That evening, the top noble and also the person holding the decision that would determinate whether the elves would be integrated into Zagon or not was invited to the mansion of the Luna priestess. Located in the noble district next to the castle of Eiseinheim, the mansion was a gift for Cynthia from Morrigan as a gesture of goodwill. However, right now, that very gift could be at risk of drift away because if the priestess was unable to persuade Owen, it would mean that the elves would be homeless again.

In truth, if the people were adamant in staying, there was nothing Owen or anyone of the nobles could do to change that as they were the minority. However, at the moment, many were still confused about the idea of merging countries together. And that confusion could be taken advantage by Owen to use against Cynthia. Even more, confusion could cause a lot of chaos, leading to a forceful intervention from Zagon that might end this peace or even the extinction of the elves. While Cynthia's own intentions were still unknown, her master Alastor has instructed her to be the centre of the peace talk, making sure it would go smoothly. And that was something she must do at all cost if she ever wanted the old demon lords to keep their promise.

"Thank you for coming, Lord Owen!" Cynthia declared, slightly bowed her head to the fat man. Sitting on one side of this long table, Cynthia had her loyal knight standing firmly by her side.

"If the priestess of the moon called for me, I would have to abide to her wish, don't I? And I know why you invited me here so we can skip all the pleasantries. I already told you that I won't change my mind about the integration. And that's it." Owen loudly confirmed.

"What about the people? Don't you care what will happen to them? They will die out there without Zagon's assistance." Cynthia spoke.

"Our people have persevered through many challenges for millennia. They can survive this. Besides, I refuse to be Morrigan's dog and let our people be her servants. Unlike you, I actually think of the common folk." Owen smirked. He obviously didn't mean that in any sense of the word. Still, this was how the Game was played. "Unless Morrigan accepts our demand to restore our status, I won't yield."

"You know that's impossible." Said the priestess.

"Then this matter is off the table."

"....Is there absolutely nothing else I can do to convince you? At time like these, we cannot argue against each other. The fate of everyone lies in our hands." Pled Cynthia in a pitiful voice. Seeing her doing so because of this man, Luvik had to use all his will to maintain composure and to stop himself from murdering the shit out of the pig in front of him.

"Hum....if you are so resolute about this, it's not like I have a stone of heart. Perhaps we can reach out a....consensus." Owen grinned. "But I think first, we need to know a bit about each other first. If you know what I mean...Hehehe!"

"YOU....!" Unable to hold it any longer, Luvik stormed out, on the verge of drawing his sword. How dared this pig defile the delicate flower he was protecting?

"Stand now, Luvik!" shouted Cynthia.

"But he..."

"I said: stand down!" Cynthia raised her voice.

".....My apologies, milady!" moving his hand away from the sword's handle, Luvik regained his composure as he took a step back.

"I am surprised! Just a few days here and you already gained such a loyal dog. I wonder what you did to have him on your side in such a short time. Whatever it was, he must have enjoyed that." The noble continued his insult with a smirk on his face.

Blood was dripping out of the fist of the knight as he tried to restrain himself. You could see his eyes burning with anger toward the man in front of him. If only no one was nearby, he would have taken up his sword and slashed Owen into two.

"...Luvik, can you go outside and make sure no one come in?" Cynthia uttered.

"MILADY!" the commander shouted. But before he realized it, Cynthia was grabbing his hands. He could see that she was trembling yet somehow doing her best to stay calm. She was afraid. So why would she go to such length? Why was she doing this? In his mind, Luvik knew why. This woman was a saint. She would do anything for her people, even if it would cost her dearly. But why did this have to happen? He vowed to protect her from all the filth of the world. Yet, he couldn't do anything here or else everything she fought for would be for naught.....Why did he have to make this choice...

"...Please..."

"....Of course...milady!" With his mind determined, Luvik slowly walked to the door. Biting his lips, he looked at Owen who was slightly taken back when he passed by. This man....he would kill him when the first opportunity came. But now...he must not...not yet.

"It's going to take a while so do take a chair if you need one. I like to take my time when I talk. Hehehe!"

.....

With the door closed, the priestess was now left alone with that pig inside. Luvik wanted to cover his eyes and ears, preparing his heart for what might happen next. How could he call himself a knight when the one he loved was being defiled by that scumbag right behind these doors? How could he live with himself like this? The mere thought of what was happening inside was killing Luvik as he could only hope this nightmare would be over soon.

But unknown to him, something very different from what he thought was taking place inside. Unfortunately, these doors were quite thick so unless someone was screaming from inside, the commander would not hear a thing.

.....

"Now that bump is gone, how about we start with the introduction, priestess Cynthia?" Owen approached as he put his hand on her shoulders, caressing her in a sickening way. Feeling her shaking, that only excited the man even more. To him, the more they resisted, the better...or so was the twisted philosophy of a pig.

"Then with introduction we shall begin." Uttered the priestess.

Then, standing up as she moved away from the noble, Cynthia walked to the next room, leaving the man baffled. But in his mind right now, which was filled with lust and desire, he thought perhaps she didn't want the knight to hear them so maybe that was why she decided to move the 'actions' to the next room. Grinning by himself, imagining all the things he has waited for years to do with this beauty ever since the first moment they met, Owen followed Cynthia to the inside.

