Chapter 615 - 611 – CLOSING THE STALL IN THE AFTERNOON, RETURNING TO HER TRUE FORM, AND THE EMPRESS’S DEADLY GAZE

The sun slowly began to lean toward the west, casting long golden-orange light over the quartz-stone streets of the Metropolis of Nocture. Although the day was nearly turning to evening, the line in front of stall number 14 in Block C of the Culinary District showed no sign of shrinking at all. Dozens of people still stood patiently in line, hoping to taste the last pieces of grilled chicken coated in secret sauce, which had been the biggest sensation in the city since morning.

Behind the glass display counter, however, Sylvia felt that her adventure as "Runa the wandering elf girl" had been more than enough for today. Her feet were not tired thanks to her Demigod body, but her patience for serving the crowd of people that kept arriving had reached its limit. She had no intention of turning this new profession into a twenty-four-hour franchise restaurant business.

Sylvia raised one hand to signal the line, then smiled faintly behind her elf-face disguise.

"I apologize to everyone still waiting in line," Sylvia said in a clear, calm voice that could be heard plainly by everyone around the stall. "Today’s stock of mutated fowl is completely sold out. The stall will close now, and you’re welcome to come back tomorrow morning."

At once, a chorus of disappointed sighs echoed along the line. Some adventurers and citizens who had stood for hours slapped their foreheads with regretful expressions.

"Ah... and I was only three people away," complained a gray-furred young beastkin in a despairing tone.

A middle-aged dwarf in front of him shook his head slowly, though he showed no anger at all. "What can you do? Special ingredients like that must be limited in quantity. All right, Miss Runa! Tomorrow, very early, before sunrise, I’ll be standing right at the front of the line!"

"That’s right! Don’t let us run out again tomorrow!" several other customers chimed in as they dispersed in an orderly way, leaving the stall area.

Although they were disappointed at missing out on food, not one of them dared to make a commotion. The reputation of stall number 14, linked directly to the garrison’s military post, together with the extraordinary deliciousness already proven, made the citizens hold the mysterious owner in great respect.

After the last of the hunters and citizens had completely left the front of the stall, the atmosphere in Block C went quiet again.

Sylvia turned toward the corner of the table where the golden-furred dog sat leaning back casually. "Sol, watch this place for a bit. Don’t let anyone touch the leftover equipment on the table. I’m going to get the car from the parking lot."

’Yes, Your Majesty,’ Sol answered through telepathy with a wide yawn, showing his small fangs. ’Don’t take too long. The evening wind is getting cold, and my pretty fur needs rest somewhere soft.’

Noir, who had been hiding in the shadow on the floor since morning, also gave a silent confirmation, making sure the surrounding area stayed clear of meddling thieves.

Sylvia turned and walked leisurely out of Block C toward the commercial district’s public parking area, which was several blocks from there. On arriving, she found her armored mana-crystal off-road vehicle parked neatly without a single scratch. She opened the driver’s door, got into the cabin, and started the engine, which immediately hummed softly with pure power.

She drove the vehicle back to the front of stall number 14. With quick motions, Sylvia began tidying up the leftover airtight sauce bottles, spice containers, and cleaned cooking utensils, then put them back into her System Storage with its absolute time-stasis effect.

As for the physical structure of the stall, created from Stacia’s magic expansion orb, it was left standing intact on the plot of land in accordance with the Merchants Association’s weekly lease rules. She did not need to dismantle it now, because the association guaranteed the stall’s physical security as long as the lease remained valid.

After all her personal items and leftover ingredients were stored neatly in the system, Sylvia got back into her off-road vehicle. She did not return straight to the Nocture palace. Instead, she drove to a luxury inn, reserved for elite travelers, located not far from the commercial district.

She booked a private suite, parked the off-road vehicle safely in the inn’s underground garage, then walked up to her reserved room. Once the carved wooden door was shut tight and magically locked from the inside, Sylvia made sure the surroundings were completely silent.

She raised her right hand before the large mirror in the room. With a gentle touch of magic energy, the high-level disguise spell clinging to her body slowly dissolved.

The soft-blue hair shifted back to a long jet-black that fell beautifully over her shoulders. The pointed elf ears shortened, returning to the shape of perfect human ears. Her emerald-green eyes blinked and turned back into a pair of deadly heterochromatic irises, one side pure blood red and the other a gleaming, majestic gold.

The appearance of a wandering elf girl named Runa vanished without a trace, replaced by her absolute true form: Sylvia, the Queen of Death, the Demigod and absolute ruler of the Metropolis of Nocture.

