Hidden Goal

While Konrad's sword hanged above Marduk's torso, the hologram of a thirteen years old girl with mid-long golden curls appeared beside him. Dressed in a simple white robe, that girl looked like a perfectly carved doll that would undoubtedly grow into a riveting beauty.

But right now, rancor and indignation twisted her otherwise flawless face.

"Oh? So, you're really just a brat?"

Konrad rhetorically asked while rubbing his beardless chin with his free hand.

"Since when did you know?"

The system's soul asked, her wronged look unchanged.

"I didn't, actually. I had several hypotheses which all revolved around your little family. As a matter of fact, only when your outrage began did I veto the possibility of you being the Infernal Founder.

After all, though I do not know him, such a tyrannical man would not lose his demeanor for his corpse. Perhaps he would for his woman's and children's, but certainly not for himself."