He said he'd be back in three to four days.

But it hadn't even been a day yet.

A dream? An illusion?

Lilitha rubbed her eyes with her small hands. The sensation made her face light up with joy. She sprang up and ran to Rogue. "Master!"

She spoke in Human Tongue.

Hearing that sweet voice, Rogue's weary body relaxed slightly. After three years in the Demon Lord Fortress, it felt oddly ironic to find peace in this tiny warehouse.

It had been two whole days since they last met. Lilitha must have missed him terribly.

Rogue thought this, then froze at her next action.

She stopped her greeting mid-step. Blood still stained Rogue's clothes. His exposed skin was covered in countless cuts, as if slashed by blades.

These were wounds from fighting Eris. Rogue had only stopped the bleeding—not treated them. Proof of Eris's attack.

He avoided his own quirky healing magic. It regrew flesh instantly, but the thought of sentient tissue made him queasy.

Seeing his injuries, Lilitha's face paled. "Hurt... pain... pain pain pain?" she cried in Dragon Tongue.

Rogue didn't understand the words, but her panicked expression said enough. She recalled her past and worried for him.

Her small hand touched his wounded arm. A faint silver light glowed from her palm, slowly healing the cuts.

Rogue's pupils contracted. He grabbed her arm. Lilitha flinched, eyes wide with fear.

*Did I do wrong? Is punishment coming?*

She blinked rapidly. Rogue scanned the warehouse instead. The anti-magic array was intact. Lilitha had cast magic without chanting.

This wasn't ordinary magic.

His expression turned sharp. "Lilitha, what was that light?" He pointed at her palm.

Something inside him stirred—a resonance from the Silver Dragon God's Blessing he carried.

Seeing her fear, Rogue exhaled. He brushed his messy bangs aside. He knew he looked awful—unshaven, exhausted.

After handing the elf to Ilidian, he'd rushed back for Lilitha's feeding time. No time to change; he'd just dried his clothes with magic.

This wasn't like him at all.

He released her arm, touched his stubble, and tried to smile. His stiff face refused to move.

Shaking his head, he pulled a wooden bucket from his spatial bag. He filled it with warm water. "Bath time first."

"Master?" Lilitha sensed something was off.

Rogue was drained. Three sleepless days. Battles. Magic. His hopes for kin had crumbled. Even in order, the Steven Family's manor paled next to Aria's Demon Lord Fortress.

Memories only deepened his confusion.

Bathing Lilitha, his movements were stiff and silent. Unusually careless.

Next came feeding: bread with jam. He didn't correct her slouched, puppy-like posture.

No punishment came—just jam-smeared bread.

She was starving, yet...

Lilitha didn't open her mouth. She hesitated, then stood slowly. She took the torn bread piece from his hand.

"Master, eat." She held it out, her stunning eyes locked on his dark ones beneath his bangs.

This was her first time staring at him like this.

She saw confusion. Sorrow. Exhaustion. Forced strength.

Too young to name the emotions, she felt his weariness.

The bright red jam—like her eyes—made Rogue's heart skip.

*The owner, cared for by his pet.*

The manor's demon hound never showed such concern.

Rogue pursed his lips, shook his head, and handed the bread back. He adjusted her posture gently, then fed her.

"Don't worry. I'm fine." He took a deep breath, forcing energy into his voice.

Lilitha slowly ate the bread he offered.

*So much better than that big Number One thing!* she thought happily.

She didn't realize this jam and bread were made by Puppet Number Two—identical in taste and craft.

After feeding, Rogue stood to leave. He was back, but needed to report to Aria.

As he stepped away, Lilitha grabbed his sleeve.

"Master..." Her voice was soft and pleading.

She wanted him to stay and sleep with her, like last time. Without him, she'd barely slept day or night.

Hesitation flickered in Rogue's eyes. He shook his head. "I'll come tomorrow morning."

He patted her head and left.

Darkness swallowed the warehouse again. Wrapped in her blanket, Lilitha no longer looked afraid.

She glanced toward the clock and closed her eyes, content.

*Tomorrow morning, Master will come as always.*

Outside, Rogue tidied his room. As expected: messy hair with crimson-streaked bangs, prickly stubble, dark circles screaming exhaustion.

Like a man twice his age.

Ten minutes later, freshly changed, he reached the manor gate. A demon waited respectfully.

"Lord, good evening," Chegos greeted.

Rogue recognized him—the one who'd left blood everywhere during last treatment. "You again. What is it?"

Chegos bowed. "Lord Kurero sends word: rest tonight. Report to the castle tomorrow noon. Lady Aria's orders."

"I understand." Rogue exhaled. Sleep was all he craved now.

After a quick exchange, Rogue wandered to the chained demon hound. Normally, it ignored him like a spoiled lord—only wagging its tail at feeding time.

Now, smelling Rogue's blood, its eyes glowed red. It snarled, straining to bite.

*Nothing like Lilitha.*

Rogue shook his head and returned to his room.

*Sleep. Tomorrow, I feed Lilitha at dawn.*