In Room 201 on the second floor of Lichtenstein Castle, a completely different kind of conversation was taking place.
There was no fear, no torture—only focused, polite dialogue.
All the lamps had been lit, making the room far brighter and warmer than the one next door.
A wide window let in ample moonlight, which blended with the glow of the lamps to illuminate the murals on the walls.
“Then let’s begin on our side as well.”
Leaning back in his chair, Lan Qi held a cup of tea in hand, occasionally blowing across the steaming surface.
In front of them sat a square table. Lan Qi and Huperion were on one side.
Huperion held a pen, ready to take notes.
“Please cooperate with us as much as possible.”
By now, Huperion had grown very accustomed to speaking in polite, businesslike tones.On the other side of the table sat the imperial noble girl, shackled with iron cuffs on both wrists and ankles.
Even though the screams from the neighboring room were muffled by the wall, they were still faintly audible—endless, chilling.
In comparison, it was clear that Lan Qi and his group were treating this noble girl far more courteously.
After all, her status in the Kray Empire was likely not low.
“Your name.”
“…Alexia.”
“Age, identity, and residence.”
“……”
Alexia fell silent.
With death so near, she had no mind to answer such trivial questions.
“Don’t worry. We’ve already shut off the [Shadow World Recording System]. Nothing we say here will be heard by anyone else, and the noise next door won’t disturb the audience in the living world either.”
Lan Qi’s tone was calm as he spoke.
Huperion immediately glanced at him, uncertain whether he was speaking normally—or making veiled threats.
It almost sounded like he was hinting: If you don’t cooperate, we can send you to the room next door instead.
“I am Alexia Gaimedia Julius, Third Imperial Princess of the Kray Empire.”
Alexia frowned slightly, her voice edged with impatience.
She did not like this inexplicably self-assured boy.
Plainly struggling, yet still putting on airs as though everything was in his grasp.
During the day she could understand this—mind games, psychological tactics.
But now, with a vampire count about to arrive, his calm demeanor was nothing but foolishness.
He had no idea how terrifying the Bloodkin truly were.
“…?”
Huperion stiffened, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.
They had the Third Princess of the Kray Empire bound and under interrogation. If not for Lan Qi’s foresight in shutting down the [Shadow World Recording System], this would’ve been a catastrophic live-broadcast scandal!
The Kray Empire was leagues above any kingdom of the southern continent. Angering it would leave even the Kingdom of Hedon in dire straits.
Yet Lan Qi only nodded, indifferent to her identity—treating all before him as equals.
“Your Highness Alexia, were you aware that your two companions are Resurrectionists?”
The only concession he made was to add an honorific.
“I didn’t know. They were my classmates and companions at the Royal Academy of Kray.”
The princess’s reply was curt, blunt.
She had no interest in lying.
She knew that with that gray-haired, red-skirted demon nearby, any emotion of hers would be magnified—lies would be instantly exposed.
And truthfully, for a princess to be tied up and interrogated like this was already a grave offense.
Even across borders, the Kray Empire could have demanded extradition.
But she had no mind, nor need, to pursue such things.
“I also believe the Resurrection Church wouldn’t have infiltrated the Kray royal family.”
Lan Qi smiled faintly, signaling to Huperion that she could remove the cuffs and chains.
After all, Alexia had already been stripped of all her purple-grade and lower spell cards. Even if she tried casting magic, the Silence Spell would counter it.
Huperion nodded, quickly unlocking the restraints.
The sound of falling metal echoed on the floor.
“Phew…”
Seeing the princess no longer bound like a criminal, Huperion finally let out a breath of relief.
But Alexia remained slouched lifelessly against the chair, motionless like a doll.
It was hardly different from when she’d been tied up.
“Young people ought to have more spirit…”
Lan Qi looked at the princess and sighed helplessly.
Continuing this exchange might draw out more truths, but there was no real significance.
What Lan Qi truly wanted to test was only one thing.
Earlier, under the influence of the Poet of Love, Princess Alexia had shown intense fear of the Bloodkin.
Just how much truth did she already know?
After all, about a year and a half later—when the true story of the “game” began—only Lan Qi knew these key facts:
That the Kray Empire would be gradually consumed and controlled by the resurgent Bloodkin.
That the southern Kray Empire was, in truth, their ancient nest.
That Duke Megaya’s disappearance was tied both to the empire and to the Bloodkin.
But according to current international affairs, the Kray Empire still appeared as magnificent as ever, showing no sign of Bloodkin corruption.
For a princess of her standing, with eighth- and even ninth-tier guardian heroes at her side, there was no reason to fear mere low-tier Bloodkin lurking on the borders.
Unless… she had already glimpsed traces of danger within the empire itself.
“To be infiltrated to this degree, your Kray Empire is truly incompetent.”
Lan Qi took a sip of tea, sighing as though in passing.
“Our Kray Empire has not been infiltrated at all!”
For the first time, Alexia snapped with some fire, raising her eyes to glare at him, as though he had struck a nerve.
“I was referring to the Resurrection Church.”
Lan Qi chuckled, looking at her with mild surprise and puzzlement.
As though he couldn’t fathom why she was so agitated.
“……”
Alexia stared at him, unsure if she was simply too sensitive, or if this man was deliberately provoking her.
But… it couldn’t possibly be the latter.
How could a mere youth from the Hedon Kingdom know of the desperate fate festering beneath the Kray Empire’s surface?
Her expression dimmed again, sinking back into lifeless despair.
She didn’t even have the energy left to retort.
For she too knew—the empire was being infiltrated.
But there was no one she could tell.
Even if she voiced the truth—“That the mighty Kray Empire was being silently corroded by the terrifying Bloodkin”—
No one would believe her.
They would only think the princess mad.
And the Bloodkin would ensure her silence before the words could spread.