The overlord of the gods is interrogating the alien female spy.

　"...Don't look at me...I, I can't possibly sleep on the floor...I am..."

　Lamaren huddled at the foot of the bed. When the Qilin spotted her, she quickly covered her eyes with her horned wings, muttering something like, "I am a dignified female demon princess, how can I sleep on the ground?"

　Chen Lingxu didn't bother with her. Compared to the Blueberry Princess, he preferred the little peach slave at the moment.

　"Keep it up, Theresa."

　"Yes, Master..."

　"Damn it, don't bully Theresa like this!"

　"Enough with the nonsense. If you're not going to sleep, give this useless slave a push. He's exhausted."

　"You awful... Waaah... Theresa... Tell me if you're not feeling well..."

　"I, I'm fine... Ramalen... Please..."

　Chapter 41 The Master of Pardons Must Pay His Debts

　The orange-yellow campfire stood out starkly against the night sky in the woods.

　The wind blowing through the forest carried a chilly chill, prompting the swordsman standing by the campfire to add a few more pieces of wood. Watching the sparks fly from the burning wood and listening to the crackling sounds, her heart, like her body, slowly calmed down in the warmth of the flames.

　"Therese, have a bowl of horned leapbill soup. Delicious food always helps to dispel fear and anxiety."

　The white-haired, white-horned Sarkaz sat beside her, holding a steaming bowl of meat and bone broth, fresh from the pot, mixed with carrot chunks and turnips, and half a piece of black bread soaking in it.

　Meat broth is a luxury in Kazdel and the surrounding area. Most of the meat is reserved for the nobility. Commoners like Therese usually eat turnips and other wild vegetables that grow randomly in the ground, along with hard, rock-like black bread made with some unknown substance to fill their stomachs.

　Occasionally, a few gnats would escape from the house, but they weren't considered pests; rather, they were their extra meal, a rare treat of meat.

　As for hunting... there aren't even any decent forests in Kazdel; most of it is wasteland and scree slopes, let alone herds of wild animals.

　Therese had no idea why Kazdel, the home of the Sarkaz, had to be built on such barren land.

　"Thank you..."

　"You're welcome. Although you're not willing to join our family, we can try to start as friends."

　The pardoner in front of her was very warm and caring towards her... It seemed that her meager swordsmanship skills were truly considered unparalleled geniuses in his eyes.

　Or perhaps, this is just their habit; as long as a Sarkaz has some skill, they will extend an olive branch.

　During her travels with them over the past few days, Therese has discovered that these pardoners are not all Sarkaz with white horns like the other group. Most of them are the common white-haired Sarkaz. She asked a few people when she had time, and the answers she received were all pretty much the same.

　They were all recruited by this white-horned Sarkaz, whom they called their leader. Before becoming pardoners, they came from all walks of life: cooks, blacksmiths, porters, and even some Sarkaz who were born slaves...

　Judging from this, the pardoner before us is probably a rare good person in Kazdel.

　"Have you thought about what you'll do after you find your sister, Therese?"

　"What should I do...? Maybe I'll join the army."

　Kazdel's Sarkaz, with their fighting prowess, can only do a few things: either become mercenaries, risking their lives for various people, or join the 'armies' recruited by different nobles, serving the various royal courts. Therese, however, has family to care for; she can't abandon her sister to become a mercenary whose fate is in her own hands. Therefore, her only option is to join the army.

　But Therese was just an ordinary half-Sarkaz, and her abilities weren't great enough. Even if she joined the royal court's noble army, she'd be lucky to become a squad leader before she died. Unless she had a stroke of luck and was chosen by a noble to become their servant, that would be considered a leap in social class.

　In Therese's mind, the chances of an unknown person like her rising to prominence through force were not as high as her sister's chances of becoming a famous tailor chosen by a nobleman.

　"Joining the army? Not bad... The army of the Carrion King is more suitable for a Sarkaz like you. He always emphasizes military discipline, as long as you step into..."

　With diligent effort and a few battles fought in about ten years, one might become an officer.

　"Hmm. Ten years?"

　That sounds like a good choice. The King of Carrion is renowned, and even a nobody like her has heard of his fame.

　But Therese knew that the other person definitely had something left unsaid.

　"However, joining the army still means going to the battlefield. On the battlefield, swords have no eyes. Although there is an opportunity to achieve great military exploits, how many people die in a single war? Under the name of the King of Carrion, the God of War, how many Sarkaz bones and souls are left behind? Who can guarantee that they will be the one to survive?"

　One second they're recommending or even praising the pardoners of the carrion, the next they're attacking them as warmongers.

　"really."

　Therese nodded in agreement.

　Joining the army seems like a good option, but it depends on who you're comparing yourself to.

　Compared to mercenaries who are home anywhere and might fall asleep any day, being a Sarkaz soldier is only slightly better. But compared to a tailor like his sister, or other craftsmen, it's far inferior.

　"Even the most elite warriors could be shot in the head and die the moment you push open the door."

　The White Horn's pardoner looked at the young Sarkaz swordsman before him and recounted many seemingly absurd ways to die, but Therese felt only indescribable sorrow as she listened.

　"If it were just one person, it would be fine, but if there are family members behind you, and you just die like that, your family will wait day and night, only to receive the devastating news of your death, and may not even be able to see your body. How sad they would be."

　The pardoner before me was full of emotion, and his words were incredibly moving. It was as if he had witnessed such scenes countless times, and each time he saw them, he felt a deep pang of heartache.

　"..."

　Therese then thought of her younger sister.

　If one day she were to suddenly die, how heartbroken her younger sister would be... Just like when she saw the village destroyed and the villagers lying dead everywhere, all she could think of was her sister's violent death...

