“How is this possible…??” Nadja rose from her throne, her expression troubled.
“The Chains of Obedience have been broken. What on earth is happening?”
Something impossible had occurred.
Nadja bit her lip anxiously.
All demons possess some degree of mental control over humans.
Her clan was especially gifted in this ability, and Nadja had never been content with natural talent alone.
She honed her skills relentlessly to draw closer to her master.
The ultimate proof of this was the “Chains of Obedience” bestowed upon her directly by her master.
Among the millions of chains spread throughout the Empire, centered around the system, only 150 had broken.
A negligible number by ratio.
The problem was not the ratio, but the very fact that the chains had snapped on their own.
There could be some humans who resisted—like the Fifth Prince Klavis who escaped the Imperial Palace by his own power five years ago.
But that was because Nadja deliberately allowed it to happen; his resistance wasn’t strong enough to completely break free from control.
This time, the situation was completely different.
The control was utterly severed, and when the chains were extended again, they were repelled.
It meant that a mysterious entity, equal to or greater than Nadja in mental power, had appeared.
“I must inform Lord Lust… Ah, but surely he will be disappointed.” Her beautiful face darkened with deep sorrow.
“No. I can’t show him such a disappointing sight. I have to do something… somehow…”
At that moment, Nadja suddenly dropped to her knees.
Her body moved instinctively before her mind could catch up.
The empty space before her distorted; the air groaned low like a frightened herbivore.
The collapsing space crumpled violently, then split open like a dissected frog, revealing arms and legs emerging beyond the chaos.
Soon, the entire form appeared.
“…Master.”
Struggling under a crushing pressure that seemed to weigh down her entire body, Nadja barely found the strength to speak.
The being standing before her smiled.
“How far has the task I assigned progressed?”
“…!”
Startled by the sudden question, Nadja inhaled sharply.
Just as she parted her lips to compose herself and respond, her master and creator, Lust, spoke.
“Has an interloper appeared?”
“I am fine… Master, Nadja is fine! I would never disappoint you…!”
“Come here.”
Nadja rose, her body moving against all reason, emotion, and instinct.
Soon, she stood before Lust.
If Nadja was a national beauty who dazzled and enchanted everyone, Lust was the one who instilled fear in all and drove them mad.
Not because she looked frightening, but because she transcended cognition.
What cannot be understood is the root of fear and the seed of madness.
Beauty is no different.
Beauty beyond understanding first causes astonishment, then madness.
“Hah, hah… Master…”
Nadja was no different.
Compared to humans, it was just a matter of speed.
Lust’s smile deepened as she watched Nadja’s quickened breath and flushed cheeks.
“Come now, don’t hide anything. Tell me everything.”
Lust lightly kissed Nadja’s face, and in that moment, Nadja’s body began to dissolve.
Not a metaphor.
Instantly, her form lost shape, and her clothes, empty shells, fell limp to the floor.
A pink liquid steamed as it spilled below.
“Oh dear…” Lust sighed with pity.
The pink liquid spreading across the mirror-like polished floor defied gravity and floated upward.
Tilting her head, Lust brought the liquid to her lips, swallowing it with a gulp, then exhaled a heated sigh.
“Poor child.”
Everything Nadja had seen, heard, felt, and remembered was transmitted to Lust.
To say Lust “ate” it would be inaccurate.
Nadja was originally created as a part of Lust herself.
Nadja had been a precious child, and Lust had even given her a name as a token of gratitude.
But she could take it back anytime.
Nadja was no equal, not even a subordinate.
She was merely a part of Lust’s body.
“Hmm.” Lust narrowed her eyes and snorted softly as she savored Nadja’s memories.
Someone had interfered with the plan Nadja was carrying out.
Lust knew.
Recently, one of the Seven Lords, Pride, who had ventured into the Middle World, had suddenly died.
“Uhuhu.”
Lust, who had planned to create a being like Nadja to entrust her plan, changed her mind and sat back on her throne.
The other Seven Lords were indifferent to Pride’s death, but Lust was different.
The fact that an abnormal being with power strong enough to kill a Seven Lord in human form existed stimulated her thirst.
It was also why she had come to the Middle World herself after a long time.
“Could that child satisfy me…?!” A fire ignited inside her chest, burning fiercely.
It didn’t take long before the overwhelming emotions flooded the Imperial Palace.
Barbaric acts, beyond description, erupted everywhere.
“Uhuhu. Huhuhuhu.”
Amid it all, Lust laughed innocently like a child, her chest swelling with anticipation.
***
Night had fallen.
Soares, hearing that everyone was asleep, quietly rose from the stump.
The night watch was usually done in pairs, but Soares’s turn was an exception.
She was the strongest among the prince’s companions and the only woman in the group.
It was also a sign of the prince’s trust in her above all others.
Thanks to this, moving around was easier.
Although she felt uncomfortable using the prince’s trust this way, she comforted herself that it was necessary.
After carefully considering everything several times, she headed to the outskirts of the camp where a single-person tent was set up.
It was the tent Zion used.
According to the sounds, Zion was also quietly asleep.
Soares entered silently and sighed with relief when she saw Zion deep in sleep.
But it was only momentary before guilt and conflict rushed over her again.
“His Highness… would not want me to do this.”
Even if it went against the prince’s wishes, she believed it was necessary.
Zion was someone who must be kept at all costs for the prince’s grand vision.
Soares had also heard the promise exchanged between Zion and the prince by the campfire at night.
But that was far from enough.
Promises born of goodwill often collapse so easily.
