Everything had been laid out for the sake of her beloved daughter's restoration from her illness, and by now, only 2 figures stood inside the bedroom chambers, as they were the only people necessary in delivering the remedy that the royal princess needed.
"... Pardon me for my rude question, but... Who are you to that man? You seem to be rather close to him..."
Both Amenophis and 'Whitlea' stood beside the resting princess as the question was posed; in truth, the empress had actually been meaning to ask that query for a while, as the rather close relationship that those 2 had with each other fondly reminded her of the one she had with her departed husband...
"Hm, well... I guess you could say I'm his wife~ Although, we're much, MUCH closer than that~"
"I see. I suppose it explains how... Ahem... Excessively loving you are towards him."
This 'Whitlea'... She was the woman who turned herself into a sword for that man to wield back in their previous bout... Like the rest of those who had seen her for the first time though, Amenophis couldn't help but feel a bit unsettled with the insanity that loomed in her eyes; it was like she had gone through something so terrible in life, that no other possible tragedy in this world could ever hope to compare to the one she had experienced...
Interestingly enough however, the madness inside her was most evident whenever she was beside her 'beloved', though he himself was seemingly always oblivious about this fact... How exactly did these 2 meet in the first place? And what is it that led to her becoming so obsessed over him?
"Well, let's just say he's someone I love so much~ Anyway... Let's help your daughter make her grand recovery now, shall we?"
Upon saying that, 'Whitlea' would then gently place her hand upon the sickly Amunet's chest, as her power quickly began pouring into her sickly body's dying flesh to rid it of its deathly illness; it would only take a few seconds for the effects to take place, with the dying princess' body already beginning to show signs of recovery as her sickly appearance gradually started to fade away.
"... A-Amazing... You're able to remove something even I couldn't..."
Her necrotised skin returned to a healthy state, and her slim, wasted body kept slowly regaining its original weight... Not only that however, but the strange energies that were the cause of her sickness had all been drained away, finally freeing her from the hellish torment that the disease had been putting her through for the past couple of weeks.
"Hm... It's done, she's completely recovered. For now though, don't make her do anything too much. It's best to focus on her recovery so that she won't get sick again."
The sight of Amunet finally being rid of her illness moved Amenophis to such incredible lengths; she quickly rushed towards her still-unconscious daughter and began hugging her with a warm embrace, tears falling down from her eyes as she held onto her quite tightly.
It was over... Amenophis no longer had to fear for Amunet's survival... All she could feel was the washing sensation of gratitude and relief that swelled in her heart, as she would then began thanking 'Whitlea' for the wondrous miracle she had bestowed upon her...
"... Thank you... I will never forget what you did for me. Words alone cannot express how thankful I am, however... I swear that I'll return the favour, no matter what."
"Don't worry~ We're allies now, aren't we?" Whitlea answered with a smile. "You should be thanking Novus the most though, since he's the one who made me do this for you."
Novus... So that was that man's name... In her honest opinion, it was kind of a dull name, though of course, this wouldn't sully the deep form of respect she had developed for him, even in the slightest...
"Of course... I hope we can cooperate with each other well in the future..."
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"... F-Forgive me, Oh Highest Among Us... The mortal I entrusted failed her task... It seems that our arrival into the real-world will be delayed again..."
The mighty draconians began holding another meeting as the fateful battle in the mortal realm had finally concluded: it was disappointing, to say the least, that the High Empress of the Mizraean Dynastium, the one who Mammon made a deal with, had not only failed her task in opening a gateway for them to come through, but had also been rid of the power they gave her, allowing her to
go back on the deal she made and close the portal that would've allowed them to conduct their great conquest...
Not only that though, but the dreadful illness they put into her daughter had been dispelled all too easily, making them lose all the advantageous leverages they once-had over the Dynastium's ruler...
"Do not worry, Lord Mammon... It was the mortal's fault for failing her task. It's a shame that we won't be able to eternally torment her soul for her failure, though."
The strongest among them all would speak in a strangely calm voice, a tone that completely didn't match his embodiment of rage: in contrast, there was a terribly wide and twisted grin on his face, an exceeding expression of excitement that unsettled even his other fellows amidst their brief assembly.
"In any case... The secondary objective we had was successfully achieved. "Lord Leviathan, my friend... Based on what you've seen from your observations of their battle..." the Lord of Rage would speak again, his speech directed towards one of the other draconians who was next to him.
"The Exalted One's champion... How strong is he? Did you manage to ascertain his level of power? Will he be able to fight against us, just like how the prophecy proclaims?"
Without delay, Leviathan, the Lord of Envy, would reply to his liege's question in earnest: he had seen the battle's occurrence from the portal, and his reptilian eyes never once strayed from observing its entirety.
"He is strong, and there is no questioning this. Without a doubt, he will definitely be able to beat any of us in a 1-on-1 battle. Even I am not certain that you can beat him by yourself, my liege."
"... Hahaha... I see. Truly, that terrible prophecy still holds strong to this day..."
The prophecy had always struck a deep sense of fear into most of them... Excluding the Lord of Rage, of course: unlike the others, he had already fully accepted that he would suffer defeat at the hands of the Exalted One's champion, and his only 2 wishes before the prophecy would finally be fulfilled were simple...
To destroy and bring ruination upon everything that exists for as much as he could, and to have a legendary, unforgettable duel with the Exalted One's chosen herald– after all, those who seek to avoid their fates often meet their destiny on the road they choose to avoid it, and it would be better for him to simply accept what was fated to be and enjoy everything he could do before the end comes.
Despite the endless rage that pumped within his draconic heart so ferociously, the scariest thing about him was not the terrible might he possessed, but the frightening wisdom he had that wasn't being clouded by his desires at all: in fact, it was the second reason why he had become the appointed leader among his fellow, equally mighty draconians, as his intelligence far surpassed even the greatest minds that humanity could ever conjure...
"Well then... Continue making the preparations we will need for our second advent. Our descent onto the earth may have been delayed, but our desire for destruction will be achieved inevitably..." The Lord of Rage proclaimed.
"The Exalted One's champion may stop us in the end, but he won't be able to save most of his kind from the destruction we will bring."