Leticia woke with hazy memories of that day—only fragments remained: her squad ambushed by dark magic, Freya fighting desperately to shield her.

Sorrow for her fallen comrades flickered in her heart, but as a soldier of the Frost Empire, she swiftly composed herself.

"Lady Freya, thank you for your subordinate who saved my life."

Leticia expressed her gratitude to Morningstar once more. Saved twice by her during the journey, Morningstar was undeniably her benefactor in both duty and heart—her gratitude plain to see.

"Just a small favor," Morningstar waved dismissively. Truth be told, she felt a twinge of guilt toward Leticia. After all, she was the one who’d killed Leticia’s subordinates.

*Maybe compensate her later—eternal life, perhaps?* Making her a Guardian was out of the question, but molding her into a loyal servant like Selina? Feasible.

Though her thoughts would be subtly influenced, the perks were immense: a body forged by the Dark Sorceress resisted nearly all physical harm, healed rapidly, granted eternal life, and channeled potent dark power. Many once dreamed of this—willing to serve the Dark Sorceress for such gifts.

The group pressed onward. Shortly after they left, Selina razed the church that had scammed Morningstar. Peeking through their mental link during the clergyman’s torment, Morningstar noted the girl’s creatively cruel methods—many she hadn’t even considered.

Nearing the capital, travel parties thickened the roads. They moved in clusters, yet their attire marked them as foreigners.

Morningstar knew this because she’d absorbed Selina’s soul and memories. As a long-lived servant of the Second-generation Witch, Selina held vast knowledge of the world. Morningstar could instantly recognize these travelers’ origins.

Of course, Selina’s memories weren’t constantly active—only retrieved when needed. Otherwise, accumulating souls would drown her mind in chaos. Think of it as compressed data: decompressed only on demand.

"Seems Her Majesty the Ice Queen is preparing a marriage contest."

"Marriage contest?" Morningstar blinked in surprise, then recalled from Selina’s memories: yes, historically, the Ice Queen had held them. But Selina cared little for gossip, so details were sparse.

"The Queen seeks a consort of formidable strength to strengthen the royal bloodline. Held every five years, open to champions from all nations. Most travelers here? Just spectators. True contenders wouldn’t ride carriages."

"I see." Selina’s memories painted the Ice Queen as a cold ruler. Morningstar tilted her head. "What’s the Queen really like?"

"To us, she is a goddess—unmatched in power. Cold, yes, but every act serves the Frost Empire…"

Leticia’s words distilled into three truths: awe for the Queen’s strength, reverence for her will, obedience to her command.

"You said past contests bore no fruit. How old is she now?"

"The Queen’s age is taboo. But her magic freezes her body—she forever appears sixteen."

"You call her the most beautiful… Could *I* join the contest? Hahaha." Morningstar teased.

"Absolutely!" Leticia affirmed without hesitation. "Gender, age, race—anyone passing the trials may wed her."

"You’re serious? I’m… a girl."

"Haven’t you heard of the Elven Breeding Vine?"

"Breeding Vine?" Morningstar frowned, searched Selina’s memories—*keyword: Breeding Seed*—and found it.

An Elven creation: a vine linking two women, drawing their bloodlines. Flowers bloom, bear a seed. Implant it, and pregnancy follows.

"Whoa… amazing," Morningstar murmured.

"All Elves are female. They reproduce this way. Outsider women can use it too. Trade between Frost Empire and Elven Grove includes these vines. Hence—contest open to all."

"Oh~" A new plan sparked in Morningstar’s mind: *Join the contest. Get close to the Ice Queen.*

That Dark Sorceress’s treasure was guarded personally by the Queen. Only proximity offered a chance to reclaim it. With her current strength, defeating rivals without revealing dark magic? Entirely possible.

"Lady Freya," Leticia’s voice softened with concern, "if you truly intend to compete… please think carefully."

"Why?"

"Because…" Leticia hesitated, jaw tight. This shame was her homeland’s secret—but Morningstar was her savior. She steeled herself. "For six generations, we’ve had only Queens. Do you know why each has a mother… but no father?"

"Why?"

"…They all died."

"…Huh?"

"Elders say: after the martial contest chose the King, he’d vanish. When seen again—emaciated, muscles hollowed, spirit broken, magic utterly drained. Like he’d been… sucked dry."

"Good grief, your Queen is—" Morningstar bit her tongue. *Too disrespectful.*

"Even as a woman… if chosen, I fear you’d share those Kings’ fate. Please reconsider."

This secret stayed buried beyond the kingdom’s borders—luring hopefuls still. But for her savior, Leticia broke silence.