Morningstar sighed at the formidable Ice Queen. Though she now held the princess’s memories, the princess had only lived with her elder sister before turning eighteen. After that, their meetings grew scarce—words exchanged barely totaled ten sentences.
With so little to go on, gauging the Ice Queen’s true strength was impossible. A face-to-face meeting seemed the only path.
No matter how powerful the Ice Queen was, the Dark Sorceress’s Demon Eye would expose her completely.
“Congratulations, Master.” Little Dragoness pushed the door open and stepped inside, fully aware of what had transpired. Behind her followed Freya, face pale and troubled. Morningstar knew why.
“Freya… do you think consuming the princess was a bit excessive?”
Freya now aligned with Chaotic Good. Numerically speaking, her goodness value ran high—naturally, such acts unsettled her.
“Master… as long as you’re happy. What can I say?”
What *could* she say? Her words held no weight; resistance was futile. All she could do was resign herself.
“Then stop wearing that sour expression in front of Master! Who are you putting on that act for?” Little Dragoness remarked coldly. She was Freya’s absolute opposite.
If Freya’s goodness value exceeded fifty, Little Dragoness’s evil value soared past eighty—her own goodness pathetically low.
Even before the Dark Sorceress’s corruption, Little Dragoness had been inherently wicked. As a proud dragon, she’d never respected lowly lives. Humans? Ants. Crushing a swarm stirred zero guilt.
Corruption only intensified this nature. Now, she cared for no one but her Master.
Thus, Freya’s compassion for others felt utterly repulsive to her.
“You only bully me!”
Their last scuffle ended with Freya pinned beneath Little Dragoness—magic forbidden, but dragon strength innate. Had Little Dragoness been interested, Freya would’ve been taken advantage of long ago.
Proving her dominance, Little Dragoness lifted her chin proudly, mocking the Divine Clan’s supposed might.
“Bully you? If not you, then who? You’re the only fool here.”
“Hmph!” Freya shot her a glare but offered no retort—too tired to bother.
“Huh? Do you two give off shipping vibes?” Morningstar watched them bicker, amused. She felt no anger. For a Divine Clan member not yet fully fallen, lingering kindness was natural.
Freya’s moral alignment now hovered near fifty-fifty. A slight nudge, and darkness would consume her.
“I’ll bite you to death!!!”
Mid-thought, the two girls erupted into a fight. Freya locked Little Dragoness in a rear naked chokehold; Little Dragoness sank her teeth into Freya’s arm.
Little Dragoness had escalated—Freya, humiliated, snapped.
“You two…”
Morningstar’s eyes gleamed. She produced a dark purple crystal, faintly pulsing with sinister energy.
“Little Dragoness… you know what this is, right? What if I… inserted this into Freya? Turned her into a Corrupted Dragon—*your* little sister? Then…”
Before she finished, both girls—still tangled—widened their eyes and shouted in unison:
“No!”
“Absolutely not!”
Their bickering ceased instantly. A shared mission united them: stop this idea.
“Oh? And why~?” Morningstar teased, waving the Corrupted Dragon Crystal near Freya. Each near-miss made their pupils jump.
“I can’t accept *this fool* becoming my sister! No—she must not taint my sister’s soul!”
The crystal held Little Dragoness’s younger sister’s remnant soul. Fusion would overwrite the host’s mind with her memories, thoughts, personality.
The thought of her sister turned into a sentimental bleeding-heart made Little Dragoness nauseous.
“I’d rather be consumed by Master than become *her* sister!” Freya cried. Even as a corrupted Divine Maiden, she’d stand equal to Little Dragoness—a fellow servant of darkness. But *little sister*? Unthinkable humiliation.
“In that case,” Morningstar smiled, “cease bickering. Love each other dearly.”
“Love each other dearly…” They turned, forcing a glance, searching for sisterly warmth.
“Bleurgh——!” Little Dragoness twisted away, dry heaving.
“Hey! Are you dry heaving *at me*!?” Freya’s face darkened.
“Nope. I smell that goody-two-shoes aura… kinda nauseating.”
“Cut her slack, Little Dragoness. She *is* a Holy Maiden—such an aura’s natural. Alright, I won’t force you. Up you go.”
Morningstar, satisfied the teasing had run its course, rose. The princess was consumed; no reason to linger.
“Freya, time to get up~”
Leticia knocked and entered. Her mind, corrupted by Morningstar, obeyed the command to *be* Leticia. Outwardly unchanged, she still called Morningstar “Freya”—the alias used long ago. Without orders, she’d forever play her former self.
Inside, chaos reigned: *Ah~ Master… Being near you fills me with joy. My body trembles with happiness.*
“Leticia, prepare the carriage. We head to the royal capital.”
“Mm, understood, Freya.”
Leticia smiled sweetly, skipping off to obey. She tried hard to act normal—but her devotion to Master shimmered through, making her demeanor far more intimate than before.
