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

Grimz had spent sixteen years working tirelessly for this moment. He had lost friends and loved ones. He was displaced into a strange world. Now, he was standing at the entrance to what had once been the throne room of Blackthorn Keep, watching delegates stream through doors that had never before opened to anyone below the rank of noble advisor unless they were dragged here in chains to be judged by the Dark Lords or Ladies of the past. Looking at all these people passing him by, nobles and servants, Grimz felt the weight of every goblin generation that had died without seeing this day.

The transformation was remarkable and heartbreaking in equal measure. The ancient throne—that magnificent, terrible seat of Dark Lord authority that had witnessed centuries of goblin oppression—remained in the chamber, but no longer dominated it. Where once it had loomed above all other seating on its elevated dais, it now sat at ground level, repositioned as simply another seat in the ring of seats. A circular speaking platform had been erected at the center, surrounded by hastily arranged seating that placed every delegate, including whoever might occupy the throne, at an equal distance from the democratic heart of the chamber.

The acoustics, designed to amplify royal proclamations, now carried voices that had been forbidden to speak unless asked in these halls for millennia.

It reminded Grimz powerfully of that underground chamber from his revolutionary days, when he and his fellow exiles had built their first parliament in the Border Settlements. The same approach to seating, the same raised platform for speakers, the same sense of creating an egalitarian space in the authoritarian world. But those had been hidden underground caverns, meetings conducted in secrecy and fear.

This was Blackthorn Keep's throne room, transformed into a parliament by the very people who had once been forbidden to enter it—with the ancient seat of power itself forced to participate as an equal rather than rule from above.

The ancient stones seemed to vibrate with the cognitive dissonance of their new purpose. Tapestries depicting Nightshade victories had been replaced with charts showing resource allocation and community representation structures. The intimidating architecture remained, but now it served the greater good for all people rather than autocracy.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" came a voice beside him. Grimz turned to see Linna, his old comrade from the underground days, her graying hair now crowned with the simple circlet that marked her as representative of the goblins of the Borderlands.

"I keep thinking about that first parliament we built," Grimz replied quietly. "Hidden in mining caverns, afraid every moment that they'd find us. And now..."

"Now we're holding parliament in the throne room itself," Linna finished. "Though I have to admit, the symbolism is almost overwhelming. Every time I look at where that throne used to be, I remember how many of our people died never imagining this was possible. Remember, we stood here as well. Chained, but still hoping for a better future. Not yet knowing that seventeen of our friends will soon be executed."

"Lord Grimz," said a young kobold delegate, approaching with the confidence that probably came from newly manifested magic, "the mining representatives have prepared topographical analyses of the current resource distribution. We believe there are significant opportunities for extraction improvement and… shared benefits."

Lord Grimz. The title still felt surreal. Not because he hadn't earned it—he'd led two rebellions and revolutionized goblin society through literacy—but because hearing the title spoken aloud by his peers rather than whispered in defiance against the oppressors made it real in a way that decades of struggle hadn't.

"Excellent work," he replied, adjusting his formal robes. Mo planned to arrive here in her usual Earth T-shirt with another demonic musical collective pasted on her chest. But Nyx had insisted on proper parliamentary dress. And while there was a short debate in the beginning, Grimz had discovered that dignity fit him and his colleagues better than rebellion ever had. "Have you coordinated with the brownie architectural collective?"

"Yes, Lord Grimz. They've provided all the necessary data. We are ready to report."

Grimz nodded, suppressing a grin. Yesterday, inter-species cooperation had required careful negotiation and mutual suspicion. One was never sure if the contact hadn't been initiated by the Dark Lord's security agents. Today, shared status and these new magical abilities were creating natural partnerships that bypassed centuries of social conditioning.

Mo's reforms, and now this magical System's expansion, hadn't just covered the people's basic needs—it had given them the tools to build the society they'd always deserved.

