"Understood, Dark Lord."

Cecilia gave a slight bow after hearing my words.

"That Champion is the heir of an earl from the Castillia Kingdom," Cecilia stated flatly. "In truth, nearly all the initial Champions were either nobles or commoners from Castillia. It’s clear the kingdom intended to seize full control of Hawthorn’s power from the start."

"..."

Lily’s expression shifted—she’d grasped the implication instantly.

"N-no... this... you must be lying..."

Her gaze darted away as she took a step back, unwilling to accept reality.

"Nonsense. I never lie to my lovely girls," I smirked faintly. "I have *some* standards... Besides, why would we bother lying?"

I closed the distance between us, stepping right before her. "Face it. Those so-called nobles—the ruling class—are the ones who sealed your fate."

"...Why... why would they..."

"Because you slipped beyond their control."

I leaned in, giving her no room to breathe. I’d planned to wait days to reveal this, but Cecilia had spoken—and Lily had asked. No point dodging it now. "Think carefully. Such immense power, left unused? A waste. Most who knew you three centuries ago are dead or in hiding. And Hawthorn’s incarnate power... too tempting for scheming minds."

I bent slightly, my face inches from hers.

"Admit it. You’ve been abandoned by humanity’s rulers. If those fools hadn’t grown complacent and lingered, I might never have uncovered who gave the order."

"...But why..."

"Would you trust an ancient relic you barely know... or loyal subordinates who follow your rules?"

"But I am—"

"*What* are you? Castillia’s Valkyrie?" I tilted my head, pressing closer with deliberate sharpness. "Don’t be naive. Every race has civil wars. Every empire has traitors. Even great emperors lose their heads to rebels."

"..."

Lily fell silent.

"...I need to be alone."

Her voice was barely a whisper, head bowed.

"Of course."

I agreed without hesitation.

She turned away silently, trudging toward her room. Hawthorn followed after casting me a complex glance.

"Dark Lord... perhaps this wasn’t the right moment?" Cecilia murmured, watching them leave.

"No matter. It had to be said eventually." I shrugged. "You saved me the trouble of finding the right words... Cecilia, let me just—"

*THUD!*

A sharp cry tore from my throat as Cecilia executed a flawless shoulder throw. I slammed into the wall, splayed spread-eagle like a pinned insect.

In that split second, I’d lunged for her chest—only to meet the Head Maid’s impeccable reflexes. Her elbow cracked against my jaw mid-throw. A true paragon among maids.

"...Dark Lord? Are you alive?"

Ona scampered over, crouching to poke my cheek. Her skirt parted slightly as she bent, offering an unobstructed view beneath.

"...I refuse to die before copping a feel of the Head Maid’s chest."

I sniffed, eyes locked on the accidental vista.

"Let’s hope so," Cecilia replied coolly, bowing with a faint smile.

"But Dark Lord," Wuluwu interjected, glancing between me and the departed pair, "wasn’t this meant for two days from now?"

"Cecilia cut to the chase. Why delay?" I wriggled free, dropping to my feet with a flip. "I never hoped to hide it from her anyway." I dusted myself off. "Better to rip the bandage off. One less headache for me."

"Huff... Lily didn’t look well, though," Ona murmured, nuzzling my shoulder.

"She’s stronger than that. She’ll recover." I stroked my chin. "If she breaks? I’ll treat her as a toy. Hawthorn’s presence makes it worthwhile."

"Huff... How *practical* of you, Dark Lord."

"Of course. Such an investment demands returns." I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "I promised Hawthorn this body belongs wholly to Lily now. Playing with her is... optional. But I expect better than disappointment."

I exhaled sharply.

"Enough. I have duties. Wuluwu, Ona—prepare my chambers. Cecilia, with me."

"Yes, Dark Lord."

The three maids bowed in unison as I strode away, Cecilia falling into step behind me.