*Riiip—*

Suran ripped the tape from Elsa’s mouth and removed the blindfold covering her eyes.

“Miss Elsa.”

Suran murmured softly, her voice low and eerie. “Is it alright to address you this way?”

Elsa frowned tightly at the unfamiliar yet stunning woman before her. “I don’t know you. We have no grudges between us.”

“It’s normal you don’t know me,” Suran replied. “But ‘no grudges’? That’s debatable.” Leaning close to Elsa’s ear, she whispered coldly, “You… took something that doesn’t belong to you.”

A bone-chilling dread seized Elsa. An icy shiver surged from her toes straight to her scalp. She swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know what you’re— Hiss!!”

Before she could finish, Suran’s slender fingers traced her skin and pressed directly onto the wound on her abdomen. Elsa sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ll give you one more chance to rephrase, Miss Elsa,” Suran murmured. “Otherwise, I can’t promise how much this wound might hurt.”

“I truly don’t know what you’re talking about!” Elsa insisted. Without hesitation, Suran pressed her finger against the wound and slowly, deliberately dragged it across—like stitching a seam.

Elsa gritted her teeth at first, but soon cried out: “It hurts!!”

As second-in-command of the Holy Flame Order, Elsa had endured rigorous interrogation training. Ordinary methods wouldn’t break her.

But Suran was different.

The pain she delivered was precise—never excessive, never trivial. Perfectly calibrated.

And that precise pain often twisted into… pleasure.

“Ha… ha… it hurts… so much…”

After two rounds, Elsa panted heavily, her face flushed with mingled agony and ecstasy. She was already lost.

Suran sighed inwardly. *Are today’s female knights really this… unrestrained?*

Truth was, it was all Lyasis’s doing.

Suran’s ability to craft that “perfectly calibrated pain” had been personally honed by Lyasis over eight years.

Now, a problem loomed: in Elsa’s current state, answers were impossible.

“Sigh… I only used this method to save truth serum,” Suran muttered, pulling out the vial. “What a waste of time.”

She shoved the serum into Elsa’s mouth, tilted her chin up, and poured it down with loud gulps.

*Mmm! Mmm—*

“Now answer me. Where did you move the Lait Magic Crystal… Hmm?”

Suran paused. Elsa wasn’t hypnotized like Lyasis had been. Her expression remained unchanged.

*What… is happening?*

Suran’s mind reeled. The serum looked identical—no issue there.

*Could it only work on demons?* Unlikely. Black Hare would’ve warned her.

*Unless… this truth serum was a dud from the start?*

A chilling thought struck her.

Black Hare’s potion formulas came from an old witch years ago. As races evolved, ancient potions either became priceless relics… or expired.

Suran recalled the thousand battles against the Nightmare Queen. Black Hare, the ultimate BUFF support, sometimes smashed potions that did nothing. Back then, Suran blamed beta bugs.

Now? *She’s been holding duds all along.*

And if the formula was obsolete… every batch Suran made was doomed to fail.

*Did Miss Lyasis… pretend to be hypnotized? And willingly tell me everything?*

Suran’s pupils trembled. Only two possibilities:

1. Lyasis lied—the crystal couldn’t send her home.

2. Lyasis saw through the drugging… and chose to cooperate.

Neither felt real.

If Lyasis wanted to keep her, why fabricate a portal myth? Why risk Suran leaving forever?

And why would the woman who once held her completely suddenly surrender the truth?

“Miss… what were you truly thinking…?”

Lyasis’s image flickered in Suran’s mind. Confusion tightened her chest. A faint ache bloomed where her heart felt softest.

But.

She’d come this far. She’d find the crystal herself. Verify the truth. Solve Lyasis’s puzzle.

*Huff… hah… huff…*

Suran rubbed her brow, took slow breaths, and fixed Elsa with a steady gaze.

“You framed Plamia, didn’t you?”

Elsa snapped out of her haze instantly.

Suran smirked. “Works better than truth serum.”

“You—”

“I don’t care about your faction’s squabbles,” Suran cut in. “But holding this trump card and not using it? What a waste.”

“…The crystal. I hid it on Plamia. She’s imprisoned in a secret chamber in the palace. Only I know where it is. If you keep quiet, I can take you—”

Suran turned and walked away.

“Hey! What does this mean!? You promised to keep my secret if I told you—” Elsa’s voice cracked, fading into a whisper.

“Miss Elsa,” Suran said without turning. “Did I ever say ‘deal’ or ‘promise’? Not a single word. You were just scared… and spilled everything.”

One probing basic attack—and Elsa had blown her Flash and ultimate.

Suran wouldn’t bargain with a woman polished on the surface, venomous beneath.

“Farewell, Miss Elsa.”

She cast a lingering glance at the empty serum bottle, tossed it aside, shoved the cellar door open, and vanished.

Outside erupted in shouts:

“Whoa!! Someone just came out of the cellar!”

“When did she get in?! Stop! Don’t run!!”

“Wait… someone’s still inside?! …Is that Lady Elsa?!”

Patrons peered down. Seeing Elsa bound in the corner, they froze.

“Don’t look at me! You idiots! DON’T LOOK!!”

Elsa twisted uselessly in her restraints, face burning with shame and fury.