After carefully gathering all the Desire Energy Crystals, Hel rose into the air and flew out of the underground storage pool. She soon found Niv, who was still busy packing up the remaining supplies.
At that moment, Niv looked like a mother tending to her children — surrounded by a group of tiny mechanical elf girls, all working diligently to scavenge the last bits of useful material.
"Niv," Hel called out, landing beside her. "I've figured out a way to use the Desire Energy. We can integrate it into the elves' equipment."
As she spoke, she pulled out a shimmering pink crystal and handed it over.
"I've sealed the refined Desire Energy inside this crystal. This tiny piece alone holds as much power as ten sixth-tier, one-star magi combined. It's more than enough to power the elves' gear. However," Hel continued, "this stuff has some minor side effects — it can't be used directly, and you must never touch it with your spirit—"
But before Hel could finish, Niv had already accepted the crystal and, out of habit, scanned it with her spiritual sense.
The next moment, she was clinging tightly to Hel, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed.
"M–Master… Niv… wants…"
"No, you don't want."
Hel sighed, pinching Niv's face and squishing her cheeks into all sorts of shapes.
"Can't you let me finish a sentence first? And don't think I don't know — you've got seven external brains. There's no way a little bit of lust aura could actually affect you."
"Hehe~ You caught me, Master. I just wanted to use the opportunity to pounce on you~"
"Enough with the teasing. Back to business."
Hel released her, gently patting the smaller girl's head before setting her down.
"All right. We've already stripped this place of everything valuable. It's time to head home. But before we leave, I plan to station some puppets here — they'll maintain basic functions and monitor any movement from the Empire."
Niv nodded, immediately switching into professional mode. "The lower-ranked puppets can handle city maintenance — keeping infrastructure running and cleaning up debris. Higher-ranked ones can serve as combat units, which you can recall later if needed."
"How many puppets do we have in total above the first rank?" Hel asked curiously.
If the numbers were high enough, she could reforge them into Puppet Knights, forming an elite mechanized army to defend her territory.
But when Niv reported the actual figures, even Hel was taken aback.
"Across the four cities, we recovered over sixty thousand second-tier or higher puppets. Specifically: sixty thousand Tier-2s, six thousand Tier-3s, three hundred Tier-4s, sixty Tier-5s, and four Tier-6s. However, some of these are specialized models — like the mechanical octopus types, designed for support rather than combat — so not all are suitable for conversion."
Hel smiled faintly. "That's more than enough. Even if we only rework a small fraction of them, that's already a formidable army. If I'd had this many back then, I wouldn't have needed to take that risk and strike personally."
"Leave the first-tier puppets behind to maintain operations," she instructed. "Take all the rest."
Once all sixty thousand-plus combat puppets were stowed away inside the necrotic dimension, Hel and Niv finally began their journey home.
Meanwhile, far away in the city of Mandrake, chaos had erupted. A massive uprising had broken out — countless citizens stormed the Mandrake Keep, looting, smashing, and setting fires.
The few knights still loyal to Brenda, the former Grand Duchess, struggled desperately to protect her as they fled toward Selphis City.
But even there, voices of resentment awaited her. The moment she arrived, the Noble Council of Selphis submitted formal charges against her.
If not for the mercy of the newly crowned Queen — the former Third Princess herself — Brenda might already have been stripped of her title and thrown in chains.
Inside Selphis Castle, Brenda sat stiffly across from the Queen. Her once-proud posture had vanished; she leaned forward nervously, barely sitting on the edge of the chair, like a student awaiting judgment.
The Queen, Aistherin, quietly signed several documents before finally setting her quill down and lifting her tired eyes toward Brenda.
Her gaze held both weariness… and faint irritation.
"Brenda," she said flatly, "shouldn't you be rebuilding your Mandrake territory? What brings you here again?"
Brenda swallowed, her hands trembling slightly."Y–Your Majesty Aistherin , surely you've heard what's been happening in my lands. I had no choice but to come. Please… for the sake of my mother, help me one more time."
Her voice was small, pleading — the sound of someone who had lost everything.
But Aistherin's reply was like a basin of cold water poured over her last spark of hope.
"Brenda, it's not that I don't want to help you. It's that your downfall is… politically necessary."
"W–What?"
"The defeats at Mandrake against the beastmen, the destruction of the Mandrake Pass, and the loss of royal control over the region — someone must be held accountable. The imperial generals won't take the blame. The nobles of our kingdom refuse to either. So naturally… that leaves you."
Brenda's composure cracked.
"But none of this was my fault!" she shouted, standing up. "The Mandrake campaign was ordered directly by the Imperial Military Council! And the demolition of Mandrake Pass— that was your command! You were the one who cut the route between Mandrake and the Kingdom, not me!"
Her voice faltered as she spoke. The realization dawned on her mid-sentence.
She wasn't stupid. She understood now exactly what Aistherin meant.
The talk of needing "someone to take responsibility" — that was all an excuse. The truth was simple: Aistherin no longer wanted her in power.
With the Mandrake Pass destroyed, the Mandrake territory was effectively cut off from Aistherin. And a duchess ruling a territory the crown could no longer control… was nothing but a liability.