Rogue headed to his supply warehouse, pondering Lilitha’s upbringing.

Pets and slaves were different. Making Lilitha a slave would be simple: constant beatings to etch deep fear into her subconscious.

But pets required trust alongside the master-servant bond. The demon hounds outside wagged their tails at him—he fed them regularly. That was a shallow pet relationship.

Yet this young dragon was what Lady Aria needed. An ordinary pet wouldn’t suffice.

It had to be perfect.

Pets could have tantrums and independent thoughts. Blind obedience made them no different from slaves.

Rogue hadn’t tried this before, but as an interrogator, he could mimic the process.

“Same old routine,” he muttered alone. “But her injuries are a hassle.”

He had to change the dragon’s mindset. Lilitha’s greatest wish now was death.

She lacked the courage to die, though. Hope lingered. To survive, she needed food. In her mind, food meant enduring beatings—pleasing her former master with tears and screams.

These thoughts needed changing.

Rogue would combine instilling fear with offering hope. His usual method.

Shift her fear from others to himself. Then, in that fear, make her see only he could give hope. That would build the master-servant bond.

Deeper trust could wait.

At the warehouse, he gathered herbs and a wooden tub. Lilitha was filthy and badly wounded. Without the Dragon Clan’s robust physique, torture would’ve killed her already.

Nurse her body first. Then proceed.

As a Priest, he knew healing magic and herbology. He could brew simple potions.

After gathering herbs, bread, and water, he headed back to Lilitha’s room.

Passing a cell, chains clanked loudly inside.

“Rogue!” A hoarse, furious female voice shouted. “Traitor! Why side with demons?”

Rogue looked expressionlessly at the golden-haired girl. She was half-naked, lips cracked, covered in wounds.

Moy Gracy (Third Princess of Gracy Kingdom)

Race: Human (Former member of Hero Squad)

Blessing: Blessing of the God of Glory

Current Status: Angry

Current Need: Reason for Rogue’s betrayal (78%)

Current Need: Great power (12%)

Current Need: Defeat the Demon King (6%)

Other Needs: Unknown (4%)

After the Hero Squad’s collapse three years ago, members fled underground. Moy was captured three months ago. Demon King Aria’s interrogation failed, so she ordered Moy’s execution.

Someone suggested Rogue try. Moy was imprisoned here—a week before Lilitha. Every time she saw him, her emotions surged wildly.

Rogue thought it was their shared humanity. In a faith-driven world, traitors were unforgivable.

He gave her a deep look. “I don’t know why you always ask. Lady Aria saved my life. I serve her. Simple.”

Rogue walked past calmly. Moy struggled fiercely against her chains. Nearby prisoners glanced over.

No one pitied her. Long-term inmates knew Rogue never softened at words. Though human, he was more terrifying than demons.

Passing cells and a flower garden, he reached Lilitha’s room.

He knocked twice and entered.

Lilitha huddled in the corner. Light flooded the dim room, making her crimson eyes widen briefly.

Then they dimmed. She knew this place. The shadowy man before her—bangs covering half his eyes—was her new “master.”

Hope still lingered in her eyes? Pity. The “hope” I bring isn’t what you expect.

Rogue crouched near her. She shrank back instinctively, but he grabbed her tattered clothes.

She struggled. He pinned her with one hand and roughly tore the fabric.

Her resistance intensified. Magic-suppressed, she was like an ordinary child. Futile. Soon, he stripped her bare except for the pendant on her chest.

Lilitha covered herself with small hands, tears streaming. His unchanging expression terrified her more.

To deepen her fear, to make her grasp the “loss of clothes,” he loosened his grip slightly. Let her struggle. Let her “lose” to an adult.

Instilling fear was just step one.

To erase her past thoughts, deeper impressions were quickest.

The cramped space, senseless violence, future uncertainty, and shame—all combined. In Rogue’s eyes, the death need on the mimic text rose steadily.

His gaze stayed calm, fixed on her.

He showed no pity. In interrogation, silence was a catalyst. She never knew his next move. The last action’s impact amplified. She grew hypersensitive.

Lilitha’s tears flowed nonstop. Her body curled tightly—a false sense of security.

Too much abuse had made this her subconscious defense.

Not a good sign.

Rogue tried prying open her shielding hands. She resisted fiercely each time. He wasn’t rushed. He unlocked her shackles, letting her fight freely.

Here, the Dragon Clan’s bloodline was suppressed. Magic forbidden. Even as a dragon, she was now just a human girl. No match for Rogue.

After over half an hour…