As Silphiel spoke, a glimmer of magic flickered in her eyes.

The potion’s effect triggered instantly. Rodrika’s face contorted in pain.

Her lips parted slightly, sweat beading on her forehead. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her fingers gripped her robe’s hem—biting back any undignified sounds.

Silphiel found herself grudgingly impressed.

She hadn’t intended to harm Rodrika. This was merely a show of dominance before questioning, a reminder of their positions.

To passing patrol knights, however, the scene held a different meaning.

Too distant to hear their words, they clearly saw the Holy Maiden pinning Rodrika against the wall in that intimate stance.

Their expressions remained neutral as they walked by.

Inside, their minds reeled. *Hadn’t the Holy Maiden always shown unusual interest in Rodrika? So it was* that *kind of attraction!*

*Is she done hiding it now? But doing this in public—how bold!*

Silphiel, oblivious to their thoughts, looked down at Rodrika. She lifted the potion’s effect. Rodrika exhaled in relief.

Rodrika answered softly, cheeks flushed: "The Hero was very gentle last night."

*Hmph.* The words reeked of shamelessness. But since Silphiel herself had ordered Rodrika to obey the Hero’s every whim, she couldn’t scold her.

She merely fixed Rodrika with a stern gaze, waiting.

Rodrika’s face turned crimson as she covered her cheeks. "The Hero cared for me. He asked me to sleep beside him."

"You agreed?"

Rodrika nodded shyly. "There was only one bed. He said if I pulled an all-night guard shift, I’d be too tired tomorrow to protect him properly."

"After thinking it over... I agreed to share his bed."

Silphiel’s unease grew.

She studied Rodrika carefully, then hesitated. "Besides sleeping... did you do anything else?"

Rodrika tilted her head, eyes wide and innocent. A giant question mark seemed to hover above her. "Sleeping means lying still to rest. What else *could* you do?"

Silphiel fell silent. Then sighed deeply.

*Perhaps I overthought it. In this age, under the Goddess’s brightest light, truly pure souls like Rodrika still exist.*

*She has no concept of... such things.*

"...Anything else unusual?"

"Only that the Hero sent me out for midnight snacks. He’s curious about our world’s food."

Silphiel nodded. All perfectly normal.

"Understood. I’ll check in with you occasionally. Keep observing the Hero’s behavior. And..."

After a long pause, Silphiel spoke firmly: "I once told you to obey the Hero’s every command. I retract that. You may grant most requests—but if he touches you inappropriately, refuse him fiercely!"

Rodrika frowned slightly, confused. "What does ‘inappropriately’ mean?"

"Simply put..."

Silphiel’s head throbbed. How to explain this to such innocence?

"Ah—if he asks you to undress, absolutely refuse!"

Rodrika nodded vaguely. Silphiel relaxed a fraction.

Just then, the dressing room door creaked open. Silphiel’s attention snapped to Gao Ying—missing the subtle shift in Rodrika’s gaze behind her.

Silphiel’s eyes lit up as she took in Gao Ying’s appearance. *Who knew this ordinary-looking Hero could look so decent with a little grooming?*

Rodrika clasped her hands to her chest, starstruck. "Hero-sama! You look like a completely new person!"

Gao Ying cleared his throat awkwardly, steering the topic away. "We shouldn’t keep His Holiness waiting."

Silphiel nodded, naturally taking Gao Ying’s hand—a possessive gesture that left no doubt about the Holy Maiden and Hero’s closeness to onlookers.

*‘The Holy Maiden shall be the Hero’s beloved’—a divine prophecy known throughout the Church.*

Rodrika trailed behind them as the trio headed toward the Papal Hall.

Silphiel murmured to Gao Ying about earlier matters, but his mind wandered. He was far more aware of her arms wrapped around his—her soft curves pressing against his upper arm, the perfect warmth of it.

Gao Ying felt no thrill. He only wished the walk would end so she’d release him.

Yet he forced himself to appear pleased. Lowering her guard was crucial to his plan. His flushed cheeks, however, betrayed him—no act could fake that heat.

Soon, they reached the Papal Hall. Silphiel finally let go, a flicker of triumph in her eyes. *He was fidgety and stiff when I held his arm. My approach is working.*

*For a Hero burdened by insecurity, humility and warmth break down walls.*

This small victory thrilled her. She could almost see the collar around the Hero’s neck.

*Next, eliminate obstacles. Like that Lindbergh girl trying to seduce him. I’ll contact my dear friend Grace—the Inquisitor General has ways to frame her.*

Silphiel guided Gao Ying inside, scheming silently.

"Gao Ying, this is the Papal Hall. Don’t be startled by the sight within."

She smiled faintly, pushing the door open. Radiance spilled forth.

The floor gleamed with semi-transparent, magic-attuned stone. Above, stained-glass windows scattered kaleidoscopic light across the hall. This glow, amplified by the special floor, bathed every corner in divine radiance.

At the far end stood a pure white marble statue of the Goddess—making the entire hall feel like a fragment of heaven on earth, dreamlike and sacred.

Silphiel smiled at Gao Ying’s awestruck expression. *No surprise. I wore that same look my first time here.*

She nudged him. He snapped to attention, stepping forward to bow to the Pope. "Apologies, Your Holiness. The Papal Hall’s beauty overwhelmed me."

Pope Gregory sat upon his throne beneath the Goddess’s statue. He chuckled warmly. "Many are stunned by this hall’s splendor. Half a century ago, I stood frozen here too, unable to move."

The Pope’s gaze turned earnest. "Hero, how did you rest on your first night among us?"