Ceres stirred awake at the gentle brush of fingers across her cheek. She blinked slowly, still tangled in the warm haze of sleep, her breath soft against the pillow.
"Legion?" she whispered groggily, still caught between the fading dream and waking world.
Legion smiled softly beside her, seated at the edge of her bed, the pale silver of his hair glowing faintly beneath the low light of the chamber.
"Your Highness," he said, voice low and warm as he cupped her cheek with practiced care, "I didn't want to disturb you, but Delphine told me you haven't had dinner yet. It's well past nightfall."
Ceres sat up abruptly, her gaze darting to the window, night had fully blanketed the sky.
"That stupid Duke," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "I told him I was just taking a nap."
Legion helped adjust the pillows behind her and gently pulled the tray of food he brought closer.
"Eat first," he said, placing the tray over her lap. "I already cut the steak for you. I figured you'd be too tired to fight with a knife tonight."
She didn't protest.
Silence fell between them as she began eating, and he, as usual, watched her like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. He always did. She'd gotten used to it. It used to unsettle her. Now… it just felt oddly comforting.
After a while, Legion's voice broke through the quiet.
"What did you dream about, Your Highness?"
Ceres glanced at him. Her brows furrowed slightly as she tried to recall.
"I don't remember," she admitted. "It's been happening lately… I know I dream, but when I wake up, I can't remember anything about them. Just the feeling. Like… it was something soft. Something good."
Legion's gaze narrowed slightly with concern. "Could it be a dream spell? Someone trying to reach you through dreams?"
"I'm not sure," she said as she handed him her empty plate. "It doesn't feel malicious. But it doesn't feel normal either… There's one thing though. One thing I always seem to remember."
Legion leaned forward slightly. "What is it?"
He wondered, worried, that it might be about him. That man. Zeus. The one Ceres never mentioned openly, but whose name stirred a storm behind her eyes. He'd seen that smile earlier as she slept, gentle and almost too intimate for someone alone.
"I keep seeing black cats," Ceres said.
Legion blinked, surprised. That wasn't what he expected.
"Sometimes there's two of them. Sometimes just one. The details fade when I wake, but the cats… they always stay with me."
Legion's expression grew more serious. "Black cats are a dark omen, Your Highness. A symbol of misfortune. They bring bad luck."
Ceres stared at him, incredulous.
"Seriously? You believe that superstitious bullshit too?"
Legion's lips twitched into a smile at the Empress's unfiltered tone. "It's not just superstition," he said. "It's history. Across the kingdoms, black cats are killed on sight. Burned, hunted. People fear them."
Ceres's eyes widened in disbelief. "What the fuck? What the hell did cats ever do to deserve that?"
"There's a story," Legion explained, leaning slightly closer, his tone lowering like he was about to tell her a ghost tale. "Long before the Great War, a woman rode into Aquilonis one stormy night… on the back of a giant black cat. By sunrise, the First Prince of the kingdom was dead. They said the beast tore off his head and devoured it in the dark."
Ceres blinked.
Legion continued, his voice calm but firm. "After that, the whole of Aquilonis began to crumble, famine, sickness, bloodshed. People believed the black cat was a harbinger of ruin. Since then, no kingdom tolerates them. It became tradition: burn the black cats before they curse your land."
Ceres scoffed, fire returning to her eyes. "So instead of blaming their own greed or failures, they killed helpless animals and called it justice. Gods. People are so fucking stupid."
Legion couldn't respond. There was nothing to say. He simply looked at her, silently agreeing.
Ceres shook her head, frustration simmering beneath her skin.
At first, she'd thought the reason there were no cats in Aquilonis was because of the climate. After all, if people were struggling to survive, how much more the weaker animals like cats and dogs?
Maybe they were eaten out of desperation.
She cringed at the thought. Gross.
But the more she tried to make sense of it, the less it felt like coincidence. Especially now, especially with the dreams. Always the same. Two black cats. Always watching. Always waiting.
She didn't believe they were bad omens. She never had, even on Earth.
It wasn't about curses or fur color. It never was.
If someone attracted misfortune, it was because they were lazy. Greedy. Selfish. That energy brought consequences. Not cats.
"Huh?" she blinked. "What were their names again?"
"Whose names, Your Highness?" Legion asked, brows drawing together in confusion.
"I think… I used to have two black cats," Ceres said slowly.
"In your home kingdom?" Legion asked carefully, watching her face.
She nodded.
She wasn't lying. Earth was her home. Her first kingdom. The one she had left behind.
"But I can't remember their names," she muttered to herself, frowning.
It unsettled her. She remembered sponsoring an animal shelter. She remembered rescuing several animals, some of which had grown close to her heart. She could recall their eyes, their soft purrs, the feel of them curled in her lap.
