Alex took nearly an hour to cover the distance to the palace, moving without hurry, taking in everything the city offered to a careful observer.

The palace grew larger with every street Alex crossed, until the smaller towers and domed estates around it appeared no different than ornaments built at its feet.

A wide ceremonial road led toward its outer gates, lined with banners of deep crimson and black, each carrying the same crowned horned emblem that marked the House of Ahrimon.

Carriages moved steadily along the road, some pulled by enormous beasts and others floating inches above the ground under the power of engraved formations.

Demons dressed in ornate robes walked in groups, their conversation filled with laughter, curiosity, and open excitement. Tonight, the palace was not the home of the Demon King; it was the center of the greatest celebration seen in the last decade.

Alex stopped in the shadow of a tall building and looked at the castle in silence. His cloak moved gently behind him for a moment before dissolving into darkness that wrapped around his body, reforming into a coal-black tailcoat and matching trousers, elegant without being excessive.

White embroidery spread across the lapels, twisting into a fine design of a soaring bird of mythical nature, its form diving and sinking deeper into the dark clots. His boots became clean and polished, his gloves thinner, and a small silver chain settled across the front of his coat.

"This brings back memories," Alex said with a faint smile, his eyes barely hiding the sadness the memory evoked, just as much as the happiness it brought.

Darkness gathered lightly around the sides of his head, forming a pair of smooth black horns curving backward through his hair. His features did not change much, only enough to appear slightly sharper and more in line with the demons around him.

There was no reason to become someone memorable when being unremarkable was far more convenient.

Alex stepped into the flow of guests heading toward the palace gates, no one paying any attention to his sudden appearance.

At the same time, his eyes changed.

The vast palace before him ceased to be a closed structure of stone, formations, guards, and walls. Layers opened before his sight with little effort.

He saw the mana flowing through the bridges connecting the palace towers, the hidden defensive formations buried inside the black obsidian, the concealed guards stationed above the celebration halls, and the stronger presences sitting deeper within the central palace.

His gaze swept through everything without brushing against the wards protecting them. There was no intrusion, his eyes simply saw through what existed, with few beings capable of hiding their secrets.

It took him less than a breath to locate Rongradin.

The Demon Prince was three levels above the central celebration hall, inside a private chamber covered by several formations. He stood before a large mirror while attendants finished adjusting the ceremonial robes covering his body.

Two powerful guards stood openly near the doors, while another four concealed themselves within the walls and connected side chambers.

On Rongradin’s right hand was a dark ring.

Even across the distance, surrounded by royal wards and the heavy presence of the palace, Alex recognized the faint and familiar ancient pulse moving through it. It was weak only because it was incomplete.

’There you are,’ Alex thought, his smile becoming a little deeper at the sight of the Archaic Ring.

For years, the second half of the Ancient Red Gem had been held by a prince who understood little about what he possessed. Alex had once feared the idea of crossing half the world to even approach it, let alone take it from under the demon king’s nose.

Now, the palace containing the ring stood open before his eyes, and the only question was how he wished to take it.

He could reach Rongradin in a moment. The shadows inside the prince’s chamber were more than enough for him to appear behind him, take the ring... His life if he wanted... and leave before any of the guards understood what had happened.

If he cared only about the artifact, there was no reason to waste even a minute, but he had not come only for the ring.

Alex stepped forward as the line moved toward the palace entrance. The gates were tall enough for giants to walk beneath them without lowering their heads. Guards in dark silver armor stood at both sides, their strength far beyond what even major cities would have as their lords.

Above them, invisible formations spread through the gate in layered threads, checking invitations, identities, concealed weapons, bloodlines, and traces of hostile intent.

For most people, entering without being invited would have been impossible.

For Alex, the only difficult part was deciding how much effort he wanted to put into making it look proper.

A thin strand of Error left him silently and settled into the flow of one of the invitation formations. He did not break it or force it to overlook him, because that would have been crude.

Instead, the formation simply found what it expected to find: a name buried near the bottom of a long guest list, belonging to a minor noble house from a distant territory, invited due to their contribution in the ongoing war.

When Alex reached the gate, one of the guards briefly looked at him. His gaze moved over the horns, the refined clothing, the ceremonial chain at his chest, as the formation whispered the knowledge of his information now accepted as real into his mind.

"Lord Aven of House Vael," the guard said, lowering his head slightly. "Welcome to the royal celebration."

Alex looked at him for a moment before nodding. "Thank you." He walked through the gates without hurry.

Music reached him the moment he entered the palace, coming from dozens of locations, ballrooms and balconies, private chambers and halls, being performed live in all its forms by the best in their craft.

The palace interior was even more extravagant than the city outside, filled with enormous open halls, indoor gardens, shallow pools reflecting silver fire, and balconies overlooking the central river running beneath parts of the castle itself.