　"What else can I do? I'm just a... Sarkaz who can swing a sword a few times."

　Her swordsmanship is so poor it's embarrassing to even mention it.

　“That’s not a problem, Therese.”

　The pardoner of the White Horn comforted her.

　"As long as you have a persistent heart and never give up, nothing can stop you."

　"……Thanks."

　"You're welcome."

　The other party spoke again, but this time it was not to invite Therese to join his team.

　"I also know some swordsmanship and a little bit of magic. If you don't mind, I can teach you a few moves."

　"This……"

　Therese already knew that the servants had all learned from him—swordsmanship, magic, knowledge… Although they hadn’t gotten to know each other well these past few days, she had benefited greatly from his occasional conversations.

　"You don't need to call me teacher or anything like that. I don't like people calling me that; it makes our relationship seem distant. This is just a little mutual help between friends, isn't it?"

　Is it mutual help and support among friends?

　"But you've already helped me find my sister... I..."

　"No, no, no, Therese. You've misunderstood."

　The other person corrected her.

　“You are going to save your sister, while we are going to find the real culprit who killed our family and avenge them. There is no conflict between us. On the contrary, it is your willingness to help us find the murderer that I, Quesatushta, will remember this help and friendship.”

　In the firelight, Therese felt her eyes were playing tricks on her, and she could see a shimmering golden light on the person in front of her.

　"The Master of Pardons will repay all debts."

　The other person extended their hand, their expression utterly sincere.

　"And you, Therese, my friend, need not worry, just accept my return gift."

　Chapter 42 Theresa, Knowledge Explosion

　Oh, why did this have to happen to her?

　The monster's ferocious appearance... its brutal actions... my body was in excruciating pain...

　Mother... sisters... anyone, please, anyone, can help her...

　"Woo!"

　Lamaren suddenly woke up, but the monster was not beside her.

　"Are you awake? I left you breakfast. Come and eat after you wash up."

　A gentle voice sounded from the side, and Ramallen turned her head to look; it was Theresia.

　The pink and white peach-shaped girl was sitting on a chair by the window, holding a needle and thread in her hand, seemingly sewing something.

　"This princess... cough... how long have I been asleep?"

　After sitting up, Lamaren realized that she had gone from being a beloved banshee princess to a monster's slave. The drastic change in her status left her feeling lost and disoriented.

　"Hmm...it's only been an hour since I woke up."

　"...Are you alright, Theresa?"

　She looked at her fellow sufferer, whose complexion had improved significantly compared to yesterday, and quietly inquired about her condition.

　After all, Ramalen had seen her state last night. After Theresa collapsed completely, she was pulled over and worried anxiously for a long time. Later, exhaustion forced her to close her eyes, and she didn't know...

　When did the Dao fall asleep?

　"It's alright, I've gotten used to it these past few days. As for Master, it's only once or twice a day. I'll just consider it... exercise."

　Theresa tilted her head and thought for a moment. It seemed that she had indeed found doing those things much easier recently. Was it because she had gotten used to it?

　"...That's it."

　Poor Theresa could only find joy amidst her suffering to get through that long ordeal.

　Lamarle wisely refrained from continuing the conversation. It was clearly a matter of suffering; only an ignorant fool would ask about someone else's experience of pain.

　Breakfast consisted of bean porridge and bread, but Lamarle didn't seem to have much of an appetite.

　"You should eat something; it's not a pleasant feeling to be hungry."

　Theresa saw her sitting there just stirring the spoon listlessly, so she urged her on with concern.

　"Um... I can't eat."

　What does it feel like to be hungry?

　Lamaren didn't understand at all.

　From birth until now, she had always been protected by the Succubus King's court. She had never gone hungry, nor had she ever been cold in winter. In her opinion, people wouldn't feel too bad even if they didn't eat, and as for going hungry... well, she could deal with that later.

　"Let's put these things aside for now. Theresa, how about I teach you some magic?"

　"Ok?"

　Theresa blinked, looking at the banshee princess in front of her, and immediately realized that the princess was thinking about escaping again.

　"Well, if it were me..."

　She wanted to say that there was no need to waste her time teaching her, after all, she only had a short time left to make one garment, and what could she change in such a short time?

　"Theresia!"

　Lamaren suddenly raised her voice, startling Little Peach so much that she involuntarily trembled.

　"I, I am."

　"...I'm sorry, but don't forget what you promised me!"

　Seeing her cowering and frightened appearance, Ramallen felt a pang of sadness in her heart. She then leaned forward and grabbed Theresa's shoulder, staring intently at her.

　"We promised to escape together!"

　"Hmm, I haven't forgotten. Lamarlene."

　"Then listen to me. Let's practice our spells properly. Only when you become stronger can I make plans."

　As she spoke, Lamaren found her bone pen.

　"Do you have a staff? Theresa, why don't you use my bone pen? I'll teach you how to cast spells step by step."

　Perhaps because the gap between the two was too great, Qilin did not bother to confiscate her staff, and even used it as a tool for entertainment, causing Ramalien to suffer humiliation and torment.

　"Lamaren..."

　Theresa looked at her bone pen, hesitant to speak.

　"Don't...don't worry about it, I...I've washed it all clean...really, there won't be any smell at all."

　Lamaren blushed under her gaze, her horned wings flapping, her bright red agate eyes filled with shame and indignation, and she anxiously began to defend herself.

　"No, I didn't... I didn't look down on you."

　Theresa coughed, covering her mouth, and then showed her the ring on her hand.

　“These... these rings are my staff. They were all prepared for me by my master.”