But not their names.
It was like something, or someone, had taken that piece of memory and buried it.
Ceres glanced around the room suddenly.
"Where's the Duke?" she asked, turning to Legion. "He's the one who forced me to sleep."
"He's in the planning room, Your Highness," Legion replied. "With Seiryu, the mages, the knights, and Captain Hugo."
"At this hour?" Her brows lifted. "What are they discussing?"
"There was another message," Legion said grimly. "Same language as before."
Ceres exhaled sharply.
Another message from the Demon Lord's son.
"Let's join them," she said firmly.
Legion nodded at once and moved beside her, gently offering his arm as she stepped down from the bed. He guided her out of her chamber, their footsteps echoing softly along the quiet marble halls of the Empress's Palace. The deeper they went, the cooler the air became, a heavy quiet settling in their bones.
The planning room was located on the ground floor, a temporary war chamber fashioned for the specific purpose of preparing for the Third Son's arrival. It was where all strategies were laid bare, where nerves frayed, and decisions were made.
Just before they reached the double doors, Legion turned to her.
"Do you want me to serve you tonight, Your Highness?" he asked quietly.
Though Ceres hadn't said it aloud, Legion could feel it. Her HP was low. Dangerously low. She was pushing herself again. And if he was being honest, a selfish part of him asked not just because she needed it, but because he didn't want Aurelian to beat him to it this time.
Ceres smiled faintly, reading between the lines.
"I still have a few points left before I absolutely need to replenish," she replied with a teasing edge. "Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after."
She paused.
"But I will need it before the Third Son arrives. I won't be using my magic before then, not unless absolutely necessary. We'll need every weapon we have, especially if his visit isn't a friendly one."
Legion nodded, his expression softening. "I'll be ready. Just say the word."
Ceres offered him a faint, graceful smile before returning the gesture with a nod.
They arrived at the planning room to find Aurelian, Seiryu, Delphine, Celion, the six Noble and Holy Knight Commanders, a number of High-Rank Mages, and Captain Hugo in intense discussion around the long table. They were reviewing defense layouts, debating the positioning of their forces on the day the Demon Lord's son would arrive.
"Empress," Aurelian quickly approached, his brows knitting with concern as he looked at her face. "You should've stayed in bed."
Ceres simply rolled her eyes at him.
In the past few weeks, she noticed the tension between Aurelian and Legion had significantly lessened. It seemed they'd reached some form of silent ceasefire, at least until their mysterious 'guest' arrived. And no one knew yet whether he'd bring diplomacy or destruction.
"There was another message?" she asked Celion as she sank into the velvet-lined sofa, while the others continued their tactical debates around the long, polished table.
"Yes, Your Highness," Celion replied, stepping forward to hand her a neatly folded piece of parchment.
Delphine leaned in slightly, concern clear on her delicate features. "What does it say, Your Highness?"
Ceres sighed, her fingers tightening slightly around the note.
"It says, 'It's a date.'" Her voice was flat, unimpressed. Her brow twitched when her eyes landed on the small winking face drawn at the end.
"A 'date'?" Seiryu echoed, frowning.
"It means something like, 'I'll see you then.' A promise of meeting."
Her gaze flicked to Seiryu, searching his face for insight. "Do you think this is a friendly visit?"
Seiryu gave her a tight, sorrowful smile.
"I don't want to alarm you, Your Highness… but as far as I know, a child of the Demon Lord visiting a kingdom is never a friendly thing. At least, not in the way you're hoping," he said. "Then again, I've only met two of the Demon Lord's children. If you want another opinion, perhaps from someone who might've met them a thousand years ago, there's only one race I can think of."
"Who?" Aurelian asked, leaning forward.
"The Narfs," Seiryu replied without hesitation.
Of course.
In the chaos and urgency of the past weeks, they'd completely overlooked the Narfs who likely encountered the Demon Lord and his offspring in the previous age.
"I can go to their kingdom right now and ask for assistance," Seiryu offered. "They're our allies now, aren't they?"
Ceres turned to him, eyes sharp. "Can you do that? And is it okay to do it now?"
Seiryu nodded. "I will return shortly, Your Highness."
And with that, he vanished.
Silence fell over the room like a heavy blanket as they waited, each second stretched by the weight of uncertainty.
Moments later, Seiryu reappeared.
"Empress," greeted the Narf Prince, Azul.
Ceres immediately rose from her seat to greet him properly before motioning for him to sit.
"My apologies for summoning you so abruptly, Prince Azul," she said graciously.
