Baiyi did not consult the other Voidwalkers regarding the abdication of the throne but no one made any noise at all. After all, none of them were particularly fond of the backwater that is the Steppe. The Walkers used the convenient excuse of it being supposedly protected by the War God: Taking up his name like that, stealing his sword and his woman is bad enough. Now you want to own even his land? If their War God does exist, just on that account, he would have come mano a mano with you!

  Of course, because of his nature, the Lich played the part of a contrarian. “Not that I doubt your decision but I cant just sit and watch you waste a perfect chance to build an army out of them…… Your own undead army! The weaker ones can be transformed into Spartoi, while the stronger ones can be turned into Revenants! Then youll have an army of ten millions undead, large enough to scour the entire land of Isythre. The best past is you dont even have to worry about disloyalty and insufficient battle fodders”

  The f*ck is wrong with this psycho? Baiyi heaved a sigh of consternation. If I do as he said, I dont think my executioner would be the War God I think that guy from the clergy would come for me personally!

  The Voidwalkers couldnt care less about it, but whatever little sentiments they held for the throne were magnified tenfolds among the Steppe khans. In the royal tipi, a white hot quarrel was going on with two major sides. One side saw the change as an improvement, as the throne would belong to whoever had the power and capacity to protect it for themselves; while others believed that as the War Gods Sword was the symbol of their deity, so both traditionalist or otherwise should defend the sword from falling into the hands of an outsider.

  “Whoa, brother! How about we put your faith in the sword to the test and have your men try to take that sword back from him?” The khan of Ashva clan loudly proclaimed. “Unlike you, I have seen how he obliterated the men from the Blue Hawk clan. You should go and try that out.”

  He was visibly calm as he had experienced a lot of ups and downs in just one morning. Not only that, being the strongest khan among them, he had every political reason to advocate for a dismissal of the War Gods Sword.

  “That greedy and foolish face of yours that covets the throne makes me sick, Altaam! Only a mad man would be indifferent to the idea of handing the War Gods Sword to an outsider! Have you no fear for the War Gods wrath?!” A khan of a weaker clan, whose only hope for ever becoming a royal laid with the mysterious mandate of the sword, retorted.

  “If our god is gong to rain his wrath down on anyone, it would be on that grey fellow first! But look at him, he’s completely unscathed! Does that not scream to you His acceptance of him being the new owner of the sword? The least we can do is to respect that divine decree!”

  “Ill admit that I have no idea if the War God would punish him, I have never seen such an incident myself but if you send your men to retrieve that sword, maybe you can see for yourself His divine punishment!”

  “You spineless cowards! Letting a thief steal the blessing that the War God had bestowed to us! All of you have no rights to claim that you are the War Gods people!”

  “Oh, so youre the War God’s people? Why, be my guest! Go take the sword back! Its not like we have never lived without the sword. And in history there were times when the King of the Steppe did not inherit the sword. Whats the big deal?”

  “Exactly. Look, if the sword is the ultimate mandate and power for a King, then explain how did that woman lose despite using the sword! A weapon cant defend your throne. Hence, the need to maintain this tradition is redundant.”

  The fight went on. The majority’s decision was apparent as most had no choice but to accept the reality. Fighting him to get that sword back? Or casting all dignity and pride aside to pitifully beg him to remain as the King? Neither of those alternatives were plausible.

  Attie listened to the debate in the royal tipi, her mind returning to the prophecy. A disaster of blood and terror was brewing, and the tipi was the eye of the hurricane.

  Her people…… would be in a land of danger and frost; and yet, they would be far and safe from the bloody climate. Attie felt a surge of small relief at that small consolation.

  \r \r \r

  This demon Does he really care about me? Is he this enamored with my body, to the point of trying to gain my affections through this unique mean?

  She shook her head to dispel the thoughts. It was either a fortunate coincidence, or it was an elaborate tease like a child poking and teasing their new pet. At first they treat you well because youre new, then they toss you aside after some time.

  Must I really leave the Steppe and follow him back to the faraway and dangerous Northern Lands, becoming just a spectator to the bloodshed, unable to help? The former King of the plain, chosen by the War God remaining idle?

  Somewhere deep down the mind of the delirious girl, a new, radical idea was formed.

