Asher’s annoyed sigh sliced through the tense silence just as he was about to taste Rachel’s soft lips.

Rachel, jolted from her thoughts by the demoness’ outburst, stepped back, a subtle flush coloring her cheeks, wondering why she just always seemed to freeze under his presence.

Asher turned, eyes locking onto Rebecca with a challenge that was both a taunt and a declaration, “Of course, she is my slave. How else do you think we waltzed into this building?” His words, sharp and mocking, were punctuated by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “The difference is, her rank as a slave is higher than yours…much higher, I would say.”

Rachel’s gaze shifted, settling on the figure standing defiantly before her—Rebecca Drake, the demoness whose name was synonymous with bloodshed and despair, her legacy written in the ashes of cities and lives lost more than 60 years ago.

That such a creature now stood, shackled by Asher, was a reality too bizarre to grasp fully.

However, hearing Asher mention how her rank as a slave was higher than this demoness caught her by surprise. What did he mean by that?

Rebecca’s eyes widened upon hearing his blunt admission, “Y-You are even more traitorous than I thought! Showing favor to these lowly humans… It makes one question your true allegiance. After all, you are an alien, not one of us. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you sided with these lowly things in exchange for something.”

She couldn’t even believe he brazenly declared that this human bitch had more worth than her. Rachel’s response was swift, her voice cold and steady, “Watch your tone, demon. Were you not bound to him, I would ensure you faced justice for your atrocities,” she declared, fists clenched, embodying defiance.

She felt irked to hear this demoness talking like that to Asher and was afraid that she might do or say something to change his mind.

Rebecca’s face twisted into a snarl, her hatred palpable as she advanced, “You little bitch, who do you think you are speaking to?” The air thickened as dark blue veins ran over Rebecca’s face, ready to claw out this worthless human’s throat.

But Asher’s command halted everything, “Stand down, slave,” he said, his voice a cold blade. At his words, the choker around Rebecca’s neck flared to life with a sinister green glow. “HA…!” She choked, gasping for breath, her hands clawing at the choker in a desperate bid for relief while her knees buckled.

The sight of her, a once-mighty demoness, brought low by an unseen force made Rachel who was watching, have her heart thundering in her chest, as fear and relief warred within her.

Fear of the man who could wield such power with a word, and relief that she bore no such mark of ownership.

Yet, she also knew that whether she had the slave crest or not, Asher would have tormented her like this if he wanted to. But he wasn’t doing that even though she was a human. Why? Was he really sincere about his promise?

Rebecca, after moments that stretched into an eternity, found reprieve as the glow faded and the pain finally receded.

She knelt, panting, her glare at Asher a mix of rage and resentment.

“Next time, don’t try to attack what’s mine, even if it’s just a slave like you. I decide the fate of what belongs to me. I can’t stand slaves who lack even basic manners. If you want to increase your ranking as a slave…work for it,” Asher’s cool reprimand with a smirk was a clear warning, his gaze icy as he regarded Rebecca, who clenched her jaw as she slowly got up despite the lingering pain.

Rachel lowered her gaze with guilt and shame upon hearing Asher repeatedly claiming her as his slave. It wasn’t because of her own pride but because it went everything against the title of Legion Prefect and the respect people gave her. Yet she also knew she wouldn’t be the Legion Prefect if not for Asher making her understand some harsh truths.

So all she could do now was preserve whatever was left of her integrity to navigate this complicated situation for the sake of the world.

“I haven’t heard your answer yet,” Asher added as he looked down at Rebecca who kept glaring at him.

“Understood…Master,” Rebecca said through gritted teeth before walking away, as if she didn’t want to stay anywhere near this fiend as long as possible.

As Rebecca’s shadow left the hall, Rachel’s voice, low and tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern, broke the ensuing silence, “Why would you bring someone that dangerous and unstable like her with you?”

Asher’s response was swift, his smirk revealing his confidence, “It’s precisely because of those factors that I brought her. With me, I can predict her moves because she’s incapable of acting against my wishes. But against my enemies…she will be a nightmare for them.”

Rachel’s stance hardened, her voice firm, betraying the turmoil in her, “Then I have no concerns, but…you must keep your promise. I’m risking everything to help you. Your threats of death or exposing what happened between us wouldn’t have swayed me without it. I have given up so much for this.”

