Cassandra’s hand, clutching a wine glass, paused mid-motion.
By the time she regained her composure and turned to look, the speaker was nowhere to be found.
This strange maid was like a stray gust of wind; once she brushed past, she vanished without a trace.
“…”
Cassandra’s pupils constricted slightly.
“Tea Party.”
She had only learned this name yesterday from Mr. Charlie of the Crimson Order. He described them as an ancient, hidden organization that wished to make contact with her.
Mr. Charlie hadn’t offered much in the way of concrete details regarding this clandestine group.
Cassandra hadn’t truly cared, even as Mr. Charlie repeatedly hinted that this secret society could provide her with immense leverage. After all, how much help could they realistically offer?
Cassandra simply offered a dismissive sneer at the thought.
An organization that shrouded itself in shadows and masks was usually classified as nothing more than a cult by state institutions.
The only reason she had kept the Crimson Order around until now wasn’t because they were special; she simply needed a suitable “black glove” to do her dirty work. As for whose hand was inside the glove? That was irrelevant.
Such cultist groups were sufficient for handling sordid affairs, but if she truly wanted to compete with the other princesses, she had to rely on the political power firmly within her grasp.
The Church of Storms, the Grand Dukes, the Princes, the various Noble Houses, and even the “friendships” of other Empires… that was the kind of momentum required to seize the throne.
However, now that this “Tea Party” maid had appeared so brazenly at Grand Duke Hilton’s private banquet, Cassandra realized that this group might not be as simple as she had initially imagined.
“…Did she sneak in, or is she fundamentally connected to the Grand Duke?”
Cassandra’s gaze sharpened. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her glass, causing faint cracks to spiderweb across the surface.
To infiltrate a Grand Duke’s private manor so imperceptibly was a feat Cassandra doubted even her own “Hidden Blade”—the girl named Moraia—could achieve.
Moraia possessed an incredibly thin presence and a dampened aura; she was a natural-born master assassin. Moreover, she wielded the Transcendental ability to perform Spatial Warps over short distances, paired with the touch-and-die Holy Artifact, The Guillotine. As long as she could close within three hundred meters of a target, their death was a certainty.
But even so, hiding from the vigilant eyes of the Ian Manor’s Guardian Ritual was an almost impossible task.
As a Grand Duke who stood above ten thousand but beneath only one in the Kingdom of York, Hilton was surrounded by countless talents. There were even rumors that a Transcendental powerhouse equivalent to a High Priest of the Church of Storms sat in residence at the manor… though those rumors remained unverified.
“The former implies that ‘Tea Party’ is powerful beyond my imagination, while the latter… implies they are tied to Grand Duke Hilton?”
In this race for the throne, what exactly were the Grand Duke’s intentions?
Cassandra watched Hilton from afar—he looked like nothing more than a simple, honest middle-aged man—while her mind sifted through old whispers. In the most widely circulated accounts of his deeds, Grand Duke Hilton had never once been called a “good man.”
“Very well.”
A glint of sharp resolve flashed in Cassandra’s eyes.
She stood up, letting go of the ill-fated wine glass covered in ice-like cracks.
The wine stains on the table slowly evaporated in the heat of the banquet hall, releasing a faint, alluring fragrance that seemed to whisper of life and death.
“I shall see for myself exactly what game this ‘Tea Party’ is playing.”
“Your wife ran off. Aren’t you going to follow her?” Luo Wei said lazily, looking like she couldn’t be bothered by anything.
In reality, she was currently in a state of dual-focus. Most of her consciousness was concentrated on the Maid Puppet, Rita, on the other side of the hall; after all, the contact with Cassandra was far more important.
“Hmm?”
Sir Dax turned his head, appearing somewhat surprised by Cassandra’s departure.
However, his gaze did not linger for long. He turned back and replied with a light chuckle, “To be precise, she is my fiancée. But before that title, she is the most noble Princess of this Kingdom—I have no right to dictate her movements.”