As she walked, Cynthia began to speak in the void to the noble.

"Lord Owen, do you have a good memory?"

What a weird question! Especially when you considered the circumstance and what they were about to do. But the fat man decided to answer anyway. "Of course, I do! I can remember the faces of everyone I have spoken too, for example! But enough of that, why not get to the real thing already? Or are you having a change of heart? Because if then, the deal is off." Owen grunted.

"Of course not! But would you oblige me and listen to a story I know of?"

"A story? I don't have that kind of time to ...."

"It will take only a moment. I assure you. By the end of it, I will make sure that it will be worth your while." Cynthia smiled.

"Hum...fine! Go ahead then!"

"There was once a little girl who was born into this world without parents. A poor tiny little soul abandoned in the woods, left to be eaten by the wandering beasts. Why was she abandoned? Why have her real parents forsaken her? Who knows? But in the end, she didn't die. The girl was found and adopted by a kind woman. As a simple baker, the woman barely made enough to feed herself and the useless husband in her home. Yet, she couldn't leave the baby where she found her. Her heart simply didn't allow her to do that. Perhaps it was her maternal instinct and the fact that she couldn't have a child that made her do so. And so the little girl gained a family.

For ten years, the little girl lived peacefully with the woman while avoiding the good-for-nothing father who only knew how to drown himself in alcohol. But the girl didn't complain. For she had a home, a place to go back to. However, like all dreams, everything that is good has to end one day.

On that fateful day, upon her return, the little girl found the woman lying in bed, motionless. Her head was dripping blood as shards of glass were all over her body. The woman was not breathing. She was dead, killed by the half broken bottle lying on the ground. But before the little girl could utter a single word or even scream, a pair of dark hands has caught her from behind, silenced her. The smell of alcohol was all over this person. At that moment, the little girl understood. The father has killed the poor woman out of anger for not bringing enough money to him. The little girl has seen him beating her many times to know that one day, things would end up too far. And that day has come.

The little girl blamed herself for not realizing it sooner. If she has sought help, perhaps things might not have ended this way. Alas, there was nothing more she could do. It was already too late to do anything. What would she do now? Where would she go? So many thoughts passed by her small head in that short moment. But there was one thing that the little girl didn't notice. Perhaps due to her innocent, naïve mind at the time, she couldn't understand it sooner. Her so called father has been looking at her with weird eyes, not with a look of a father at his daughter but something else, something twisted and deviant. In his vision, he saw a woman, a young woman waiting to be harvested.

Grabbing the little girl, he pushed the body of the woman to the ground and dragged the girl on the bed. Ignoring the sharp fragments of glass that were piercing her skin, he...." Cynthia suddenly stopped. Her hands were trembling, not just due to the fear she felt but also the enmity as she bit her own lips. Finally after a short moment of silence, she exhaled a long breath and released her muscle before resuming the story.

"After he had his way with her, the father went out as if nothing has happened, ignoring the crying child on the bed who didn't even understand what just happened to her. All she felt was pain and pain only, both physical and mental.

But her misery didn't just end there. No, it has only started. A moment later, the father came back with a group of strange men the little girl has never seen before. All of them, dirty and stinky, laid their eyes upon the girl who has been paralyzed on the bed for hours. It was only when she saw the few shiny gold coins one man handed to the father, she finally understood. Her father has sold her to the slavers. How could he, you may ask? To the father, the girl at her current state was nothing but a tainted cloth, a ravaged flower. He had already taken the sweet nectar he has craved for years.

There was no need to keep a used object anymore. The little girl had lost the only thing that made her precious to him.

And so she ended up being sold as a merchandise, to be toyed around by men. That experience, combined with her father's betrayal has scarred the girl for life. She developed a fear of men, unable to remain calm around them. Even till today, it takes her all of her focus just to behave normally around them, to keep her trembling habits in check."

"...An interesting story but what does this have to do with anything?" asked Owen in confusion.

"Do you remember the little girl you bought eight years ago? The one you locked inside your basement for two whole years?" Cynthia spoke softly.

"What? How do you..."

"The girl you used as a toy for your sick plays. The whipping you did to her. The burn you marked upon her face....That girl still remembers it clearly as if it was yesterday. Don't you want to know what happened to her?"

"What?"

"After she escaped from your mansion, the little girl spent a year as a beggar in the streets of Galahad. Covered with bruises and dirt, no one even wanted to approach her. Perhaps it was for the best as she no longer had to fear about any man coming to her anymore.

And so she spent her days in the sewers, under a dirty cloth, her only property. Day by day, she lived by thanks to all the leftovers people threw away. She did her best to survive. A pitiful and miserable life it was. Yet she persevered. Until one day when she was found by an old woman who took her in. After that, her life changed. She gained status, respect, despite how little it was. But still, it was much better than the life she led before. Yet, the little girl wasn't satisfied. Who would be? So God made her go through all those hardships, those nightmares and finally decided to bestow upon her the happiness he has taken away from her in the first place? So that would make everything okay? No, it doesn't.

