Led by Morbi, Iris and Secain walked through collapsed buildings and past piles of shaking debris. Rocks and splinters tumbled down and cracked upon impact, spewing out dust. These tiny, irritating particles muddled the smoke-filled air.

Iris passed by corpses laying in pools of blood. Some were of her kind, others her enemies, but the worst of all were the innocent collateral, children and teachers of the orphanage.

Morbi looked at the corpses of her people and, sighing, flicked her right hand. The air surrounding the dead tightened, assembling into a long piece of invisible fabric. It wrapped around the carcass and twisted reality, pulling the corpses into the void.

Though she couldn’t give them a funeral, she’d still give them a burial.

“We underestimated them,” she said. “The Founder’s concealment lost its effect, The Grand Formation failed to detect them, and we grew careless.”

Iris surveyed her surroundings. The visages of buildings once tall and joyous lingered in her vision. Sounds of children’s and workers’ chatting whispered all around. She blinked, and a powerful explosion swept the scene, dissipating illusions of the past.

Secain squeezed her mistress’s right hand. Her warmth seeped inside her mistress’s membrane. The cold temperature chilled her fingers, but she dearly held on, exchanging her heat with her mistress’s.

Iris creased her brows. She looked to Secain, who also looked at her, and shook her head. A moved smile manifested on her face as her other hand poked Secain.

“Taking advantage of me?” Iris said. “Do you not fear Miss Morbi?”

Secain pouted. “You teased me again. I only want to comfort you, Mistress.”

“I know. I know it all too well.” Iris pinched Secain. “My body’s still sensitive. Do you wish for me to lose myself?”

Secain wanted to hug her mistress and let her mistress take her heart, but she couldn’t act on it. Lady Morbi would take her body faster than her mistress. A pity.

She drew back her hands, beamed at her mistress, and peeped at Morbi, who soundlessly observed them.

Iris turned to Morbi. “The Mark of Concealment on my body also dimmed.”

Morbi’s eyes swirled. “Congratulations, Iris. Since the founding, there have only been four senior members to receive The Founder’s grace.”

“Is Lady Vindette one of them?”

“The first and the strongest.” Morbi tapped her darkened lips. Her mouth curved into an unreadable smirk. “The other two, you must’ve met one. The last, it’s up to luck.”

“I’ve already met Lady Antina. Who . . . could have been the last?”

“That’s classified information, Iris. I could tell you, if you can offer me something of equal value.”

Iris inhaled. Her cheeks pinkened. She swayed her body and coyly slant her head. “Could you please . . . make an exception for me?”

Morbi giggled. “She’s a rogue Monster Girl, one comparable to Lady Vindette. Her name . . . you’ll get to know it when we go on our date.”

“You’re terrible, Morbi.”

“I’m an Undead, after all.”

Iris and Morbi left the wreckages. A few patrolling Monster Girls, upon seeing Iris, dropped everything and rushed to her. Under Morbi’s presence, they restrained themselves from throwing their bodies at their Iris, though they still expressed their concerns.

Lorient slipped out of the group and made her way to her mistress. She hung her head low, her eyes staring at the ground, at Iris’s feet.

She failed to protect her mistress once again.

“Is Lorient at fault, Secain?” Iris said. “Do you believe her to be lacking?”

Secain perked up and shook her head vigorously. “She’s done no wrong, Mistress. Like me, she’s put her all into protecting you, even if you didn’t want it.”

Iris’s mouth curved up. “I’d let you punish her if you deem her faulty.”

“We may be love rivals, but our goals align. We’re yours, and only you can play with us.”

“What a lovely pair,” Morbi said. “Would you tell me how you cultivate your attendants? Having a few like them would considerably brighten my day.”

“Am I not enough?” Iris said.

“You aren’t mine, Iris. I can get terribly possessive, wickedly obsessive. Parmin, she’s suffered much under my hands. Do you also wish to experience it?”

Iris shook her head; she’d never seen the acts, but she’d seen Parmin’s fright. She didn’t want to experience any more sinful things. Not when her unstable heart could barely hang onto itself.

“Where . . . is Ludmint? Where is Parmin?” Iris said. “Are they safe?”

“I’m here, Iris. You can examine my body if you like.”

Parmin glided through the air and landed in front of Iris. She looked into Morbi’s aloof eyes and shyly beamed before focusing her attention on her Iris, whose eyes gained a new mystique quality, a new layer of mystery.

“Congratulations. You’ve finally become one of us,” Parmin said.

Lorient blinked. She stared at her mistress, but her perception failed to detect any hint of overflowing, condensed Corruption Power. Mistress remained an unknowable void, though her elegance intensified, on the verge of divinity.

“Congratulations, Lady Iris!” the rest of the Monster Girls cheered. Their voices reverberated throughout the ruin.

Iris raised her right hand and clenched it. Her aura stirred. An invisible current swept outward. It wrapped around the Monster Girls and their attendants. Their palpitating hearts slowed; their quickened breathing relaxed.

Parmin and Morbi stared at Iris, who gave them a delicate smile.

“You’ve just entered the Condensation Phase, yet you already have an understanding of your own,” Parmin said. “Not even Ludmint is this talented.”

“I’m merely lucky. Opportunities favour me.” Iris turned to her followers. “Have you all gotten enough rest? The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it’ll be for all of you. The Court cannot allow such needless risk.”

Lorient puffed up her chest. “We’re the last batch to leave. Our purpose is your whereabouts, Mistress.”

The Monster Girls nodded. Most of The Court left for the emergency hideout. Only a few without any crucial missions on hand could volunteer to search for the missing Iris and other survivors.

