The Dark Lady's Guide to Villainy [Book 1 Complete] [Dark Lord, School, Romance]

The next morning found Mo in her study before dawn, surrounded by parchments and ledgers that painted a picture of an empire expanding faster than she'd ever imagined possible—not through conquest or magical coercion, but through economic innovation that was beginning to reshape power structures across multiple realms.

Grimz sat across from Mo in a comfortable armchair, a stack of enchanted charts in his hands glowing with economic projections that would have made Earth's Fortune 500 companies weep with envy. As he spoke, shimmering numbers began materializing in the air above the parchments—shimmering calculations that responded to his thoughts like an extension of his analytical mind. The magical ability had manifested three days ago during the Integration of the human worlds, transforming years of leadership into something that transcended traditional goblin limitations.

"It was a great idea to create a coffee plantation in Pocket Dimension 7-Alpha. It continues to exceed all expectations, my Lady," Grimz reported with barely contained excitement. "The demonic soil properties—high sulfur content, ambient magical radiation, and that peculiar temporal dilation effect—are producing beans with flavor profiles that our interdimensional sommelier describes as 'transcendent.' The projected harvest yields are up four hundred percent compared to terrestrial samples."

Mo scrolled through the production reports, noting the astronomical profit margins. "And sales to other realms? Also, what is it with 'my Lady,' Grimz? You were perfectly fine calling me Mo fifteen years ago."

"I was, my Lady. And where it led us? To the Alphabet Revolution and other… events…"

"I think the final results were quite alright, wouldn't you say?"

"They were. Indeed, they were. Anyway, my Lady… Mo. For now, we run sales solely based on our Earth partners' capabilities, as you specified. Which are obviously limited by the portal transportation and restrictions of the embargo. However, that's exactly what drives demand beyond our wildest projections. Add to that all those rumors about magic manifesting in human worlds..." Grimz's grin was predatory with satisfaction. "A single cup now sells for about fifteen Copper Slivers in the Fae Courts. In the Dragon Territories, we're charging closer to thirty-six Copper Slivers."

Emily chose that moment to enter with a steaming cup of coffee, flushed cheeks, and what appeared to be a comprehensive apology prepared in bullet points. She caught the tail end of Grimz's economic report and looked puzzled.

"That doesn't sound like very much," she said, setting down her coffee carefully.

"Well," Grimz said with the casual air of someone dropping a conversational bomb, "one Soul Sliver equals approximately two hundred fifty British Pounds. Which makes a Copper Sliver two and a half Pounds. Mind you, that's just the preliminary exchange rate the British government calculated—most other Earth authorities haven't even started currency exchange negotiations yet."

Grimz paused for a moment, looked at Emily, and inhaled deeply through his nose, his expression shifting to that of a connoisseur evaluating a fine aroma. "Actually," he said with obvious relish, "that particular blend retails at approximately one Soul Sliver in the premium markets. Which means you're currently cradling about a third of what the average goblin earns in a week. Fascinating economic insight into our lives, really—though perhaps you might consider shaking hands next time instead of bestowing royal kisses."

"Grimz," Mo interjected with mild reproach, "while your commentary is noted, Dr. Foster is our guest. And yesterday, she was operating under the influence of consecutive portal displacements."

Emily's face shifted through a spectrum of colors as she processed both the staggering economics of interdimensional commerce and the pointed reminder of her uninhibited behavior.

Grimz issued a cough that sounded a bit strained and returned to his reporting. "The surge of interest in human-related commodities stems from widespread rumors about an entire species—humans—suddenly developing magical abilities after millennia without them. For interdimensional entities, it's like watching a primitive civilization discover fire, except the fire is magic and the whole multiverse is paying attention," he continued, seemingly satisfied with his gentle ribbing for now. "Additionally, regarding Earth technology—the specialized research division you commissioned has achieved preliminary breakthroughs in what they term 'magitech integration.' Human devices demonstrate remarkable compatibility with controlled magical enhancement. We may be examining an entirely novel market sector once embargo restrictions lift."

"Let's focus on immediate priorities, Grimz," Mo said, swiftly glancing at Emily. "What about the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. framework licensing?"

Grimz's expression brightened with the particular satisfaction of someone delivering excellent news wrapped in clever maneuvering. "Ah, the beauty of your bureaucratic innovation, Mo. As you planned, the licensing fees are embedded within improved wage structures for affected servant populations—goblins, bugbears, and their related communities. The demon lords believe they're making their workforce to shoulder the financial burden."

His grin turned distinctly predatory. "What they've actually accomplished is funding fair wages and political representation for populations they've exploited for centuries—while believing they're maintaining traditional power structures. It's a progressive revolution disguised as conservative economics, and the irony is absolutely exquisite."

"And the numbers?" Mo prompted.

"Point-zero-zero-one Soul Sliver per individual per month—or one-tenth of a Copper Sliver, if you prefer. With just the first three Houses implementing the framework, we are going to generate over one million Soul Slivers in the first month of operations." The floating numbers rearranged themselves into a three-dimensional chart showing projected growth curves as Grimz paused, clearly illustrating the numbers for Emily's benefit. "That translates to approximately two hundred fifty million pounds per month in your currency, Dr. Foster."