His smile took on a different shade, a mix of surprise and a hint of something deeper, as he gently pinched her chin, “You’ve changed, Rachel. Gone is the naive and vain girl who would betray her best friend to save her skin. It’s good to see you’ve evolved into something better. Let’s hope it remains this way for your own good.”

The mention of her betrayal, the memory of Amelia’s trust and flesh pierced by steel, stirred a whirlpool of regret and shame within Rachel.

Yet, as she looked up into Asher’s eyes, her voice carried a weight, a blend of defiance and quest for truth, “I’m still searching for reasons to believe in your words…including those about my father.”

Asher’s scoff carried through the room as he walked past her, his gaze capturing the world outside the window, a world that forgot what he did for them, “You seriously think your father would share his darkest secrets with you? The closer you are, the deeper he’ll bury his sins.”

Rachel furrowed her brows, wondering how she was then supposed to find out if it was true or not.

But then, with a soul tormented by doubts and with a thirst for truth that had plagued her for a long while, she asked in a firm yet emotion-laden voice, “What do you know about…Golden Prince?” Asher’s smile was subtle, almost cryptic, as he continued to gaze out the window, his back to Rachel, “What makes you think I know anything about him? Did you forget I am a demon? You should ask your father. Wasn’t he the best friend of Golden Prince?” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with an underlying mystery.

Rachel’s frustration was palpable, her brows knitting together as she pressed on, her voice fervent with conviction, “See. This! You know something, or you know that my father knows something about the Golden Prince that I don’t. The way you spoke of my father during the quest… It wasn’t without basis.”

Asher raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise, “Why are you so curious about someone long dead and despised by your own people? Shouldn’t you share their hatred?”

Meanwhile, Rebecca, having retreated from the confrontation earlier, found herself eavesdropping, hidden from view. Even if she didn’t want to stay anywhere near that scum, she still wanted to learn whatever schemes he was cooking with these humans.

But most importantly, why were these two talking about that monster of a prince who terrorized their entire realm, even if it was only for a few years?

Thinking about it…the eyes of this bastard’s human avatar were quite similar to those of Golden Prince. What an eyesore…

Rachel, caught in a tumult of emotions, looked away, her voice trembling, “B-Because I…I feel like there was more to his death or whatever everyone is saying. I, at first, chose to not think about it because I felt betrayed. He was someone I looked up to…someone who mentored me, and someone whose ideals I admired with all my heart. But now I feel that he couldn’t have been a corrupt one…Not the Golden Prince I knew.”

After experiencing how her comrades turned against her without even trying to listen to her and branded her as a corrupted Hunter, she couldn’t help but wonder if something similar happened to Cedric.

Asher’s features momentarily softened at her admission, only to harden again as he challenged her past actions as he turned around to look at her, “You admired him, yet you denounced him to your juniors as corrupt,” he noted, his tone a blend of hidden anger and accusation, “What would he think, seeing his legacy tarnished by his own mentee? He must feel quite…betrayed.”

Tears welled in Rachel’s eyes, a mirror to the conflict raging within her, “I-I…It was in the past, and I…I don’t know the truth,” she stuttered, struggling with the weight of her emotions and the truths she dared not face.

“And what is the truth, according to you?” Asher pressed, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming, “Or do you merely and conveniently echo the sentiments of the masses?”

Her tears flowed freely now, yet Asher’s expression remained impassive, “Crying changes nothing, Rachel. The dead are beyond the reach of your tears. But if you truly respect him and his legacy, then seek the truth and honor it even if it means you have to go against those closest to you,” he said, his voice as firm as ever.

“I..I will honor it if he was really wronged…” Rachel said with gritted teeth as she raised her gaze, her tears now simmering with determination.

Asher could see that she still loved and trusted her father but at the same time he could see the foundation of her trust was this close to getting fractured. As expected, it wasn’t easy to break familial love.

Since Derek was her father, she wouldn’t get convinced with just words. But he can convince her to do his bidding, and finally, when she is ripe enough, he can give her the final push.

“Sounds fair. Until then, you will have to do everything as I say to find out the answers you seek,” Asher said as he nudged her chin with the back of his forefinger.

Rebecca, who overheard everything, furrowed her brows, wondering why these two, especially this bastard was so fixated on Golden Prince and even bothered to convince that blue-eyed bitch to work for him when he could just use dozens of ways to break her. He could have at least let her break this blue haired harlot.

Something definitely didn’t seem right here…