Diana stood in the grand hall of the Holy Empire's palace, her golden eyes scanning the ornate walls and the lavish decorations that symbolized the Empire's wealth. Across from her, the Holy Empire's so-called Hero stood with his back straight, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
He was young—barely twenty, with bright, righteous eyes and an expression filled with unwavering faith. His golden armor gleamed under the candlelight, and the divine crest of the Holy Empire was displayed proudly on his chest. He exuded confidence, arrogance even, as if he believed the world bent to his will simply because he had been chosen by the gods.
Behind him, the Third Prince of the Holy Empire stood in silence, his gaze unreadable as he observed the interaction.
Diana tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smirk. "I see the Holy Empire finally decided to send someone with actual authority to speak." She glanced at the Third Prince before shifting her gaze back to the Hero. "But tell me, why is the Holy Empire's beloved Hero standing before me like a guard dog?"
The Hero bristled at her words, his grip on his sword tightening. "Mind your words, Empress," he warned. "You stand in the Holy Empire, not in Verdeca. I will not tolerate disrespect toward my homeland."
Diana arched a brow. "And yet your Emperor and princes disrespect me by refusing to meet me directly." Her voice was calm, yet sharp enough to cut through the tense air. "Or perhaps they fear what I might say?"
The Third Prince's expression remained neutral, but the Hero stepped forward, his righteous fury igniting. "The Holy Empire stands as the pillar of justice and purity!" he declared, voice filled with conviction. "Unlike Verdeca, which drowns in corruption, we uphold the divine will—"
"Purity?" Diana interrupted, her golden eyes narrowing. "A kingdom that meddles in the politics of other nations? A kingdom that shelters cultists under the guise of faith? A kingdom that manipulates heroes like pieces on a chessboard?"
Her words sent a ripple through the hall. Some of the gathered nobles gasped in shock, while others exchanged uneasy glances.
The Hero's expression twisted with anger. "You dare accuse the Holy Empire of such things?!"
Diana took a step closer, her presence overwhelming despite the lack of any visible aggression. "Oh, dear hero," she mused, tilting her head slightly. "Surely you're not naive enough to believe everything the Holy Empire tells you?"
That was the final straw.
With a roar, the Hero lunged at her.
His sword, coated in a brilliant golden aura, sliced through the air toward Diana's neck.
Before her knights could react, before anyone could interfere—
Diana moved.
With effortless grace, she sidestepped the attack and kicked him in the stomach.
The impact sent him flying backward. He crashed onto the marble floor with a heavy thud, the breath knocked out of him.
A stunned silence filled the room.
Diana didn't even spare him a glance. Instead, she gracefully walked forward, her boots clicking against the pristine floor. With a deliberate motion, she placed her foot on his chest, pinning him down as if he were nothing more than an unruly child.
"You dare attack me without warning?" she said, her voice dangerously soft. "Are all so-called heroes this ill-mannered?"
The Hero gritted his teeth, his face burning with humiliation and rage. His aura flared, and with a surge of strength, he knocked her foot aside and rolled away, springing back onto his feet.
"You think this is over?" he growled, gripping his sword tightly. His aura blazed like divine fire, golden and fierce. "I will not be looked down upon!"
Diana let out a slow breath, her expression unreadable. "Ah, I see," she murmured. "You're young. You still believe strength is determined by titles and flashy magic."
She reached toward the nearby table, where a silver teaspoon rested beside a teacup.
With an almost lazy motion, she picked it up.
The audience gasped in horror.
"Are you— Are you mocking me?!" the Hero shouted, eyes widening as Diana twirled the small spoon between her fingers like a weapon.
Diana smiled—calm, unbothered, but with a glint of challenge in her eyes. "If a Hero of the Holy Empire can't handle a woman wielding a teaspoon, then perhaps your title is undeserved."
The Hero roared in fury and charged again.
His movements were fast, fueled by rage and divine energy, but—
Diana was faster.
