The library within the Witch’s Spire held a vast collection of tomes chronicling dark magic and legendary forbidden arts.

But Morningstar found no record of world-crossing spells. Her spirits plummeted to rock bottom.

“What *is* all this? Nothing but vile, evil incantations! Not a single thing I need!”

With a flick of her delicate hand, a violent whirlwind erupted before her—shattering the nearby bookshelves into splinters.

“Master, don’t lose heart,” the Little Dragoness soothed. “After the war a thousand years ago, the library’s collection became incomplete. Even your Dark Grimoire isn’t here. Who knows? Maybe the outside world holds what you seek.”

From the Little Dragoness’s fragmented words, Morningstar sensed the tower’s ancient tragedy—but one question lingered.

“You said the Dark Sorceress failed back then. So why does this tower still stand?”

“The human-divine allied forces were at the end of their rope. They lacked the strength to destroy it. After taking the Dark Sorceress’s body, they left. They never returned—likely believing the Spire held no threat without her.”

“I see…”

Morningstar still longed for home. For now, she’d follow the Little Dragoness’s advice: reclaim the Dark Sorceress’s lost artifacts to regain her power. But first—

“Demon! What do you plan to do with me!?”

…Morningstar felt a genuine headache. *I saved her. Can’t she spare me one decent look?*

“What’s your name?”

“You’re not worthy of knowing it!”

“Fine. I won’t force you. We’ll have no further dealings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m setting you free. Go wherever you like.”

Stunningly beautiful though this Divine Maiden was, Morningstar wasn’t some lust-blinded fool. She had zero intention of keeping this troublemaker close.

“You’re… releasing me?” Freya’s eyes widened in disbelief—then hardened. *A trick. She’ll track me to find my kin.*

“Naturally. I have no reason to keep you.”

“I won’t leave!”

“Hah—!?” Morningstar’s jaw dropped. *You hate me—why cling to me?*

“I’m staying! No matter what you say, I won’t go!” Freya declared, resolve blazing in her eyes, braced for humiliation.

“What the hell is wrong with you!? If you despise me, go cool off somewhere else!”

“No! Don’t think I don’t see your scheme! An evil Dark Sorceress wouldn’t let me go so easily—only a fool would believe that!”

“You *are* the fool!”

“You’re the fool!” Freya flared. As a dignified Holy Maiden, she refused to tolerate such insults.

Seeing her fury, Morningstar actually flinched—worried she’d get bitten—and muttered two words under her breath: “**.”

“What did you say?”

“N-nothing!” Morningstar shook her head wildly, then froze. *Wait… I’m the evil Dark Sorceress. Why am *I* flustered? Shouldn’t *you* be scared?*

Silver hair, crimson eyes, black-tipped lips and nails—every detail screamed darkness. Yet Morningstar’s flustered expression clashed utterly with her aura.

“Stop pretending to be harmless! I’ve seen through your evil act!” Freya scoffed. *She’s faking kindness to win my trust. I won’t fall for it.*

“I give up!”

Morningstar’s gaze sharpened. *Too soft. She doesn’t fear me.*

Time for intimidation.

“Think carefully. If you stay, I’ll subject you to the cruelest torments. There’s an old Chinese saying: ‘A wise man knows when to yield.’ Don’t be stubborn… or else… hehehe…”

Freya glared with icy contempt. “So the mask finally slips! Hmph. I knew it.”

“Don’t think I’m joking! I *will* be merciless!”

*Don’t push your luck! Do you think I’m a pushover!?* Morningstar stood, ready to strike.

“Come then! I’ll never yield—no matter what you do!”

Freya’s unwavering glare crushed Morningstar’s momentum. She froze, utterly lost.

Just then, the Little Dragoness stepped between them and shoved Freya to the ground.

“Master! Have you forgotten your… preferences? Humiliate her! Let your dark essence invade every orifice of her body!”

“…” Morningstar was speechless. Freya shouted, “Do your worst! Even gagged, my heart will curse you!”

“Aaaaah! Heaven, what did I do wrong!? Just *what* kind of Holy Maiden are you!? You should resist! How am I supposed to keep up my evil act!? This is humiliating!”

If Freya had cried “Yamete,” Morningstar might’ve thrilled. But now? “Hurry up!”—acting like *that* kind of person.

“Master! Do it!”

“Go on, Demon! You said you’d humiliate me! Waiting for my pleas? Dream on! I’ll never beg!”

“Torture her, Master!”

“…”

“Master… if you won’t… I can do it.”

“…”

“Or… ‘torture’ me instead? The mood’s set… someone’s gotta suffer.”

“Y-you…”

“N-no! Of course I don’t *like* it! I just… want to help you release your frustration!”