  Why not use his lust for you as an advantage? Submit to this demon, earn his trust, then steal the sword back from his hands and kill him while he is unguarded? She could even learn a few things from the people in the Northern Lands, or even the powers the demon had! Then when she return, the sword in her hands and with new powers at her disposal, she could make the Steppe truly great again

  The full prophecy said the demon would bring destruction and glory to the Steppe. The destruction has already happened, so what is the glory? Doesnt that refer to…… Me?

  Her heart started racing. Me. Thats right! This must be it! Although my body would be tainted by this filth but it is a small price to pay to save the entire Steppe!

  Even if she could not gain his complete trust, she could still help make her people’s lives better. As long as she stuck to her plan, the risk would be small. The new wound on her body when he was finished with her, she would just think of it as a mad dogs bite!

  She was more and more sure of her own idea. The Mark within my body didnt vanish even though Id lost the War Gods Sword either. It just became dormant. Isnt this a testament that the War God had not abandon me? Isnt all of this a test from him?

  Attie made a firm decision. Even if she was no longer the King, she would still sacrifice herself for the people and the Steppe. She will remain by the demons side, looking for the right opportunity!

  Just like a similar figure in Great Britain, Attie became King because of a swords mandate. And just like that figure, they were both flat-chested and nave, like a knight material 1 would be.

  If Baiyi had known even a little of her thought process, he would have suggested for her to look into a career of story-writing because that story she came up with in her head should not be wasted.

  Attie caught up with Baiyi after making her conclusion. Watching his back, she started thinking about how to earn his trust. Although she had confidence in her beauty and body but she was aware that it would be woefully insufficient compared to the even more alluring Undine.

  Especially her chest. Her eyes went down to look at one of her “flaws”.…… Only to see all the way down to her toes, her view was completely unobstructed.

  Putting physical “impairment” aside, there was also the issue of her having zero experience in the art of seduction. She reflected on her past observations of women who always seemed to have a flock of males around them and concluded that a smile was perhaps the most basic step, then the intentional-unintentional intimacy

  She ran up to Baiyi, her hand extended to grab his shoulder.

  That action froze in midair. She was still hesitant, being thin-skinned. After repeating her new mantra of This-is-for-the-War-God-this-is-for-the-people-this-is-for-the-Steppe nth number of times, she clenched her teeth and finally grabbed Baiyis shoulder.

  “Yes?” Baiyi stopped and turned around…… ……

  To see the girl looking up at him, her face muscle twitching as she flashed him a full set of her teeth No, she was probably trying to smile

  Can this even be called a smile? It looks like it belongs in a slasher film. Needs a bit more of, well, actual mirth, you know? Baiyi was dumbfounded as he had seen the girls smile before. It was quite cute and completely normal…… So whats with the grimace? Did she fried some of her circuits after falling onto the ground headfirst?

  He extended his hand to her forehead to see if she had caught a fever, but before he could reach her, Attie immediately shrinked back a little, her expression fearful like a kitty being caught in the middle of scratching her owners furniture.

  Whats with you? Baiyi thought but he did not dwell on it too much. He resumed walking with the girl by his side.

  On the other hand, Attie was furiously fanning herself, trying to cool herself down from the heat. She decided that she needed more mental preparation. She must put her pride down and really interact with the demon properly

  Baiyi was, of course, completely unaware of her mental labor. He finally found his mount nibbling grass in the royal court and climbed up. Then, using his mana, he lifted the girl up by her neck like a a mother cat would on her kitten.

  “Ahh!” Attie shouted out in surprise as she was tossed on to the back of his goat. She backed away from him, at the same time making sure that she didn’t fall down. Her original Seduce the Demon battle plan was temporarily forgotten.

  Of course, Baiyi saw her reluctance and repulsion towards him. He dismissed it and said reassuringly, “Time to go. You should look at your homeland for the last time.”

  She nodded, still in shock. She looked on as the war goat trotted slowly.

  She saw the land she had been living on for years.

  She saw her people packing up their luggage, preparing to leave. The scene was oddly similar to how they had looked when they first came to the Steppe.

  No one seemed to be seeing her off, but she didnt mind. She just watched on, greedily looking at everything to imprint them in her mind

  She had already averted her gaze once the war goat had left the royal court.

  But then she heard a call from a familiar voice, “Attie! Well be waiting for you in our new home!”

  It was the elderly retainer and a few other uninjured guards, waving at her. There was not a shred of sadness in their farewell, just relief and the joy of finally being free.

  It was the familiar, yet also near forgotten smile that broke the levee. Attie finally burst into tears.