As his sword came down, Diana effortlessly dodged, stepping aside as if she were merely dancing through a battlefield.
The Hero's blade hit empty air.
With a flick of her wrist, Diana's teaspoon struck his wrist.
A sharp clang echoed as the impact forced him to loosen his grip. His sword wavered, just slightly—but enough for Diana to swipe his leg with a precise kick.
He stumbled.
She stepped past him, her movements fluid like water, and gently tapped the back of his head with the spoon.
The humiliation was palpable.
The Hero roared in frustration, his aura flaring brighter. "You—!"
Again, he attacked. Again, Diana dodged effortlessly.
To the gathered nobles, it was as if she were toying with him.
Every time he swung his sword, she stepped just out of reach. Every time he thought he had her, she redirected his momentum with the teaspoon, striking in the most unexpected ways—his elbow, his knee, his shoulder—making him lose balance again and again.
"You have strength," Diana admitted, her voice calm. "You have magic, you have divine blessings—but…"
The Hero lunged.
Diana vanished.
Before he could react, her spoon was at his throat.
The hall fell into absolute silence.
Despite being an 8th-circle swordsman, despite his raw power—he had lost to a woman wielding a teaspoon.
Sweat dripped down the Hero's face as he stared into Diana's golden eyes, wide with disbelief.
"You lack experience," Diana said quietly. "You lack wisdom. And most of all…"
She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"You lack the ability to see the truth."
With that, she pulled back, flicking the teaspoon aside.
The Hero staggered backward, his hands trembling, his pride in shambles.
The Third Prince, who had watched the fight in silence, finally spoke. "Impressive," he admitted, stepping forward. "To humiliate an 8th-circle swordsman without even using a weapon… truly, Verdeca's Empress is as fearsome as they say."
Diana turned her gaze toward him, her expression unreadable.
"Now tell me, Your Highness," she said smoothly. "Are you here to talk… or was this all just a test?"
The Third Prince smiled faintly. "Perhaps a little of both."
Diana narrowed her eyes.
Something was wrong. The Holy Empire never acted without purpose. And if they had gone so far as to test her…
Then what were they truly planning?
As expected, the Holy Empire wanted something.
The Hero, still humiliated from his loss, stormed out of the hall, his pride shattered. The nobles followed, murmuring amongst themselves, leaving only Diana and the Third Prince behind.
Diana exhaled, shaking her head. "What a troublesome boy."
She turned her gaze to the Third Prince, who was watching her carefully. Unlike the Hero, he had remained composed throughout the fight, but now that they were alone—
He suddenly let out a deep sigh and slumped into the nearest chair, his back hitting the cushion like a man who had just run a marathon.
Diana blinked.
"...Tired already?" she asked, amused.
The Third Prince muttered something under his breath before reaching for a teacup with slightly trembling hands. His grip was unsteady as he brought it to his lips, and despite his earlier bravado, he now looked…
Like a timid little hamster.
Diana tilted her head. Just moments ago, this prince had stood tall with confidence, acting like some great authority. But now, sitting before her, he looked soft, harmless—even a little cute.
She watched as he nervously sipped his tea, only to flinch when he realized she was staring. His shoulders tensed, and he quickly straightened his posture, forcing his usual princely demeanor back in place.
Then, with a faux stern expression, he pointed at her. "I… I demand an explanation!"
Diana raised an eyebrow. "For?"
"For what just happened!" he huffed, puffing out his chest. "You humiliated our Hero—"
"He attacked me first."
"—And you keep interfering with the Holy Empire's affairs!"
Diana chuckled softly, leaning back. "Oh? I wasn't aware that self-defense was a crime."
The prince scowled, but before he could argue further, Diana calmly pulled out a folder and placed it on the table between them.
His gaze flickered to it. "What… is this?"
"Something I'd like you to read."
Curious but wary, he hesitated before reaching forward. He opened the folder and began scanning the contents—his eyes moving from one page to another, his expression shifting from confusion to shock.