Tell me, Lord Owen! What do you think helped that girl survive all those years? For what reason did she choose to live in pain instead of dying in peace?"

"...."

"So she could take revenge against the men that made her life this way. So she could make the world pay for what it has done to her."

At that moment, Cynthia slow reached out her hands to her head and removed the sun headpiece, revealing her true face to someone else for the first time in years. What lied beyond that mask? For what reason has Cynthia never shown anyone her face? A testament of the past, a remnant of the nightmares she went through, that was what it was. With golden eyes brimming even in the dark, Cynthia revealed a burned mark above her right eye. Taking the shape of a circle with a star inside, she brushed her hair to the side to show the mark clearly to Owen. Upon seeing it, Owen was taken by fear. He recognized that mark. He put it there in the first place. But that was years ago to a certain slave he bought....could it be...?

"You ...you are that kid from back then!" Owen uttered in dismay.

"You claim to have such good memory. Yet you can't even name the child you kept in your basement for two years? What a joke!" Cynthia said. One step at a time, she moved toward the fat man who was shaking up, sweating in fear. He knew what he did to that girl, to her. And now that same girl has come back for revenge. With each step forward from Cynthia, Owen took a step back until his back was against the wall.

"What..what do you want from me?"

"What do I want? Retributions for what you did to me!" From her sleeves, the woman took out a plain dagger and pointed it at the noble.

"You ...you can't kill me. If I die here, everyone would know that you did it and Morrigan's proposal would be nullified. You don't want that... do you?" The fat noble stuttered.

"You are right. I can't." All of the sudden, Cynthia reversed the knife, pointing it at herself. "But someone else will do it for me!" Without warning, she stabbed herself in the shoulder before collapsing to the ground.

"What the....?" Owen, confused by what was happening, could only stand there and watched as blood began to drip out of her wound, staining her pure white dress.

Panting in agony as she looked at Owen with spite, Cynthia uttered. "I wish...I could have done much more terrible things to you...but this...will have to do. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! " the priestess screamed loudly in pain.

.....

From outside, Luvik has been painfully waiting for the nightmare to end. But suddenly, a scream rang from inside. That voice, he could recognize it immediately. It was Cynthia's. Something must have happened to her. At this moment, Luvik no longer cared about anything. To hell with the duty, to hell with what they must sacrifice! He could not stay idle here any longer.

Bursting the door open with a kick, Luvik barged inside, only to see no one at the room where he left. They must have been further inside.

When he finally got into the room where the scream came from, Luvik was stupefied by the scene in front of him. The woman he loved was lying on the ground covered in blood with a knife sticking out of her. The pig that wanted to defile her was standing there, just looking at her.

With her teary eyes as the crimson liquid was weeping from her mouth to her chin, Cynthia looked at her knight with a painful expression.

"Luvik....help...me!"

Blood rushed to his head as the knight shouted with all his might in anger. How could that pig do this to his master? How could he do that to the holy maiden? How could he do that to the love of his life?

"YOU SON OF BITCH! HOW DARE YOU HURT HER?" Drawing his sword, the commander charged toward the dismayed Owen.

"Wait, I..."

But it was too late. The sword lunged itself forward and pierced Owen through his chest. The long sword went straight through, splatting the blood on the wall behind him. The fat man collapsed on his knees but he didn't die immediately. It was only now that the fat noble realized Cynthia's plan. He could not let this happen. If he was going to go down, he had to make sure that she would too. Holding on to the knight in his final moment, Owen still tried to tell him something but nothing lucid came out. His lungs were now flooded with blood, making him muttering intangible words. Still he tried desperately by looking at the knight with his wide open eyes, to send a message. But Luvik didn't care. Pulling the sword out of the bleeding fat body, the knight raised the blade high before dropping it down, chopping the head of the noble without ever getting his message.

The round head fell to the ground, the eyes still wide open as if it has not realized what just happened to it yet. Even creepier, the eyes moved toward Cynthia's direction, staring at her in dismay, only to see the smile on the dying priestess before everything went dark.

.....

By the next morning, the news of Owen's death has spread quickly among the populace and became the topic of every talk. But the 'truth' that has been announced and circulated was slightly different from what actually happened for several reason. To summarize, this was the report that the public and the nobles have been told.

'Priestess Cynthia has invited Owen to come to her mansion for a negotiation on the matter of the integration proposal. However, in the midst of the talk, Owen attempted to kill her out of anger. Luckily, a commander of the Zagon army was nearby and has executed Owen in time before he could finish her, leaving the priestess only critically wounded but not dead, allowing the healers to save her in time.'

To the eyes of the commonwealth, this has sparked an outrage among them. Cynthia has gained a lot of support from the common folk thanks to her previous actions. And unlike her, most of the nobles have been pictured as the evil top for letting Aldol do whatever he wanted and even now only cared about themselves rather than the people they were supposed to serve. Needless to say, an attempt on their idol by the one they already deemed as evil would not go unnoticed. At the moment, thousands of elves have gathered in front of the mansion of the many nobles, demanding justice while the rest prayed for the swift recovery of their priestess.