Inside the Heroes Guild president’s office, Sharin adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses. Her long legs, sheathed in black stockings, crossed elegantly, radiating an aura of mature allure.
She set down the magic communicator with grace. Her slender lips parted slightly.
“Damn it!”
*Playing dead?*
She really needed to meet Lena soon—Celia’s icy indifference was shattering her heart beyond repair.
Pushing the thought aside, she focused on finishing the documents on her desk. The office door suddenly swung open again, unannounced.
Annoyed, she looked up—but seeing the visitor, a smirk curled her lips. “Ah, Butler Aul. Back so soon?”
“Oh, silly me. Here for Celia again, I suppose?”
Sarcasm dripped from her words, petty yet satisfying. Why hold back now? With the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden backing her, even Aul was beneath concern.
The Fiona Clan might be one of Roshi Empire’s three great nobles, but the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden? She’d once been a councilor of the Hero Council—the strongest Hero of her era.
The Hero Council towered above human empires, governing all Heroes. The Heroes Guild was merely its subordinate branch. Roshi Empire would crumble before it; its noble families were nothing.
Even after twenty years, one call from her would rally the Council’s councilors—many were her old friends or admirers.
Aul’s eyes narrowed, noticing her changed demeanor. Unfazed, he settled onto the sofa. “She wants to be a Hero again?”
*She* meant Celia, of course.
“She volunteered. I didn’t force her. And as Guild President, I have no right to refuse her.” Sharin shrugged, washing her hands of responsibility.
Aul knew exactly why Celia had agreed this time. Leaning on his cane, he pressed, “Who’s her instructor?”
“Dorothy.”
Sharin shielded the Sword Maiden’s title. If Aul guessed the truth, so be it.
“Dorothy?” Aul frowned. The name meant nothing. None of today’s top Heroes bore it.
“Does she even know Celia is heir to the Fiona Clan?” The chance was slim, but suspicion crept in.
“Who knows?” Sharin shrugged again, feigning ignorance.
Aul snorted coldly. “*Unaware*? Then perhaps the President is overworked. Clocking such late hours… it’s time to rest. Let others handle things.”
Threats oozed from his words. This time, Sharin didn’t yield.
“I *am* tired. If you have more business, Butler Aul, let’s discuss it tomorrow.”
“Heh. That Hero must be formidable indeed—to make you so bold.” Aul rose, chuckling darkly as he strode toward the door. “Could she be a Hero Council councilor?”
“You wrong me, Butler. I’m not bold. And she’s no councilor. You overthink.”
No lie there—the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden hadn’t been a councilor for a decade. Her name was erased from the registry.
But her influence? Undimmed.
“We shall see.” Aul shot her a frigid glance, then left the office, exiting the Guild.
Sharin nearly giggled. Taunting him to his face without fear of retaliation? Bliss.
Since arriving in Vedona, Aul had treated her and every Hero like dirt. They’d seethed—but as the Fiona Clan’s steward, he was untouchable.
A small revenge. Tonight, she’d sleep soundly.
All thanks to the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden.
An image of that silver-haired figure flashed in her mind. Sharin’s fingers stroked her black-stockinged thigh, eyes glazing with quiet obsession.
---
Back at his Vedona villa, Aul’s mood soured. He’d bought this place for Celia—a residence she refused, choosing instead to live with teammates under the roof of a flower shop owner named Lena. A powerless commoner.
“Steward, the young mistress…” A servant in black livery bowed, worry etched on his face.
“I’ll meet that Hero myself tomorrow.”
“But… she shows no fear of the Fiona Clan.”
“I know. Even if she’s not Council-tier, she’s likely a Sage-tier Hero. Troublesome.”
Aul stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the gloomy sky. Sharin’s insolence revealed too much—that instructor’s status was extraordinary.
Bold enough to mock *him* with her backing? This Hero commanded respect far beyond her rank.
Taking Celia from such hands would be difficult.
“To think a backwater city like this hides a Hero of her caliber.”
His luck was rotten.
His grip tightened on the cane. A flicker of crimson flashed in his clouded eyes. Terrifying demonic energy surged—birds roosting outside shrieked, startled into flight.
A sudden gust parted his shirt. Beneath aged skin, a Demonic Mark crept up his chest.
Had Lena seen it, she’d have known: he was no human. He was Demon Race.
“Could they have discovered us?” the servant whispered.
Aul scoffed. “Humans lack that strength. And if they knew, why act like this?”
“More likely that Hero covets the young mistress’s talent. Training her as the next generation.”
After centuries among humans, he knew their limits. If his true nature were exposed, the Hero Council would send more than a Sage-tier Hero.
“But…” His voice dropped, cold and sharp. “How can a *Princess* become a Hero?”