His fingers tightened around the pages.
"This… This is—"
"Data from the Holy Empire's secret experiments," Diana confirmed, watching him closely. "Your kingdom has been conducting research on artificial mana infusions, forced awakenings, and biological enhancements." She tapped a page. "This document details subjects who… well, let's just say they didn't survive the process."
The Third Prince's face paled.
His hands clenched into fists. "This… This can't be real. You're trying to frame us!" he accused, his voice rising. "This must be the Temple's doing! You're colluding with them!"
Diana's gaze softened—not in sympathy, but in pity.
"Do you truly believe that?" she asked quietly.
"Of course!" he snapped, glaring at her. "The Crown Prince—my brother—would never allow something like this! He is just! He is righteous! He would never condone—"
Diana leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "So you're saying your beloved older brother has no faults?"
"None!" the prince declared without hesitation.
Diana exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a brief moment.
Then, when she looked at him again—her gaze was filled with undeniable pity.
The prince froze.
"Why… Why are you looking at me like that?" he muttered, suddenly uncomfortable.
Diana didn't answer immediately. Instead, she leaned back and tapped the folder lightly. "I don't expect you to believe me," she said. "But tell me—if your brother is truly perfect, then why is it that people within your own empire are desperately trying to cover up his actions?"
The Third Prince opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the documents. His faith in his brother was absolute—but was it truly justified?
Doubt flickered in his eyes.
Diana watched him struggle before finally breaking the silence.
"You asked for an explanation," she said, her voice smooth. "But I believe you're the one who needs to start asking questions."
The prince clenched his jaw. "Then tell me… what do you want, Diana Hinsdale?"
Diana blinked. "Me?"
"Yes," he said firmly. "Do you want the throne of Verdeca? Power? Wealth? If you support the Holy Empire, I can give you those things." He met her gaze with determination. "Or perhaps you'd rather secure your son's future? If you back the Holy Empire, I will personally support Lucien as the next Emperor of Verdeca."
The room fell silent.
Diana stared at him.
Then, she burst into laughter.
The Third Prince's confident expression crumbled. "W-Why are you laughing?!"
Diana wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. "Oh, dear prince, you're adorable," she said, shaking her head. "You speak of power as if it's something so easily given. As if the future of Verdeca can be determined by a single alliance."
Her laughter faded, and her voice turned cool. "I have no interest in Verdeca's throne."
The prince blinked in surprise. "Then—"
"And I certainly have no interest in making a mess in another country just to satisfy the Holy Empire's ambitions."
His mouth opened and closed like a fish. "You… You truly don't want it?"
Diana gave him a small, amused smile. "Did you honestly think I'd be so easily swayed?"
The prince slumped further into his chair, looking utterly defeated.
For a moment, he just sat there, his brows furrowed as he tried to process everything. Then, with a deep sigh, he muttered under his breath:
"…I really am an idiot."
Diana's lips curled into a smirk. "I wasn't going to say it."
He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. "I thought I had it all figured out… I thought if I just acted strong enough, I could handle politics like my brother…" He peeked at her between his fingers. "But you… You're scary."
Diana tilted her head. "Oh?"
"You just fought the Hero with a teaspoon." He shuddered. "How does one even—never mind!"
Diana chuckled.
Despite his earlier arrogance, the Third Prince was truly just a boy—nineteen, inexperienced, and trying too hard to prove himself in a world filled with ruthless leaders.
But perhaps… there was still hope for him.
She sighed, standing up. "Listen, little prince," she said, placing a hand on his head and ruffling his neatly combed hair.
He squeaked in surprise.
"You should be grateful you're not like your brother," she continued, withdrawing her hand before he could protest. "Because once you start walking down his path, there's no turning back."
The prince was stunned silent.
For the first time, he didn't argue.
Instead, as Diana turned to leave, he simply sat there—his hand unconsciously touching his messy hair, his mind filled with far too many questions.