Emily's eyebrows shot toward her hairline.

"Though perhaps most remarkably," Grimz continued with evident pride, "this revenue stream already represents one percent of the empire's total income. Not our largest source, certainly, but rapidly becoming impossible to ignore."

The general state of both financial and emotional overwhelm was written all over Dr. Foster's face. She remained silent since the earlier Grimz's barb, clearly processing the implications of both interdimensional economics and her own recent conduct.

When she finally spoke, the words rushed out of her like a waterfall. "I must apologize profusely for yesterday's behavior," she began, placing the apparently precious coffee aside with exaggerated care. "Portal aftereffects apparently include temporary dissolution of professional boundaries and wholly inappropriate curiosity regarding supernatural capabilities that could reasonably constitute workplace harassment."

Grimz shifted uncomfortably, his ears flattening slightly as he recognized the conversation's trajectory toward personal matters. "My Lady, perhaps I should return with the remaining operational reports at a more appropriate time?"

"Sure, Grimz. Thank you. Appreciate all you do here at Blackthorn Keep. See you later."

Mo gestured for Emily to take a seat. "What's your age, Emily?"

"Thirty-two. Why?"

"Well, first, there's a significant age imbalance here. I'm nineteen, which makes your interest somewhat problematic regardless of portal influence." Mo set down her reports and fixed Emily with a direct look. "Second, there's a power imbalance—I'm technically your boss now, which creates additional complications. And third, succubus abilities aren't party tricks for satisfying scientific curiosity."

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Emily's face cycled through several shades of red. "You're absolutely right. That was completely inappropriate, and I…"

"However," Mo interrupted gently, allowing a small amount of rose-gold energy to flow toward Emily—not influencing, just soothing, "portal displacement is genuinely disorienting for species without magical heritage—and most of the humans have never experienced it before this week. Seven Hells, even I feel the aftereffects from interdimensional jumps, and I've been doing this since childhood. I should have anticipated how it would affect someone whose consciousness had never been scattered across multiple planes."

Mo's energy reached Emily like a warm breeze, easing her embarrassment without completely overriding it.

"Oh," Emily said, blinking as her mind settled into sharper focus. "That's... actually quite pleasant. And remarkably precise."

"Emotional calibration," Mo explained. "One of the less dramatic applications. Think of it as magical therapy rather than mystical seduction."

"Noted. And filed under 'phenomena that require extensive ethical frameworks before further study.' Though I have to ask—is that level of precision typical for succubus abilities?"

"Not even remotely," Mo said. "Most of my ancestors were significantly less concerned with consent and emotional wellbeing. They would blanket influence whole populations to achieve their goals. That... that was one of the main reasons I ran away a few years ago. I just couldn't bear the pressure."

"So, and I just have to ask. You mentioned a couple of power imbalances."

"Yes. Why?"

"Any chance they will negate each other?"

***

Instead of answering the question directly, Mo led Emily through the winding corridors of Blackthorn Keep to its ancient heart—the Ritual Chamber, where the Keep's power had been focused for centuries. The room thrummed with accumulated magical energy, its walls carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift in peripheral vision.

"You asked about power imbalances," Mo said, gesturing to the imposing chamber around them. "It's difficult to negate being the head of the seventh largest demonic house across all planes of existence. This Chamber is one of the focal points of that power."

Emily's eyes immediately took on that golden glow as her magical skill engaged with the environment. But instead of the brief flicker Mo had expected, the glow intensified, and Emily's expression grew increasingly amazed.

"Mo," she breathed, "you are right! It's a nexus point. I can see the System's magical network spreading from here—using both the Chamber and you as focal points. It extends between the human worlds, through demonic realms..."

"What? That's not why I brought you here…"

Emily's voice trailed off as she concentrated deeper. "But there's something else here. Another presence in the Chamber. Something I can't quite identify."

Mo felt a chill that had nothing to do with the ancient stone. "Another presence?"

"It's... woven into the Chamber's foundations somehow. Like threads of different magical signatures braided together over centuries. I can feel the Chamber's ancient power, see the System's influence flowing through you like liquid starlight, but there's something else—another consciousness embedded in the stone itself, watching, waiting. A soul, if you want..."

"I'm not sure I want it there…"

But before Mo could elaborate, Grimz burst through the chamber doors without ceremony, his expression managing to convey excitement and exasperation simultaneously.

"My Lady," he said, clutching enchanted reports that glowed with urgent magical alerts, "we've got developments. Multiple developments. Possibly revolutionary developments."

"Revolutionary? Not again! I thought the reforms were working! What is it? Good developments or 'emergency session of Parliament' developments?"

"Both," Grimz said grimly. "Before your return, only a handful of goblins had manifested arcane abilities—myself included. But the morning reports... I didn't have them yet when I last talked to you…" He didn't even have to look at his parchment for the shimmering numbers to begin materializing above the document as his skill activated. "It's an avalanche. Every municipality is reporting non-magical populations suddenly developing abilities that seem to comply perfectly with what you told us about the human magical system. Goblins with administrative and crafting magic, brownies manifesting architectural engineering skills, even the kobold miners are developing earth-sensing abilities."

