“Do you currently… have a weapon that suits you?”
The Saintess threw out this question.
Gabriella was momentarily unsure how to answer, because her so-called suitable weapon had shattered long ago.
Later, Isabella had completely reassembled it, and now Gabriella could only summon a remnant shadow of the sword to fight.
Though her combat strength couldn’t be said to have dropped drastically, it was still somewhat affected.
Gabriella was more curious why the Saintess would suddenly ask such a thing.
Suddenly, a race recorded only in myths flashed through Gabriella’s mind.
Fairies.
Beings similar to humans, proficient in magic and craftsmanship, generally petite in stature.
This pitiful race had been enslaved by humans thousands of years ago.
Using their bodily traits, they were bound to countless weapons, creating many possessed armaments.
However, by common sense, such weapons should have all shattered and perished hundreds—or even thousands—of years ago.
The Saintess couldn’t possibly be a fairy, could she?!
Indeed, the feeling she gave off didn’t seem entirely human.
Gabriella suddenly remembered that she did have one sword.
It was the lowest-quality sword in the entire world, called the “Apprentice Iron Sword.”
Back when she still treated this world as a game, in order to challenge herself and earn higher scores in subjugation missions, she hadn’t chosen to discard this “starting weapon.”
On the contrary, except for the Demon King campaign, she carried this Apprentice Iron Sword everywhere for battle.
Until finally it became damaged.
Though it could be maintained, the game seemed to urge players to replace weapons—the cracks on the Apprentice Iron Sword were irreparable damage.
Gabriella had developed some sentiment toward this iron sword that had accompanied her for so long.
So she sealed it away, storing it together with the purification artifact 【Fountain of Purity】 in a box.
It couldn’t possibly be…
Gabriella thought of a way to probe:
“I don’t have any other weapon right now, and… I do need one.”
“Wea… weapon.”
The Saintess clenched her hands tightly.
She now looked just like a child coming for an interview.
Her face turned bright red.
“I… I am the on—”
She hesitated for a long time, but still couldn’t bring herself to say that she was Gabriella’s sword.
Yesterday, on the way to the residential palace after being “captured” by Elsa and Tina, she had seen Gabriella—Gabriella alive.
In that moment, there was no hatred or doubt in her heart, only a sense of relief.
Like the cool sensation of an obsession suddenly being released—all worries turned to blankness, and her mind became much clearer.
It seemed she could once again, like the Apprentice Iron Sword of the past, simply continue fighting in obedience to Lady Gabriella.
That was the duty and fate of a sword, of a weapon.
Even if cracks appeared on the blade, she should break under Gabriella’s swings, dying for her master…
After all, she was Gabriella’s one and only.
Then, Tina and Elsa told her about Gabriella’s experiences over the past eight years.
First captured by the Demon King.
Even in a false relationship, true feelings were born.
Through their time together, they gradually fell in love, enduring storms and pain, until they finally confirmed their true hearts.
Five more years of companionship slowly drew their burning hearts closer, and at the wedding, they confessed their love to each other.
The Saintess did not exist for humanity.
Her mission was Gabriella.
In the past, she had wanted to avenge Gabriella, to carry on her beliefs, to execute her will.
Right or wrong, didn’t it matter?
The Saintess had also wondered if this was perhaps demonic brainwashing, or if Elsa and Tina were deceiving her.
But when she saw Gabriella waking two hours early for the Demon King, cooking with full anticipation.
When she saw that supposedly evil Demon King caring for her wife’s feelings with such cautious tenderness—so romantic and sincere.
But if she admitted her identity now, would Gabriella accept her?
In truth, ever since she was awakened by Miss Simona five years ago, she had known her days were numbered.
Once cracks began gradually appearing on the blade, it meant her life would soon end.
Unless she froze herself and became a specimen.
She didn’t dare tell Gabriella that she was her one and only—the weapon Gabriella couldn’t bear to discard.
If she told Gabriella now that she was going to vanish, wouldn’t that make Gabriella sad?
Gabriella had already found love.
She shouldn’t interfere or insert herself—she should continue guarding her instead.
“Lady Gabriella, it’s nothing. I was just asking.” The Saintess bowed her head slightly.
…
“Please feel free to use me. I will accept any command.”
Gabriella’s pupils widened suddenly.
What exactly had this little Saintess just said?
It was as if she had made a firm resolution—joining the maid corps simply to fulfill the longing in her heart to trace her origins.
“Saintess, can you tell me your true identity?” Gabriella finally asked.
But the moment this topic was raised, the Saintess’s face fell.
She lowered her head, a shadow covering her eyes, as if remembering many unpleasant things.
Seeing this, Gabriella had no choice but to change the subject and explain the things a maid needed to pay attention to.
The Saintess listened carefully, taking notes cautiously like a certain other maid, as if preparing thoroughly for future work.
Half an hour passed.
Gabriella suddenly thought of someone who could definitely tell her the Saintess’s true identity.
For the moment, she said nothing, only touched her chin, then reached out and hugged the little Saintess.
“You said that whatever I call you, you’ll accept it, right?”
At this, the Saintess indeed grew sad again, her eyes dimming.
“Then from now on, I’ll call you ‘Loli.’ It sounds nice and is easy to say.”
“Loli…”
The sadness on the girl’s face turned to surprise.
After bidding her farewell, Gabriella left the tea room—she had other things to attend to.
Leaving the Saintess alone in her original spot, head lowered.
The tea reflected a silver-haired girl, clear tears flowing from golden pupils.
“I… I’m called Loli.”
She sobbed quietly.
For some reason, though this should have been something incredibly happy, she was crying uncontrollably.
She lay on the table, trying not to make any sobbing sounds.
This was the first time she had cried since transforming into a fairy body.
If Elsa and the others saw, it would be utterly embarrassing.
At that moment, someone entered the tea room.
Loli lifted her head slightly and saw the golden long hair and the demonic horns atop it.
“Demon King… Your Majesty?”