Chapter 1079: Kingdom of Obsession [Part 1]

Chapter 1079 – Kingdom of Obsession [Part 1]

The moon was red.

A bloody moon hanging above the old world like an eye that had watched too much arrogance and decided to keep staring anyway.

Under that moon, Runa stood at her prime.

Runa Delacour.

Grand Sorcerer of the Starbound Circle.

The woman kings invited with gifts and feared with silence.

She stood on the balcony of her family estate, high above a city that glittered with lamps, canals, towers, and old money. Her golden-blonde hair fell down her back in heavy waves, caught by jeweled pins and woven with thin spell-thread. Her robe was not merely clothing. It was a declaration.

White and deep blue silk layered with gold embroidery. Constellation marks along the sleeves. A collar high enough for dignity, fitted enough for every foolish nobleman to suffer. Her waist was cinched by a black-gold sash holding charms, spell cards, and a dagger made from moonstone.

She looked a little like Naomi.

Or rather, Naomi looked a little like her.

Same elegant bone structure. Same composed mouth. Same eyes that could turn soft or fatal depending on the quality of stupidity presented before them.

But Runa was older.

Sharper.

More dangerous.

Naomi carried warmth like a guarded candle.

Runa carried flame like a court sentence.

She had everything.

Money? Endless.

Her family owned land, mines, trade rights, libraries, and three private bridges in the capital because apparently one bridge was not enough for rich people with architectural insecurity.

Status? Highest.

Her title opened royal doors and closed enemies’ mouths.

Power? Obscene.

If she lifted one hand, mana bent.

If she spoke a word, walls listened.

If she smiled during negotiation, men began reviewing their wills.

She lived freely, lavishly, and without needing permission from anyone.

Except...

Romance.

The one battlefield where wealth, talent, power, and beauty became an exhausting parade of useless applicants.

They came in lines.

Princes with oiled hair.

Dukes with poems they clearly paid for.

Knights with muscles and the emotional depth of polished shields.

Scholars who claimed to admire her intellect but stared at her chest whenever she explained leyline theory.

Sorcerers who wanted to "combine bloodlines" and somehow expected her to be flattered by being treated like premium livestock.

Runa rejected them all.

Politely at first.

Then firmly.

Then creatively.

One count still fled whenever he saw geese because of her.

Most men lacked the courage to approach her honestly. Those who did usually wanted her title, her money, her power, her body, or the bragging rights of taming the untamable golden sorcerer.

She found them dull.

Tragically dull.

Like wine watered down by cowards.

And yet, there was one man... no, not man.

Demon.

A demon who had entered her life through a mistake.

One autumn night, during an experiment involving planar resonance, spirit flame, and absolutely no request for infernal interference, Runa performed a summoning.

It was supposed to call a lunar archive spirit.

Instead, the circle exploded with black sparks, the candles screamed, one shelf caught fire, and a demon fell out of the air face-first onto her floor.

He groaned into the tiles. "Ow."

Runa stood over him, smoking wand in hand, expression flat. "You are not an archive spirit."

The demon lifted one finger. "Depends what you want archived."

"I want knowledge."

"I know several things."

"Useful knowledge."

The demon paused.

Then smiled up at her, carefree and irritatingly handsome, with lazy eyes, and horns that curved like polished obsidian.

"...I know where to find good wine?"

Runa unsummoned him immediately.

Or tried to.

The circle flashed.

The spell snapped.

The demon remained on her floor.

He blinked.

Runa blinked back. "That should have dismissed you."

"Maybe I’m very attached."

"You arrived twelve seconds ago."

"I have strong instincts."

Runa pointed her wand at him. "Leave."

The demon sat up, rubbing his jaw. "I would, but I don’t know where I am."

"Not my problem."

"Harsh."

"Accurate."

His name was Kaelmor.

At least, that was what he claimed.

He was not a servant. Runa would never have kept a demon servant. Too dramatic. Too legally troublesome. Too likely to rearrange the pantry based on sins.

He stayed anyway.

At first, only because he seemed oddly stranded. A demon without clear purpose, drifting like smoke pretending not to be lost. He was too carefree to be harmless, but not dangerous enough for her to kill immediately.

So she allowed him around.

With rules.

Many rules.

He could not enter her bedroom.

He could not touch her grimoires.

He especially could not say, "Need a hand?" every time she worked with binding circles, because the first time he did, she nearly blasted him through three walls.

Their relationship was not romance.

It was irritation.

Then usefulness.

Then habit.

He helped once in a while, though she never asked.

A rival sorcerer sent assassins? Kaelmor happened to be nearby and tripped one into a fountain.

A noble tried to block her funding? Kaelmor "accidentally" got him drunk and convinced him to donate double.

A cursed beast escaped the lower fen? Kaelmor carried her extra mana crystals without comment, then pretended he had only come along because the moonlight was pretty.

Runa could handle herself. But his presence became... tolerable.

Sometimes even amusing.

He did not bow to her status.

Did not tremble at her power.

He lounged in her laboratory windows and asked improper questions about star magic. He ate her expensive fruit. He called her "goldfire" just to watch her glare.

Friend, perhaps.

A strange one.

Then one night under a red moon, he ruined it.

Runa had been returning from court, exhausted from rejecting three marriage offers, two alliance requests, and one absurd proposal from a prince who claimed he dreamed of her hair.

Kaelmor waited in the courtyard. He stood with rare seriousness, dark coat shifting in the wind.

Runa noticed immediately. "What did you break?"

He laughed softly. "Your trust in me, maybe."

Her fingers tightened around her fan. "Explain before I choose violence."

He stepped closer. "Runa. I love you."

The courtyard went silent.

Even the night insects seemed to file a complaint and leave.

Runa stared at him. Then sighed. "No."

Kaelmor blinked. "No?"

"No."

"I confessed my love."

"I heard. I refused."

His face shifted, disbelief flickering across it.