Even though she was a counterfeit, she was still posing as a world-threatening Dark Sorceress—yet scared out of her wits like this? Even I, Morningstar, felt embarrassed.

“Y-You… are you really the… the Dark Sorceress…?”

The fake Dark Sorceress suddenly dropped to her knees before Morningstar, voice trembling: “Spare me, Dark Sorceress! I-I never meant to impersonate you!”

She never imagined the legendary cruel, dark, and evil Dark Sorceress had actually resurrected—right before her eyes.

She knew the reputation well: crossing a Dark Sorceress meant death at best. Falling into her hands? A fate far worse than death.

“Hey? Kneeling and begging? Sister, you’re *supposed* to be the Number Two Dark Sorceress—show some backbone!”

“I-I’m not a Dark Sorceress at all! I’m not…”

Tears and snot streamed down her face; all dignity vanished.

“I’m sorry, Dark Sorceress… Please grant me a painless death.”

Knowing the cruelty, she dared not hope to live—only to die quickly, without torment.

“You think too poorly of me. I won’t kill you~” Morningstar patted her shoulder. The reassurance only tightened her fear. Pale, trembling, eyes wide: “N-No! Don’t!”

Convinced torture awaited, her mind snapped. She screamed hysterically.

“…Forget it. You can’t answer anyway. Let’s keep this simple.” Morningstar pressed a hand to her chest. Black substance erupted from her palm, instantly engulfing the woman’s body.

“Mmmph!”

Muffled cries faded as her form dissolved into black liquid, absorbed into Morningstar.

“Hmm… Oh, I see.”

Earlier, Morningstar had scanned her with the Demon Eye: dark-aligned, but only around level forty.

Not even close to Freya—let alone Little Dragoness. That so-called “counterfeit” Dark Sorceress? She was originally of the Divine Clan, corrupted only after sealing darkness for millennia. Her power should’ve been far greater.

Now absorbed, her soul was savored thoroughly. Every memory, every thought laid bare.

“Brrr…” Morningstar shivered. Tasting that fear-drenched soul brought euphoria—a crushing, slow savoring that seeped into her very core. Spiritual pleasure dwarfed physical sensation a hundredfold.

“No wonder Dark Sorceresses crave killing… and savor the torment first.”

She licked her lips, summoned a discarded soul nearby, and gave it a light lick.

Her face twisted like she’d bitten bitter melon. She spat. “Pah! Bland. A death in sleep has zero flavor.”

She crushed the souls into fragments. They scattered into the air.

“Should still be in time.”

Guided by dark magic, the fragments flew back to the city, slipping into freshly fallen corpses.

They’d resurrect—but tainted by the Dark Sorceress’s darkness, their future price might be far worse than death.

“Time to head back~” Stretching, Morningstar melted into the shadow beneath her feet.

“Master, you’re back~!” Little Dragoness pounced the moment she emerged, nuzzling affectionately—like an eager puppy greeting its owner.

“Good girl~” Morningstar stroked her horn. Honestly, she *was* cute sometimes… just…

“Could you *not* rub against my chest? I really don’t want to ‘clash… waves’ with you.”

“Hehehe… Master, what happened to that fake Dark Sorceress?”

“Fake? She wasn’t even worthy of *fake*.”

The Dark Sorceress who’d sealed Morningstar and fallen to darkness was the true Number Two Dark Sorceress—this impostor’s master. Injured after the Second Human-God-Demon War, she slumbered. So her servant impersonated her for deception.

“Wow. A fake of a fake? Has ‘Dark Sorceress’ become this cheap?”

Souls were needed to awaken her master—but the fake hoarded them selfishly, discarding some to delay the revival. Like just now.

“So… Little Dragoness *is* loyal? Truly wants to revive me? …Or does she? Maybe I should absorb her too and check.”

“I’ve already consumed her. Consider it punishment.”

“Punishment, Master? It’s a *reward*! Every loyal servant dreams of becoming part of our master’s body—it’s the highest honor!”

Little Dragoness spoke with genuine longing, eyes gleaming with envy.

“…So you want me to consume you *now*?”

“Really?! You’re not joking?! Please—consume me! Let me join your noble body!”

“Uh…” Morningstar realized the joke had gone too far.

Being consumed wasn’t death. The fake’s body vanished; her soul was chewed like gum—fear the sugar, now flavorless. It lingered within Morningstar: digestible, or preserved for a future vessel. But chewed gum can’t be restored. Marked. Transformed. No longer herself.

“Alright. I need help now. I’ll decide about consuming you… after everything’s settled.”

“…Okay.”

Little Dragoness’s head drooped. Her body deflated like a punctured balloon, shrinking back into the little girl from their first meeting.