Cassandra was not some delicate, submissive woman. She was proud and frigid. Even though her status was among the highest at this banquet, no one dared to try and curry favor with her.
The other princesses—even Eliana—had various nobles approaching them for conversation. Only Cassandra, aside from her initial greeting to Eliana, had spent the rest of her time drinking alone in the corner.
Originally, Sir Dax had intended to stay by her side, but even as her fiancé, he found it difficult to maintain such silence in the middle of a grand banquet. He had finally been unable to restrain himself and wandered out to socialize.
Cassandra seemingly had no objection to this.
She was dismissive of it all.
Fiancé or otherwise, they were all merely pawns for her to reach the pinnacle of power and stand above the masses.
Cassandra never hid her attitude; she was like a peacock standing apart from the world.
Meanwhile, Hathaway was introducing Sir Dax’s background inside Luo Wei’s mind. Unlike her lack of familiarity with Cassandra, Hathaway surprisingly knew a fair bit about this gentleman.
The reason was quite simple.
Sir Dax’s grades in his university major frequently ranked in the top five of his year.
Luo Wei couldn’t help but criticize internally. Miss Hathaway always said her thoughts were disorganized, yet here Hathaway was—who remembers people based on their academic rankings?!
From the information Hathaway provided, Luo Wei pieced together Sir Dax’s profile: A noble from a traditional Ancient House, wants to be Prince Regent, calculating… though not quite as clever as he thinks.
“Actually, I’m quite concerned about that disaster in Kolun County, Miss Luo Wei.”
Seeing that Luo Wei was the type who could drag a conversation to the ends of the earth, Sir Dax realized that if he kept dallying, they’d end up talking about God-knows-what. He got straight to the point.
The official reports regarding the Kolun County disaster were extremely fragmented. Anyone with eyes knew something was being hidden.
Of course, most files involving Transcendental disasters were similarly incomplete. Part of it was due to poor record-keeping, and part of it was because they involved Untouchable-Class or even Unknowable-Class entities.
Sir Dax brought this up because he felt these omissions were intentional.
He was right, of course. Kolun County had deliberately suppressed key information. After all, with the “Remnant Tower” having just assassinated the Queen, another disaster involving the deity Li would be far too conspicuous.
“As I thought, they’ve got their eyes on me…” Luo Wei noted inwardly.
He wasn’t interested in the disaster; he was interested in her.
Matters involving Eliana were truly a headache.
If she had known Eliana’s true identity earlier, Luo Wei certainly wouldn’t have been so high-profile, drawing so much unwanted attention. Who would have guessed an Inquisitor from the middle of nowhere was actually the heir to the throne?
“Mhm, I’m very concerned as well.” Luo Wei nodded with fake solemnity, then pulled Hathaway in front of her. “She was an eyewitness. You can ask her—provided she is permitted to answer.”
Hathaway: “?”
A crack appeared in Sir Dax’s perfect smile.
Who didn’t know this nun was from the Church of Silence?
“It seems Miss Luo Wei truly does not wish to converse with me. I shall be sensible and take my leave. Farewell.”
Sir Dax took a deep breath, managing to give himself a dignified exit.
“Don’t let the door hit you,” Luo Wei waved her hand dismissively before returning to her food.
“…”
As Sir Dax turned away, a flash of pure malice crossed his face.
He had originally wanted to understand why this little girl was worth Cassandra sending Moraia to kill. Perhaps, just perhaps, he might have saved her life to take her under his wing.
Now, however… Good riddance. This little brat’s loose tongue deserves to be silenced by Moraia’s blade!
To outsiders, he and Cassandra were the golden couple—a pair to be envied. In truth, their relationship was less like a couple and more like… allies.
Cassandra wanted to be Queen, and Sir Dax wanted to be Prince Regent. Together, the forces backing them were more powerful than any other princess’s supporters, so they had formed an engagement.
