Chapter 14.1, Another Dancer on the Black Emperors’ Palms

Chapter 14.1, Another Dancer on the Black Emperors’ Palms

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“The Devil King Cup!?”

It all started with a single letter that arrived at the Magic University in Beilanea.

The sender hadn’t signed it, but the recipient’s name was clearly written:

To Miss Irene.

Irene knew that handwriting quite well.

“...What is Warren up to this time?”

Indeed, the letter had come from Warren, the man known as the Black Emperor, and a Junior Minister of the Holy Demon Kingdom. If Warren had sent Irene a letter under the guise of anonymity, he must have had his reasons.

“He’s scheduling this event during the same period as my official visit to the Holy Demon Kingdom... This is supposed to be an unofficial letter, right...? And he wants me to compete as a guest? What is he thinking!?”

Irene crossed her arms with a huff, but as soon as her eyes fell on the second piece of parchment enclosed in the letter, her expression shifted.

“...What? The prize for the Devil King Cup is... exclusive rights to Devil King Asley for a day?”

She didn’t even notice the other prizes listed.

Exclusive rights to Devil King Asley for a day — her gaze was locked on those nine words, her face inches from the parchment. Her widened eyes scanned the text, right to left, left to right. Slowly, her hands began to tremble as she read and reread the prize description.

Her eyes sparkled, her body quivered, her cheeks flushed, and a silly grin spread across her face.

“Is something the matter, Miss Irene?”

“Gah! Huh? Trace!? What are you doing here!?”

They were in Irene’s private quarters.

“...Didn’t you summon me, Miss Irene?”

Trace’s calm reply, like a blast of wind, instantly scattered her confusion away into the air.

[Hehehe... How charming. She accepted it so easily. Refusing was never really an option for her, was it?] Trace mused with a smile, but Irene couldn’t bring herself to meet the former’s gaze.

“Miss Irene, this is your chance to demonstrate your authority.”

“My... authority?”

“Yes. It’s time to show why they call you the Invincible Sprout. This isn’t just a contest — it’s crucial for the War Demon Empire’s public image.”

“Public... image...” Irene repeated the words under her breath as she paced the room.

After several laps around the room, she stopped right in front of Trace.

“Yes! Public image! That’s it!”

“Exactly, Miss Irene!”

The two exchanged a knowing smile.

“So... the real threat must be Lylia, right?”

“It’s unlikely to be just a battle of combat skills. With Warren involved, you should prepare for anything.”

“That makes sense... I’ll need to plan ahead.”

“And don’t forget about cunning strategies, Miss Irene. The Devil King Cup isn’t a place to get caught up in the rules.”

“...You’re right! Let’s do this, Trace! Follow me!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

And so it was decided: Irene, the Invincible Sprout, would enter the Devil King Cup.

All for the sake of those nine words.

Indeed... everything was playing out just as the Black Emperor had planned.

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