"My Lord," interrupted a goblin aide, practically vibrating with nervous energy, "the chants are ready. Seventeen variations, as requested. Though the third chorus of 'Democratic Integration' has gotten rather... elaborate."

Grimz winced. He'd known that asking the goblin delegates to prepare celebratory chants was a risk, but revolutionary enthusiasm had to go somewhere. Better organized political theater than spontaneous outbursts.

"How elaborate?"

"Well, they've incorporated harmonies. And choreographed movements. And Tizrik figured out how to use his new illusion magic to project lyrics in the air."

"Seven Hells," Grimz muttered. "All of this is one of the first experiments in magical democracy, and my people are turning it into a musical production."

"Should I tell them to tone it down?"

Grimz looked through the chamber doors at his fellow goblins, who were clustered in intense discussion groups, their magical abilities manifesting as they were talking and laughing. These were people who had spent their entire lives being told to be quiet, be invisible, be grateful for scraps. Today, they were equal participants in governing their world and designing their own futures.

"No," he said firmly. "Let them celebrate. They've earned it."

The aide scurried away, and Grimz took a moment to appreciate the historical magnitude of what was about to unfold. A Nightshade heir—descendant of the very lords who had executed millions of goblins for demanding basic rights—was the one delivering the freedom his ancestors had died fighting for. And it wasn't even under the pressure of rebellion, she seemed to want to do that since her childhood. History had a sense of humor, even if it took centuries to deliver the punchline.

"Grimz," came Mo's voice behind him. She approached wearing the formal robes of Dark Lady. However, from under the folds, the same T-shirt Grimz had initially expected to see was showing its angular text and wild faces. Grimz smiled at the persistence of his Dark Lady. In so many aspects, she hadn't changed since the first time he saw her in the lower levels of Blackthorn Keep. Sixteen years ago, she was only three, and he was quite young as well.

"My Lady," he said, bowing formally. She always corrected him, demanded that he called her Mo. But that wasn't the moment. Now, maintaining proper protocol felt important. This was history, and history deserved dignity.

"How are they?" she asked, gesturing toward the chamber.

"Revolutionary," he replied honestly. "But disciplined. They understand what this means, not just for them but for everyone who comes after."

Mo looked through the doors at the assembled delegates, her expression mixing pride with something that might have been apprehension. "Grimz, what if we're moving too fast? Traditional demon lords are going to see this as an existential threat to everything they've built their power on."

Grimz followed her gaze, watching a brownie engineer explaining collaborative construction techniques to a group of kobold miners while goblin administrators took notes with magical quills that recorded thoughts directly onto parchment.

"My Lady," he said quietly, "with respect, traditional demon lords should be threatened. Look at what your people have accomplished in these past months. And how much more was done since the manifestation of the magical System. Just a few days with magical abilities and fair participation. Now imagine what they'll build in a few months. Or a few years!"

Mo's mouth quirked upward. "That's either reassuring or terrifying."

"Both," Grimz agreed. "But we crossed the point of no return when the System reached our realm. And if I'm not mistaken, you had something to do with it, didn't you? The question now isn't whether to embrace change, but whether to guide it or let it happen without direction. The dark lords will protest. They may even declare a war or two. But I know my people. We are ready to do whatever it takes to protect what we achieved together."

Through the chamber doors, he could hear the low rumble of his fellow goblins practicing their celebratory chants. The sound carried undertones of revolutionary fervor that would have sent previous Dark Lords reaching for execution orders.

"What is that, Grimz?" Mo asked him.

"Don't worry, my Lady. It's a surprise."

Today, it wasn't the sound of the ocean tide of rebellion coming to demolish the authoritarian rule. Today, it was the sound of democracy preparing to announce itself to the multiverse.

"Are you ready, my Lady?"

