The instant the "Pain Devil" vanished, the dark great hall—which had still felt oppressive and suffocating under the radiance of the "Crown of Glory"—seemed to have been washed clean by fresh water, restoring its soft, bright ambience.
"We won!"
At the same time, her mind raced, considering what conditions might move the other party.
But Lucian showed not the slightest hint of relaxation. Both hands gripped "Pale Justice" as he watched the surviving noble heirs in the hall with wary eyes, his spiritual energy concentrated on the "Ice Medal," with "Silent Ice Coffin" ready to unleash at a moment's notice.
Whether it was "Loathing" or "Greed," their bizarre, nearly unkillable nature had left a deep impression on Lucian. "Pain" would likely be no exception. Perhaps right when he was rejoicing in victory and relaxing in safety, one of those noble heirs would display an agonized smile.
In theory, the best approach would be to kill every living creature other than himself—that way, "Pain" would have no new body to inhabit and would gradually dissipate. But these were the seven most mysterious and bizarre Devils, each tied to negative emotions. If he, swept up in a desire for momentary safety, succumbed to the urge to kill, then it might be himself that "Pain" or "Indulgence" ended up possessing! That would make matters far more troublesome—countless times harder than dealing with an external "projection."
His gaze swept over every surviving noble heir, lingering on each for a moment. The coldness in his eyes made them shudder involuntarily, panic and terror gripping them as they wanted to retreat but dared not move a single step.
After surveying roughly half the hall, his gaze settled on Sophia's face.
Although her heart also skipped a beat under that deep, indifferent gaze, the prepared Sophia quickly regained her basic composure. A sweet, charming smile bloomed on her face, her pink lips parting to express submission and initiate negotiation—as long as the other party named his terms, no matter what they were, there would still be room to maneuver.
She was actually rather confident, because after careful thought, she realized she had no real grudge against this mysterious Arcane Mage and no entanglement of interests. The Sun King's treasure could be handed over entirely to him; the secrets could be destroyed as he wished—she wouldn't look at a single one. The position of heir to the Goldrose family was never within her reach anyway, so there was no obstacle there. And her plot to assassinate "Borack" had crumbled before it even began, causing no actual harm.
On the contrary, her survival could offer him things he could never obtain in the underground palace: secrets of the imperial family, rare ancient texts she had collected over the years, wealth that would make most earls envious, and her own body as well as covert assistance in the future.
The words she had so carefully organized had just reached her lips when she noticed Lucian's gaze shift slightly downward. Reflexively, she followed his line of sight—and saw a large, conspicuous wet stain on her battle skirt. Behind her, along the path she had crawled, a long trail of moisture gleamed faintly, and where she had collapsed earlier, there was an outright puddle.
Flushed crimson in an instant, Sophia's sweet smile became more grotesque than tears. She felt her skin burning so hot it could fry an egg, and wished the ground would swallow her whole from sheer humiliation.
"How could I…" "This is so embarrassing, so embarrassing! I want to die!" "Why doesn't he have a shred of gentlemanly decency? Scoundrel! Scoundrel!"
Lucian had no time to concern himself with Sophia's feelings, though he did find it faintly amusing. The woman who had previously been ruthless, confident, and poised—now that all her trump cards were gone and she was trapped in a hopeless situation, she had completely lost her composure. If it were Natasha in the same position, she wouldn't flinch in the least; she would fight to the death, striving to seize that sliver of hope, without regret even if it killed her.
Truly incomparable.
Come to think of it, Sophia had only just turned twenty and already possessed fifth-rank strength. Bloodlines truly were something one could envy but never obtain. If one's bloodline was top-tier and one's talent exceptional, advancement speed could far exceed that of most Arcane Mages. But most Arcane Mages, in turn, surpassed most knights—after all, not everyone possessed such elite bloodlines, nor such terrifying talent. These were only a tiny, tiny fraction among the nobility. In ancient times, mages had killed hundreds of thousands of humans just to secure the stable inheritance of a single top-tier bloodline, over multiple consecutive generations.
And this was only the beginning. Their future advancement still relied on the tempering of their own will, no longer able to maintain rapid progression by exploring the world and approaching truth the way an Archanist could—as Lucian before her demonstrated. He was only a year her senior, yet already a sixth-circle Arcane Mage. If Sophia wished to become a high-ranking warlock, without extremely rare external assistance, it might take ten years, twenty years, or even longer.
A faint green ring of tranquility rippled outward. The noble heirs, who had relaxed considerably after the "Devil's" death, suddenly felt exhaustion flooding over them. Unable to resist, they collapsed and fell into deep sleep, leaving only Sophia untouched.
Using the time to recover his spiritual energy, Lucian placed alert spells on these noble heirs. If they woke or exhibited any unusual behavior, he would sense it immediately.
"Take me to the Sun King's secret chamber." He had no time to play hide-and-seek with a "Pain" Devil that might not have fully dissipated yet. Lucian spoke to Sophia in a low, stern voice.
"Ah… alright!" Sophia was momentarily stunned, then sprang to her feet without the slightest hesitation. "Mr. Arcane Mage, I'll do whatever you ask, as long as…"
She trailed off, suddenly at a loss for how to arrange her words.