Her eyes opened to the flickering glow of dim torches, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

Strange, incomprehensible magic circles adorned the stone surfaces.

This was the scene that met Silphiel’s gaze as consciousness returned. An unbearable thirst gripped her throat. She tried to move—but her limbs refused to obey. The cold bite of metal against her skin jolted her fully awake.

Thick, heavy chains coiled tightly around her wrists and ankles. The slightest struggle only made them tighten further.

Worse still, she hung suspended in midair—a humiliating position.

Her shattered armor had been stripped away. Tattered undergarments left swathes of bare skin exposed to the chill air.

*Huh. A little cold.*

She attempted to channel Divine Art—but the deity remained silent. These chains clearly suppressed divine power.

“Don’t bother struggling. These chains were specially forged by Heretics. Your instructor Shirley left them for you.”

“Taking a direct hit from Rodrika’s Holy Sword and still alive? Silphiel… are you even human?”

Silphiel turned toward the voice. Gao Ying sat at a nearby table, draped in an unfamiliar black cloak. His elbows rested on the wood, fingers interlaced. His gaze held a chilling indifference—utterly unlike his usual self.

“G-Gao Ying? What are you doing here?”

Shock flooded her as memories surged back: Rodrika’s blade cleaving into her, then—

Her pupils contracted sharply. The last thing she’d seen was a mysterious cloaked figure. *Him.*

Rodrika and he were allies!

In a flash, everything clicked into place.

“Gao Ying, don’t joke! We’re comrades!” Silphiel’s mind raced. She’d only *planned* to strike Rodrika—not actually done it. No one had witnessed her kill Lelia.

*Play innocent!*

“Did those Heretics poison your mind? Their words are lies! They twist hearts with deceit!”

Gao Ying remained unmoved, his cold stare fixed on her. Sweat beaded on Silphiel’s forehead.

“…Gao Ying, don’t let those vile Heretics deceive you! Release me—I’ll act like nothing happened!”

Gao Ying sighed quietly. “Comrades? Silphiel… did you ever truly see me that way? Or was I just a pawn to discard after use?”

Terror seized her. *How could he know? I told no one!*

“Gao Ying, what nonsense is this? Am I really that kind of person? Did Heretics—or Lelia—slander me to you?”

“Stop lying. I know exactly what you think, Silphiel.”

He stepped forward, gripped her chin, and forced her to meet his burning eyes. “‘The Holy Maiden is the Hero’s beloved’—you fabricated that absurd divine prophecy. You dangled affection just out of reach, making me believe you loved me. You turned me into your loyal dog. Don’t deny it, Silphiel!!”

He roared her name.

His eyes blazed—hate, longing, and unyielding resolve swirling within.

Silphiel’s lips trembled, but no words came. The depth of emotion in his gaze stunned her. *Is this really Gao Ying?*

It felt bottomless.

*What had he endured? What happened when I wasn’t watching?*

She knew denial was useless. This man would never listen.

Silphiel lowered her eyelids. After a moment of silence, a near-hysterical laugh escaped her.

“How did you figure it out? You always seemed so… simple.”

A cold smile spread across her face as she stared at him. “Yes. As the Hero, you were merely a tool to achieve my goals. What else does one do with a used pawn but discard it?”

Gao Ying’s eyes held only disappointment—toward her, and himself.

He realized he couldn’t bring himself to truly hate her.

Five years. Not long, not short. They’d traveled the continent together, fighting Demon Race, purging Heretics, clearing the Witch Forest.

They’d braved the frozen northern wastes, huddled for warmth in a tree hollow during blizzards.

At campfires under starry skies, they’d shared stories with companions while an elf bard played melodies.

When comrades fell, it was her gentle hand and soothing words that steadied him.

Time and again, her warmth had given him courage to defy despair.

Five years of life-and-death bonds. He’d believed he’d found irreplaceable ties in this strange world.

