Astrid stood over the headless corpses, her golden hair soaked slightly with blood, a twisted smirk playing on her lips.
The screams had long since died down. Only whimpers remained — the muffled sounds of survivors clinging to the last strands of hope.
The Scale of Obedience hovered in front of her, its surface glowing faintly red as the magic pulsed in rhythmic beats... like a heart enjoying the suffering around it.
She turned slowly toward the village chief, the last one still breathing — barely. He was pinned to the ground by two spear-wielding men she’d already subdued with the artifact.
Her voice was sweet. Almost gentle.
"You know, I thought ruling would be boring." She knelt beside him, brushing aside the blood from his cheek. "But there’s something so... satisfying about watching people break."
The chief gritted his teeth. "You’re a demon..."
Astrid giggled. "I’ve been called worse."
She stood again and raised the scale. "Let’s see whose will is stronger, shall we?"
The golden scale floated between them. One side glowed red — Astrid’s side — already heavy with cruel dominance. The other side, representing the chief’s mana and resistance, flickered dimly... then cracked.
His body shuddered. Then, silence.
The chief bowed his head, eyes wide and empty.
Astrid leaned forward with a grin. "Now... tell your men. I’m your queen now. Every last one of you serves me — body and soul."
The controlled chief stood slowly and turned to the crowd of stunned bandits. "Kneel... to Astrid."
One by one, the bandits fell to their knees, hands trembling.
Astrid stretched with a yawn, spinning her spear casually. "Mmm. That was fun. Let’s see... what’s next?"
She looked toward the distant horizon. "Ah. The village of Windveil, wasn’t it? Where that Void boy was last seen?"
"Let’s pay them a visit. I feel like causing... chaos."