Lilithia was stationed at the border—a fact that needed emphasis. Beyond warfare, the borderlands harbored other hidden darknesses.

Like merchants trafficking goods in the shadows.

The Tulip Empire often seemed like a sucker. Why? It lacked any standout products—yes, the empire held no technological monopolies. Its uniqueness lay in potent magics, but those couldn’t be traded as commodities. Even sold as scrolls, they risked being reverse-engineered. Certain spells stayed locked in expert hands.

Bloodline gear was one such monopoly the empire guarded fiercely.

Of course, exposing this would make the empire seem ungrateful in many nations’ eyes. The Tower of Sages’ radiance illuminated the world like a pearl. Such gear was strictly forbidden by the Tower.

*One Saint and they get cocky.*

Many awaited the Tower’s sanctions against the Tulip Empire.

Not yet, though. Nations even helped cover it up—for now, the empire hadn’t deployed these weapons widely. Denying all responsibility was easy. After all, Sages were rigid rule-followers. Their greatest flaw? Being *too* rule-bound.

Even if the Tower acted now, they’d only arrest the newly dubbed "Blood Viscount"—a pointless gesture. Besides, the Tower was stretched thin elsewhere.

To outsiders, Lilithia was a small fish: the empire’s sacrificial pawn.

Some had seen her orders. They couldn’t deny her forging skills. Business boomed.

Crucially—she only needed blood.

Half her payment for imperial gear came in blood. While fulfilling Tulip Empire contracts, she also sold ordinary staves to others.

Simple designs. She knew staves like Verutan’s would sell—but she refused to craft them.

No interest.

People were mere NPCs to her: customers, officials, rivals. All flowed past like water. She only extracted necessary resources.

As long as the transaction served its purpose, that was enough.

Lilithia was swamped.

Since arriving in this world, she’d never been this busy. Hammering steel from dawn till dusk, absorbing delivered blood before collapsing into sleep—only to rise and forge again at sunrise.

A corporate drone’s life. Yet strangely fulfilling. She felt herself growing stronger by the day. Wealth and status climbed steadily.

Returning to her village now, she’d make her family proud. Even her remarried mother could hold her head high, safe from bullying in her old age.

Lilithia remembered her mother’s life being happy before she left.

She thought this frenzy would be brief—

But it lasted until her twelfth birthday in this world.

Twelve years old.

She no longer looked twelve. Her body blossomed like a sixteen-year-old’s—radiant, magnetic.

A flower in full bloom.

That day, she received birthday wishes. And a marriage proposal.

Staring at a man whose face held no place in her memory, she frowned. "I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know you. And your proposal? I must refuse."

"Lilithia, forgive me. I know you’re young—too young to wed. But my love is real. I’ve seen your strength, your resilience."

"*Stalker?* Or have you been investigating me behind my back?" Her voice turned icy. "Frankly, I despise your type. Or let me be brutally honest: I’m a pathetically base woman who worships money and power. If you were the great Sun Sword Saint? I’d offer myself without hesitation. Are you him?"

The stranger’s face froze in shock. He hadn’t expected such blunt honesty.

"The Sun Sword Saint’s greatness is beyond mortals like me. A blessing the Tulip Empire earned over centuries. I’d never compare myself to him."

"Then why are you here? If you have an order, I’ll take it. Otherwise, leave."

He fled, trying to keep his dignity—but his retreat was undeniably clumsy.

*Hmph.* By tomorrow, rumors of her being a gold-digging slut would spread. She didn’t care.

Like gaming, she sometimes deliberately unlocked "villain" achievements. A ruined reputation meant little.

After all, the Tulip Empress’s trust wasn’t based on her fame.

*Speaking of which…* Lilithia suddenly recalled Fiore mentioning the Empress’s lifespan nearing its end. *Would she die in a few months?*

Her prediction was correct.

Days later, the Tulip Empress began her border tour.

Guarded by the Sword Saint, she traveled the empire’s every major city. One day per stop. Inspecting livelihoods. Meeting citizens.

Outsiders saw this as the Empress’s proudest moment since founding the empire—a tour to silence dissent before foreign wars. A tour where blood would flow.

Blood *would* flow. Dissent *would* be silenced—but not for war.

It was to pave the way for Verutan. As crowds eagerly awaited a glimpse of their ruler, Lilithia tasted bittersweet sorrow in the air.

Yes, she cleared Verutan’s path. But wasn’t this also a final, lingering gaze at the nation she’d carried to glory?

Like earning a fortune after a lifetime of labor—only to realize you’re dying with no one to leave it to. A profound tragedy.

*Immoral as it is to think…* Since the Empress was touring—Fiore would come too, right?

*Months since I last saw him.* His swordsmanship must have deepened. But the Holy Maiden hadn’t reappeared. What happened between him and that loli, Luna?

Lilithia suspected the Holy Maiden had already fallen into Luna’s grasp—dragged into abyssal depths by that ancient mind.

No girl could resist ideological corruption from someone who’d lived centuries. Not even Lilithia could guarantee immunity. Let alone Bernadette. Saint or not, she was still just a girl. Just human.

*This reunion might go terribly.* Lilithia rubbed her temples.

Fiore’s harem might target—or outright persecute—her. And Fiore himself? That worried her most.

If she were Luna, she’d plant doubts in Fiore’s mind. That suitor today? Probably Luna’s puppet. Twist facts. Use cunning words. Make Fiore question her. Then stage an "accident" when he arrives…

*Disgusting.*

She hoped Luna wouldn’t stoop so low. But the trap was likely already set.

Silently, Lilithia returned to her room.

Gathering materials, she activated her self-created magic after months of silence.

**"Human Transmutation!"**

Last time, her clone looked nothing like her—and carried a drop of the Demon King’s blood. That clone might have developed its own will. This time was different. She forged an exact duplicate.

Risk mitigation was essential.

Against someone like Luna—who might loop through time—complacency meant death. Luna knew one path to truth. Lilithia needed countless paths to deception.

*No "true heart" events triggered around Fiore. Not a single one.*

She made another identical clone.

*Better safe than sorry.* One clone wasn’t enough against Luna’s schemes. Honestly, she hated crafting her own face—it felt eerie. Like one day, *she’d* be replaced.

Afterward… Lilithia vanished. One clone absorbed blood in her room. Another hid nearby, posing as the original. She slipped into the forest, magically reinforcing a basement underground.

*Safety first.*

She severed all links to her clones. Only their destruction would alert her.

This was the best she could do. She prayed her fears were wrong.

Because if they weren’t?

*This would get messy.*