If time could rewind, Lilithia might never have made that deal with Fiore. The women around him were too much trouble—trouble that made her want to throw punches.

These women couldn’t truly be called "bad." In fact, those drawn to Fiore rarely had rotten hearts. They always had redeeming qualities. Take the Holy Maiden before her now.

Lilithia looked at the silver-haired woman and felt a pang of inferiority. Frankly—she *was* prettier. Lilithia knew herself well: she was a pretty girl, but no "peerless beauty." Saint Bernadette, though? She embodied the title. Her words, deeds, looks, even her power—all screamed "Holy Maiden."

Any ordinary woman would probably stutter in her presence…

But Lilithia wasn’t ordinary. Besides, this girl seemed oddly easy to bully—nothing like the yandere type she’d expected.

Their eyes held similarities. Bernadette’s were gold.

Lilithia recalled the golden blood in Fiore’s veins. *So—she’s the heroine?*

After meeting Lisanna, Lilithia doubted that woman had what it took to be a lead. If this world were a story, Lisanna might rank third or fourth heroine at best. As for herself? Just an NPC popping up in some side arc.

*This one’s the main heroine. Or at least the second lead.*

One glance confirmed it: Bernadette’s beauty was unmatched in this world, and she clearly had the makings of a Saint.

"You must be Miss Lilithia?"

A mere smile from someone of her caliber felt like a blessing. But Lilithia had steeled herself. She stayed composed. "And what could the Holy Maiden possibly want with someone as insignificant as me?"

Bernadette seemed surprised by her calm. "You act as if you expected me."

Lilithia pulled out the vial of black blood. "I collected this after Fiore’s blood clashed with a magical artifact. The moment I heard about that spell, I knew someone was setting you up. Still—sending you here anyway? Is that the Tulip Queen’s confidence… or recklessness?"

"You’re sharp."

Bernadette’s praise was genuine. This girl felt different from Luna, the little loli who followed Fiore. Luna was clever too—but not like this. Not this *kind* of clever.

"Then… may I have that?" Bernadette gestured to the vial. "I’ll purify the Demon King’s tainted blood."

Lilithia tucked it away. "Setting aside whether it’s valuable alchemy material—what’s this blood worth to *you*?"

Bernadette frowned. "A corrupting force like this is worthless."

"Really? I hear the Hero’s buying Demonfolk blood. Trades it for rare materials. Enough quantity, and he’ll even grant a favor. Sounds priceless to me."

She pocketed the vial, making no move to hand it over.

Bernadette fell silent. "...You’re right. Handled properly, it *is* valuable."

"But keeping it is dangerous, isn’t it? Demonfolk could sense it nearby. Let me purify it—turn it to ash. You’re smart. You know the risks."

Lilithia understood now. She saw exactly who this woman was.

The Church thrived in the Tulip Empire because it knew its place. It pleased the Empress. Its rules were clear: politeness, humility, order—all rooted in fighting Demonfolk.

Raised in that world, Saint Bernadette was exactly what Lilithia had pieced together.

"Can you cast magic?"

"Of course."

"Then conjure a table and two chairs. Let’s talk properly."

Bernadette nodded. For a split second, suffocating magic pressure crashed over Lilithia—then vanished like a mirage.

A stone table and two stools now stood before them.

*A power play.*

No matter how refined the upbringing, everyone needed to flex their strength first. To seize the upper hand.

*At least she’s smarter than Lisanna.* Lilithia almost sighed in relief. She’d half-expected knives before words.

She sat, instinctively reaching for a teacup that didn’t exist. *Right—my room’s destroyed. Thank gods the bunny suit wasn’t finished yet.*

Her first comment after sitting down? "A table made of stone pillars. Stools made of stone pillars." She tapped the rough surface. "With your magic, shaping these properly would’ve taken a second. But you didn’t. Why? Didn’t want to? Or… do you not even remember what real chairs in the Church look like?"

Bernadette’s brow furrowed slightly. She didn’t grasp Lilithia’s point.

A chill slithered through her—a sense of something monstrous stirring in deep water, its eyes locking onto a tiny human.

"Holy Maidens shouldn’t care about such things, right?" Lilithia cut off Bernadette’s unspoken reply. "Because you don’t *need* to. You just follow Church rules. You just *symbolize* purity. Isn’t that it?"

Bernadette opened her mouth to deny it—but couldn’t.

"I think you and Fiore had a fight." Lilithia’s gaze sharpened, as if seeing the past. "I don’t know why. But right now? He wouldn’t like you."

*Dead on.*

Without a word, this girl had stripped her bare. Bernadette felt pressure unlike any she’d known—not from power, not from aura.

She recalled Lisanna’s request before she left: *"If I ever make that wish… would you help me?"*

*What could this girl possibly do for Lisanna?* she’d wondered then.

Now, she sensed it. This girl *could* help—in ways she couldn’t yet fathom.

Bernadette closed her eyes slowly, reciting scripture in her mind. *Whoever loses calm loses control.*

"And your reason for saying that?"

"Arrogance."

A word Bernadette never imagined would describe her.

*Arrogant?*

Humility was Church doctrine. She’d treated kings and beggars alike. She’d been polite to Lilithia. Yet this girl called her *arrogant*.

"Yes. *Arrogant.* Saint Bernadette—you’re so arrogant. You think yourself kind. You think yourself humble. *That’s* arrogance."

Confusion flickered in Bernadette’s golden eyes.

Lilithia pulled out the vial again. "What would Fiore do if he saw this?"

"...I don’t know." Bernadette realized she truly didn’t.

"I’ll tell you. He’d escort me to a buyer. Make sure I sold it. Guard me while I stored or spent the money. He’d hide my identity the whole time. Understand?"

"...Yes."

"You think you’re helping—removing a Demonfolk threat. But did you ever consider what this means *to me*? A chance to change my fate. Or yes—a huge risk. But it’s *mine*. I keep it because I accept that risk. Do you see?"

"But—"

"Your ‘kindness’ isn’t kindness. It’s *your* version of goodness forced on me. Either stay out of it… or seal the Demonfolk scent. Don’t just take it to destroy. Unless—" Lilithia leaned forward, voice icy, "—you believe Demonfolk are evil by existence. Then kill me now. Burn everything here tied to them. *That’s* your justice, isn’t it? You understand now, don’t you?"

*Thoughts.*

Bernadette finally grasped the invisible weight pressing on her. It was *thought*—something she’d never considered, never imagined, yet staring her in the face.

"You treat everyone equally not because you love them equally… but because you see yourself as *above* them. Rich or poor—they’re all the same *beneath* you. Proof? You treat Fiore differently, don’t you? Your humility is arrogant humility. Your kindness is arrogant kindness. *That’s* why you’re suffering, Bernadette."

"Because Fiore sees through your mask now. If I changed anything in him? I ripped away the veils people like *you* draped over his eyes. I made him see your hypocrisy."