No one was there. The throne room "Void Palace"——a grand hall with a fifteen-meter ceiling, wrapped in complete silence. Zaagu sat back on his throne. The cape draped across his jet-black armor's shoulders swept quietly across the stone floor. Golden eyes scanned the empty seats before him like a predator. Perfectly proportioned, muscular frame. One meter ninety tall. The demon lord's crest floating on his forehead. Ancient characters carved into both arms——all of it, in this moment, unseen by anyone. With his long black hair tied back, Zaagu crossed his arms. He checked the clock. Then checked it again. Then checked it again. "……" Spread across the desk like a fan: a 120-page handwritten document with diagrams. A blackboard with color-coded invasion routes. A water pitcher for guests, ice still floating in it. Was there any better preparation for unveiling a world conquest plan refined over 800 years? No. There wasn't. It was perfect. Perfect from every angle. The only proble