If the princess with the best prospects wasn’t Cassandra, and if the representative of the Four Great Houses wasn’t Dax, they would never be in this position.
There was no love, only pure exploitation.
Therefore, Dax had very little ability to influence what Cassandra chose to do—such as using Moraia to assassinate the Queen. That had been Cassandra’s idea, and it was executed before Dax even knew the plan existed.
Had he known in advance, Dax’s cautious nature would never have allowed for such a risky gamble. He had gifted Moraia to Cassandra, but he never intended for her to be used to assassinate the Queen.
Had the assassination failed, the Queen could have used the attempt as an excuse to start a new Great Purge, making life difficult for all the nobles. Fortunately, the plan had succeeded.
“Cassandra…”
The thought made Dax’s heart heavy. If he could choose a fiancée again, he might be more careful; Cassandra was simply too difficult to control.
“You… you…”
Hathaway was getting anxious. She continued to glare at Luo Wei.
“Didn’t we agree not to cause trouble?”
“I didn’t cause any trouble, did I?” Luo Wei asked suspiciously.
“…Sigh, it’s my fault,” Hathaway sighed softly. “I should have known better than to rely on Miss Luo Wei.”
“I can’t let that comment slide,” Luo Wei said, dissatisfied. “I simply rejected a pass.”
“That wasn’t a pass…”
Hathaway looked distressed, terrified she might bring trouble to Eliana. She began rambling inside Luo Wei’s head, explaining the etiquette and rules of noble banquets she had unearthed from old records. Luo Wei’s head began to spin, and she eventually severed the connection to Hathaway.
Just as Luo Wei felt a sense of peace returning to her mind, a flat, casual knock sounded.
It wasn’t on her side; it was for the Maid Puppet, Rita.
Finally…
“Enter,” a light voice called out.
With a creak, the door was pushed open.
It was Cassandra.
Cassandra still maintained her haughty appearance, but her expression was noticeably grave. She scrutinized Luo Wei’s puppet and spoke slowly.
“I truly did not expect to meet with an organization of Evil Gods in a place like this. ‘Tea Party’… I shall remember the name. It is an honor for your kind.”
What a poser.
Within seconds of meeting, Cassandra had left a very “refined” first impression on Luo Wei.
“Rita.”
Luo Wei extended her hand. Cassandra looked slightly surprised, then reacted with a cold sneer.
“A hand-kissing rite is unsuitable for this occasion, especially between you and me.”
“…”
Luo Wei actually just wanted to shake hands. But thinking about it, the Kingdom of York didn’t really seem to have a handshake tradition.
“To be precise, you should refer to us as a God-Betraying Organization,” Luo Wei said, retracting her hand effortlessly.
“Oh?” Cassandra narrowed her eyes. “And might I ask which deity you serve?”
“The Pale Gospel, Mifa. We are the servants who attend to Him.”
Luo Wei lifted her skirt slightly, performing a flawless maid’s salute.
Mifa…
At the mention of that name, Cassandra was briefly stunned. She quickly realized why the Crimson Troupe had been so keen on facilitating this connection.
Though teased by Hathaway and Eliana as a “poor student,” Cassandra was actually quite knowledgeable. Almost every student who attended the Academy of Truth possessed vast knowledge of the Transcendental realm.
The “God-Betrayer” Mifa, the Pale Gospel, was a deity who could not be ignored in any ritual involving life—He was the representative of death itself. He was once the guardian deity of the Chryse Empire, much like Yster, the God of Storms, was the guardian of York.
His followers should have vanished centuries ago with the collapse of the Chryse Empire, yet here was a new organization of faith appearing out of thin air.
Doubts remained, of course, but Cassandra finally found herself intrigued.
“Do you also wish to become the state religion of York?” she asked mockingly.
“Also”?
Luo Wei paused, quickly understanding. That must be the Crimson Troupe’s ambition.
