The morning sun did not shine on the Dark Citadel. It didn't dare. The terrifying fortress was perpetually shrouded in a swirling vortex of thunderclouds and gloom, a meteorological promise of eternal despair.
Inside the Citadel, however, the mood was less "eternal despair" and more "awkward administrative shuffle."
Demon Lord Valdred sat on his Obsidian Throne, staring blankly at a stack of parchment. He had not slept well. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a petite, silver-haired human mage poking his chest plate and calling his Hellfire "wobbly."
He rubbed his temples, the metal gauntlets clinking against his helmet.
"It was a dream," he muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty hall. "Surely, it was a hallucination induced by stress. I did not hire a human. I did not get bullied by a girl half my size. I am the King of Cinders. I am absolute."
"Morning, Boss!~"
Valdred flinched so hard he nearly cracked the armrest.
Elara popped up from behind the throne like a jack-in-the-box. She was holding a steaming mug of something that smelled suspiciously like hazelnut coffee—a scent that had absolutely no business existing in the realm of darkness.
"You..." Valdred choked out, pointing a trembling finger at her. "You are still here."
"Of course I am," Elara said, hopping over the back of the throne and landing lightly on the dais next to him. She was wearing her oversized mage robes again, but today she had accessorized with a pair of fuzzy slippers that looked like decapitated bear heads. "I work here now. Remember? You hired me. It was a very emotional moment. You called me 'beautiful.' I cried. You cried. We bonded."
"I did not cry!" Valdred roared, his voice booming. "And I called your spell structure beautiful! There is a significant difference!"
Elara took a loud sip of her coffee, looking unimpressed. "Semantics. Anyway, I took the liberty of reorganizing the morning schedule. The 9:00 AM torture session with the Goblin King is canceled. He's annoying and smells like wet dog. Instead, we're doing a 'Strategic Resource Audit.'"
Valdred stared at her. "You canceled the Goblin King? He controls the northern mines! He will be furious!"
"Let him be furious," Elara shrugged. "What's he gonna do? Fight me? I'll turn him into a throw rug." She leaned in, her grin widening, her eyes glinting behind her round glasses. "Unless... you don't think I can handle a little goblin? Do you think I'm weak, Demon Lord-sama?"
There it was. The trap.
Valdred navigated the conversation like a man walking through a minefield blindfolded. "I... I did not say you were weak."
"Good," she chirped, spinning around. "Now, where is my office? I assume you cleared out the East Wing for me. I need morning light for my plants."
"We do not have morning light," Valdred gritted out. "We live in a void of darkness."
"Details, details. I can cast a localized sun spell. Just show me the desk."
Before Valdred could explain that the East Wing was currently occupied by a colony of flesh-eating bats, the heavy double doors of the throne room swung open.
"Lord Valdred!"
A woman strode in. She was the polar opposite of Elara. Tall, curvaceous, and radiating a mature, dangerous elegance. She had long crimson hair, horns that curled gracefully back from her temples, and she wore a black business suit that was tailored within an inch of its life. A pair of bat-like wings were folded neatly against her back.
It was Lilith, the High Secretary and Head of Human Resources (and Succubus).
"Lilith," Valdred exhaled, feeling a wave of relief. Finally, a professional. "Report."
Lilith marched to the foot of the stairs, clutching a clipboard. She looked stressed. "My Lord, there are rumors circulating in the barracks. The Orcs are saying a human intruder broke in yesterday and... complimented you into submission? They say she is a witch who controls minds with shame."
Valdred groaned and buried his face in his hands. "It is not mind control, Lilith. It is..."
Lilith looked up and finally noticed the small, silver-haired figure standing next to the throne, casually sipping coffee in bear slippers.
Lilith froze. Her eyes narrowed. The air temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
"Who," Lilith asked, her voice dangerously calm, "is this?"
Elara lowered her mug. She looked Lilith up and down, inspecting the Succubus with the critical eye of a judge at a dog show.
"Elara," the mage said simply. "New Head Mage. Who are you? The receptionist?"
Lilith's clipboard snapped in half.
"I," Lilith hissed, stepping forward, her wings flaring out slightly, "am Lilith. High Secretary to the Dark Lord. Custodian of the Black Ledgers. And I do not recall processing any paperwork for a 'Head Mage.' especially not a human child playing dress-up."
Valdred sensed danger. "Lilith, wait. She is—"
"Ooooh," Elara interrupted, a smirk playing on her lips. She walked down the stairs, one step at a time, until she was standing toe-to-toe with the taller demoness. Elara had to crane her neck to look up, but somehow, she still looked like she was looking down on Lilith. "High Secretary? That sounds fancy. Does that mean you're the one who filed the dungeon reports in alphabetical order instead of by toxicity level? Because that was stupid. I fixed it this morning. You're welcome."