Mo straightened her shoulders, and for a moment Grimz saw not the uncertain young woman who'd returned home from a rebellion of her own just a few months ago. It was a teenage rebellion, not a matter of life and death, but somehow, Grimz knew it was very much important for all of them. Mo shifted, changed her posture, and now it wasn't just a succubus girl, but the leader who had already transformed her empire much more in mere months than most rulers managed in their lifetimes.

"Let's make some history," she said.

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***

The moment Mo entered the chamber, Grimz felt the energy shift. Conversations quieted, magical displays stabilized, and hundreds of eyes focused on their Dark Lady with expressions ranging from hope to revolutionary fervor.

Grimz positioned himself near the front, where he could observe both Mo's presentation and the delegates' responses. As head of the Shadow Council and architect of the goblin political organization, he needed to gauge how well their carefully planned framework worked with the reality of enthusiastic mass participation. Especially since democratized magic was now a factor.

"Members of Parliament," Mo began, her voice carrying clearly across the chamber, "thank you for gathering on such short notice. I know many of you are still processing the magical changes that have affected our territory—and territories across multiple realms—over the past few days."

A goblin near Grimz raised his hand immediately. "My Lady! Is it true that every goblin will receive magical abilities?"

Grimz suppressed a smile. Tizrik had been asking that question every hour since manifesting his illusion magic yesterday. The goblins had appointed him their unofficial spokesperson primarily because his new abilities allowed him to project his voice to fill any space.

"I can't confirm that every goblin will get them," Mo replied carefully. "Or every representative of other races. We just don't have enough information about the workings of the System. But I have a hunch that it will continue spreading wide and fast, manifesting across all our communities in unprecedented ways. Which brings us to why we're here today."

Grimz watched the delegates' faces, noting the mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. These people had spent lifetimes being excluded from political processes and magical context, unless they were hexed or cursed by the lords. The concept of actually participating in governance was still revolutionary enough to feel dangerous.

"The magical System that began spreading from the human worlds has reached our realm," Mo continued. "Many of you now possess abilities that were previously restricted to the nobility. This System is transforming not just individual capabilities, but the fundamental nature of how our society can operate."

A brownie delegate—Patches, if Grimz remembered correctly, who'd been managing Keep maintenance until just recently—stood up with newfound confidence.

Grimz winced. It was all getting too disorganized. The delegates didn't want to speak in order. They wanted a debate. While that was something he was used to in the times of the goblin Parliament, it may not be the best way to have a discussion here, with the Dark Lady present.

However, Mo smiled and prompted the delegate to ask her question with a broad smile.

"Dark Lady, our architectural collective has run the numbers. Current resource allocation systems contain inefficiencies that could be resolved through better operational mechanisms. I'm sure we can increase both the efficiency and happiness of the laborers with some smart tweaks and profit sharing."

"Exactly," Mo said, and Grimz could see her quickly adjusting to the reality that her audience was even more prepared than anyone had anticipated. "Which is why I'm proposing we fully integrate the new magical System with what we're calling the Democratic Enhancement Via Inclusive Opportunities Underpinning Success framework—the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. system—as our official approach to governing in this new magical reality."

Grimz felt a moment of admiration for Mo's political sense. The original framework name—Deceptive Exploitation Via Illusory Opportunities Underpinning Servitude—had been designed to appeal to traditional demon lords while hiding progressive reforms. But speaking to citizens who were now equals rather than servants, she could present the same policies with their true intentions clearly stated.

The chamber erupted in coordinated celebration.

"D.E.V.I.O.U.S. FRAMEWORK! MAGICAL SYSTEM!" came the chant from Tizrik's section. "DEMOCRATIC TEAMWORK! FREEDOM'S WISDOM!"

Grimz watched with fascination as the chants deployed across the chamber. However, even he was surprised as quite soon, instead of simply repeating prepared slogans, the delegates began improvising, building on the basic chants to create new variations in real-time.

"REPRESENTATION! NOT EXPLOITATION!" another group picked up. "D.E.V.I.O.U.S. NATION FOR COMPLETE LIBERATION!"

