Chapter 24 : After All, They’re Just Expendable

“Little Milly… why are you so stubborn?”

She’d originally planned to heal Milly, to ease her suffering.

But now?

Unnecessary.

The girl had endured more than enough.

Any other person would’ve broken long ago—become a docile, obedient toy.

But Milly?

So stubborn.

Where did that defiance come from?

Yet stubbornness wasn’t a flaw.

In fact, if Milly had surrendered easily—if she’d become a mindless puppet—Stacy would’ve lost interest.

It was this resistance that made her fun.

This struggle—this fight—was what made the process worth it.

Sure, it had deviated slightly from her original goal.

But the core direction remained unchanged.

And adding a little pleasure along the way?

What harm was there in making it more enjoyable?

She lifted Milly from the throne, cradling her gently.

The girl had suffered enough today.

Push her further, and she’d snap—like an over-tightened bowstring.

Leaving the cell, she headed toward the bedroom.

But halfway there—she stopped.

From Lily’s stolen memories, one detail stood out.

It wasn’t just about finding Agnes.

No.

Once her location was confirmed—alive or dead—the Empire would send multiple elite squads to assault her.

So why send the adventurers at all?

If they knew no one would survive, why sacrifice them?

Was it to protect Agnes?

To stop Stacy from harming her?

But the Pope knew her.

He knew she never spared anyone.

Except Milly.

And that was the point.

The Empire knew these adventurers would die.

And they didn’t care.

To the powers behind the throne, these ordinary adventurers were nothing more than disposable tools.

Expendable.

One dies? Replace it.

Another appears.

The world was full of adventurers.

They were consumables—like the lowly servants who’d once lived in the castle, now long dead.

When one batch died, new ones spawned like mushrooms after rain.

Ordinary adventurers were basic expendables.

The elite squads? Just higher-grade ones.

Even the Empire’s so-called “core figures”?

Still expendable.

As for what truly ruled the Empire…

Stacy knew.

And they knew her.

They couldn’t touch her—yet.

But time was running out.

Until then, she’d placed all her hope in Milly.

An outsider.

A soul from another world.

In her—there had to be a way to end it all.

But that was a topic for later.

For now—focus on the immediate threat.

The elite squads.

She wasn’t afraid of them.

The only variable was the Pope.

If he got involved, things could get complicated.

And now, she had Milly to protect.

She could defeat the attackers—no issue.

But could she shield Milly at the same time?

Hiding her?

Possible.

But the Church excelled at finding things.

If Milly was taken…

That would be unacceptable.

So—

Why wait?

If the Empire wanted war…

She’d bring it to them.

Those restless little mice needed a warning.

And besides—

Staying cooped up in the castle limited her power.

To shape Milly into what she wanted—she needed a stronger catalyst.

And someone else would deliver it for her.

She looked down at the unconscious girl in her arms.

A slow, meaningful smile curled her lips.

A little surprise for Milly.

She already ached to see her reaction.

What would that pretty face look like when it shattered?

She licked her lips—already imagining it.

Her own smile twisted with anticipation.

She could hardly wait.

But she forced herself to calm down.

Let the show begin.

“Mmm…”

When she woke, the pain was gone.

And beneath her—something soft.

Furry.

Comfortable.

Much better than cold stone.

She opened her eyes.

Last night, she’d collapsed standing up, gripping the bars.

But now—

A plush, furry carpet cushioned her.

Nice.

The chain around her neck remained.

The cage was still there—smaller.

And the cell?

Now a bedroom.

But not her bedroom.

Not the one she remembered.

“Awake?”

Stacy’s cold voice came from the side.

Milly turned.

One meter away—a bed.

Not the massive imperial-sized one from the palace.

This was a single.

The old bed could fit four or five.

This one?

They’d be cramped sharing it.

But Milly wasn’t shocked by the room.

She was shocked by Stacy—sitting on the bed, reading an ancient tome.

She hadn’t been there last night.

And the moment Milly opened her eyes—she was there.

So it was neglect.

And because Milly hadn’t broken last night…

Would today bring new torment?

She looked down.

Most of the sigils had healed.

But new ones would come.

She couldn’t stop it.

Better to accept it.

Get it over with.

“Master… is today’s morning lesson starting?”

She braced herself.

But Stacy didn’t move.

Didn’t approach.

Just kept reading.

Then—

“Not today.”

Huh?

Was Stacy changing?

No.

This was too suspicious.

No lesson?

That sounded nice—

But this was the calm before the storm.

She was planning something worse.

But Stacy stayed on the bed, eyes locked on the book.

More interested in that than her.

Fine.

If she said no lesson—Milly wouldn’t remind her.

No pain. No punishment.

Good.

But the strange surroundings made her ask:

“Master… where are we?”

As if waiting for that question, Stacy closed the book and walked to the window.

With a flourish, she pulled open the curtains.

Blinding sunlight flooded the room.

Milly shielded her eyes—then blinked.

Her pupils shrank.

Outside—a bustling street.

Merchants shouting. Carriage bells ringing. The noise of a living city.

This… this wasn’t the wasteland beyond the castle.

Where the hell did she bring me?!

Before Milly could process it—

Stacy pointed out the window, smiling warmly.

“Little Milly… we’re in Starlight City now.”