Secain and Lorient opened the double doors leading into the private lounge, their back straightened, their expressions solemn. The Monster Girls behind them lowered their heads, their eyes glittering, their mouths unable to stop smiling. They carefully peeked inside, trying to remember the layout of the lounge.

Glancing at them, Iris chuckled.

“You all may disperse,” she said. “Go, fill yourself with pleasure.”

The attendants shouted their answers and went to have fun, all except Secain and Lorient, who remained by the doors. They stared at their mistress, her tender gaze longing for praises and rewards. They would only rest when their mistress could.

“You two should have fun, too.” Iris touched their cheeks. “When I come out, I hope you both will know each other intimately.”

Secain and Lorient turned to each other. Their fiery eyes flickered, and their chests tightened. They accepted Iris’s command and left, holding one another’s hands.

Away from the prying gazes, Secain and Lorient would embrace their desires. Their hands would explore the wonderland, and their hearts would unite. They would bring bliss to themselves and their partner.

Iris shook her head and stepped inside the private lounge. Her figure passed through an invisible film, which rippled like waves generated by a fallen pebble. The sounds from the outside faded. Within this room, only Iris, Parmin, and Morbi remained.

Parmin, sitting on a sofa, placed down the book she was reading and lifted her head.

“You’ve returned, Iris.” She wryly smiled. “I didn’t expect something like that to happen. I’ll compensate for what you’ve suffered.”

Morbi, leaning on her chair, grabbed her glass of colourful drink and swirled it. The fluid swayed like a delicate flower in the wind, its motion drunk and happy. She closed her eyes and sniffed, her mind immersing in a subtle mixture of scents.

“Despite the peril, you suffered little and achieved much more than required,” Morbi said. “As expected of The Court’s favourite.”

Parmin glared at Morbi, who returned a smirk to her. The two silently argued with their looks as if Iris weren’t in the room.

“You know I would be fine, don’t you?” Iris said. “You know that they would attack me, that The Grand Formation wouldn’t hurt me.”

Parmin tilted her head. Her eyes contracted. “I would never send you to danger. Not when Ludmint is watching so close.”

“Without The Grand Formation, I was never in real danger. Even if a Grandmaster came for me, Memory Forever Cherished will protect me long enough for you to rush in.

“And there must also be hidden protectors around me, are there not?”

Morbi took a sip of her drink and smirked. “Parmin, if you don’t answer it, I will.”

Parmin harrumphed. She wanted to pinch Morbi’s face, but she must tell Iris the truth first. She softened her expression and lowered her head, her cheeks puffed.

“There are three Transformation Phase Monster Girls following you,” she said.

“Where were they . . . when some of us died?”

“Don’t blame them. They tried to save those they could; the rest is my fault.”

“Why . . . did you have to hide it from me?” Iris turned away, trembling. “When I took on The Grand Formation, I thought myself a sinner of The Court, a failure of a senior member.

“I brought upon me, not just me, but all my attendants, all those who believed in me, a disaster. My sacrifice would have given me salvation and them survival.

“Now, I look like a fool. I shielded my heart for nothing, all because I trust you!”

Iris bit her lips, her eyes welling. “Am I . . . still not one of you?”

Her voice lingered as an invisible mist that muddled the atmosphere and stuck to every surface. She walked to a sofa and sat on it, planting her face in her hands. Her human disguise reverted to her Slime Girl appearance, though her slime colour remained greyish blue as if ashes had tainted her body.

Morbi took a deep breath and turned to Parmin. The amusement in her eyes vanished, replaced by solemnity she rarely revealed. She ceased her banter and furrowed her brows.

“Iris!” Parmin rushed toward Iris and hugged her delicately. Iris’s cold body didn’t deter her from squeezing her warmth into Iris. “We didn’t deceive you because we rejected you. It’s a request!”

Parmin’s figure melted, her human disguise dissolving into a pile of strings. As her body enlarged, her legs split into eight appendages. Her lower body morphed into a spider abdomen, with her upper human body merged with it. Despite her height, she appeared meek and shy, panicking, unable to think of any consolation.

Iris held onto Parmin. Her vague sobbing persisted. “Why . . . did you lie?”

“I’m sorry; I won’t do it again, so please don’t cry.” Parmin knelt, making her height similar to Iris. Her Spider Girl appearance, red like cherry, concealed her nervous flush, but it couldn’t mask her heating body.

“Will you make a promise?” Iris tightened her grip on Parmin.

“I promise. You’re our favourite. None of us will harm you.”

“But I spent the wealth of The Court on unnecessary things. I’m not worthy of my position. I’m a failure!”

“We gave you that wealth to spend. If you buy something with it, they’re yours.”

“My attendants, the attendants The Court entrusted to me, my incompetence failed them.”

“They knew of the risk and chose to follow you.” Parmin clenched her fists. “I sent them knowing the danger. I will compensate their family and friends. You did nothing wrong.”

“I . . . don’t feel like I belong here. The Court has given me much, yet I’m unable to reciprocate its grace.”

