She sat in the Demon King’s hall, boredom pooling like stagnant water, counting her own hair for sport.

The great hall sprawled like a giant plaza; no dancers to stir the crowd, only air like a tomb and thick Slaughter fogging the walls.

No guards; the hall itself was a fortress. The air was a blade—touch it, and Slaughter did the rest.

No attendants; even those born of the Ocean of Darkness would drown in such concentrated Slaughter.

Only Liebich lay on his personal bench, yawning like a lazy cat, as usual.

No. Not the same.

Her thoughts drifted like smoke; the count slipped away. Rage flared, ready to scorch her hair like dry straw. Then a breath cooled it—not worth it.

On any other day, Nan Lu would call Liebich out, stern as a temple bell. Liebich would spar back, tongue like a blade, and she’d slip in her own thoughts, like pebbles in a stream.

Of course, the shameless Liebich usually won, like a fox outwitting hounds.

“Nan Lu’s a reserved child, a good one, quiet as frost…”

“She talks like a swordsman, but inside she blushes, a cherry bud under steel.”

“Where’d she slip off to, like mist at dawn?”

“I don’t know. Vega grabbed Nan Lu and summoned a swarm of skulking wraiths, then vanished like smoke. Berenz charged like a mad boar. Had I not raised a shield in time, my lord, your two senior retainers would be one dead and one sealed.” He snorted. “We wouldn’t even know the killer, a knife in the dark.”

Liebich’s tone was sharp; he huffed and rolled to his other side, like a flag whipped by wind.

Is he restless too, like ants under hot stone?

“How could Nan Lu be caught? Even two-on-one, she shouldn’t be taken alive. She’s a hawk among sparrows.”

“I said I don’t know. When I arrived, Nan Lu was already bound, and Vega took her away, like a tide snatching driftwood.”

“Even I couldn’t pin Berenz, and Andor didn’t show, so how did Nan Lu get caught? Like trying to net a storm!”

“My lord, steady your heart,” he said, letting the storm settle.

Liebich finally lost patience. He sprang off the bench and faced Anna head-on, like a spring uncoiling.

“Your heart’s a mess. It doesn’t suit Anna, the Demon King’s trueborn daughter who plays the world like a chessboard.”

Anna turned away and held her tongue, admitting she’d let her feelings run hot, like summer sun.

“Phew… When it’s about yourself, nerves prickle like thorns.”

She drew a long breath. Her gaze regained its usual sheen, polished jade in lamplight.

“Let’s sum it up. Vega and Berenz under Andor used some unknown means to beat and kidnap Nan Lu, nets thrown in fog.”

“Correct,” Liebich said, voice flat as stone.

“Andor’s army hides deep among mortals, needles under ash. We’ve no intel on where their Demon King Castle sits, a city swallowed by night. Even my Slaughter resonance finds no echo, a shout lost to fog.”

“Correct,” he answered, heavy as iron.

“So we can’t save Nan Lu; there’s nowhere to grip, like climbing sheer ice.”

“Correct,” a gong in the silence.

“This operation cost us Nan Lu. Unsealing the Sky-Bearer only tossed a pebble at the Hero Squad.”

“…It left Augustus’s Hero Squad badly wounded, most unable to fight for a while. But yes, ‘correct’—wounds that can heal, cracks that time mends.”

“Extra gains… A potential senior retainer, Catherine Breeze. We marked the next generation of the Hero Squad. We can assassinate them, ink on prey.”

“I don’t think it’s as easy as you say, but it can count as ‘correct’ for now, dusk called night.”

“Whichever way you slice it, we lost, gold traded for ash.”

Anna smacked her throne’s armrest, displeasure ringing like a drum.

“If I hand Catherine to Andor, Liebich, can we trade Nan Lu back, chess for chess?”

“In pure value, it’s a win-win, scales balanced. But Nan Lu likely knows how she was taken. For info control, Lord Andor won’t agree, lips sealed with wax.”

“Let him kill Nan Lu, wipe her memory of Andor, then we resurrect her—can’t we, a scroll redrawn?”

“I fear Lord Andor won’t gamble on forgetting, mist holding a shape.”

“Mm… Forget it. Nan Lu will likely suffer, but there’s no help for it. Let’s do what we can first, setting sails in a narrow wind.”

Anna clapped lightly, stepped down from the throne, and approached the silent girl in the Demon King’s hall, footfalls like moths on silk.

“Catherine, join us. I promise you power, status, wealth, love—everything but my seat. Nod, and it’s yours, jewels under lanterns.”

“…”

The girl said nothing, still as a statue, stone under snow.

“What’s wrong? I’ve allowed you to speak. Your answer, whip-quick?”

“…”

“Your body is filled with the concept of Slaughter, to the brim. You’re my subject within my domain. Your soul and flesh belong to me. You’ve died; there’s no going back, door shut in night. You know that.”

“…”

“All right. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, knots in reeds.”

Anna spread her hands, helpless. She stepped back, drew a leather whip from the darkness behind, and beckoned Liebich forward, a snake from shadow.

“Liebich, don’t loaf—come help. And… Catherine, kneel first, command dropping like a stone.”

She moved the Slaughter within the girl and forced the body to obey, strings pulled by a puppeteer.

Like a machine, the girl bent and knelt, stiff and silent, her face an empty mask, wax under cold moon.

Anna crouched, lifted the girl’s chin with the whip, and idly stroked her smooth cheek, touch sliding like water.

“It’s fine. We have plenty of time. We’ll take it slow, words coiling like smoke…”