Lilith's face turned a shade of red that matched her hair. "You... you touched my files?"
"Touched them, fixed them, improved them," Elara said breezily. She poked Lilith's arm. "You're pretty tense, aren't you? Is it the outfit? It looks tight. Maybe that's cutting off circulation to your brain."
"How dare you!" Lilith raised a hand, dark magic crackling at her fingertips. "I will teach you respect, little girl!"
"Enough!" Valdred shouted. The sheer volume of his voice caused the torches to flare. Both women stopped and looked at him.
"Lilith," Valdred said, trying to sound commanding despite his headache. "Elara is... a necessary hire. Her magic output is unprecedented. She is to be treated as a General."
Lilith looked betrayed. "My Lord... a human? Over me? I have served you for three centuries!"
"And Elara," Valdred continued, turning to the mage. "Be nice to Lilith. She runs the logistics of this army. We cannot function without her."
Elara pouted. "Fine. If you say so, Boss." She looked back at Lilith and gave a small, condescending wave. "Let's get along, Secretary-chan."
Lilith looked like she was about to scream, but she swallowed it down. She was a professional. "As you wish, my Lord. However... we have a problem that requires immediate attention. A 'Head Mage' sort of problem."
"Oh?" Elara perked up. "A challenge?"
"The West Archive," Lilith said with a malicious glint in her eye. "The Mana Condensers have ruptured. The archives are flooded with acidic slime. It is highly resistant to standard magic. If it isn't cleared in the hour, centuries of dark history will be dissolved." She smirked at Elara. "Surely, a General can handle a bit of cleaning?"
Valdred winced. The West Archive slime. It was a recurring nightmare. The slime was magical waste; it absorbed spells and grew larger. The only way to kill it was with overwhelming physical force or magic so dense it overloaded the slime's absorption capacity.
"Sounds gross," Elara said, wrinkling her nose.
"If you can't handle it," Lilith said smoothly, "I can call the Trolls. They don't mind the smell. Of course, it would be embarrassing for the new Head Mage to be outshined by a Troll on her first day..."
Elara's eyes snapped to Lilith. The playfulness vanished. "Lead the way, Secretary-chan. I'll show you how a real mage works."
The West Archive
The situation was, in fact, gross.
The West Archive was a vast underground library filled with towering bookshelves. Or at least, it used to be. Now, the floor was covered in three feet of pulsating, neon-green slime. The goo bubbled and hissed, dissolving the legs of ancient mahogany tables.
Valdred, Lilith, and Elara stood on a balcony overlooking the mess.
"Disgusting," Valdred muttered. "The ventilation system is completely clogged."
"Well?" Lilith crossed her arms, looking at Elara expectantly. "Go on. Magic it away."
Elara leaned over the railing. She watched a bubble burst with a wet plop.
"Hey, Boss," Elara said, turning her back to the slime and facing Valdred.
"What now?" Valdred asked.
"This is a big job," she said, tapping her chin. "Like, really big. That slime is magically resistant class-4 waste. If I cast a normal fireball, it'll just eat it and get bigger. I need to use Compression Magic. High-tier stuff."
"So use it," Valdred said. "That is why I hired you."
"I can't," Elara sighed dramatically, slumping her shoulders. "I'm just... feeling so unsure of myself right now. The impostor syndrome is kicking in. Lilith was so mean to me earlier... I feel like maybe I am just a little human girl."
She peeked at him through her messy bangs, that predatory grin returning.
"I think I need a morale boost. A really big one."
Lilith looked between them, confused. "What is she talking about? Just cast the spell!"
Valdred stiffened. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He looked at Lilith, then at Elara. He couldn't do this in front of his secretary. It was too humiliating.
"Elara," Valdred warned, his voice low. "Do not toy with me. Clear the slime."
"I'm trying!" Elara whined, acting out a scene of immense feebleness. "But my mana... it's so weak! I need my leader to inspire me! Tell me I can do it! Tell me I'm special!"
"My Lord," Lilith said, stepping forward. "She is clearly incompetent. Allow me to summon the Trolls."
"No!" Elara snapped, breaking character for a second to glare at Lilith. Then she looked back at Valdred, eyes wide and shimmering. "Boss... please? Just a little praise? Unless... you're embarrassed? Is the big bad Demon Lord shy?"
She poked his armor. Clink. Clink.
"Are you shy in front of your secretary? That's so cute."