Iris sighed. She couldn’t change their minds no matter how she tried. They were that lovely. “I . . . cannot leave this place just yet.”

Secain paused. “Why is that? Do you not love us anymore?”

“That’s impossible, Secain.” Iris turned to a particular person hiding in the crowd. “Before I set off, I need my last attendant beside me. Why are you hiding from me, Barineer?”

Barineer, cloaked in an ordinary attendant uniform, shrank back, but she couldn’t escape the curious, frisky gazes of the Monster Girls surrounding her. She pulled back her hood and flashed a pathetic smile.

“I don’t deserve that place, Lady Iris,” she said. “I’m yet to be a member of The Court, and my mixed allegiance might conflict with your interests.”

“You’re a rogue Master Assassin, your heart not with The Court or The Order, but with your dearest.” Iris extended her right hand. “We’ve helped each other; I consider us friends. Do you?”

“I would never betray my benefactors, you or The Order. Are you willing to trust me not to harm The Court?”

“I keep my enemies close, friends even closer.”

Secain leaned on her mistress. Lorient stared at Secain and then also inched towards her mistress. Their bodies pressed onto Iris, who wrapped her arms around their wrists and pulled them inwards.

Barineer took a deep breath. Though she and Iris only interacted, in intimate terms, in her subliminal dream, Iris’s impression had permeated her body and mind. The grace she commanded, the influence she wielded, and the joy she offered, they tempted all, Corrupted or Pure.

Iris was her benefactor. Becoming her subordinate was only right.

Barineer straightened her back and shifted her smile into a confident one. She skipped towards her new mistress. Her light footwork tapped on the ground, creating a subtle vibration, whose resonance resembled a faded melody.

She came before Iris, took Iris’s hand, and kissed its back. Her lips grazed the membrane, and her tongue lightly glided on it. A fruity flavour simmered in her mouth. An invisible string of energy entered her body, tickling the back of her throat, reaching her chest and finally her heart.

As she indulged herself under Iris’s tender gaze and others’ jealousy, she allowed the foreign energy to flow inside her. Her faith never wavered.

“And now until my ultimata, my blade shall aim where Mistress wishes. My heart shall beat when she desires,” Barineer said.

“Lovely vow, Barin. I’ll gladly take your heart and store it in mine, now until my ultimata.”

Iris let go of her two attendants, who reluctantly stepped away, and pulled her new maid into her. She embraced Barineer while channelling her Corruption Power. It morphed into a drizzle of cosiness that rained on Barineer, dispelling the unease stemming from her past.

The Monster Girls cried their cheers. They shouted their wishes, though they dared not acted upon them. They sneaked a peek at Morbi, who focused on her beloved Parmin. Parmin grabbed her hands and kissed them. Her moist lips dampened Morbi’s gloves, revealing her pale skin.

“Your plead won’t go unheard, Parmin,” Morbi said. “But it cannot absolve your mistakes.”

“My mind is ready, Dear,” Parmin said. “Just . . . don’t be too harsh.”

“Only if you beg me to stop.”

Parmin blushed. She let go of Morbi’s hands and turned to Iris. She faked coughing, pulling attention unto herself, and took a deep breath.

“We shouldn’t delay it any longer.” Parmin pointed at the sky. “Once the power of concealment fully dissipated, The Grand Formation will sweep the area and detect our presence.”

The Monster Girls quickly transformed their appearances to those of Pure Races. Those who couldn’t yet change their looks did so with the magical potions of The Court as well as their makeup and attires.

Iris raised her right hand and positioned it in front of her face. As her hand swept her figure, her azure slime transmuted into bouncy, snow-like skin. Her membrane weaved itself into a set of delicately laced dresses and a summer hat. Her feathery aura blended in but also stood out from her kind.

“There’s no hiding your charm, Iris,” Parmin said. “You must’ve been a princess in your past life.”

“Can’t I be one in this life?”

“If that’s your wish, Your Royal—”

“It seems I’ve been too lenient on you, Parmin.” Morbi grabbed Parmin’s chin and stroked her right cheek. “Your lack of self-restraint cannot be blamed on her unforgettable charm.”

“I was only joking, Honey!”

The rest of the Monster Girls averted their gazes, yet they all also peeped. Iris shook her head and clapped her hands.

“Lady Morbi, please don’t be too harsh on her. We still need her to guide us.”

Morbi assented before she looked into Parmin’s nervous eyes. “Let’s continue this conversation later. There are too many eyes here. I don’t want to sink your reputation just yet.”

“How could you say that to your wife?” Parmin said.

Morbi glared at her, and Parmin sealed her mouth. If she pushed too far, Morbi might punish her then and there, in front of Iris, in front of her subordinates. That . . . would be petrifying.

With Morbi reigning over, Parmin led Iris and the rest out of the wreckage. They entered a labyrinth of intersections and turns, where people of questionable origin frequented. They lowered their hoods, tilted their heads, and contracted their postures so as not to reveal their faces.

The Monster Girls emerged in an unfamiliar street away from Yellow Dandelion Orphanage. Few pedestrians, adorned in luxurious and wealthy outfits, walked the street. They were the rich and the noble, and they came here to indulge in their desires, to buy what they wanted, and to experience what they had not.

Parmin came to a stop in front of a large building, where a few noble ladies entered and exited, chatting softly about their latest gossip.

A receptionist dressed in a sleek black uniform came forwards. She looked at Parmin and then Morbi before she trembled. A blissful smile overcame her face. She excitedly bowed.

“Madam Morbi, your Shivering Heart Salon welcomes you.”