Mo stared at the magical manifestation. "Everyone?"

"Everyone. But here's the beautiful thing. You framework created a feedback loop between all levels of our society. There are no signs of dissent. People are just coming to the learning and community centers your parents established years ago after… hm… my previous revolt. They come to talk about the changes. They just need guidance!"

Emily leaned forward, connecting the dots. "That's not just expansion—that's fundamental transformation of the magic in this world."

"What do you mean?"

"Grimz said just a few goblins manifested magic when humans had the Integration event, right?" Emily asked.

"Yes, Dr. Foster, that's correct. Only I and a few people on the Shadow Council and among the leaders of the latest goblin revolt received magical skills a few days ago."

"And you were on Earth," Emily continued. "Where we established your and Valerius' connection with the System."

"Yes, so what?"

"Now you both came here, to your world, where the new magic has already begun manifesting. If only sporadically."

"You don't mean to say that by portalling here we triggered this new wave of Integration?" Mo asked, awe in her voice.

"That's the only logical conclusion," Emily said. Then, she closed her eyes and her face acquired that focused expression that people trying to hear the faintest sound may have. "Yes, I can see the strands originating from the Ritual Chamber and spreading all over this world. There's no doubt."

"Which brings me to the complicated part," Grimz said, stepping closer to the center of the Chamber. "You guessed right. The Parliament is demanding an emergency session. They want to declare the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. system the official foundation of the servant society and formally name you as the prophet of the perpetual Goblin Revolution. I'm sorry, my Lady. I know you don't like all that fluff."

Mo felt her stomach drop. "Perpetual Goblin Revolution? Can't we have some peace or whatever?"

"Apparently, I'm now considered the ideological successor to Grentaz the Wise, who led the first revolt a few centuries ago." Grimz's expression was complex—pride mixed with concern. "There were no practical results, really, besides a few million goblins being executed by one of your ancestors. Then, was my Alphabet Revolution, you know the history of that event. But the goblins know it too. All of them. They know who gave me that wooden block with the letter 'A.' They want to commission statues…"

"Oh Seven Hells," Mo said faintly. "Statues..."

"There's more. We've received formal requests for D.E.V.I.O.U.S. implementation from twenty-nine different demonic Houses, including three that have been feuding with us for decades. They demand a substantial discount to…" Grimz checked his notes. "Let me see… 'Forget about the old unpleasantness.' Word is spreading about the economic benefits and magical safeguards in the face of these new developments."

One of the parchments in Grimz's hands sparkled and chimed, almost like a mobile phone receiving a message.

"What's that? I thought we didn't have any magitech developed yet," Mo said.

"Oh, no. It isn't... We hadn't…" Grimz said, suddenly looking both shy and excited. "I just got through my first class evolution. Level 10, you know. I now get reports from my subordinates directly on whatever piece of parchment I hold in my hands."

The parchment continued to buzz with incoming messages. One report came. Then another. Then a rapid succession of alerts that suggested Grimz's newly updated skill may be overwhelmed soon.

Mo took the parchment from Grimz's hands and checked the numbers, her eyes widening at the scope of the events. Each implementation contract represented at least hundreds of souls. Some of the potential clients represented some of the top-10 houses, including... including at least one request bearing what definitely looked like a reproduction of a dragon's seal.

Mo gasped. "Grimz," she said slowly, "how much revenue are we looking at? And did we receive any messages from the High Council yet?"

"Conservative estimate? The D.E.V.I.O.U.S. licensing could become your second-largest income source within three months. And High Council? Not yet. But something tells me they wouldn't be too happy."

"Alright, one step at a time," Mo decided. "I've got an Academy report due that's actually important. And the High Council requested a copy, anyway. Hopefully, that will satiate their appetites, at least for some time. In the meantime, start drafting the contracts. You know the drill. I'll sign them when the paperwork is ready."

"Excellent. Parliament convenes in two hours, by the way. They're expecting a speech about the future of servant society."

"A speech."

"Nothing elaborate. Just your vision for how magical democratization will reshape power structures across multiple dimensions while ensuring worker protections and sustainable economic growth."

Mo looked at Emily. "Any chance you'd be interested in helping me write a speech about revolutionary economic policy?"

"That wasn't my major… But, you know, I decided to embrace whatever comes my way," Emily said. "Absolutely."

Another goblin stormed into the Chamber. "My Lady, my Lord." Then he looked at Emily. "my Lady…"

"Just spit it out," said Mo.

"Two guests just portalled in. Noble Obscuris and Frostbrook."

Mo felt her head spinning. Even if being in the middle of the wildest events was becoming a kind of her thing, it wasn't hard to get overwhelmed.

Mo grasped Emily's hand and started looking around for things that would help her anchor herself to reality with the 5-4-3-2-1 grounding technique.

If the family patriarchs had come personally instead of sending messages, it meant the situation had escalated beyond the realm of diplomatic correspondence.

"The older ones or the younger ones?"