He never imagined betrayal would be his reward.

Memories flashed—then froze on Silphiel’s cold, superior gaze.

That glacial stare froze every warm moment they’d shared.

All of it… lies.

“Silphiel… have you ever given your heart to anyone?”

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “I don’t even *have* a heart. How could I offer truth? Kill me, Gao Ying, and the Pope won’t let this go—”

“No. The Pope might thank me… for exposing a spy.”

Gao Ying tested the waters. “Silphiel. You can use magic, can’t you?”

Her expression didn’t flicker. “Shirley told you that? Trust her, and you’ll die not knowing how.”

*This secret must stay buried.* Her transformation ability was absolute—if she didn’t activate it, no one could detect it.

*Gao Ying trusts Shirley more.*

In his past life, Shirley hadn’t escaped the Imperial City. She’d been captured covering Heretic comrades’ retreat—surrounded by Silphiel, Grace, and the Knighthood captain.

Before her execution, Gao Ying had met her once.

*“Beware Silphiel. She’s not the pure soul you believe.”*

He hadn’t listened then.

If only he’d trusted her a little more… thought a little deeper… his fate might have been different.

But since Silphiel denied it, Gao Ying dropped the subject. It wasn’t crucial now.

“Rodrika. Ask what you need. I promised you that much.”

“Yes, Hero-sama.”

Only then did Silphiel notice the other presence in the room.

Rodrika’s usual naive expression was gone.

*This woman’s an even better actress than I am!*

“…That sword strike hurt,” Silphiel muttered. The wound seemed healed, but the pain lingered—along with the shame of being felled mid-transformation sequence.

“My apologies. It was instinctive retaliation. My survival demanded it.” Rodrika’s tone was matter-of-fact. Silphiel frowned.

Rodrika’s gaze sharpened. “Tell me what you witnessed in the Papal Hall six years ago.”

*If the Heretics spoke true… if Father still lives… what really happened that day?*

She needed to know.

Silphiel snorted. “Why should I tell you?”

Rodrika’s smile turned innocent. “Do you believe you have a choice?”

As the words fell, searing pain exploded through Silphiel’s body—pain she knew too well.

“…You… made me drink…”

Rodrika glanced at Gao Ying, her eyes blazing with devotion.

“Yes. The same thing you made *me* drink.”

“…Impossible. Only I know the formula. Even the antidote is unknown to me!”

*This potion was crafted by the Witch Matriarch! The antidote isn’t even finalized yet—how could she have it?*

Rodrika touched her flushed cheek. “The Hero’s gift makes anything possible, doesn’t it?”

“Gao Ying?”

Silphiel knew Heroes were overpowered—but *this*? Creating an antidote even its creator didn’t possess?

“Enough. Refuse to answer, and I’ll ask Hero-sama to play the ‘punishment game’ again~”

*One taste of this agony is enough to break anyone.* Silphiel finally understood why those women never defied her after drinking it.

“I’ll talk…”

Swallowing her shame, Silphiel began. “When I arrived at the Papal Hall, the former Pope was already dead. Several bishops lay slain. Gregory stood with loyal bishops, confronting your father. I heard him shout—”

*“Gregory, have you gone mad!”*

She paused. “Gregory replied: *‘I’m not mad. I’ve simply awakened. Old friend… you’re the one lost in delusion.’*”

“Then came the clash. Your father lost. His guards helped him escape—but it happened too fast. He couldn’t take you with him.”

“That’s all I saw.”

She added softly, “Ah… if I recall correctly, your father was carrying a young girl as he fled. Protecting her cost him the fight against Gregory.”

Rodrika’s shoulders slumped slightly, but she didn’t press further. She stepped back, bowing to Gao Ying. “Hero-sama. I have no more questions.”

With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her. Only Gao Ying and Silphiel remained.

“Silphiel,” Gao Ying said, his voice low and final. “Now it’s time we settled our debt.”