“No.” Parmin pulled Iris away and stared into her eyes. “You’ve done much for us. Don’t underestimate your sacrifice. You’ll only hurt those whom you protect.”

Iris averted her gaze. A single teardrop dripped from her right cheek and reached the floor. She took a deep breath, relaxed her embrace, and separated herself from Parmin.

“I must’ve sounded childish,” Iris said. “Can I ask one last question?”

“I’m happy to answer even more.”

“Is Jania behind this?” Iris raised her head. A playful grin appeared on her face. “Is she a patron of The Court?”

Eyes widened, Parmin stepped away from Iris. Her spider legs slipped, and she tripped. She caught the rails and got up, her arms trembling, her cheeks flushed. Her panic made Iris feel guilty, but she revealed nothing lest they knew she also had shame in her heart.

“Iris, why did you think so? Jania isn’t the one who requested it,” Parmin said.

“Are you going to lie to me . . . again?” Iris’s eyes welled. “Didn’t you promise?”

“I—Jania’s our patron; she just wanted to surprise you.” Parmin turned to Morbi and blinked pitifully.

Morbi sighed. “Jania used her authority as the Fifth Princess to modify The Grand Formation. She registered all senior members and would have helped all Monster Girls if she could. Now, don’t torment Parmin anymore. She’s mine.”

Iris looked to Morbi, sniffled, and smiled. She wiped her tears, regaining her cheerful disposition. After nuzzling Parmin until she stopped panicking, Iris retrieved the chest she got from the Suppression Sect. Returning it was her mission.

“The mystical bone you required is inside this chest,” Iris said. “Whose bone is this?”

Parmin dryly coughed. As her respectable air returned, her appearance morphed back to the human appearance. Her pale-white strings wrapped around her spider body and shrunk them until her modest, traditional beauty returned.

“It’s an intact bone of a Twilight Drowner, a Mythical Creature of the sea. The Twilight Drowners can control the tide of the ocean and manipulate the weather.

“When it was born, its power is akin to the Transformation Phase, and when it reaches maturity, it’s at the height of the Condensation Phase. However, it has reportedly gone extinct aeons ago.”

“Is it something the Court Founder wants?”

Parmin chuckled. “It’s what Morbi and I want. Our innate talents are similar to their bloodline power. We can progress our power by studying and absorbing the bone.”

“I thought the missions of The Court were for the benefit of all Monster Girls.”

“We exchanged our contribution points for this mission. Three senior members are to bear witness to our transaction. You can too, though you will also need two senior members to approve your transaction.”

Iris nodded. “Then, what is . . . the evaluation?”

Parmin turned around and walked to Morbi, who got up from her chair. They exchanged eye contact and observed Iris. Their presence gained a quality which brought silence to the room and brilliance to the atmosphere.

“You’ve completed your objective flawlessly. Additionally, you fended off an ambush of the Evil Cults, used The Grand Formation to misdirect the investigation of the Churches, and established an intimate link with the Suppression Sect,” Parmin said.

“As the senior members overseeing your mission, we declared your performance paramount. It’s the highest degree of completion. With it comes extra reward and contribution points.”

Iris smiled, her hands fiddling with her hair. “I merely did what I could.”

“The Helix Pin and the broken vessel you brought with you are worthy of the highest evaluation.”

Iris lowered her head, shifting her feet. Her heart raced, filled with proudness and happiness. Parmin and Morbi’s formal praise echoed in her mind, dispelling her lingering sorrow and despondency. If not for her self-restraint, she would have jumped and danced around the private lounge.

Parmin and Morbi wouldn’t mind it, but she would.

Once she calmed down, Iris bowed at Parmin and Morbi. Her lips curved into a bright grin.

“Thank you, Big Sister Parmin, Big Sister Morbi,” she said. “I shan’t disturb you anymore. There is something I need to do after this.”

“When you are ready,” Parmin said, “write me a letter a day in advance, and I’ll dress up and lead you to our dating spot. May our date be wonderfully unforgettable.”

Iris jolted as she silently walked out of the private lounge. Her figure passed through the thin membrane, exiting the tranquillity of the inside, entering the liveliness of the outside.

When the double doors closed shut, Parmin returned to her table and picked up the book she hadn’t finished reading. While reading, she glanced at Morbi, who watched her unblinking.

“Has my look charmed you?” Parmin said.

“You should know best. A Red Thread Weaver needs not my answer to know my emotions. They string themselves for you to tease, manipulate, or tie the knots.” Morbi narrowed her eyes. “I might have fallen for her trick, but you couldn’t. Why didn’t you tease her?”

“Am I that evil?” Parmin laughed, yet her voice expressed not her embarrassment but her worry. “Our Iris is strong, determined, and pretty, but she is . . . surprisingly fragile.

“Within her falsehood lies her pain. Within her mask lies her wounds. She . . . indeed felt inadequate. She . . . indeed thought she did not belong.”

Parmin gazed at the closed doors. On its handle, Iris’s warmth lingered. It gradually dispersed into the cool atmosphere, vanished from this reality, unnoticeable to all but those who scrutinised it.