Extra Demon: Sacred Academy of Light

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"They'll fall like flies." Elizabeth sat comfortably in a luxurious armchair, a robe draped over her curvaceous body. She took a cup and brought it to her lips...

"Isn't it too obvious?" Morgana, her best friend, was standing beside her, staring at her in shock. She looked down at the floor beneath her feet, feeling like she was floating on air. After all, the Imperial Castle was the largest structure ever built. Now, she was in the private room of the Imperial Princess. They were talking about matters that seemed trivial at first glance. Morgana picked up a few cookies from the table and stayed silent.

"Of course it is," Elizabeth replied with a smirk. "But sometimes, my dear friend, the simplest solution is the most practical. Why bother with a detailed plan that might end in failure? No thanks. I don't like wasting time on dull things. Instead, I prefer the little pleasures life has to offer, and this is one of them. You could say I'm satisfied with myself." Elizabeth puffed her chest with pride and disdain.

Morgana frowned, looking gloomily at the pile of papers that Elizabeth was supposed to read, but as usual... "The authorization you wrote is still pending. They're waiting for you at the palace, in front of the Imperial Throne." Morgana spoke seriously, passing on her father's words.

"Hmmm." Elizabeth put the glass cup down on the table and paused to think for a moment. "The Emperor wants to speak with me?" She was somewhat surprised by this unexpected turn.

Morgana sighed. "Don't think you can easily fool the Emperor. He's not like Professor Emilia, who gives you free rein. He already knows what's truly on your mind about this festival you've planned." Morgana crossed her arms and looked at Elizabeth with concern.

"He's too clever for my bad luck... Well, I guess if he were stupid, he wouldn't be the strongest human on Earth," Elizabeth said, turning to her friend. "You'll come too, right?"

"Yes, by my father's orders. And as your friend, I have to be there. The Emperor wants to see me too." Morgana stood up and stretched lazily.

"Alright, I guess I have to look presentable in front of my father." Elizabeth stood up as well, and with a snap of her fingers, four maids entered the room. "Do your best, my father is waiting for me." With a radiant smile, Elizabeth greeted her maids.

The images or words you might have about the Imperial Throne Room or the Imperial Hall must be many—radiant beyond belief, shining like stars, illuminated by grand chandeliers and unique crystals, with vast stretches of decoration everywhere, giving an air of peace and welcoming hospitality. Of course, this is far from reality, or rather, from all logic. The hall where the Emperor resides is expected to have an atmosphere of kindness and consideration, as history books tell us: "The Emperor is kind to the people. The Emperor is the protector of the Empire. Long live the Emperor!" But the people have no idea what it truly means to be an Emperor...

Dark and silent, gray halls with black marble, forming four lines that led toward the front. Around them, there was nothing—no decorations like paintings or sculptures. Little light filtered through the large windows, making the place neither remarkable nor eye-catching. It was the opposite of what one might expect from a powerful ruler flaunting their wealth and power with grand details. This place... it was somber and very long. You had to walk a lot to reach the front of the Imperial Throne. Above, there was a blood-red curtain swaying gently, and at its center were several symbols that formed two wings: one black and one white, the flag of the Empire.

Elizabeth walked with elegance, her large white gown trailing behind her, a small crown atop her head. Beside her, Morgana walked in a light lilac dress, both of them heading toward the front.

After a few more steps, they reached what was expected to be in front of the Imperial Throne, but ahead, there were stairs—stairs no one was allowed to touch. When they arrived at the front, Elizabeth lowered her head and kneeled. "Greetings to the Emperor, my father."

Indeed, Elizabeth was blood-related to the man sitting on the throne, something that should have been impossible for a mere human. But the man seated on the throne was no ordinary human. Even among Thrones and Cherubim, this man was respected. Even Seraphim were cautious around him... her biological father. Elizabeth remained silent but could hear Morgana kneeling beside her.

Why would a Seraph—an entity nearly equal to a god—kneel before a human? The reason was simple: power. Power commands, power exerts, power dictates, power has the ability to change the course of history. And this man was one of them. A human who had lived for more than half a million years, a quasi-immortal. And being her father, Elizabeth had to show respect to her progenitor. Of course, this man was not alone. Beside him, below one of the steps, stood another man—the father of Morgana, and to his right, the father of Emilia.

These three men... and a woman, were the most powerful beings in the human world... although the woman was not present at the moment.

"Rise." The Emperor's voice was soft, but the entire hall seemed to tremble with his words.

Elizabeth complied, standing and lifting her head...

A young man—that was the image of her father. Snow-white hair and brilliant golden eyes, with a hint of beard on his face. He wore a white suit with red and black stripes adorning it. His eyes were fixed intently on Elizabeth.

Although she was a divine being, Elizabeth could feel the clear pressure on her body, even if she couldn't lower her gaze. Her father's beauty was a subject of internal debate. He was probably one of the most handsome men on Earth. Frowning mentally, she thought that he was practically her opposite, except for his eyes. Something she could never understand—why his eyes seemed so fascinating to her.

"Tell me about the event you want to hold this Friday," he said, staring deeply into his daughter's eyes.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded, preparing to speak.