Rodrika seemed moved. She stared blankly at Silphiel, memories of the past six years flooding back.

Labeled a traitor’s daughter, her life within the Holy See had been worse than death. Every dawn brought waves of scornful stares and venomous whispers.

Silphiel *had* saved her countless times.

Whenever bullies cornered her, Silphiel would appear, shooing them away. Then, bathed in golden light, she’d offer a gentle smile and an outstretched hand: *"Are you alright? Those brats went too far! Come to me if you need help."*

Rodrika held no ill will toward her—*at least not before she made me drink that ‘potion’—*

Otherwise, why would she have trusted Silphiel so easily?

"Then why did you make me drink that thing?" Rodrika’s voice trembled. Silphiel hid a smirk. *Perfect. This naive fool is already wavering.*

Silphiel sighed dramatically. "You think Gregory spared your life out of kindness?"

Rodrika froze.

"You’re a *hostage*, idiot!" Silphiel’s exasperation felt genuine. "As Bishop Radel’s daughter, your survival in the Holy Capital is the ultimate warning to your father! That’s why he’s vanished for six years!"

The logic was airtight. Rodrika believed it.

*So that’s why they kept me alive? I’m just… a hostage?*

Watching Rodrika’s shifting expression, Silphiel narrowed her eyes slightly. *Half-truths always work best. Pure lies crumble too easily.* She lied without blinking—years of practice made it effortless.

Seizing the moment, Silphiel pressed on: "Think, Rodrika. As the bishop’s daughter, how could that old bastard Gregory ever trust you without the ‘potion’?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, serpent-like. "Don’t worry. I have the cure. Once he lowers his guard… I’ll give it to you."

"Trust me. I’m on your side! We’ll wait for the right moment to take down that old bastard Gregory!"

Rodrika was nearly convinced. Her mind wasn’t as sharp as Silphiel’s, and the argument made perfect sense. For six years, Silphiel had been her only shield against bullies—the only one who ever defended her. If her words were true, everything fell into place.

*But Gao Ying warned me… ‘Never trust Silphiel. Reverse everything she says.’*

Yet the Silphiel Rodrika knew was gentle, kind—a radiant figure wrapped in sunlight. *Perfect.* At least, she had been… before forcing that potion down her throat.

*Who do I believe?*

Rodrika’s turmoil showed plainly on her face. Silphiel’s heart leapt. *Just keep doubting. That’s all I need.*

*Little Rodrika… so naive. So easily led.* Silphiel knew human weakness intimately. Rodrika never realized most of those "bullies" were *her* puppets, provoked to strike at just the right moment—so Silphiel could "rescue" her.

*Why?*

Rodrika was merely a prop for her flawless saintly act.

*See how the Holy Maiden treats even a traitor’s daughter with kindness? So pure. So kind-hearted.*

Silphiel savored Rodrika’s grateful, puppy-dog eyes—the urge to crush that trust thrilled her. She’d isolated Rodrika in darkness, positioning herself as the sole light… only to snuff it out someday. *Watching her shatter will be exquisite.*

Years of careful scheming had nearly unraveled when Gao Ying appeared. Obsessed with the Hero’s opinion, Silphiel had panicked. *Forcing her to drink the potion was a blunder.*

But now? The lie was mended.

*Blame everything on that rotten old man Gregory. With her father’s history? She’ll never doubt ‘the old bastard’s evil’.*

Gao Ying’s warnings didn’t matter anymore. This was enough.

"Rodrika, don’t overthink it. Just follow me." Silphiel’s voice softened. "Your father is the Goddess’s most faithful servant. Justice *will* prevail. The demon on the Holy Capital’s highest throne *will* fall."

"Together, we’ll find your father—"

"Why help me?" Rodrika bit her lip, glancing back at Silphiel.

Silphiel hesitated—just a fraction. "Bishop Radel… recognized my potential. Without him finding me at Kane’s Port years ago, I’d never have become a Holy Maiden candidate. I’m simply repaying his kindness."

*Technically true.* Radel *had* scouted candidates then—though the details were… flexible. Who remembered such old tales? Let her spin the story.

Rodrika’s doubts dissolved.

As for Stella and the others’ suffering? Rodrika barely spared it a thought. Power shifts in the Holy Capital were always bloody. Winners earned applause and glory; losers faced ruin. Silphiel sparing their lives proved her mercy!

*The ‘potion’?* Likely just insurance against former rivals. The maids’ bitter whispers—*"forced to drink drugs"*—were proof enough of their resentment.

*Could the Holy Maiden truly be worse than a demon?* Rodrika half-believed it. Anyone who climbed that high couldn’t be simple.

*But the prophecy says ‘the Holy Maiden is the Hero’s lover’… yet he seems to despise her.* Gao Ying had even told her: *"Find a chance to knock her flat! Only when she’s desperate will she reveal your father’s whereabouts."*

*He was wrong. Silphiel isn’t evil. She just told me where Father is!*

*Everyone sees her goodness. Gao Ying must have misunderstood her… twisted her into a monster in his mind.*

Rodrika sighed inwardly. *Misunderstandings really are love’s greatest barrier. Should I… help them reconcile?*

Unnoticed, they’d reached the heretics’ deepest stronghold.

Silphiel scanned the gloomy corridor—her nightmare made real. *Exactly the same. Not even a single heretic in sight.*

Ahead, a figure in heretic robes stood at the stairwell. Knights instantly drew blades, awaiting Silphiel’s command to shred the foe.

Silphiel’s gaze sharpened. Only Lelia remained—mind-controlled, soul burning. *So Shirley escaped?*

*Did my choices alter the divergence point?*

*Where is Gao Ying now? He appeared so quickly after Rodrika knocked me out… he must be near.*

*He distrusts me because I seemed too eager… or perhaps some woman scarred his past.*

*I’ll soften my act. But judging me guilty over mere suspicion? Unfair.*

A nagging unease prickled her—*something vital forgotten—*

The time rewind hadn’t restored all her memories. The most crucial truth—*Gao Ying is from five years in the future*—was gone.

"Rodrika," Silphiel ordered, blade in hand. "Handle Lelia. Alive or dead, I don’t care. I’m chasing the other one!"