"Lyasis! You, you..."

The Infernal Demon Princess, long ignored as if invisible, pointed at Lyasis—words forming on her lips. But the moment Suran’s gaze settled on her, every syllable vanished down her throat.

"To be honest," Suran rose with poised grace, offering the Infernal Demon Princess a refined maid’s curtsy, "I still haven’t learned the true purpose of your visit to the Crimson Garden. Would you kindly clarify?"

"Ahem! Listen closely now." Xiaxia puffed her chest slightly—though the tight leather straps barely hinted at any curve—and addressed Suran. "Let me reintroduce myself: I am Xia Xiasiluote, noble princess of the Infernal Demon Clan, an old friend of Lyasis. Call me Xiaxia. I’ve journeyed far to propose a trade with her."

"Don’t call us *old friends*," Lyasis cut in coolly. "We’ve met exactly three times—at the Grand Demon Conclave. Don’t pretend we’re close."

Suran nodded thoughtfully. *No wonder Night Raven introduced her merely as Lyasis’s "acquaintance," not "friend."*

"Oh, Lyasis dear~ You’ve got no friends anyway, so just let me be your—"

"Guest," Suran interjected gently yet firmly, "please mind your words."

"O-oh… sorry…" Xiaxia’s voice dropped instantly. She scrambled to redirect. "N-never mind that! Maid-san, you clearly hold weight here. Since Lyasis won’t listen… would *you* hear me out?"

Suran glanced at Lyasis, who gave no reaction—silent consent.

"If it concerns the trade terms," Suran said, "please proceed."

"I bet you haven’t heard: the 'Earth’s Core' is growing unstable," Xiaxia leaned in, voice hushed with drama. "Hordes of demons will surge forth… and a mighty ancient demon may awaken. And *our* Infernal Demon Clan can pinpoint its exact location."

"Hmm… And?" Suran asked.

"Huh?! Wait—you’re *not* interested?!" Xiaxia blinked, then slammed both palms on the table, nearly launching herself upward. "It’s an *ancient demon*! Buried with all the weapons and gear of fallen challengers! Get the coordinates, strike first when it wakes—you’ll claim *all* the gold and loot it drops!"

"I see. A compelling offer indeed," Suran mused. No adventurer would dismiss such a prize: glory, fame, and spoils beyond measure.

"And what does the Crimson Garden provide in return?"

"Three days of darkness! Just three!" Xiaxia repeated.

"And what purpose would this darkness serve?" Suran’s eyes narrowed slightly, tone measured.

"Truth is," Xiaxia sighed, "our clan’s leadership shifts soon—between me and my elder brother. Father chose *combat* to decide! He’s all brawn, no brains. No sane soul trusts him to lead… yet I can’t beat him." She leaned closer. "But he fears the dark. Infernal flames light the night—but not darkness woven by the Night Demon Clan. With three nights of true blackness… I might win."

Suran fell silent. Granting darkness meant the Crimson Garden interfering in another clan’s succession. If *she* acted alone as an assassin—fine. But invoking Night Demon power? That was the Night Demon Clan stepping in. Eternal neutrality was Lyasis’s creed. And that very stance left her friendless: friendship, in this world, meant choosing sides.

"Miss Xia," Suran said calmly yet firmly, "on my lady’s behalf, I must decline."

"Your offer is generous. Few would ignore the 'coordinates,' and your sincerity is clear."

"But the Crimson Garden and House Virellete uphold neutrality. We do not intervene in other clans’ internal struggles. We hope you understand."

Every word was precise, courteous, unshakable—honoring Xiaxia’s dignity while sealing the boundary. Xiaxia flushed, too flustered to argue further. Had Lyasis spoken, she’d have pushed back. But Suran? Impossible. Though a maid, though treating her as a guest, Xiaxia felt not a hint of condescension—only the quiet weight of absolute authority. *That’s why Lyasis sent her…*

"O-okay… What a pity," Xiaxia murmured.

"Shall I see you out, Miss Xia?"

"N-no! Absolutely not!" Xiaxia shuddered, her demon tail bristling upright. *Does "see you out" mean what I think it means?!* "I’ll leave on my own!"

And with that, she vanished from the Crimson Garden in a flash.

Once the Infernal Demon Princess was gone, Suran felt a tiny, mischievous nudge against her back—a black-stockinged foot, light as a whisper.

"Whose little kitten is being naughty now?" Suran turned, cradling Lyasis’s foot with a tender smile.

Outside eyes gone, they slipped back into their familiar rhythm. And Suran knew: after this brief parting and reunion, Lyasis would grow even more spoiled.

"Suran," Lyasis murmured, eyes half-lidded, a soft smile playing on her lips, "I’ve decided. One last preparation… then we set off. Let’s begin our adventure."

Suran understood. It wasn’t the ancient demon itself that called to Lyasis. Nor the gold or gear it might drop.

Together, they symbolized something deeper.

What truly drew Lyasis was the unknown waiting on the road ahead—the thrill of "peril," the promise of "wonder."