Tonight, the Demon Lord Fortress would know no peace.

A single blast of Overlord Magic had leveled the grounds around Rogue’s manor. Though Germok swiftly slew the skyborne dragon, the fortress still bore heavy damage.

The Dragon Clan had somehow unleashed waves of high-tier magic within the city walls. Countless low-tier demons lay dead or wounded.

Far away in the Withered Marshes, Aria and Mallo also felt that surge of Overlord Magic.

Deep within the crater, Gudexia dissipated into motes of light. The Silver Dragon King was finally dead—a great enemy of the demon race vanquished. This should have been cause for celebration.

But Mallo’s face darkened as he sensed the magical assault on the fortress. "Lady Aria, I’ll handle the aftermath here. The castle was attacked. Perhaps you should—"

Before he could finish, Mallo’s eyes widened in shock.

Aria cradled her cheeks, crimson eyes burning with madness. She leaned close to Mallo, her breathtaking yet eerie beauty leaving him flustered. "Mallo, can you feel it? Can you feel it?"

"Feel... what?" Mallo kept his face stern, barely daring to breathe. Now he understood why Eris had gone so mad for Lady Aria.

Aria gazed toward the fortress, a smile blooming on her lips like a blood-stained rose. "Ah~ That’s the scent of a Deity."

"A Deity?" Mallo tensed instantly at the word.

"Yes! A Deity!"

*Rogue, you truly haven’t disappointed me. You’ve done splendidly~*

Aria took deep, trembling breaths. Her smile couldn’t hide her glee as she turned to Mallo. "We return tomorrow. Gudexia no longer needs watching. I’ve claimed the most valuable thing from him."

Deities—supreme, majestic beings.

They chose believers, bestowing grace and protection upon mortals, granting strength and wisdom. Undeniably, they were the greatest existence in this world.

Beings all would chase, regardless of strength.

But for nearly a century, the Deities had turned away. Disasters multiplied. Prayers went unanswered. Divine blessings dwindled, making ascension to Legendary status a near-impossible dream.

Let alone serving beside a Deity—or becoming one.

How could Aria not thrill at sensing a Deity’s presence again?

Back at Rogue’s side, Lilitha had collapsed into sleep inside the storeroom. He sent Unit One to survey his ruined manor. The magic arrays were destroyed. Only Automatons One through Five remained functional. The southern and western prisons lay in rubble.

The fate of the prisoners trapped there was unclear. Only the eastern prison—closest to his current location—stood intact. It held powerful, high-risk captives. Its destruction would have caused serious trouble.

Germok approached, carrying a man’s severed head. His face was grim, but he sighed in relief seeing Rogue’s minor injuries. "You’re unharmed. My negligence nearly cost us."

"It’s fine. Even you couldn’t block an Overlord Magic blast unprepared. Slaying that dragon was enough." Rogue shook his head. It was the truth.

Without preparation, even two Legendary-tier powerhouses like himself and Germok couldn’t have stopped that attack.

Rogue’s prolonged presence here might only risk exposing his secrets.

Germok’s voice turned grave. "We lack healers. I’ll need your aid treating the wounded later. There’s a traitor in the fortress. I must join forces with Eris to root them out."

At Eris’s name, Rogue’s heart sank. He said nothing. After briefing Germok on the events, he retreated to his room.

He’d burned all bridges with Eris. The other wouldn’t rest.

Aria would return tomorrow. Eris wouldn’t dare move against him yet—but time was a luxury Rogue didn’t have. He had to strike first.

Rogue watched Lilitha’s exhausted face. His mind churned. Tonight’s events revealed much.

Most crucially: the matter of memories.

Eris, one of Lady Aria’s Four Generals, had served her for a century. He must have witnessed the great battle between the Demon King and the Hero three years ago.

Yet his earlier actions proved he, like Rogue himself, remembered nothing of that day.

Otherwise, he’d never have underestimated Rogue’s strength.

Unless, as Aria claimed, Rogue truly was just a bystander caught in the crossfire—utterly insignificant.

But was that possible?

Rogue didn’t believe it. He knew countless high-tier spells. His swordsmanship was exceptional. He could even practice Overlord Magic. In a one-on-one duel without interference, Rogue was seventy percent certain he could kill Eris decisively. Twenty percent chance Eris would flee. The last ten? Simple humility.

If an "insignificant nobody" like him lost his memories from mere collateral damage... why did the Hero’s party fail?

Eris had no memories. Rogue had none. The other demons’ attitudes suggested they remembered nothing either. Perhaps only Aria knew what truly happened.

And then there was... Lilitha.

Her inheritance of the Silver Dragon King’s legacy had been far more spectacular than Rogue anticipated. She’d even saved his life.

*Raise her as a pet... then hand her to Lady Aria?*

This Young Dragon Princess was destined for a grim fate.

Rogue sat in the storeroom for two hours. Only when Unit One knocked did he emerge.

Severely wounded demons—some near death—awaited his healing.

Rogue composed himself, his expression smoothing into its usual calm mask. He raised his elf-crafted staff to tend to them.

He worked through the entire night. By dawn, the healing was finally done.

But rest was still out of reach. After a quick meal, he prepared food for Lilitha. Entering the storeroom, he found her still asleep, tear tracks staining her cheeks.

The Silver Dragon King’s legacy had fully awakened within her. All her wounds had vanished. Her skin glowed porcelain-pale, lending her cute face an air of holiness.

The clock chimed. Rogue silenced it. He didn’t wake her. He simply watched her sleep.

Long minutes passed before Lilitha finally stirred. Her eyes opened—empty, lost.

Seeing him, her dull crimson irises shifted slightly. Then stilled.

Rogue longed for her usual reaction: a startled jump, followed by that kittenish glare—fearful yet fiercely defiant.

Last night’s trauma had shattered her like never before.

Rogue’s hand drifted to his pocket, where the pendant holding the Silver Dragon King’s essence had lain. He started to pull it out—then stilled midway.

*The pendant... perhaps it’s no longer needed.*

He gently lifted Lilitha upright. Kneeling before her, he met her hollow gaze. His deep voice softened. "Lilitha. Hello."

This time, he spoke in halting Draconic.