“Mr. Hero, if you’re in there, could you open the door?”

Why did that voice sound so familiar—and so punchable?

Oh, right, I remembered. He was the one in the red robes, the loudmouth who led the group that ganged up on me on day one.

Yeah, I still really wanted to kill him.

“Coming, just a second.” The Hero seemed to respect him a lot. He walked quickly to the door, straightened his back, smoothed his clothes, then put his hand on the doorknob. With a soft creak from the hinges, the door opened.

“Archbishop Fangzheng, the Dark Lord woke up this morning, so I didn’t attend morning prayer. Was there anything important I missed?” the Hero asked with a smile. His expression was like a student facing a teacher—slightly fawning, maybe a bit fake.

“It’s fine. Since the mission to capture the Dark Lord is complete, there’s nothing too pressing.” The man—so he was the Archbishop Fangzheng—patted the Hero’s shoulder. “I’ve come to bother you, Mr. Hero, because I want to check the Dark Lord’s condition.”

The Hero, Lott, stepped aside to let him in. I watched the Archbishop stroll into the room. He looked over at my side and frowned slightly.

He was just tall. His build was solid but not fat; you could feel the strength in his limbs even through the wide robes. None of that bloated, greasy look corrupt nobles have in anime. He clearly trained regularly.

It was just that stupid mustache that really pissed me off.

“Don’t worry, Archbishop. The Dark Lord is completely sealed. Right now, she’s no different from a child.” Lott followed right behind him, even standing a bit in front of him. It really looked like he was intentionally protecting me. So he hadn’t forgotten his promise. Not bad. But I still couldn’t fully trust him. Our identities were completely on opposite sides.

So I had to find a way to make him fully trust me.

“Good.” The Archbishop glanced at me and twirled his little mustache with his fingers. “I have a few questions for her. May I take her with me for interrogation?”

Wipe that filthy look off your face! I cursed him silently. Look at your red robe—how many stains is that? Why can’t you just ask here? To me, that comical expression of yours was nothing but lust and greed written all over your face.

I could have a hundred guesses and a hundred complaints, but what could I actually do? As he came closer, fear rose in me despite myself. At a time like this I actually had the thought of relying on my arch-enemy? How could I be this pathetic?

“Tch, you old geezer.” I folded my arms and turned my head away to ease my nerves, and to hype myself up. “Ask whatever you want. I’m a newly born Dark Lord; I don’t have any secrets yet.”

He didn’t get angry at my provocation at all. He stayed very calm. He walked up to me, half-squatted so we were eye level. “Great Dark Lord, I only have one question I wish to consult you on.” He paused. “The Hero stands at the peak of martial arts and has access to an inherited armory, filled with divine weapons collected by generations of Heroes. Unfortunately, only a Hero can use them.”

“So what? It’s not like I can help you get them out.” I retreated step by step until my back hit the bars of the cage, trying to get as far away from this dangerous man as I could.

“I recall that the Dark Lord, as the king of magic, also stands at the pinnacle of alchemy. Every Dark Lord has plundered countless rare alchemical materials and wealth. Where did all that go? Current Dark Lord, you wouldn’t happen to have a little treasury of your own—one you can still access, would you?” He stared straight at me, like he wanted to see right through my soul.

In this world where prophecy skills are busted and everyone’s put points into weird places, it wouldn’t be strange if he already knew. And yeah, the Dark Lord did have a treasure vault that could be opened at any time. But opening the vault counted as magic. Without mana, you couldn’t open it even if you knew how.

Because the foundation was the Dark Lord’s bloodline.

“Sorry, there really is a vault like that,” I said, giving him a sidelong look and watching his face. “But unless you remove this seal—” I pointed at the collar on my neck “—I’m totally helpless without magic.”

“Don’t try to play tricks on me!”

“Eek~ so scary. But I really can’t do anything.” I tilted my head up, completely shameless. “Hurry up and kneel at my feet and remove my seal. In return, I can give you treasure enough to rival a nation.” I wasn’t exaggerating. If everything in that vault were converted into money, the Dark Lord’s hoard really could rival an entire country.

“You—!” His voice trembled. I knew he was furious—Buddha-level furious. I quickly snuck a pitiful look over at the Hero.

“Men, take her—cage and all—down to the dungeon. Let’s see how tough a little girl’s mouth can stay, even if she’s the Dark Lord.” Not good. He might be ashamed and angry, but he could still keep it together. His mental fortitude was way too good.

Guess I really shouldn’t casually use all that bargain-bin pop-psychology I read when I was bored.

Two knights strode in from outside, armor clanking loudly. I had zero doubt that if the Hero didn’t stop them, they’d carry me and the whole cage away without hesitation.

At the most critical moment, the Hero took a big step forward and blocked their path. “Wait.”

I was moved—but also furious. Could you be faster? Believe it or not, I’ll beat you to death with an Oxford dictionary later! What are you posing for?

Still, safe was safe.

“What do you mean by this, Mr. Hero?” The Archbishop slowly straightened up and looked at Lott.

“Sorry, Archbishop, you misunderstood me.” Lott lowered his voice. “The seal on the Dark Lord is tightly linked to me. The dungeon is too far. I’m worried that distance might weaken the seal. Without enough people to keep suppressing her, it could cause irreparable consequences. So, it’s better to keep the Dark Lord here with me.”

Didn’t expect this seemingly honest guy to be such a smooth talker. I almost believed it myself. With bullshit this good, why aren’t you writing webnovels?

I couldn’t see the Archbishop’s face from behind, just his back. I saw his hand rise to twist that mustache again. “I see…”

Judging by that thoughtful pose, he actually bought it! Is everyone in this world missing a few IQ points or what?

“Then I’ll trouble you to come along too,” he said in a testing tone, like he was saying: come, let’s tag-team this.

So all that deep reflection of yours completely missed the point. What exactly is inside your head?

“No. In my opinion, even if she is the Dark Lord, she’s still a strong one. She should receive the respect due to a strong person…” Lott took a deep breath.

Crap. That’s basically saying out loud: I’m going to protect her.

The Archbishop wasn’t stupid—in fact, he was smarter than I expected. He stayed silent for a long time, then glanced back at me and looked over the clothes I was wearing. “You’re going to protect her?”

“Oppressing someone who’s already helpless isn’t something a good man does,” Lott said, drawing in a deep breath. “At least until judgment is passed, I’ll protect her.”

“You—!” His tone carried a hint of anger, but inside he was probably furious. “There’s something I’ve always been curious about. Why is your coat on her? At this rate, are you two going to end up sharing the same pair of pants?”

“None of your business.” I cut in before they could start another round. Lott was too slow on the uptake. Since he was protecting me, I couldn’t just let him take all the blame. “The Hero has more backbone than you, and he’s more generous. I borrowed his coat to keep warm, and he agreed. Unlike you, always pointing fingers.”