“Not everyone is worthy of serving our Lord,” Luo Wei shook her head. “We have other objectives.”
“How fascinating. This is the first time I’ve heard an ‘evil’ organization say they aren’t looking to expand,” Cassandra said, her lips curling upward. “To be honest, I don’t care about your goals. I only care about what you can do to help me seize the throne.”
Luo Wei hesitated for a moment before saying calmly, “Whatever the Crimson Troupe can do, we can do as well.”
Hearing this, Cassandra stared at “Rita” for several heartbeats. Then, she covered her mouth and laughed softly.
“This is getting more interesting by the second… but I like it. The Crimson Troupe’s hands are indeed a bit too filthy; I prefer something cleaner.
“Do you wish to replace them? I don’t mind, but I need to see your sincerity.”
“How shall I demonstrate our sincerity?” Luo Wei’s expression remained unreadable. “And how shall I see Yours, Princess?”
“Simple. Do something for me.” Cassandra pulled out a photograph and handed it to Luo Wei. “I want you to kill this person during the Queen’s funeral. This was originally a task for the Crimson Troupe, but their recent performance has made me doubt their ability to finish it.”
Another assassination?
Luo Wei’s eyelid twitched.
The political struggles of York were certainly straightforward: just constant killing. She suspected the Queen wasn’t even killed by the “Remnant Tower”—it was probably just these throne-crazed princesses.
Despite her internal griping, Luo Wei’s face remained serious and meticulous. She took the photo, but then her brows furrowed.
“Kill… her?”
In the photograph was a skeletal young girl. She looked as though she had been ravaged by hunger for months; her cheeks were hollowed out, nothing but skin and bones. She was hunched over piteously, her body mostly covered by a tattered black robe. Only her bloodshot eyes were prominent—sharp like a hidden blade, yet fierce like a cornered, maddened beast.
No matter how one looked at her, she didn’t seem like a political rival for a princess.
Could she be some royal illegitimate daughter lost in the wild?
No, that made no sense. Cassandra herself was of the most orthodox lineage; her father was the former Queen’s biological brother. No princess could claim a bloodline more legitimate than hers.
“It seems like a very simple task.”
Luo Wei didn’t question it or ask why; she spoke with nonchalance.
“Simple?” Cassandra chuckled. “I hope you still think so when you actually face her.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be the only ones acting; the Crimson Troupe and the Royal Knights will be there as well… but I hope you can kill her before the Royal Knights do.”
The Royal Knights were an elite force that only the Queen could mobilize. There were only eighteen of them, equipped with the finest firearms and most durable armor, inscribed with Holy Incantations blessed by the High Priest of the Church of Storms himself.
Every knight was at least a Sequence 7 Transcendental or higher. Their combined combat formation could shake the most powerful beings.
“Why such a grand display just to kill a child?” Luo Wei frowned, continuing to study the photo for clues.
Unfortunately, aside from the girl looking dangerous, there was no other information. “What crime did she commit?” Luo Wei finally couldn’t help but ask.
“Murder,” Cassandra said flatly. “During the funeral, she will use the most brutal methods to dismember a poor little girl as a sacrifice to her master.”
“…”
This sounds like nothing but a massive conspiracy…
Luo Wei really wanted to ask which little girl was going to be killed, but then, as her fingers brushed against the photo, a second, smaller one slid out and fell onto the table.
At the same time, Cassandra watched her intently.
It wasn’t a photograph, but a small, exquisitely detailed oil painting.
It depicted a young girl. Her face was almost too perfect, possessing a strange, uncanny quality. Her fair skin seemed to have a faint grey filter over it, yet she smiled brightly, like a blossoming flower.
This was…
“…Me?”
![Welcome to the World of the Strong [Unlimited Flow]](https://i1.wp.com/dobytranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/08/21240336806.png?resize=151,215 "Welcome to the World of the Strong [Unlimited Flow]")
