Ignoring the indignant expressions on the faces of the four chained Satans, Roxanne walked gracefully toward the edge of the balcony. The moment her heels clicked against the marble ledge, the deafening noise of the grand plaza vanished instantly. A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the millions of devils gathered below. Nobles, soldiers, and commoners alike looked up, their breath catching as her oppressive, magnificent aura washed over them.
Beside her, the four Satans were forced to sit in their chains, perfectly visible to the entire capital—a stark, humiliating monument to the pathetic failure of the old era.
Roxanne looked out over the sea of bowed heads, a beautifully sweet, completely fake smile stretching across her lips.
"My dear, beloved people," she began, her voice dripping with an exaggerated, sugary warmth that echoed directly into the minds of every single devil present. "Did you really think I was going to stand up here and give you some grand, inspiring speech? Did you think I'd talk about unity, the glory of our race, and how much I treasure your loyalty?"
The nobles blinked, a few of them shifting uncomfortably on their knees, completely thrown off by her gentle tone.
Then, Roxanne's smile instantly vanished, replaced by a look of profound disgust.
"Please. Don't make me laugh," she sneered, her voice dropping into a sharp, biting tone. "You are all just a bunch of pathetic weaklings."
A collective gasp rippled through the front rows of the nobility, their eyes widening in shock.
"Seriously, tell me," Roxanne continued, resting her hands on the balcony railing and leaning forward, looking at them like a disappointed teacher looking at a classroom of idiots. "How can you lot—who literally refused to tap into your true potential for thousands of years until I practically forced it down your throats—actually consider yourselves devils? It's embarrassing. From what I've seen, all you high and mighty nobles know how to do is go around provoking some weaklings just to satisfy your own fragile, bloated egos."
She let out a sharp, mocking chuckle that cut through the plaza like a whip.
"You squabbled over status, preened over your minor heritages, and sat comfortably under the illusion that you were something special. Let me disabuse you of that delusion right now: to me, your bloodlines mean absolutely nothing. You are a race of degenerates that has stagnated for millennia. I did not give you that bloodline enhancement art because I cherish you. I gave it to you because I refuse to rule over a kingdom of weaklings. It was not a gift—it was a modification to make you slightly more useful toys."
She stepped forward, her casual, mocking demeanor instantly shifting into a suffocating pressure. The ambient mana in the air grew so heavy that some of the weaker devils in the crowd collapsed, gasping for breath against the obsidian pavement.
"Do not mistake my rule for a political transition. I am not a 'Satan' elected by a pathetic council, nor am I a politician who needs to compromise with you," she declared, her eyes flashing with absolute dominance. "I am Roxanne, the true daughter of Lucifer Morningstar, the original and rightful Ruler of the Underworld. The throne you stand before belongs to my bloodline by divine right. Your opinions, your pride, and your traditions are utterly irrelevant."
In the back of the balcony, Sirzechs clenched his fists so hard his nails drew blood, but the dark chains pulsed, violently keeping him pinned down.
"You have no terms to negotiate. You have no right to claim to become my enemy." Roxanne's voice dropped into a chilling whisper that echoed with terrifying clarity in everyone's minds. "From this day forward, you have exactly two choices. You will either obey my every command without a single whisper of dissent, or you can choose to struggle. You can choose to play the rebel, you can choose to cling to your useless pride, and you can die trying to resist me. I will gladly paint the walls of this palace with the blood of any house that thinks it has a choice."
She raised a single hand, and the massive magic circle bearing her personal crest in the sky flared with a blinding, authoritarian crimson light. Her expression suddenly shifted, the mocking tone fading into something deeply intense, dark, and raw.
"The old Underworld is dead! I have taken back what belongs to my father, Lucifer Morningstar! Look up at the sky and feel the blood in your veins! That power screaming inside you right now is my birthright, a spark of the absolute glory my father left behind while you parasites let it rot! So here is how this is going to work: you will kneel, you will obey, and you better hope you are useful enough to survive my rule.
Remember, my dear citizens, now you are no longer bound by the rules of your bloodline purity or noble heritage. I have brought everyone to the same starting line. If you have that talent, then train and show me your resolve, then I will let you become the same nobles you desire so much. Oh, and this is also for you nobles—if you don't want your families to be replaced, show me your value!
And let's be entirely clear—I have absolutely no problem wiping out a few of your precious 'noble' families just to make an example. It means nothing to me to burn your legacies to ash! If anyone out there still thinks they deserve to sit on this throne, if anyone thinks they possess the pride to match the Morningstar, consider this my personal challenge to you! Step up and try it, or bow your heads and fall in line! Your only other option is becoming a footnote in history!"
For a second, the silence across the plaza was dead quiet, heavy with an agonizing, breathtaking emotional weight.
Then, the entire capital just exploded. Thousands of proud nobles didn't even hesitate—they slammed their faces right into the dirt, shaking as they submitted, completely overwhelmed by her raw, terrifying passion. Behind them, the commoners and soldiers dropped to their knees, letting out a roar so loud it literally shook the palace walls.
Nobody cared that she had just threatened to murder them or completely upend the social order. In the Underworld, it has always been about survival of the fittest. If anything, Roxanne's fierce, unyielding pride and fiery arrogance made them respect her even more. This was exactly the kind of ruler they had actually been waiting for. They weren't looking at another soft politician; they were looking at the true, roaring spirit of Lord Lucifer—the original, magnificent devil who dared to rebel against God himself.
Her ruthless charisma completely flipped the room. Even the nobles who were sitting on the fence a minute ago felt their blood boil with fanatical devotion and instantly became her most loyal followers. Devils have always had an instinctual, deep reverence for the original Satan bloodlines. And when that bloodline happens to belong to someone stronger and more fiercely alive than anyone they've ever met, you don't argue. You submit.
Roxanne turned back toward the four Satans, her dress swirling smoothly as the chants of her new kingdom echoed around them. She looked down at Sirzechs with a cruel smile, her eyes still burning with that intense, victorious fire.
"You see, Sirzechs?" Roxanne whispered, leaning over him. "They never cared about your justice. They just wanted a master strong enough to make them bow."
" And at times like this, it is also their only way to stay alive " she added as she left, leaving behind a cheering crowd and four chained Satans.
*****
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