“Lord Lecherly, to spare you from future hauntings by evil spirits, please allow me to cast a blessing spell upon you.”

“G-good…”

The method of *“rendering him impotent”* was effective—but far from subtle enough to avoid suspicion.

Knowing recording or surveillance magic might still be active, Aelia feigned sincerity, politely asked Count Lecherly’s permission, and began casting a fresh wave of holy light to fine-tune his condition.

The impotence had to remain—lasting years, even a decade. Language skills could return to normal. Other drive-related faculties? Set to seventy percent first, then gradually restored over a month. Just enough to avoid raising eyebrows.

Yet Aelia felt uneasy. Lecherly hadn’t repented. Her punishment merely prevented future crimes. For a man already surrounded by wives and children, it was hardly a true loss.

Worse—he’d lived lavishly for years, flaunting the very “tool” she lacked to indulge in decades of debauchery… The more she thought, the more unbalanced she felt.

*A beautiful girl’s revenge isn’t late after ten or fifteen days…*

In the end, Aelia resolved: wait until suspicion faded, then let the count’s mansion face its due.

“Lord Lecherly—by the way, does this room have a hidden chamber?”

Having finished the blessing adjustments, Aelia asked with feigned curiosity.

Even with drugged incense in play, confronting the Saintess alone was reckless. Aelia doubted he’d be *that* foolish.

And his inconsistent behavior was a glaring loophole. She’d already planned to drag out the watcher inside and give them a little “purification magic” surprise.

Sure enough, Lecherly nodded. After fumbling with a decorative vase, the far wall slid smoothly right—revealing a hidden space of about ten square meters.

Empty.

*(He actually came alone?)*

Aelia blinked in surprise—then noticed the warm teacup on the hidden room’s table. Someone had been here moments ago. Gone via teleportation? A secret passage?

Her heart sank.

Lecherly was at fault, yes—but *she* had cast a mind-affecting spell. If he’d preserved evidence… Aelia dared not finish the thought.

“Lord Lecherly, was anyone here earlier?” she asked again, voice light.

“George? John? Mike?”

Lecherly tilted his head slightly, eyes blank as he muttered names.

*(Oh no—mental confusion.)*

Aelia inwardly panicked. Her spell wasn’t true mind magic; side effects were common.

*(Only this shaky clue to go on… Damn it, all that damn Hero’s fault!)*

Gritting her teeth, she guided the count out.

The moment Aelia stepped beyond the threshold—

A guard with vacant eyes flickered into existence inside the empty chamber.

“Huh? Who am I? Where am I? What was I doing?”

After a long pause:

“Ah! I remember! His Lordship ordered me to guard the Saintess and himself. They vanquished the evil spirit and left—everything’s fine!”

…

“Your Highness Aelia! Are you alright? Did that man do anything to you?”

Unlike Luke, who played oblivious, Elise had distrusted Lecherly from the start. The moment the guiding servant detoured, she knew Aelia was the target.

She raced back—only to find Aelia gone.

Questioning the mansion staff yielded only evasions. Frantic, she searched room by room while servants deliberately hindered her.

Just as fury threatened to boil over—Aelia returned, unharmed.

Forgetting decorum, Elise rushed forward, scanning Aelia head to toe.

“Elise, I’m fine… Sorry to worry you.”

Though troubled by the vanished voyeur, Aelia’s face held no shadow of distress—only her usual gentle warmth.

“As long as Your Highness is safe.”

Relief washed over Elise. Then she whirled, glaring at Count Lecherly. His expression was cold, stripped of all lecherous traces. *She understood instantly.*

*(As expected of Your Highness Aelia.)*

Unlike that hesitant pink-haired one, Elise believed: anyone who dared harm Aelia deserved death.

That he still lived—merely addled—was mercy only *this* Saintess would show.

Another Saintess? He’d be torn apart, corpse fed to dogs.

*Question the Saintess’s methods?*

Pah! You who blame the victim instead of the criminal—*you* dare judge?

If you’re so brave, stand by and let evil run wild!

Truth was, Luke fully agreed with Elise’s justice.

But *someone else* didn’t.

Even after Luke’s delayed return, that despicable pink-haired one kept frantically searching for the voyeur—acting *exactly* like the guilty party.

…Which, for Luke, was convenient.

“Your Highness Aelia, Miss Elise—see you another day.”

Luke took his leave the moment they exited the mansion.

“Lord Luke, farewell.”

Elise bowed respectfully.

She held no blame toward the innocent Luke—only mild disappointment. The plan to leave him alone with Aelia was canceled.

But she hadn’t *let him off*. Already, she’d drafted a curriculum: *How to Properly Protect Your Partner*. Textbooks included.

No wonder Luke fled so fast.

Dealing with Elise was fine—but *practicing* the lessons? He had zero desire to protect *that* pink-haired nuisance. (Who clearly didn’t need protecting anyway.)

After the “Hero” pretended to leave, turned invisible, and tailed them, the two women reached the palace quarters safely.

As Elise departed for maid duties, a guard approached.

“Your Highness the Saintess—a guard from Count Lecherly’s retinue left this letter for you.”

Aelia’s pulse jumped. She accepted it with a serene smile.

“Thank you.”

Once the flustered guard vanished, she hurried to her chamber, sealed it with protective wards, and opened the letter.

No surprise awaited.

*[If you don’t want that incident exposed… come see me tonight.]*