Lilitha knew clearly: even if the man before her let her leave the warehouse, even if he set her free, she likely couldn’t escape this place.

She’d been captured. She was a slave.

Outside, demons roamed everywhere—creatures that devoured flesh and drank blood, the epitome of evil. Venturing out meant death.

Her father’s pendant had dimmed. Her father was calling to her; she longed to see him, to return to Dragon Isle.

Yes, once out of the warehouse, she could fly away on her wings. As long as she wasn’t inside, she could use magic, to see her fath—

Lilitha was still lost in hopeful fantasies, but the sight beyond the doorway made her body go limp. She collapsed to the ground.

The air reeked of blood. Bloodstains trailed along the path. At the end, two headless corpses were dragged. Their rasping scrape against the ground wasn’t loud, but it pierced the silence.

Under the crimson moonlight, the tall, one-eyed demon hauling the corpses halted. It turned its head mechanically. Its eyes glowed with bloodthirsty red light.

Even No. 1 at the doorway stared fixedly at Lilitha.

Rogue watched the terrified Lilitha. His expression mixed helplessness and bitterness.

Right—outside was terrifying. And utterly devoid of freedom.

He himself was under constant watch in this manor. Lilitha, the future Silver Dragon King valued by Lady Aria, had even less chance.

Even if she transformed and flew out, the patrolling Demon Lord Army would shoot her down instantly.

Escape was unrealistic.

Lilitha turned her head mechanically toward Rogue. A tear rolled from her eye. Beyond fear, her gaze held deep confusion.

Rogue crouched before her, back to the red moon. His shadow swallowed her whole. He ruffled her hair. She finally broke down, sobbing loudly.

Lilitha felt fresh despair.

Rogue glanced into the warehouse, a pang of nostalgia hitting him. He remembered his own early days after amnesia—ridiculed as a human in the Demon Lord Fortress. That pain had scarred him deeply.

Back then, Demon King Aria had pulled him from the shadows. She’d given him work as an interrogator.

Lilitha cried for a long time. Her weak, hoarse sobs made Rogue want to hold her. But he held back. A little kindness was enough.

He was a caretaker. A master. Extra pity was unnecessary.

Lilitha cried herself to sleep. Rogue carried her back to her corner. His eyes fell on the pendant. After hesitating, he tried a perception spell. But immense pressure forced him to stop. He left the warehouse.

The pendant flickered briefly as he departed. Like a sigh of relief, its glow faded.

Back home, Rogue recorded the two dead prisoners. His eyebrows lifted. Both had been jailed beside Moy, the former Hero Squad member. Was she signaling him?

They were important prisoners, but insignificant next to a Hero Squad veteran.

Days ago, Rogue would’ve visited Moy. Now, he had no time.

The Silver Dragon King’s fall would trigger chaos. Lilitha, a potential successor, might bring changes he needed to prevent.

If the tavern owner’s intel was right, the Dragon Clan had sent envoys to the Demon Lord Fortress. They needed guarding against.

Also, figures like Mallo—who coveted Lilitha, the Young Dragon Princess—required attention.

The patrolling Demon Lord Army gave Rogue no security. He’d set his own defenses.

Next morning, before the red moon faded, Rogue was up. He scattered seeds across the manor grounds. They’d form a protective magic array.

At feeding time, he entered the warehouse. Lilitha looked worse than last night. Huddled in the corner, she stared at the faintly glowing pendant, motionless.

Rogue pushed the door open, face blank. Lilitha flinched, clutching her pendant.

He was used to this. He lifted her from the corner. Without needing to please him, she struggled again.

This time, he didn’t punish her. Only during bathing did he use firmer force to assert his control.

At feeding, Lilitha refused to cooperate. No matter how Rogue corrected her, she wouldn’t assume the usual position.

The pendant had thrown her heart into turmoil.

Reluctantly, Rogue pinched her mouth shut. He force-fed her, using water to make her swallow. He hadn’t planned punishment, but her mind was consumed by the pendant.

Only pain could ground her in reality.

Rogue’s expression turned icy. His movements grew rougher. Only when he grabbed for the pendant did Lilitha recall his past shadow.

Fear returned. Her recent obedience felt like a fleeting mirage.

After feeding, Lilitha curled her tail, trembling in the corner.

“This is troublesome,” Rogue muttered, rubbing his temples.

Plans never matched changes. Harshness bred fearful obedience. Gentleness now sparked fiercer resistance.

He’d take it step by step.

By noon and evening, Lilitha’s state worsened. Her defiance intensified.

Her ordinary wounds had healed under herbal treatment. Scars were fading. Rogue planned ointments for older injuries.

Her body mended. Her spirit crumbled.

Two days passed like this.

On the third day, change came. Lilitha’s pendant, once faintly glowing, now flickered only briefly every two hours. The Silver Dragon King’s life was nearly gone.

From outside, Rogue saw Lilitha’s growing anxiety. She clutched the pendant, sobbing and calling out for a response. He sat by the warehouse all night.

He watched her despair when the glow died. He saw her hope flare when it flickered back. His brow stayed furrowed.

Three days of gentleness had done little. He needed a new approach.

That very night, Rogue’s magic array triggered. Uninvited guests arrived at the manor.