She smoothed the folds of her elegant black gown before the mirror, making sure not a single detail of the disguise remained. When everything was perfect, Sylvia raised her right hand and tore a thin spatial cloak in the empty air.

CRACK...

A pitch-black dimensional rift formed in the middle of the inn room. Without hesitation, Sylvia stepped into it, crossing hundreds of kilometers instantly in the blink of an eye.

WHOOSH.

The spatial door opened in a very familiar corner of a room. The distinctive smell of old paper, lavender aromatherapy candles, and the soft glow of mana crystals welcomed her arrival.

Sylvia stepped out of the dimensional rift and found herself standing in the private study in the east tower of Nocture’s main palace.

But the atmosphere inside the room felt far colder than usual.

In the middle of the room, behind a large, magnificent black wooden desk, a woman with long golden hair neatly coiled sat upright without moving in the slightest. The eight golden wings on Sofia’s back were folded neatly, but the holy light at the tips of her feathers looked slightly dimmed, giving off an aura of calm that was far more terrifying than an ordinary outburst of rage.

On the desk, a pot of magic chamomile tea, still steaming hot, sat neatly beside two white porcelain cups. Around Sofia, piles of bureaucratic reports, population charts for thirteen million souls, and city budget documents were stacked mountain-high, far more than on ordinary days.

Sofia did not even look up when Sylvia appeared from the spatial rift. She slowly lifted her teacup, took a small sip of the warm liquid with very graceful motions, and set it back on its small saucer with a sharp ’clink’ that rang out in the silence of the night.

Only then did Sofia raise her head. Her clear blue eyes looked straight at Sylvia, a direct, sharp, meaningful gaze, the signature look of a wife and empress waiting for her husband to come home after he had run off to play outside all day without permission.

"Good afternoon, Runa the wandering elf," Sofia greeted her in a very gentle tone, so gentle it sent shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it. "How was your haul at the market today? Was the profit of your two silver pieces enough to make up for your absence from the palace study for a full twelve hours?"

Sylvia, who normally stood tall without a flicker of fear before cosmic gods or ancient monsters, suddenly felt her throat go a little dry. She knew very well that the sweet smile on Sofia’s face right now was a sign that her diplomatic defenses had to be raised to the maximum level.

"Ah... Sofia," Sylvia greeted her awkwardly, trying to look as calm as possible as she walked up to the desk. "The tea... smells lovely."

"This tea has been steeping since two in the afternoon, Sylvia," Sofia cut in, her voice soft but pressing on every syllable. She pointed to the pile of papers on her left with the tip of a slender finger. "And these documents have been waiting for you since three days ago, right before you went north to ’get acquainted’ with an ancient dragon in a cave."

Sol, who happened to have leapt out of a spatial pocket and landed on the carpeted floor a few seconds later, made the smartest decision in the history of his life. The golden cat turned around without a sound, crept slowly backward behind the window curtain, and pretended to be dead asleep there to avoid the wave of bureaucratic penance from the Empress.

Noir, still hiding in Sylvia’s shadow, sent a short telepathic message that sounded extremely unhelpful: ’Good luck, Your Majesty. I will pray for the safety of your body and soul from within the darkness.’

Sylvia took a long breath. She stepped forward, pulled out the chair across from Sofia’s desk, and sat down gracefully, looking at the Empress with a pleading gaze she very rarely showed anyone in this world.

"All right... I admit I was wrong," Sylvia said, yielding first. "I just wanted a change of scenery for a little while."

Sofia looked at her for a long time, then a long sigh finally escaped the empress’s lips. The tension in her face eased a little, replaced by a sincere look of weariness behind her beauty. She shook her head slowly.

"I’m not angry that you went to the city, Sylvia," Sofia said gently, her fingers smoothing a strand of golden hair that had fallen against her cheek. "I was just worried. And... I miss you in bed when night comes, while I have to wrestle with the satellite city expansion reports alone."

Hearing that honesty wrapped in a coaxing tone, Sylvia’s cold defenses collapsed at once. She reached out and took Sofia’s fingers in hers on top of the desk.

"I’m sorry," Sylvia whispered sincerely. "Tonight... I won’t go anywhere. I’ll sit right here, keep you company, and finish every line of these documents until morning if needed."

Sofia smiled faintly and squeezed Sylvia’s fingers back warmly. "Good. Then let’s start with the pile of port logistics budget reports on the right."

In a corner of the room, Sol peeked out slowly from behind the curtain and let out a sigh of relief, glad that the storm in the palace study that night had at last been calmed by a cup of tea and a loyal promise from the Queen of Death.