This was beyond what Tizrik had reported. The goblins weren't just celebrating—they were collaboratively composing the anthem of their own liberation.

"D.E.V.I.O.U.S. FOUNDATION! DEMOCRATIC NATION!"

Mo held up her hands, trying to regain control, but Grimz could see she was smiling while fighting a losing battle. Democratic enthusiasm, once unleashed, apparently followed its own momentum.

"…the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. system provides structured pathways for community input on resource allocation, magical ability development, support for everyone, education, and economic planning," Mo continued, raising her voice over the increasingly enthusiastic crowd. "The magical System spreading across our realm means every community can have a much better quality of life."

"EVERY COMMUNITY! EVERY VOICE!" The chant was getting stronger, more complex. "DEMOCRATIC FUTURE! PEOPLE'S CHOICE!"

After fighting a bit more with his concerns for order and following the procedure, Grimz succumbed to an overwhelming feeling of pride watching his people transform Mo's policy presentation into collaborative political theater. He was glad that Mo seemed to understand that as well and actively participated in the process. All of Gimz's concerns and fears about this day evaporated in a heartbeat. This was what happened when you gave naturally creative, intelligent beings the tools and permission to participate in their own governance.

The kobold representative stood again, his earth-sensing abilities projecting detailed three-dimensional maps above his seat. "My Lady, mineral extraction efficiency already rose with the recent educational initiatives and the introduction of social and medical services to the population. It is truly an innovative approach to treat injured workers instead of disposing of them and waiting for the new young workers to learn the trade. But I'm sure the output can be improved even more, both with the use of new magic and additional incentives like the ones mentioned by Representative Patches. Not even mentioning that the current system wastes resources through hierarchical communication delays."

"D.E.V.I.O.U.S. RISING! NO MORE CRYING!" the goblins immediately responded. "DEMOCRATIC MINING! POWER DEFINING!"

The process flowed like a stream now. Every policy point Mo raised was being immediately processed by the audience, analyzed, discussed, and incorporated into the general framework.

"Furthermore," Mo continued, "the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. system strategically includes provisions for any ability development and skills training. That includes magic. Economic advancement opportunities for all residents regardless of species or background are also a focal point of the framework. The System's expansion means these opportunities are only becoming more accessible—they're becoming reality as we speak."

The chamber exploded into pure organizational chaos.

"SKILLS TRAINING! NEVER COMPLAINING!"

"D.E.V.I.O.U.S. ENHANCEMENT! DEMOCRATIC ADVANCEMENT!"

"ALL SPECIES EQUAL! D.E.V.I.O.U.S. SEQUEL!"

Grimz watched magical displays erupt throughout the chamber as every community chose a representative with magical illusion skills, and they started projecting their visions of democratic participation, illustrating the chants they were shouting. This Parliament session was quickly turning into the best carnival Grimz has ever had a chance to experience. His fellow goblins created glowing organizational charts showing committee structures. The brownies constructed architectural models of community centers. Kobolds generated topographical maps of resource distribution networks.

"Lord Grimz," whispered his aide, appearing at his elbow, "I think we may have underestimated the enthusiasm levels."

"No," Grimz replied, "I think we estimated them exactly right. This is what democracy looks like when it's practiced by people who've been denied it their entire lives. By people who finally celebrate their lives and freedoms."

Mo was no longer giving a political speech. She was conducting a massive collaborative composition session for the future of their society, with every delegate contributing their expertise, abilities, and revolutionary fervor to the collective vision.

"The implementation ," Mo shouted out over the coordinated chanting, "will begin immediately with the establishment of community representation councils…"

"COMMUNITY POWER! IMPLEMENTATION RIGHT NOW! THIS IS OUR HOUR!"

"REPRESENTATION COUNCILS! DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES! PEOPLE'S PARTICIPATION! FREEDOM'S INVINCIBLE!"

