The silence that settled was long and heavy.
Thump… Thump… Thump…
He wondered when the inevitable blow would come.
"I see," Luxuria murmured, glancing at the goddesses who remained silent on their thrones. "Sisters, what are your thoughts?"
'What does she mean?'
He couldn't hear their responses, but he saw Luxuria nodding or shaking her head occasionally.
After an agonizing stretch of time, a soft voice finally broke the stillness.
"We have lost."
Sol tilted his head, puzzled.
'Lost?'
Luxuria's smile widened before she turned her attention back to him.
"Sol Luxuria, my dear child, in our boundless love and compassion—"
"Snicker… Ira, I heard that. Ahem. As I was saying, in our infinite love and compassion, we have decided on a way for you to atone for Camelia's mistakes."
Sol set everything else aside, focusing entirely on her words.
"Three tasks. For every wish she made, you must complete one task of our choosing. The time limits and conditions for success will be determined by us. In return, Camelia will pay almost no price."
He closed his eyes and said, "For the first part, I am willing to do anything as long as it doesn't harm those I care for. But for the second… what price will she pay?"
"Hehe! A life for a life. Since you pleaded on her behalf, we will, of course, not end her life, but a life must still be paid—just in another form."
Sol felt a chill run through him. Whatever was coming, it didn't feel good. But did he even have a choice?
'Sigh… Camelia doesn't seem the type to make such mistakes. Why did she ask for so many unreasonable wishes?'
It nagged at him, like a missing piece of a puzzle.
'Well… it doesn't matter. I'll have my answers once we return.'
Looking at the still-sleeping Camelia, a soft smile curved his lips. No matter what came next, the most important thing was that she was safe—for now.
"Well, that's all for now. If you're confused, ask Camelia when she wakes. It was quite the entertaining night; I hope you can match the fun your father provided. Goodbye!"
Clap.
The sound of her applause echoed, and Sol immediately collapsed into unconsciousness.
---
That night was bound to be restless. While Sol faced the goddesses, unseen schemes and movements unfolded elsewhere.
At the center of it all were the four noble families. Few knew—and even fewer understood—the full significance of a Saint's fall.
The loss of power and blessing stirred a critical question in everyone's minds: who would be chosen as the next holy daughter?
This role had remained vacant ever since Camelia had been promoted from holy daughter to Supreme Daughter. Now, a successor had to be chosen—one loyal to their interests.
--- [A few hours later]
Chirp… Chirp…
Camelia's eyes fluttered open, her mind foggy. It took a moment to orient herself.
"My… room?"
She shook her head lightly, clearing the haze, and confirmed she was indeed in her bedroom.
Her thoughts immediately turned to the crucial event that had just occurred. Catching a glimpse of her golden hair, a radiant smile lit her face.
'He succeeded!'
Joy and excitement surged as she attempted to sit up, but…
Clang!
Chains clinked, and she realized she was completely bound—from head to toe. The method of binding was… compromising.
"Hehe~! Fascinating. Seems you have much to explain, Camelia," a voice teased.
Her face flushed as she understood immediately.
"You read my thoughts?"
Sol nodded, sighing. "Honestly, it struck me as odd. You're careful by nature, and I would never let you pay such a price."
Something about the situation had felt off, though at the time, stress had kept him from fully understanding.
"Especially the last part—Luxuria simply said they had lost. But… what did they lose? And to whom?"
Camelia, despite being restrained, listened intently.
"See, I'm furious now."
His voice remained calm, yet Camelia shivered.
"Wai—"
"No need to explain. I can guess most of what happened from the results. I'm genuinely happy you bet everything on me… but I'm still angry!"
Sol touched his chin, choosing his words carefully.
"I'm not upset about begging for your life. I would do it again, gladly. I'm not angry about being manipulated—you only acted in my best interest, and you aren't a child who must obey blindly."
He was frustrated at being made a fool, but not truly angry. Camelia had entrusted her life and soul to him—a gamble requiring immense faith in another person.
No, what made him angry was:
"Camelia… do you realize the agony I felt thinking you might die?"
That fear—the thought of losing her—made his heart ache. Anxiety, terror, helplessness—it all hit like the ground was collapsing beneath him.
"You know, it hurt… do you think your life is a joke to me?"
Shame spread across her face, chaos rippling in her mind.
"And now, as the goddess said, it's a life for a life. Our lives are linked. If I die, you die. Do you think that makes me happy? That I would trade your life for power?"
Tears streamed down her face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, nearly sobbing.
Though she couldn't read his thoughts, she felt his emotions. He was deeply frustrated, but not in exaggeration.
"What struck me while begging the goddesses wasn't the act itself, but the reality that, had they wished for your death, I could do nothing."
For Sol, failing to protect someone he cared for made him feel utterly useless. This was why he had trained so hard even before gaining mana—to become strong, to be reliable, to provide security to those he cared for.
Yet tonight reminded him of his limitations. Gods aside, he was still a newly awakened, while the women around him were already powerhouses.
Sigh.
"Well… whining changes nothing. What's done is done. But," his solemn expression shifted into a mischievous grin, "bad girls need to be punished~! I hope you're ready."
Camelia froze for a moment before remembering her precarious position—bound and barely clothed.
She recognized the ropes as pure mana.
Speechless, she couldn't decide whether to be impressed by his skill in materializing mana less than 24 hours after awakening—or by how he was using it.
Sol ignored her shock, contemplating seriously, as if deciding the fate of the world.
"Let's start with thirty hits, for now."