Valdred felt the blood rushing to his face. The slime was rising. It was starting to eat the bottom shelf of the Encyclopedia of Torture Methods, Vol 4.
He had no choice.
"Fine!" Valdred barked. He turned his back to Lilith to hide his face and looked down at Elara.
"Elara," he gritted out.
"Yes, Valdred-sama?" She beamed, wiggling with anticipation.
"You are... you have..." He struggled. His brain refused to form the sentences. He was a warlord, not a poet. "You have a... very distinct presence."
Elara stopped wiggling. Her face went flat. "A 'distinct presence'? That's it? That's a 2 out of 10. That's what you say to a weird cousin at a reunion. Try again. Look at me. Look at my eyes."
Valdred groaned. He forced himself to look into her violet eyes. They were, admittedly, very striking. Intelligent. Mischievous.
"Your eyes," Valdred started, his voice dropping an octave, becoming surprisingly serious. "They hold a depth of mana I have never seen in a human. They are... captivating. And your ability to analyze a magical structure in seconds is... brilliant. You are a genius, Elara. I am lucky to have found you."
Silence.
The bubbling of the slime seemed to fade away.
Lilith's jaw dropped. She stared at her master in horror. Captivating? Lucky?
Elara stood there frozen. The smug grin was gone. Her face turned a violent shade of strawberry red. Steam literally began to rise from the top of her head.
"I... uh... w-what?" she stammered, her voice cracking. She hadn't expected him to be that sincere. She expected him to say 'You are strong.' She didn't expect 'Captivating.'
"I said you are brilliant!" Valdred yelled, trying to cover his own embarrassment with anger. "Now fix the damn library!"
"O-okay!" Elara squeaked.
She whipped around to face the slime. She slapped her hands to her cheeks, trying to cool them down.
"Okay. Okay. He thinks I'm brilliant. He thinks I'm captivating. Oh my god."
She took a deep breath. The air around her began to vibrate.
"Validation Level: Critical," she whispered.
She raised one hand. She didn't snap her fingers this time. She clenched her fist.
"Gravity Well: Event Horizon."
There was no explosion. There was no fire.
There was simply a terrifying crunching sound.
The air in the center of the room collapsed. The three feet of slime covering the entire library floor was instantly yanked toward a single point in the center of the room. It was dragged across the floor at supersonic speeds.
In the span of a single second, tons of slime were compressed into a sphere the size of a marble.
Elara flicked her finger. The marble shot through an open window and vanished into the sky. A moment later, there was a distant twinkle as it exited the atmosphere.
The library was spotless. Not just slime-free—the floor was polished clean by the friction of the spell.
Elara stood there, her hand still raised, her robe fluttering in the aftershock.
Lilith was trembling. She clutched her clipboard to her chest. "That... that was a Tenth-Tier Gravity Spell. She cast it without a chant. She cast it without a staff."
Valdred let out a long, long sigh. "I told you. She is necessary."
Elara turned back around. She was still blushing, but the smugness was creeping back in, fueled by the adrenaline of the magic.
"Heh," she chuckled, adjusting her glasses, though her hands were shaking slightly. "See? Easy. That's what happens when you motivate your employees, Boss."
She walked past Valdred, deliberately brushing her shoulder against his armor.
"But..." she whispered so only he could hear. "You can do better than 'captivating' next time. That was a little... cheesy."
She winked, then stuck her tongue out at the stunned Lilith. "Bye, Secretary-chan! I'm going to go pick out my office now. I think I'll take the room next to the throne. The one with the velvet couch."
"That is my private study!" Valdred shouted after her.
"Not anymore!~" Elara called back, skipping out of the library doors.
Valdred stood alone on the balcony with Lilith. The silence stretched out for a long moment.
"My Lord," Lilith said quietly.
"Yes, Lilith?"
"I hate her."
"I know," Valdred sighed, watching the empty doorway where the small chaotic mage had disappeared. "I know."
But as he turned to leave, Valdred glanced at the sparkling clean floor of the archives. For the first time in three hundred years, the mold in the corners was gone.
He touched his chest plate where she had poked him.
She is trouble, he thought. But she is my trouble.
"Come, Lilith," Valdred said, his cape swirling as he turned. "We have a Strategic Resource Audit to attend. And... find out what kind of snacks she likes. If her sugar crashes, she might accidentally blow up the dungeons."
Lilith looked at him, defeated. She pulled out a fresh clipboard.
"Understood, my Lord. Snacks. Added to the agenda."
The Demon Lord and his Secretary walked out into the gloom, leaving the pristine library behind them, the echo of teasing laughter still hanging faintly in the air.