Meanwhile, in a small stone hall within the succubus district, two elders of the succubus tribe, Desdemona and Vespera, stood before Delilah, bowing respectfully with an air of humility.
"Your Majesty, what are your orders?"
Compared to Rockwell's proactive demeanor, Desdemona and Vespera seemed far more passive.
Delilah reclined on her throne, resting her chin on one hand, her half-lidded eyes lazily studying the two succubus elders before her. She knew their strength still had room for improvement, but their progress was hindered by the deeply ingrained conservatism of their tribe.
For years, whether it was foreign races, beasts, or dark creatures, the succubi had lived in fear, their cautious mindset holding them back.
"Desdemona, as an elder of the succubus tribe, you have the full support of our people when you need it."
As she spoke, Delilah casually tossed a pouch of dark source crystals onto the ground in front of Desdemona.