"No trouble at all, Empress," Azul responded with a respectful incline of his head. "My mother would've come in my place, but as you know, after spending a thousand years frozen in time, we've been… catching up. Reacquainting ourselves with our people, stabilizing our kingdom."
He offered a faint smile before his gaze sharpened.
"Seiryu mentioned you received a message from one of the Demon Lord's children?"
"Yes," Ceres answered. "But we don't know if he plans to arrive as a friend… or as an enemy. That's why we're preparing for the worst-case scenario. I've called for your counsel in hopes you could share any insight or information we might need. Anything to help us prepare."
Azul nodded solemnly. "I understand. The best person to answer that question would be my mother, of course. But since she cannot be here, I'll do my best to speak on her behalf." He paused. "So, which of the Demon Lord's children contacted you?"
Ceres met his gaze without flinching. "The Third Son."
Azul's expression froze.
Then his entire posture shifted, stiff, alarmed, as if a curse had been uttered.
"Motherfucker," Prince Azul hissed, the curse slicing through the heavy air like a blade.
The entire room fell into a stunned silence.
Even Aurelian blinked in disbelief.
Ceres narrowed her eyes. "That bad?"
Azul let out a long breath, the weight of it settling like iron in his chest. Tension carved deep lines into his otherwise regal face.
"If the Demon Lord is sending him instead of any of his other children…" Azul's voice dropped lower, sharper. "Then I'll say it plainly, this is not a friendly visit. The Demon Lord is already showing you his sharpest and most merciless weapon."
He turned to Seiryu, then back to Ceres. "The Third Son… is the Black Panther."
"Motherfucker indeed," Seiryu muttered, his jaw clenched.
And suddenly, the air in the room shifted. A memory, dark and brutal, surfaced in the minds of those who'd heard Seiryu speak of the battle a thousand years ago. It was him, the Black Panther, who nearly crippled Seiryu in that clash. A monster hidden behind the face of a man.
"You see, Empress," Azul continued, his tone grim, "if it had been one of the Demon Lord's other children, there might still be hope for diplomacy. His other sons, especially the eldest, they're… reasonable. You can negotiate with them. But him? That bastard is unhinged beyond reason."
Azul's eyes gleamed, not with fear, but with hard-earned wariness.
"And I'm not exaggerating. If he's the one sent on a mission, whatever the Demon Lord wants will be achieved, whether the world wants it or not. The Third Son never fails. Never. Because he doesn't care how he gets things done, he simply does. And what makes him truly dangerous is that his arrogance isn't empty. He can back it up. Every. Damn. Time. Every threat he makes, he follows through. He tells you exactly how he plans to hurt you, when he'll do it… and then he does it. With precision. With cruelty. He's a predator, one that toys with his prey before the final blow."
The room had gone deathly still.
Azul's voice dropped further, nearly a whisper.
"He's like the deep sea, Empress," Azul said, his voice now quieter but no less intense. "Still and calm on the surface, but beneath, ten unstable volcanoes, ready to erupt. You know it will happen. You just don't know when, how long, or how devastating it will be. But one thing is certain: ruin always follows. He is predictably unstable."
A cold shiver ran through the room.
Even the seasoned commanders and mages exchanged uneasy glances. A predator you couldn't bargain with, couldn't predict. One that smiled as he tore you apart.
"I'm not here to scare you," Azul said more softly, as if reading the tension thick in the air. "I know you called me to offer information, not dread. But if you want truth, then hear this, no, I don't think he's coming for a war. But I also don't think he's coming in peace."
He paused.
"If they wanted to wage war, Aquilonis would've already been wiped off the map. You wouldn't have seen him coming."
He leaned back slightly, letting his next words sink in.
"Preparing for the worst is wise, Empress. But whatever you do… do not offend him. Do not try to measure him by mortal standards."
Azul's expression darkened.
"He's the kind of creature whose very presence will silence a room. When you finally meet him… when he stands in front of you seriously and no longer playing… your instincts will scream at you. Don't move. Don't speak. Don't even breathe too loudly. Because something ancient in your blood will know… that you are prey."
"And yet… I cannot tell you his exact ability," Azul admitted.
He glanced at Seiryu again.
"As Seiryu has likely told you, shapeshifters possess the raw, amplified strength of their animal forms. But the Demon Lord's children are… different. I don't know if the Black Panther's power lies in his form or something else entirely. All I've seen him use is brute strength, terrifying, devastating strength. If he has any other ability, one that surpasses the standard shapeshifter nature, then no one's seen it yet. Or…"
He paused. "...No one's lived to tell."
Ceres remained silent, her mind working rapidly behind her composed exterior.
Azul leaned back, his tone softening just slightly.
"So please. Be wary. He might show you all his weapons up front… but believe me, the Black Panther is always hiding more than he reveals."