A bugbear delegate raised a massive hand. "My Lady! The collective suggests implementing rotating leadership structures with equal representation across all magical ability categories!"

"MAGICAL "EQUAL REPRESENTATION! ROTATING POWER!" the chamber immediately responded. "DEMOCRATIC NATION! LIBERATION'S HOUR!"

Grimz felt something shift in the magical atmosphere of the chamber. The collaborative energy that had been building throughout the speech was focusing, crystallizing into something unprecedented. Even without the powers of Dr. Foster that Mo brought with her from Earth, he could sense the System changing the fabric of this world. But not only that, it was spreading from that location of concentrated magical effort even beyond the magical boundaries of this realm, to the other planes of Mo's empire and even further away.

"Community-based education systems!" added one of his goblin colleagues. "We need to build upon what we already have! With skills training integrated into magical development programs!"

"COMMUNITY EDUCATION! MAGICAL INTEGRATION!"

Golden threads of light began appearing between delegates, connecting them in a three-dimensional network that mapped the democratic relationships Mo had outlined. Each person's magical signature contributed to the growing structure, building a literal representation of collaborative governance that hung suspended above the chamber.

What was just a fleeting feeling moments ago was now visibly manifesting. Grimz stared at it, recognizing what was happening even as his mind struggled to process the implications.

His people weren't just agreeing to Mo's proposal. They were collectively creating a new form of magical governance into existence through shared will and synchronized intention.

"Citizens of Blackthorn Keep," Mo called out, her voice carrying clearly across the magically charged chamber, "I present to you the Democratic Enhancement Via Inclusive Opportunities Underpinning Success framework—the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. system—as our official approach to building a future where every voice matters, every ability is valued, and every citizen has the opportunity to contribute to our collective prosperity!" She looked at Grimz and, with a gesture, asked him to approach. And he understood the gesture. That was his moment as well.

The response to Mo's last comment shook the foundations of the Keep itself.

"D.E.V.I.O.U.S. SYSTEM! EVERY VOICE! EVERY ABILITY! EVERY CHOICE!"

"COLLECTIVE PROSPERITY! MAGICAL SECURITY!"

Grimz moved through the chamber toward Mo almost in a daze. Representatives reached out to clasp his hands as he passed—goblins, brownies, kobolds, bugbears—all congratulating him, their eyes filled with awe as they gazed up at the golden magical spectacle overhead.

As he approached the throne, still overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they had created together, Grimz placed his hand on the ancient armrest for support. An act that he would never even consider before.

Arrrgh… Pathetic… came the throne's mental grumble, like grinding stone and splintered timber. Grimz flinched, but before he removed his hand, the throne continued. The little revolutionary finally made it to my level. Literally. How... darkly deceptive.

Grimz startled and looked at Mo, checking if she was in the loop of this communication. But she was still giving the final points of her speech.

I must admit, the voice continued with a grudging acknowledgment, in all my centuries of witnessing Dark Lord proclamations, none have managed to so thoroughly subvert the very foundations of demonic authority while sitting in the same room as me. Impressive, in a completely undignified sort of way.

Finally, Mo finished talking, looked at Grimz with a knowing smile, and winked.

Two of you touching me at the same time, the throne complained. It was enough when that small brat did that while sitting on the knees of her father. This is precisely the sort of indignity I always wanted to avoid.

A chant finally distracted Grimz from the old chair's grumbling: "D.E.V.I.O.U.S. FRAMWORK! MAGICAL NETWORK! PEOPLE'S POWER! DEMOCRACY'S HOUR!"

They had wanted political representation.

But somehow they've gotten so much more. Something they weren't even able to figure out yet. But it felt like it was the beginning of something powerful.

As head of the Shadow Council and architect of this historic moment, Grimz realized that his role had fundamentally changed. He was no longer leading a rebellion against traditional authority.

He was now a founding father of the first magical democracy in dimensional history.

The revolution had evolved.

And it was magnificent.