm hands had gone cold, while the demoness' went warm.

Farrah's story was nothing special.

The Umbel Kingdom had conquered several small kingdoms, defeating up to hundreds of small civilizations. They took control of territory, while allowing the inhabitants to flee. The demons had no use for other species.

However, they ran into Lydia. The humans requested an alliance with the demons—it was the first time the demons met such foolish prey. But the humans were compelling. Why should any of their sides shed blood for the sake of war? Why not live together peacefully, ending all the bloodshed instantly?

Despite the fact that demons lived off of battles, Umbel Kingdom agreed to not attack Lydia. After all, it was a kingdom of multiple species—ranging from fairies, humans, to mages. Perhaps the demons also yearned for some peace.

In order to honour their alliance, Lydia sent three noble Princesses to Umbel. Those three Princesses married into the Three Royal Prince Demons. Farrah had witnessed her three older brothers go smitten over their new wives, love entangling their own bloodied eyes... until they became something new.

Children were birthed from them. Those half-demon half-human children brought hope to the alliance. Farrah gained nephews and nieces, great nephews and nieces, and so forth. Her long lifespan allowed her to witness everything, to record events that allowed humans to gratefully remember.

However, demons naturally held different beliefs from humans. As demons, they controlled their subordinates under the Sequence Contract. To the humans, it may seem like a forbidden contract binding the poor demon slaves to the Royal ones. However, to the warrior demons, that contract was merely proof of their undying loyalty. Perhaps this difference in belief was what sparked the first fire in their alliance.

"The King of Lydia at that time was a foolish man." King Von Arthur brandished his sword, preparing over a thousand troops, then stormed in the Umbel Kingdom's Royal Palace.

Farrah squeezed Lucilline's hands back. "With his power borrowed from the Gods—his Sword of Gravity sliced down Our Father's neck. His blood was a delightful red, more beautiful than Adam and Eve's apple. Upon seeing that sight, the human soldiers cheered. King Von Arthur must have thought that he freed the poor 'demon slaves' from their corrupt tyrant."

"But Our Father was no tyrant. The Sequence Contract activated, and that night, over a hundred thousand of our soldiers died."

"It was war."

She smiled, "Do you understand now, Lucilline Rubius? That foolish Von Arthur man took down half of our population in one night." Her blood red eyes seemed to shed bloody droplets of tears, "My comrades... they all died in an instant. We all used to dine together, drink beer to satisfy our emotional sides, and even danced to mimic the foolish but creative humans."

"But those humans took half of my Kingdom away."

Under the lead of Farrah Umbra, the Fourth Princess of Umbel Kingdom, the remaining demons declared war on Lydia and fought a bloody battle.

"Those stupid Princesses... they seduced my brothers... THERE IS NO OTHER EXPLANATION!" The white-haired demoness screamed, rage smothering her once pale face into a charcoal black. "THEY REFUSED TO PARTICIPATE! My dear brothers..." her chest heaved, "we feasted together, we trained together, we brandished our swords in the heat of battle..." Shadow distorted her bones, until her cheeks had been crushed in—forming the core of an eaten apple. "SO WHY DID THEY CHOOSE TO FIGHT ON THE SIDE OF HUMANS!?!"

Her screams toppled a few trees in the mountain range.

"Love has blinded them, truly." Farrah allowed her body to be caressed by the chilly winds. "They died in battle. Only their children has survived, but they do not have pure demon blood. They do not have long lifespans like us demons... they are halves."

"You know the rest of the story."

Those surviving children of the Three Princesses and Princes were awarded for their bravery. They were branded with new titles, thus successfully integrating in Lydia Kingdom.

"Delta. Rubius. Leinhart."

"Those were the three House names given to them."