Three Divine Wishes: Yes, I'm OP!

At the attendant’s words, the Emperor didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he chuckled, as if the answer was so obvious it hardly needed saying.

The title "Emperor of Loria" was, in truth, a mask; for the last eighty thousand years, as had been mentioned, it had been nothing more than a careful disguise he donned while waiting with patience.

He was, in reality, the Smiling Supreme God, ruler of the Smiling Court Pantheon, and to the wider universe, they were not exactly... feared but instead, openly despised.

They bore the infamous crown of being the most detested humans ever to walk the cosmos.

They were Masked Humans—a variant of humanity inherently given to scheming.

Picture a race that exuded an otherworldly warmth and welcome, effortlessly forging bonds and earning trust, only to betray and backstab anyone outside their cause when the moment came.

They were the Smiling Court because they greeted everyone with charm and grace, and yet, behind that same graceful smile, they would cross anyone and go to any lengths to achieve their ends.

And that alone marked them as beings one should never become deeply entangled with.

"What does this mean for us?" he asked at last, and the smile that accompanied the words was the same practiced warmth that had given his court its reputation.

"Well, it means nothing. I already have an Empire doing what is needed, and within a year I will be closer to having control over that Star System."

The attendant nodded, brown eyes steady while she turned the practical edges of the revelation over in her mind.

"Shall I send any reinforcements to ensure the remaining steps proceed as planned?"

He declined with a small shake of his head; short brown hair caught a thin edge of light from the high slits.

"That’s not needed... Too many members of the Smiling Court in one place will only draw the attention I have spent millennia avoiding."

He rose from the throne, dark robes settling around him with a heavy rustle, and the cool of the stone floor reached him through his soles as he continued.

"The Supreme God of One Book has already been snooping around. So, it’s best if things remain as they are."

As he moved toward the doors, the distant murmur of the busy palace corridors leaked faintly through the walls.

"Continue monitoring our expansion and the collection of materials. We must find the Skull of a nine-headed death hydra."

"Yes, Your Majesty," she answered, the confirmation clean and immediate, her gaze following him until the heavy doors closed and cut the sound of the outer halls away again.

----

He stepped out of the dim throne room, and after a brief walk, the atmosphere shifted entirely—the warm, fragrant humidity of the open air replaced the palace’s cold, stony air.

He stood in a garden that opened beneath the black-and-blue radiance of the Smiling Court Star System like a deliberate pocket of beauty.

Flowers of deep indigo and pale silver spilled along ordered beds, their petals beaded with fine dew that caught the dim light.

Fountains sent thin arcs of water into the air as the droplets fell back into wide stone basins.

A smooth walkway of dark marble ran between the plantings, cool and faintly damp underfoot, until it ended at an open altar-like area framed by low columns and quiet space.

He strolled along the path at an easy pace, the sound of falling water fading with each step.

Upon reaching the open stone, he lifted one hand and touched the ring on his finger.

HUMM!!

Thud!!

In that moment, a woman appeared before the altar in a soft displacement.

She wore a blindfold that hid her eyes, and a black, glowing label pressed over her mouth, yet her beauty still radiated with a strange, almost dangerous allure.

There was something about her presence that carried the unmistakable air of a Death Siren—the subtle, lethal elegance in the curve of her neck, the unmoving stillness that seemed less like peace and more like a single, haunting note suspended in the air.

The dim garden light lay across her face and the dark fall of her hair.

The Smiling Supreme God... smiled as he looked upon the woman.

He knelt briefly on the cool stone, took her hand—her skin was smooth and colder than the night air—and pressed a kiss to it with the same unhurried charm that had given his court its name.

"Soon, my empress," he said, the words quiet against the distant patter of the fountains, "this vessel will be yours."

HUMMMM!!!

In that moment, a wind stirred through the garden, soft enough that the indigo and silver petals only trembled, carrying a thinner cold that did not belong to the ordinary night.

An illusory figure took shape in that current, visible to the Smiling Supreme God alone: a form washed in black, pure eyes like open abysses, short black hair parted with absurd beauty.

Her appearance was so divine it made the Death Siren beside her look mediocre.

She drifted and settled in a floating repose around the blindfolded woman. As she did, black chains began to resolve in the air about them both, link after link gathering without sound until the altar space felt narrower.

She laughed, the sound bright and sharp inside the privacy of the vision.

Seeing the woman, the Supreme God’s face lit with open excitement. He lowered his head at once, the gesture of a man greeting the only authority he still chose to kneel to.

"My Empress."

’Oh, this pitiful human,’ she mused inwardly, a soft scoff escaping in her thoughts, while outwardly she kept her flawless and serene composure intact.

’When will you finally hurry and complete my plans?’

As these final thoughts drifted through her mind, she spoke, her voice light and almost playful.

"You’ve done well," she said, her eyes softening as she tilted her head just slightly, radiating a gentle, coaxing charm.

"But I’d appreciate it if you picked up the pace."

The impact on him was immediate.

He stood taller, a spark of determination in his eyes, hands spreading wide as though the garden around him could bear witness to his vow.

"I will see to every remaining piece myself," he said, brown eyes bright under the dim black-and-blue light.

"The Skull of the nine-headed death hydra will be found before the year turns. The vessel will be perfected... nothing will be left incomplete, nothing rushed into some cheap failure that costs us any more time apart.

You will have your seat, my Empress. I swear it on the Court."

She listened to all the nonsense with a smile, letting it wash over her without interruption.

Then, meeting his eyes just once and properly, the coaxing look she’d worn faded. One eyebrow lifted in subtle challenge.

The depth of her gaze lingered on him longer than politeness demanded, holding him in its quiet gravity.

"Oh?" she murmured. "How interesting."