Servants in their hundreds moved everywhere with trays of wine and food, while nobles laughed and gathered in shifting groups.

Alex took a glass of dark red wine from a passing tray and examined it as he walked. The scent was stronger than anything made in the human continent, mixed with a faint burning spice that would probably have left most humans coughing after a single sip.

He took a sip.

"Not bad," he muttered.

A nearby demon woman glanced at him, seemingly amused by how casually he had judged one of the palace wines, but Alex had already moved on.

His eyes continued to drift through the palace while his steps followed the rhythm of the crowd, taking him through the public celebration halls toward one of the upper gathering areas.

Rongradin’s preparation will take time, though the number of servants working to prepare him made it clear that his official appearance would happen soon.

Alex had plenty of time.

He could have walked directly toward the royal wing and made everyone forget they had seen him. He could have silenced his very presence, making it impossible for any eye or formation to see him, and moved through the palace like a thought no one could remember having.

But such a disturbance was sure to be noticed by the being on watch duty. Alex didn’t want to be caught, simply because it would cause too much trouble.

’Besides,’ Alex thought, looking around the grand hall, ’that would ruin the fun.’

He turned into a side corridor into an area reserved for high nobles. The darkness beneath his coat moved again, flowing quietly across his clothes.

Within a few steps, the expensive tailcoat had become the refined dark uniform of a senior palace coordinator, its collar edged with silver thread and a ceremonial badge settled neatly over his chest.

His horns remained the same, while his face changed just enough to appear older and far more tired, as if he had spent the entire day dealing with arrogant nobles and delayed preparations.

One of the servants coming towards him immediately lowered his head. "My lord, is there a problem with the northern balcony arrangement?"

Alex did not slow his steps. "The only problem is that half the guests are already drunk and the other half are trying to catch up," he replied calmly.

The servant hesitated, then gave a resigned nod as if that answer explained everything.

He moved through restricted corridors without interruption. Error, made the formations, finding nothing wrong with him.

The second restricted corridor led through a broad balcony overlooking one of the inner celebration halls. Music filled the air from below, joined by clapping and laughter.

A group of young demon nobles had taken over one side of the balcony, drinking freely while several couples danced on the polished black marble.

Alex intended to cross without giving them more than a glance. Then one of the noblemen lifted an empty cup in his direction.

"You there!" the demon called, his curved golden horns decorated with small hanging chains. "Bring another bottle over here. The servants have gone to hell."

Alex looked down at the badge over his chest, then at the group. Apparently, the senior palace coordinator and waiter looked the same once enough alcohol entered a noble’s blood.

A servant passing from the opposite direction carried a tray with several bottles. Alex extended a hand, and the young servant stopped looking at him with confusion, his gaze going from face to the badge and back to his face.

He finally gave him the tray, his eyes briefly glazing at the slightest touch of hypnosis before he turned and continued down the corridor with no concern for what he had just done.

Alex approached the group and placed a fresh bottle on their table.

"There," he said. "Your suffering has ended."

The golden-horned demon stared at him for half a second, then laughed loudly. "At least this one has a spine. Pour a glass for Lady Serevin as well. She has been complaining that no one in this palace understands proper service."

A demon woman reclining on the balcony raised her ornate glass. Her skin was a smooth shade of pale gray, and two narrow horns rose through her silver hair. She looked at Alex with amused crimson eyes.

Before he could hand it over, she moved the cup away.

"No," she said with a mischievous smile. "I have changed my mind. I only accept wine from servants who can dance."

The others laughed immediately, clearly expecting Alex to become uncomfortable or start apologizing.

Alex looked at the distant inner tower where Rongradin remained in his chamber. A servant had just entered carrying a ceremonial sash. The prince was still several minutes away from leaving.

Alex turned back to the woman.

"That seems reasonable," he said.

Before any of them understood what he meant, he placed the tray on the table, caught the lady by her hand, and dragged her into the open space, to the shock of her friends.

His right foot slid backward.

Then his entire body followed with it, moving smoothly across the black marble, pulling the stunned lady with him. His shoulders shifted with the movement, one hand settling on her back while the other moved out with effortless confidence.

He turned sharply, twirling the lady, and then slid backward again, perfectly calm throughout the performance.

The laughter around the table vanished for a breath. Then the entire group erupted.

"What in the abyss was that?" the golden-horned demon shouted, nearly spilling his wine as he rose from his chair.

Lady Serevin clapped with obvious delight, her eyes wide. "Again. We are doing that again."

Alex finished with a small turn and a polite bow before stepping to the table. He picked up the tray, offered her a wine glass, and smiled.

"I am afraid palace management requires my attention elsewhere."

"That is criminal," she declared. "Whoever put you in management needs their eyes checked. You belong on a stage for ladies like me to enjoy ourselves."

"I may appear on one before the night ends," Alex replied. The demons laughed again, taking it as another joke.