Custom Made Demon Queen: "Why am I a white imp?!"

[Note: This is a longer version of the synopsis with extra added details...]

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As the dry and wrinkled woman swayed gently in her rocking chair, a bittersweet melody escaped her lips, carrying with it the echoes of a life lived in solitude. From the vantage point of her rural villa, nestled amidst the majestic mountains, she gazed upon a vista of unparalleled beauty, a testament to the passage of time and the enduring resilience of nature...

In her youth, she had been a beacon of ambition and determination, tirelessly striving to provide for her beloved family. With unwavering resolve, she had toiled day and night, juggling her studies with a myriad of odd jobs, all in pursuit of a brighter future for those she held dear. And she succeeded in ways both tangible and intangible.

Her sacrifices had paved the way for her siblings to flourish, affording them opportunities for education, love, and prosperity. Her parents had basked in the glow of her achievements, their lives enriched by the fruits of her labor. Yet, in her single-minded pursuit of her goals, she had overlooked the simple joys of life, the fleeting moments of happiness that slipped through her grasp like grains of sand.

Now, as she sat weathered and worn, her once-lustrous dark hair had now faded to a silvery white, her skin etched with the passage of time, she found herself grappling with the cruel irony of her existence. The years had flown by in a blur of selflessness and sacrifice, leaving her with little more than memories and regrets.

In her old age, there were no longer family members to call her own, no parents to offer guidance or solace in her twilight years. Instead, she was encircled by distant relatives, their eyes alight with a hunger for her wealth, eagerly anticipating the moment of her passing to claim their share of her legacy. But even as they circled like vultures, she knew that her true wealth lay not in material possessions, but in the intangible treasures of love and companionship—something she knew she did not have...

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"If only..." the old woman mumbled weakly as she pondered what she could have changed in the past...

"How old was I again...? Ninety... maybe more... I couldn't really remember anymore..." the lady thought to herself, her voice a whisper carried on the wings of time. It seemed that even time itself had been making a dent, eroding the once-firm foundations of her memories and leaving behind a hazy tapestry of forgotten moments and fleeting glimpses of the past.

Then suddenly, the old woman laughed as if reminiscing about something, her eyes alight with the warmth of cherished memories. "That's right... I remember something me and my brothers used to watch..." she began, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "It was a show that started with a middle-aged man on the brink of death complaining about how he died a virgin, that at thirty they were to be called a Sage, and at forty a Great Sage..." she recalled, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I have lived over nine decades in celibacy, I wonder what that makes me..." she thought, her laughter echoing through the quiet solitude of her villa.

After a short moment of reflection, she mused to herself jokingly, "Perhaps an Evil God~" The words hung in the air, a lighthearted jest amidst the weight of her years, a fleeting glimpse of humor in the face of the unknown.

Yet, beneath the surface of her jest, her heart, weary from a lifetime of striving, ached with the weight of loneliness, a hollow ache that no amount of riches could fill. And so, she sat in the silence of her villa, surrounded by the echoes of her past and the empty promises of her future.

With each passing moment, she felt the tendrils of regret tighten around her, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices she had made in pursuit of a dream that now lay hollow and unfulfilled. But amidst the solitude of her twilight years, a flicker of hope still burned within her heart.

As she gazed out at the breathtaking sight before her, she found solace in the beauty that surrounded her, a reminder of the enduring power of nature to heal and rejuvenate even the most weary soul. And so, with each gentle sway of her rocking chair, she hummed a lonely tune, a silent tribute to a life well-lived and the timeless beauty of the world around her.

For in the quiet serenity of her rural villa, she found a fleeting glimpse of peace amidst the tumult of her regrets, a moment of clarity amidst the haze of her memories...

The old woman gazed up at the celestial display as if it were her last, her eyes tracing the constellations with a sense of wonder and reverence. The cold winds brushed against her weathered skin, carrying with them a haunting melody that seemed to whisper her name—'Eve...'—in a hypnotic chorus of voices.

But the old lady simply smiled, a serene expression gracing her weathered features as she continued to rock gently in her chair. The stars reflected in her eyes, twinkling in silent communion with her soul. Slowly, the light in her eyes began to dim, like fading embers relinquishing their final glow to the darkness. Yet, the slight smile upon her lips never faltered, a silent testament to a life well-lived and a heart at peace.

And then, with a soft sigh that melted into the night, she drew her last breath, her spirit departing with the grace of a falling star, leaving behind only memories and the quiet serenity of the rural villa she had called home...