"My dear, it's time for your medicine!"

Silphiel's pretty face flushed slightly as she carried a steaming bowl of alchemical potion to the bedridden man.

As a transmigrator, she had once been male in her previous life. Now, she was Silphiel, the Holy Maiden of the Church. The Hero before her was her lover of five years—a bond forged through shared battles and near-death experiences. They had grown deeply attached. Perhaps she had let go of her past identity, truly falling for him.

Yet, in the final battle that decided the world's fate, the Hero slew the Demon King. But the Demon King's dying blow cursed him with an incurable illness. A month had passed since then. His condition worsened daily, despite the Holy Maiden's devoted care. Divine Arts were useless now. Only alchemists' potions remained, but everyone knew they were a drop in the bucket.

Silphiel set down the bowl and gently lifted the Hero. He coughed violently, a trace of blood at his lips. Gazing at his lover, his eyes grew dreamy.

Silphiel was stunningly beautiful. Her golden hair shone like sunlight, soft and radiant. Her porcelain skin glowed like polished jade. Her clear, aqua-blue eyes reflected the Hero's pale face. Who could believe this savior of the Twati Continent looked so frail and ghostly now?

"...I'm useless," Gao Ying rasped. "All those Divine Arts, all the alchemists' drugs—nothing helps. I'm beyond saving."

Before he finished, Silphiel pressed a slender finger to his lips, her delicate brows furrowing. "Don't say that. Remember our promise?"

"After defeating the Demon King, when peace returns... we'll marry in your hometown."

"So—" She clasped his cold hand, fingers interlacing, and smiled softly. "I won't allow such talk. This is the last potion this month. The master said it only works after finishing it." Her eyes held a flicker of hope.

Gao Ying nodded. He understood his future wife: never give up while hope remained. That was how their Hero party survived five years. But as he reached for the bowl, his hand trembled. He couldn't even hold it—the liquid nearly spilled. His eyes darkened with despair. His illness had deepened.

Silphiel sighed softly. She glanced at Gao Ying, her cheeks flushing. Then she gulped the potion and kissed him deeply. He gasped, pupils shrinking in shock.

They parted reluctantly after a long moment. Silphiel wiped her mouth, blushing. "Special service. No repeats!"

*No repeats indeed. This was the final 'medicine'*, she thought. Her lips curled into a twisted smile. Warmth in her gaze cooled, hardening into disgust.

Gao Ying saw the shift. Confusion turned to searing pain in his chest. He opened his mouth, spewing blood, and collapsed off the bed.

The Holy Maiden stared coldly at the dying Hero sprawled like a dead dog. Her past tenderness vanished like a lie. Sunlight streamed through the window behind her, wind tousling her golden hair. Her face lay shadowed.

"Finally... it worked. A whole month of 'medicine'... poison. I killed you. The Demon King was a monster—but you, Hero, were the worst monster of all!" Her crimson lips twisted into a cruel, ecstatic grin.

Dying, Gao Ying stared wide-eyed. How could his lover become a stranger? Where was her famed kindness? Her gentle warmth? Her mad eyes held none of it.

"Five years... I planned this for five years. I acted as your lover for five years. It's over." Silphiel laughed, head thrown back—crazed, yandere, drunk on triumph. "Do you know how I survived those years?" Her chest heaved with excitement, face flushed. She'd waited so long! Five endless years!

Pretending affection for this disgusting "Hero" had warped her soul. Only by using him to slay the Demon King could she boost her own prestige. Only then could she pave her path to the continent's throne. Men were simple: dangle vague affection, and they'd imagine love, becoming puppets and lapdogs. A few perks kept them hooked.

Still, this Hero was vile. From his summoning, he'd leered at her with gross intentions. Watching him writhe now filled her with glee. She stomped hard on his skull, grinding it down. Her face flushed with victorious pleasure. The pent-up thrill was so intense, she felt a strange heat between her legs.

"—The Holy Maiden shall be the Hero's lover."

Ridiculous prophecy. Silphiel defied labels. She chose her own life. With the Hero's help, her path was clear. Next: seize the Papacy with her fame. Her perfect future awaited—one without a "Hero."

"...Silphiel... was it all a lie?" Gao Ying whispered with his last breath.

"Yes. A lie. And know this: others wanted you dead too. No one ever saw you as a comrade." At the doorway, his former party members stood in a line, watching coldly. No one moved to help.

"Rot in hell," Silphiel spat. "Regret your stupidity there!"

"Silphiel... this won't end here—"

"Pitiful whining," she sneered. "A dead dog can't cheat death with rebirth perks. Dream on." She plunged a Divine Art-infused dagger into his heart without hesitation. Blood splattered her pristine face, making her look monstrous.

The Hero died. Officially, his wounds proved fatal. Silphiel used her fame as his comrade to stage a coup. She marched up a blood-soaked red carpet, the Pope's severed head in hand, toward the divine throne of the continent's sovereign.

From the throne, she gazed down. Holy Knights and bishops knelt in terrified silence. This was her ending.

At twenty-two, she'd played the pure, gentle Holy Maiden for over a decade. The Pope's obedient pawn for over a decade. The Hero's devoted, marriage-worthy sweetheart for five years. Now, she was finally herself.

Smirking, she prepared her coronation speech—when a knock rapped her skull.

Fury surged. Who dared disrespect the new Pope? "You're dead!" she snarled.

The scene blurred. An old, wrinkled face loomed—undoubtedly wicked. Pope Gregory stared at her, bewildered.

"What did you say, Silphiel? How could you fall asleep during the 'Hero Summoning' ritual?"

Silphiel jolted awake. Golden light blazed from the summoning circle as bishops chanted. This scene felt familiar...

Ah. Autumn, Continental Year 776. Under Demon Race invasion pressure, the Holy See summoned a Hero from another world.

*Just a dream*, she realized. *But so long... so real.* She focused on the circle as ordered.

*May the Hero be a pitiable, lovely girl!* Then, Holy Maiden and Hero snuggling—yuri blossoms blooming! What a blissful, heart-fluttering future. Silphiel clasped her hands, praying eagerly.

Reality struck hard, slapping the Holy Maiden's hopes aside.