The Heavenly Demon of Terror-Chapter 307: Aftermath of the Audience with Queen Nerezza

Samuel's POV

The obsidian gates shut behind us with a dull boom, like the final word in a sentence written in blood.

Roselle walked ahead of me, her posture straight, silent as a blade drawn but not yet swung. The corridors of the palace twisted like living veins — pulsing with twilight energy, walls breathing softly like some ancient beast slumbered beneath the stone.

Neither of us spoke for a while.

But silence? It's never just silence between Roselle and me. It's a battlefield of unsaid words, of past lives and bruised pride echoing off the stone.

Finally, I broke it.

"So," I muttered, "Nerezza doesn't want loyalty, just utility. That make her wise... or desperate?"

Roselle's voice was calm, precise. "Both. She rules a kingdom of ghosts, memories, and regrets. But the Pale Queen knows the value of a weapon she didn't forge."

"She called me a monster."

"You are."

I paused, glanced at her. "You say that like it's a compliment."

"It is." She smirked slightly, her crimson eyes glinting in the dim light. "In Oblivion, monsters don't hide under beds. They sit on thrones." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

"Hmph," I scoffed. "Still doesn't answer why. Why go to all this trouble? You could've crushed this world if you wanted. Why play nice with Nerezza?"

Roselle finally stopped walking. Turned. Faced me.

"I don't want to rule Oblivion, Samuel," she said, voice softer now. "I want to keep it from unraveling."

She stepped closer, her expression unreadable. "There's something worse coming. Something that even you can't punch your way through. I've seen it in the Void Echoes. A wave of unmaking. Entire realms gone, not conquered — erased. As if they were never written into the book of existence."

I frowned. "You still didn't answer the real question."

Roselle tilted her head. "Which one?"

"Why me? Out of all your blades and beasts, why drag your ex-something through this damn dimension?"

A pause.

Then, quiet:

"Because you're the only one who doesn't break when touched by oblivion."

I blinked.

She turned away again, beginning to walk.

I followed after her. "Is that a poetic way of saying you trust me?"

"No," she said. "It's a pragmatic way of saying I don't have a better option."

That made me laugh. "Classic Roselle."

We walked in silence again, the tension slightly softened now. Not gone, but manageable.

As we reached the spiral steps leading out into the lower citadel, I glanced at her profile — sharp, elegant, dangerous.

"Do you think Nerezza believed us?" I asked.

"She doesn't need to believe us," Roselle said. "She just needs us more than she hates us."

"That's comforting."

"You'll get used to it."

We emerged into the open air — if you could call it that. The skies of Oblivion weren't skies at all. Just endless, churning twilight. Stars flickering in and out like dying memories. A world between dying and rebirth.

She walked to the edge of a floating platform, staring into the void below.

"I can feel it," she murmured. "Whatever's waking beyond the Forgotten Gate... it's hungry."

I stood beside her.

"So we head there next?"

Roselle shook her head. "Not yet. We need to speak to the Null Architects. They've been silent for centuries. If anyone knows how to reseal the Gate — it's them."

I exhaled. "Great. More cryptic immortals. Just what I needed."

Roselle smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I'll make sure they don't eat you."

I gave her a sidelong look. "Still protective, huh?"

"I need you alive, not intact."

"That's the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."

She laughed — a soft, low thing that vanished into the void.

And for a moment... it felt like the war hadn't begun yet.

But deep down, we both knew.

This was just the prelude.