I will be a demon in this life!

Of the 40 days the Marquis had set as a deadline, 21 had already passed.

It was early morning; there were only about three hours left until sunrise. The sky was cloudy, but the light of the full moon shone through the clouds.

Mart was walking down one of the mansion’s hallways.

Iristel had been in labor for hours.

The door opened and the midwife came out; sweat beaded on her face, but her gentle expression suggested that everything had gone well.

"Congratulations, Marquis—you’re the father of a healthy baby girl."

Mart Sevec nodded.

He was happy, though he seemed calm.

The midwife sighed; she was exhausted.

Like her, he had shown discretion, so Mart hired her permanently, and she had been entrusted with assisting each of the marquis’s wives during childbirth.

Now, she was a wealthy midwife who didn’t have to worry about the shadow of war looming over the continent.

Mart entered and saw Iristel smiling warmly as tears streamed down her beautiful face.

Mart looked at the baby, and the baby fixed her dark red eyes on her father.

The baby smiled sweetly.

"My little one, do you recognize me?"

Mart asked, though he didn’t expect an answer, but the baby babbled and laughed sweetly.

"A true genius—no, a True Demon."

Mart made the baby levitate until she was in his arms.

Iristel watched him in silence, full of anticipation.

"Your name will be Lirica; you will be a very powerful and beautiful demoness, and your name will always be part of the history of the demonic world."

The baby with reddish-black horns babbled.

"You seem like a happy baby."

The baby’s hair was black as night and as bright as the most beautiful stars.

Mart sat down next to Iristel.

"Now there are three of us."

Iristel’s heart pounded; it made her very happy to know that, despite everything, Mart hadn’t forgotten the past—or his words.

"Thank you, I love you both," she said in a voice that was tired but full of happiness.

The baby babbled in response to her mother’s words.

Both Mart and Iristel laughed; that morning was a happy one.

But the marquisate’s peaceful times would not last forever.

...

Six days later, Mart Sevec’s father sent a messenger to his son to inform him that a councilor from the Republican Council was at the border and wished to meet with the Marquis, and that if the request were denied, the councilor would declare the Sevec marquisate a "rebel state."

Mart was in little Persec’s private garden when he read the message the messenger handed him.

Little Persec was crawling around, along with some flying locusts, chasing a fly whose demonic energy equaled one point of "cursed energy."

"Something urgent has come up."

Mart kissed Isirid, then let his son’s locusts catch the fly, and after seeing little Persec laughing happily, he left to head for the borders of his territory.

...

Mart arrived at the border in a demonic vehicle painted red, blue, and gold.

He got out of the vehicle, and two demons dressed in blue and gold uniforms approached him.

One demon walked to the left of the marquis, and the other to his right.

One of the demons was Sitan Bokar, who had earned the marquis’s trust, and the other was Moraf Arcaris.

Right at the border, Mart saw a white military tent.

"It seems he intends to make us wait."

Mart murmured those words calmly, then conjured a white table and two white chairs.

Half of the table was just beyond the marquisate’s border, and the other half was located within the marquisate’s territory.

Mart sat down and took out a book to read; the book dealt with the boundaries of the territories under the jurisdiction of the nobles and those under the jurisdiction of the governors appointed by the Republican Council.

When night fell, the Councilman deigned to step out of his tent.

The Councilman was accompanied by three Baratran commanders and Mart Sevec’s brother.

Mart looked at Benjac Sevec, and Benjac looked at him with contempt.

Marquis Sevec shook his head and then turned his gaze toward the councilman,

a demon with long black hair, a tanned complexion, three black horns on his forehead, and black eyes, who at that moment was wearing an elegant and sumptuous white tunic and carried a sword with a dark blue and silver scabbard at his side.

Councilman Granz Zelf sat down as he looked at Sitan Bokar and Moraf Arcariz.

The councilman’s eyes lingered on Moraf for a few seconds, and then he looked intently at Mart Sevec.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marquis Sevec."

"It’s also a pleasure to meet you, Councilman Granz Zelf."

"I see you know me."

"It wouldn’t be fitting for my title if I didn’t know my allies and my enemies."

The councilman’s probing gaze assessed the marquis, but after several seconds he could not discern anything about him.

"Worthy of the title? I’m not sure I agree. Recklessness can be the primary cause of misfortune; history proves it," said Councilman Granz Zelf in a somewhat stern tone, as if trying to point out the marquis’s faults.

"That’s true; that’s why one must know one’s enemies before acting, so that infiltrators won’t whisper ’the demons’ war strategies’ to the enemy."

"I think you’re a very insolent young man."

The councilman’s voice betrayed traces of anger.

Mart Sevec merely smiled subtly and said to him:

"Granz Zelf, don’t you call me ’Marquis’ anymore?"

"You..."

Mart’s eyes turned purple for a few seconds, and Granz Zelf hesitated to speak.

"Mr. Zelf, why don’t we stop wasting time? Tell me, why are you here? What is the Republican Council’s decision?"

Although Mart’s words were spoken calmly, the Councilman felt that if he said the wrong thing, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

Granz Zelf, with cold sweat running down his face, looked at the "Baratrense commanders," who seemed completely calm.

"How is this possible? Don’t these good-for-nothings sense the danger?" That thought crossed Granz Zelf’s mind.

While Mart and the Councilman engaged in diplomatic conversation, Teraz Sevec watched Benjac Sevec.

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