“Astreia.”
Wendy stepped forward, gripping the Princess’s shoulders firmly with both hands, forcing those emerald star-like eyes, burning with ambition, to refocus on his own face.
“Do you remember how Allison just described that Witch of Lust?”
“At the critical moment of the final battle, she betrayed and devoured her only ally, the Witch of Greed, without hesitation.”
“What does that tell you?”
The Prince’s fingertips tightened slightly, letting Astreia feel the weight in his words.
“It means that as a witch, her reason surpassed her desire! Not only was she mad, but also cunning to the extreme!”
“These so-called Fragments of Memory, the so-called ‘Key’, the so-called ‘Power of the Three Sins’—what makes you so sure they’re not a vicious trap set by the Witch of Lust within the Holy Sword’s seal, laid out over a thousand years?”
“She waited this long, schemed so deeply, just to wait for a vessel with witch-like qualities to appear, then lured you into drawing the Holy Sword, and finally, seized your body…”
“Completely devouring you!”
Wendy’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word struck straight to the heart.
The last four words were like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames of ambition that had just ignited within the Princess.
Astreia’s whole body stiffened, intense fear flashing through her pupils.
That’s right…
How did she not think of this?
That was the most cunning and powerful existence among the original witches—how could a newly awakened novice like herself possibly believe she could control such power?
Draw the sword?
This isn’t confidence, it’s stupidity!
“But… but…”
The Princess still felt unwilling, biting her lower lip hard.
“Can we really just leave that great power alone?”
“The Blood Empress could return at any moment. The more power we have, the better our chances.”
“No. Power has never been the key to the problem.”
Wendy shook his head, his gaze deeper than ever before.
He released Astreia’s arms, slowly walking to the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the council hall, his eyes cast out over the vast, solemn Royal Capital.
“Our true enemy has never been the Blood Empress, nor the Demon Race. It’s the Rules of the World itself!”
“Think about it—why does the power of the Seven Heroes correspond to the Seven Virtues? Why can the Blood Empress’s curse reverse those powers into the Seven Deadly Sins?”
“Somewhere within all this, there must be a Higher Law we have yet to understand!”
The Prince turned, the sunset behind him outlining a golden silhouette, making him radiate an almost divine brilliance.
“Drawing the Holy Sword and devouring the powers of other witches is just spinning in the old cycle, drinking poison to quench thirst.”
“We’ll never escape this cursed circle—only become the next witch to lose control and be hunted or consumed.”
“To truly break fate, we must uncover that higher law, and then…”
Wendy’s lips curled into a wicked smile that made Astreia’s heart skip a beat.
“Dominate it!”
“Rewrite the world!”
Hearing these words, Astreia was completely shaken.
She stared dazedly at the Prince before her, and the last trace of unwillingness and doubt in her heart was burned away by an even greater, more insane flame.
That’s right.
What’s the point of devouring a few losers?
If you’re going to conquer, conquer the law behind this world!
If you’re going to rule, rule the fate of all living things!
“I understand!”
The Princess nodded heavily, ambition and desire in her eyes blazing hotter than before.
***
In the shadow of a pillar at the edge of the council hall, a small figure was desperately covering her mouth to keep from crying out.
Little Queen Yekaterina’s whole body was trembling—not from fear, but from an unprecedented excitement!
Witch… Law… Rewrite…
A new door to another world had swung wide open before her!
“So that’s it… the power of a witch is like this…”
In the little Queen’s eyes, a new light burned—a ghostly fire of jealousy, desire, and madness.
“If that’s the case… does it mean I can always stand by sister… and his side?”
***
After that, the workings of the palace finally returned to normal.
Under Wendy’s “guidance,” Astreia and the now “normal” little Queen began dealing with the mountain of state affairs.
The power vacuum left by the fall of the Veid Family had to be filled, new noble factions needed to be appeased and disciplined, and the order of the entire Royal Capital was swiftly rebuilt under the sisters and the Prime Minister’s assistance.
Of course, behind closed doors, the harsh training of “willpower” and “domination” continued every day—more frequent and intense than ever before.
And Little Queen Yekaterina seemed to have found a new joy.
Whenever night fell, she would silently sneak near the bathhouse of the inner palace, listen through the walls of the next room, or peep greedily through a crack in the door at those shameful, soul-shivering scenes.
Everything seemed to be moving in a good direction.
Until one bright morning.
After a night of “training,” the three of them sat at the dining table, enjoying breakfast.
Wendy slumped powerlessly in his chair, feeling completely drained.
He picked up a silver spoon and absentmindedly poked at the pale yellow, lifeless mush on his plate.
Mashed Potatoes.
Mashed Potatoes again!
The Prince lifted his head with a look of utter despair, scanning the dining table.
To the left, a plate of crispy Fried Fish Fillet and French Fries.
To the right, a large, juicy Tomahawk Steak.
In the center, a steaming heap of… Mashed Potatoes.
“Have we… been eating Mashed Potatoes for a whole week?”
Wendy’s face collapsed instantly, filled with hopelessness.
“And these Fried Fish and French Fries, Roast Beef… does the Palace Chef not know how to make anything else?!”
At his complaint, the Little Queen at the head of the table blinked her innocent big eyes and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Prince Wendy, this is already the finest cuisine in the Valoran Kingdom.”
“Ordinary people outside, even many minor nobles, spend their whole lives longing for a meal like this.”
Seated next to Wendy, Astreia had no interest in joining the conversation.
She was cutting into the Tomahawk Steak at blinding speed, shoveling pieces into her mouth, then following with a small spoonful of Mashed Potatoes, chewing rapidly.
The whole process was as smooth as flowing water, yet inexplicably elegant.
After finishing, she looked at the Prince and stated her opinion.
“I think it’s all delicious. Just… the Mashed Potatoes are a bit bland.”
“………”
Wendy covered his face, utterly speechless.
Delicious? Not bad?
This stuff, with nothing but salt for flavor and cooking so rough it’s criminal—you call this tasty?
He felt like finding a corner to lie down and rest.
The Prince’s gaze unconsciously drifted to Astreia’s “northern hemisphere.”
Then he realized something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Astreia was eating too fast.
And too much.
The Tomahawk Steak, big enough for ten people, was already more than half gone.
The huge bowl of Mashed Potatoes was also rapidly shrinking.
Yet Astreia’s stomach showed no sign of swelling, and her face didn’t show the joy of savoring good food—more like the desperate hunger of filling a void.
As if a beast of endless appetite lived within her belly.
A chilling thought exploded in the Prince’s mind.
No way…