In her thief persona, Aelia simply called herself “Moonshadow.” Early on, she’d bundle herself tightly in black robes and veils, hiding all traces of gender or appearance.

But as her magical disguise skills—covering face, voice, and presence—reached perfection, her confidence swelled. She began boldly revealing her “true” visage. Soon, fans tacked “Princess” onto her alias.

To Aelia, titles like “Goddess” or “Empress” better suited her peerless beauty. Yet knowing her thief form fell far short of her radiant Saintess self, she reluctantly accepted “Princess Moonshadow.”

Still, fame couldn’t elevate a thief’s status. Some spat insults: “despicable little bandit.” But Moonshadow had shifted her mindset—praise meant nothing; others’ frustration was her joy.

Now, slipping through the window, she already savored the image of that damn Hero Luke raging helplessly before a crowd.

“Who’s there?”

A familiar voice, brimming with righteous authority, echoed from the room’s depths.

“A pleasure to meet you, great Hero Luke. I am Moonshadow—here to claim your most precious possession.”

Suppressing a laugh, Aelia delivered the phantom-thief taunt in mock reverence while strutting confidently toward his shadowed form.

Click.

The magical lamp switch flipped at the room’s far end.

Darkness remained—and deepened, swallowing even the window’s faint glow.

“What did you do?”

In pitch blackness, Luke drew his sword, sweeping futilely around, face tight with vigilance.

Suddenly, he slashed right—nothing.

Then thrust low-left—another miss.

“Playing with me?”

“Exactly,” Aelia admitted freely. No more playing the obedient child. “Is *this* the famed strength of Hero Luke? How disappointing. You’re just a minnow. Hahaha!”

She laughed on. Luke took the bait, swinging wildly opposite.

“Trying to locate me by sound? So diligent… How about this?”

She snapped her fingers.

Shrill, bell-like giggles erupted from every direction—an unnerving chorus.

Luke retreated fast, seeking wall cover.

But the step disoriented him. He spun, lost, hunting a wall that wouldn’t appear.

“What scheme is this?”

Forced to halt, he panted.

“As stated: I came for your most precious thing… like your reputation.” Aelia stepped close, whispering almost into his left ear.

She dared it—within this lightless domain, she reigned absolute. He couldn’t see, sense, or touch her.

She could strip that damn Hero bare, tie him up, hang him from the window… Just the thought thrilled her.

Then—Luke turned. His sharp crimson eyes locked straight onto hers.

“Found you.”

“What…?”

Aelia stumbled back, shock flashing to fury. *My magic is flawless. Lucky guess. He’s helpless. Victory is mine.*

She stepped forward—

—and Luke’s arms seized her.

“Got you!”

Impossible!

Panic surged. She cast a repulsion spell—but a stronger magic crushed her resistance.

Outmatched, she prepared to feign tears…

Smack!

A sharp sting below tore a cry from her lips. Tears sprang to her eyes.

*He… spanked me?*

Rage ignited.

“You damn—ah!”

The second strike hit like a whirlwind—fast, precise, ruthless—cutting off her curses.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Like disciplining a bratty little thief, Luke rained spanks without pause, each blow shattering her spellcasting.

Years since anyone dared this. In her Moonshadow guise, she’d long shed the Saintess’s “enduring patience.” Painful yelps burst free.

Only when her backside burned numb did she snap awake. Magic flared—she broke free, scrambling toward the window.

“Y-You… I’ll k-kill you!”

She conjured an illusion decoy, aiming to slam him into a wall.

Luke ignored it. His steps wavered yet marched unnervingly straight toward her.

“How?! What did you *do*?!”

Aelia, rear throbbing, questioned reality itself.

“Your magic is flawless to sight and sound,” Luke stated calmly. “But against the Goddess-granted ‘Hyper Intuition’? All deception fails.”

*(Then why not use it sooner?!)*

Fuming, Aelia spun and leaped out the window.

Her thief form used under one-third power—to protect her true identity. She *could* fight… but she came to humiliate him, vent frustration. Going all out would make *her* the clown.

*Live to fight another day.* Strategic retreat.

“You’re not escaping!”

Luke lunged after her—

—and a magical barrage slammed the windowsill.

“The thief Princess Moonshadow is there! Don’t let her flee!”

Outside, the guard captain rallied troops. At the main door, more guards gathered, ready to burst in.

“Tch…” Luke shook his head.

He’d wanted to play longer with that trash Saintess. But she’d skipped disabling royal surveillance to maximize his humiliation. Now, misled guards became hindrances. *For survival and stealth alone… I’m impressed.*

Still—he wouldn’t let her go.

“Everyone, calm down! The thief fled—*that* way!”

Under Luke’s mind-soothing influence, clarity returned.

They turned.

Faces paled.

“Her Highness the Saintess is in danger!”