Whether it was a vow or a contract sealed with evidence, it was the same.
Soares did not completely distrust human kindness.
Yet she knew how difficult and grueling it was to uphold good faith.
It was more reliable to satisfy desires and guarantee benefits than to blindly trust another’s goodwill.
“My life given to His Highness must be used for His Highness’s future.”
Resolute, Soares reached to unbutton the coarse shirt she wore.
She tried to ignore the faint tremble in her fingertips.
Though strong in body and mind, she was not a woman without fear or pain.
Yet at this moment, her respect and loyalty to the prince surpassed everything.
“Ms. Soares, please don’t.”
Until she heard Zion’s voice, she was certain of her decision.
“…!” Soares swallowed the scream that almost burst out and looked up.
Zion had somehow awakened and sat up, looking at her with a mix of pity and suspicion.
‘When had he woken?’
“What were you about to do?”
“Th-that…” Biting her lips, Soares stammered.
Zion wasn’t completely ignorant—though awkward around the castle, he wasn’t so clueless.
Fortunately, only the top two buttons were undone, but if she had been slower to wake, the situation could have become perilous.
“Did His Highness order this?”
“That’s…!” Her voice was almost a growl.
Regaining control, Soares bit her lips and lowered her gaze.
Zion waited for her answer, then suddenly stood.
“It feels a bit odd talking about this here. Shall we go outside for some fresh air?”
There was no refusal.
Soares nodded reluctantly.
Together, they left the tent and headed toward the campfire, which still burned brightly.
“Clavon tea.” Zion briefly left and returned with two rough wooden cups.
The roles had reversed from before.
Soares accepted the cup, drinking the tea with surprising ease—even to herself.
The thought of checking for poison only came after two or three sips, followed by a small sigh.
“This was not ordered by His Highness. He would never command such a thing.”
Clavon tea had a calming effect.
Realizing this, Soares muttered weakly.
“I don’t know His Highness well. We’ve been together less than a month, and before that, I saw him almost ten years ago.”
“All my decisions were mine alone. Mr. Alkoth, please don’t insult His Highness.”
Soares began to speak hesitantly.
Her intentions behind what she had almost done.
Her face flushed at the embarrassing confession, but Zion listened to the end.
“I was foolish. I committed a grave offense. I am sorry, Mr. Alkoth.”
Only after speaking did Soares realize that her attempt to protect the prince was an insult to him.
Likewise, it was an insult to Zion’s kindness.
Had she become so narrow-minded that she could not even see this?
A sharp pain stabbed her heart.
“I don’t like that. I won’t forgive you.”
“…What?”
Still, she never expected to hear those words face to face.
“Ms. Soares, how old are you? I’m sixteen.”
“Twenty-eight… years old.”
“Wow, so I’m much younger? Please speak comfortably. Honestly, I was quite uncomfortable until now. If you treat me casually from now on, I’ll forgive you.”
Soares suddenly understood Zion’s intent.
To keep her from falling into negative feelings, he wanted to lighten the mood with a casual topic.
“Didn’t I tell you before? It’s like an occupational hazard.”
Soares answered, drawing a line, but she smiled naturally.
It felt so futile and foolish to have been wary of him all this time.
“Diseases can be cured.”
“Perhaps.”
“My mother used to say that the most important thing in curing illness is for the patient to believe they can get better and to try. So let’s try together, Ms. Soares. I’ll help you too.”
It was a lofty notion, but oddly, Soares had no inclination to doubt or argue.
Zion had always been this way.
She just hadn’t known before.
Or maybe she had known and simply pretended not to.
For a while, they talked casually with ease.
Sometimes Soares led, sometimes Zion did.
The prince, the Empire, Illium and the Count Aleph family, the Kornika incident—all sorts of topics arose.
Even in such a short time, people could grow close.
“You should go back to sleep now. The next night watch will wake soon.”
“Has it already come to that? What if I’m late waking up because of you, Soares? Then you’re responsible.”
“I’ll make sure to wake you up for sure, so don’t worry. Hehe, sleep well, Alkoth… Zion.”
Seeing Soares off, Zion returned to his tent.
He lay down with a content expression, ready to sleep, when suddenly something he’d forgotten struck his mind.
He sat up abruptly and shouted in his head.
‘Wait! Uncle! Uncle?! You saw everything from the start, didn’t you?! You knew it all! Why did you stay silent?!’
[Hmm? What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I didn’t know.]
Frey, who had obviously known Soares approached while Zion was still asleep, feigned ignorance with a calm shrug.
Zion stomped his feet helplessly.
‘If you’d been any later, it would have been a disaster! If that had happened, how would I have faced Ms. Soares tomorrow…!’
[Nothing happened in the end, so why the fuss? If anyone heard, they’d think Soares danced naked right in front of you.]
“Tha…!” Zion’s face turned bright red as he involuntarily pictured the scene.
Frey laughed carefree.
“Ugh, ughhh… I’m going to sleep now.”
[Do you think you can sleep?]
“Anyway, I’m going to sleep!”
Zion shouted and forced a blanket over himself, closing his eyes.
Almost like a lie, he soon fell into a deep sleep.
***
“Everyone, attention. I have something to say.”
The next morning, standing in the center of the camp, the prince’s voice stopped everyone in their tracks.
“Your Highness? Planning to give a rare morning speech? You don’t like those.”
“We have no time for such useless ceremonies. What I have to say now is very important.”
With all eyes on him, the prince calmly declared, “From now on, we will completely overhaul our rebel army’s plan to restore the Empire from the ground up.”