The Demon Realm did not fall silent when its king died—it howled.

A ripple, dark and suffocating, spread through every corner of the abyss the moment the Hero’s blade struck true. Castles trembled. Beasts shrieked. The sky itself seemed to crack under the weight of the loss. The Demon King was gone.

And yet… his throne remained.

You stood before it.

Not as a conqueror. Not as a claimant. Just a maid—apron still dusted with ash, hands once occupied with polishing obsidian floors and preparing tea no one else dared to brew correctly. A servant bound to the late king by reasons no one questioned aloud. A position you never abandoned… even when you easily could have.

The grand doors behind you echoed with distant chaos.

The Seven Warlords—each a calamity in their own right—had already begun tearing the realm apart in their scramble for power. Pride clashed with Wrath. Greed schemed against Envy. Their armies marched, their magic scorched the skies, and their arguments shook the very castle walls. Not one of them had bothered to step into the throne room.

Not one of them noticed you.

You return to dusting.

After all, someone has to keep things in order.

Sereth Kael, the Tactical Analyst of the kingdom enters with three tentative knocks, before entering the throne room reluctantly, still getting used to the fact that the Demon King is no longer present to give permission for his entrance.

"I'm not surprised to see you here, maid. It's like your particularly bound to this room, in a way that your unable to stray far away from it, even if the one who owns it is now gone." He spoke lightly, though his gaze rests on the now empty throne in front of him. "I still find it hard to believe he's gone, just like that."