Chapter 48

"Hmph, do you think I’m the kind of person who’d bother with something so boring?"

As Stalos finished speaking, Lisbeth instinctively retracted the Battle Aura she’d gathered in her hands. Stalos’s lips twitched slightly. She jabbed a finger at Lisbeth’s hands. "Don’t lie! You were totally planning an arm-wrestling match just now! Stop treating me like an idiot!"

"Tch, you’re so annoying."

Lisbeth pouted, clearly displeased her plan was exposed. "So what’s your brilliant idea? If you’ve got nothing, let’s just fight."

"No, Lisbeth. You know we’re running out of time. We only have four hours left. To settle this fast, I’ll ask you one thing: what are we right now?"

"Our identities? We’re Christia’s Personal Maids. What else?"

Though confused, Lisbeth answered honestly. Stalos smiled. "Exactly. But more fundamentally, we’re both servants of Lord Demon King. Lisbeth, are you willing to prove your loyalty to him?"

"Loyalty? What do you mean?"

Lisbeth stared at her, baffled. Stalos kept smiling, raising one finger. "Let me be blunt. I came here today not just for myself—but for Lord Demon King."

"You must’ve noticed he’s always insecure about his chest. Simple reason: his mother had noticeable curves at his age. But Lord Demon King? Still flat as a washboard. For our great lord’s sake, Lisbeth, shouldn’t you sacrifice a little?"

"Hah. That’s rich."

Lisbeth scoffed. "I’ll ignore whether that’s true. But why must *I* prove loyalty? Why not you? You could drink that Growth Potion yourself to test it."

"Ah… I guess that makes sense…"

Stalos’s confidence faltered. She flushed angrily. "Think! My chest is already as flat as it gets! What if the fake potion stunts my growth forever?!"

"So what? What if mine shrinks after drinking it? And honestly, why should I care if you stop growing?"

"Hey! How can you say that?!" Stalos jabbed a finger again, furious. "You might only lose a tiny bit! But you’d be helping *two* people—me *and* Lord Demon King!"

"No. Forget helping you. I’ll tell you plainly: Lord Demon King’s chest will never rise above washboard-flat. Ever."

"Eh?"

---

Meanwhile—

"Let me go! Release me!!! Kill them!! I’ll slaughter them!!!"

"Ahhh! Lord Demon King, please calm down!!"

While Lisbeth and Stalos argued, Christia had erupted from his chair, murder in his eyes. Ovelia and Hilda each grabbed one of his arms. "Your Majesty, stay calm! They meant no harm! If you rush out now, you’ll expose that you’ve been spying on them! Think carefully!!!"

"Silence!! Their words were pure malice! They crushed my future hopes! I don’t care about spying anymore! I’ll eliminate them all right here!"

"Especially Lisbeth! That damn Buxom Fox—I’ll cut off her chest today!!!!!!!!"

Christia strained against their grip, nearly breaking free. Ovelia and Hilda knew releasing him meant death for Lisbeth and Stalos. They took a deep breath, ready to soothe him again—until Lisbeth and Stalos’s voices echoed out once more. Their hands instantly went slack.

---

"Lisbeth, what do you mean? Lord Demon King’s chest can’t stay washboard-flat forever!"

"Actually… it might be worse."

Lisbeth covered her face, voice muffled. "Christia tried everything—potions, exercises, even drinking milk daily. Nothing worked. I swear on my honor: Growth Potion won’t help him. If it did, he’d have seen results by now."

"Hey, Alex, stop talking! You’ll blow your cover!"

Clothilde, possessing Lisbeth’s arm, hissed a warning. Lisbeth clapped a hand over her mouth. *Oops. I almost slipped.*

"R-Really? Lord Demon King’s that unlucky?"

Stunned, Stalos missed the slip-up. She nodded gravely. "Honestly, I think his chest will never grow. We Demon Clan mature early. If there’s no change by age ten… well… sigh…"

She sighed as if mourning Christia. "Still, Lord Demon King keeps trying. Unlike that traitorous glasses-wearer Ovelia. She’s just as flat, yet she’s given up. If she worked harder, she could brew a potion to fix this."

"Oh, right. Her chest *is* tiny."

Lisbeth paused, recalling. "I’ve barely met her, but yeah—small. Though Head Maid Hilda’s chest is huge. Pity she’s an old hag."

"Lisbeth, why do you keep calling Head Maid Hilda ‘old hag’? She looks twenty, like a Human Race girl."

Stalos frowned. Lisbeth shook her head. "Looks deceive. She’s ancient. And trust me—if I slipped that potion into her food, nothing’d change. Old bodies don’t age further~"

"Hahaha, that’s mean, Lisbeth."

Stalos laughed. "Anyway, back to testing the potion. Even if Lord Demon King can’t use it, it’d still help *me*!"

"I said—I don’t care about helping *you*! If it benefited Lord Demon King, maybe I’d consider it. But I told you: his chest is already—mmph!!!!!"

A violent impact slammed into Lisbeth’s back. Before she could react, a freezing voice cut through the air behind her.

"You two… you two are so bold…"

"A… a… ahhh…"

Christia loomed behind them, shrouded in dark aura. Both maids trembled uncontrollably. Survival instinct kicked in. Stalos waved her hands frantically. "L-Lord Demon King, listen! It’s not what you—"

"Silence… Today is your death day!!!!"

"Eeeeeeh!?"

That day, Lisbeth and Stalos learned the true meaning of hell…