Chapter 781: A Moment Of Peace

The moment she heard Cassius’s voice, Joy’s expression changed.

The soft, vulnerable woman who had been cooing at animals moments ago vanished like mist in the morning sun.

In her place stood the Saintess of Judgment once more. Cold. Composed. Unreadable.

She stared at him for a long while. The man standing so smugly in front of her, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips.

Then she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her eyes like she had a massive headache.

When she pulled her fingers down, her gaze was flat.

"...How much did you hear?"

Her voice was flat. Toneless. The voice of someone who already knew the answer and was just going through the motions.

Cassius didn’t answer immediately. He put on a thoughtful expression, rubbing his chin like a professor considering a complex philosophical question.

"How much did I hear?" He tilted his head. "Well, let’s see. Let me think. Let me think."

He dragged it out. Deliberately. Enjoying every second.

Joy’s eye twitched.

"Well." Cassius finally said, snapping his fingers. "I think I heard enough to hear you say—"

He clasped his hands together in an exaggerated gesture, mimicking a girlish voice that was absolutely nothing like Joy’s.

"Oh, please, darling! Come over here! Let me feed you!"

"Please, oh please, let me pet you once!"

"I’m such a cold, sad executioner, but only a donkey like you can warm my cold, dead heart!"

He dropped the act and looked at her with a straight face.

"...I saw just that, I guess."

Joy’s cheeks flushed.

It was faint, but it was there. A soft pink that crept across her pale skin like dawn breaking over snow.

She glared at him with such intensity that a lesser man would have burst into flames.

She had been so careful. So sure. Everyone had gone to the festival. The mansion was empty. No sisters, no wives, no maids, no Cassius. She had checked and double-checked and triple-checked.

And yet, here he was. The last person on earth she wanted to see. Witnessing her at her most vulnerable. Her most embarrassing. Her most human.

She gritted her teeth.

"If you dare spread what you just saw—"

Cassius stepped forward. Close. Too close.

"What are you going to do, Joy?" He poked her shoulder. "Are you going to beat me up? Are you going to take that shiny little axe of yours and swing it over my head?"

He poked her again.

"Come on. Tell me. What could you possibly do to me right now?"

Joy looked up at him.

And then, surprisingly, she smirked.

It was cold. Calculating. The smirk of someone who had just thought of something deliciously evil.

"How about..." She said slowly. "I don’t do that at all?"

Cassius raised an eyebrow.

"Retaliating with violence is useless against you. We’ve established that." She took a step closer, her eyes glittering. "No, someone like you deserves something much more...different."

She let out a cold chuckle.

"For example..." She leaned in "...I could inform all the sisters back in the capital to start spreading rumors about you."

Cassius’s eyes narrowed. "What kind of rumors? You mean like—"

"The usual kind? About how depraved you are? About how you steal women from across the continent?"

She shook her head. "No, no. That won’t work. There are already so many rumors like that. They’re useless."

She stepped closer to him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her skin. She looked up at him with a challenging gaze.

"I’ll tell them to spread rumors that you..."

She pointed at him, then slowly dragged her finger down until it was aimed at his crotch.

"...have an extremely small penis."

Cassius’s face went pale.

"Y-You wouldn’t..."

"I most definitely would." Her smile was sharp. "As long as I say the word, my entire network back in the capital will spread the rumor everywhere."

"Streets. Taverns. Tea houses. The royal court itself." She chuckled. "Everyone will know that the most infamous young master on the continent is actually packing a peanut. A peewee. A sad, pathetic little—"

"Okay, okay!" Cassius held up his hands. "I get it!"

Joy’s smirk turned triumphant.

"All those previous rumors about you—the depravity, the womanizing, the devilish charm—they’ll be completely overthrown. Replaced by how horribly mediocre you are down there."

She tilted her head. "How does that sound, Young Master?"

Cassius stared in vexation, then, unexpectedly, he grinned.

"But that’s an obvious lie."

He said before adding in a knowing tone,

"...And you know the truth."

Joy’s ears turned pink.

She did know the truth. She knew it very well. Intimately, even.

The memory of that night—of him, of his size, of the way he’d filled her was seared into her brain.

But she pressed on.

"Who the hell cares about the truth?" She shrugged. "The people here might consider you a saint, but all over the continent, they call you the incarnation of the devil. They want you hanged. Put on trial. Burned at the stake."

She smiled.

"Is the real truth really that important right now? Will it really matter?"

Cassius opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"You...You...You—"

He was genuinely caught off guard.

Rumors about his character? His morals? His intentions?

Those were nothing. Water off a duck’s back. He’d been called worse by better people.

But rumors about his size?

That was different!

That would hurt!

Joy watched him squirm, and something bloomed in her chest.

It was overwhelming. Exhilarating. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this way.

Her mind had been a desert for so long—dry, barren, lifeless.

But seeing Cassius flustered, watching him struggle for words, turned that desert into a jungle.

She felt so overwhelmingly full of joy that it was almost scary.

But then—

The feeling vanished.

Her smile faded. Her eyes dimmed. The light in her face drained away like water through a sieve.

"...Never mind, Cassius."

Cassius blinked. "What?"

"Forget what I just said."

She turned away from him, leaning her arms on the wooden railing, staring at the Montegro with sad, hollow eyes.

"If you want to spread what you saw—go ahead. Tell everyone. Use my own methods against me."

She sighed, staring at the donkey with empty eyes.

"I don’t care anymore."

She gave a self-deprecating chuckle.

"It’s all useless anyway. Do whatever you want. I won’t stop you."

Cassius stared at her in disbelief.

This wasn’t the Joy he knew.

This wasn’t the woman who had sworn to bring him to justice and fought him with every ounce of her being.

This woman looked...broken.

Cassius stepped closer. He leaned on the fence beside her.

"What’s wrong, Joy?"

She didn’t answer.

"This isn’t like you. You’re not the type to give in so easily."

He tilted his head, trying to catch her eye.

"You’re the type who’d come at me with blades and axes and hammers, no matter what. So what’s wrong? Why do you look so defeated?"

Joy let out a hollow laugh.

"Defeated?" She considered the word. "Yeah. That’s probably the best way to describe me right now."

She looked at Cassius with a mocking smile.

"I’ve been defeated by you. Over and over."

She looked back at the donkey.

"My ambition. My goals. My mission. My dignity."

Her voice dropped.

"...Even my virginity."

Cassius shifted guiltily.

"You took everything from me. You defeated me in every single aspect. There’s nothing left."

She shook her head.

"So even playing games with you is useless. Even if I get a minor victory..." She waved her hand dismissively "...overall, you’ve already stepped all over me."

She laughed again. It was bitter.

"What I’m doing right now is more like a clown playing tricks." She gestured vaguely. "I should probably just hold onto the last bit of dignity I have left instead of doing such petty nonsense."

Cassius was quiet for a moment.

He hadn’t expected this. He had come here expecting to spar with her—verbally, emotionally, maybe even physically.

He had expected fire and fury and that familiar spark of competition.

Instead, he found ashes.

"Wow." He said finally. "I really didn’t expect that."

He thought about it.

She was like a tiger—ferocious, deadly, always ready to pounce.

But when a tiger realizes it can’t bite through its opponent’s skin, when it understands that no amount of clawing will ever draw blood...

...it gives up. It becomes docile.

It was almost...sad.

But then Cassius thought of something.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

He leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against hers.

Joy glanced at him but didn’t pull away. She didn’t have the energy.

"So, Joy." Cassius said in a teasing voice. "Does that mean no matter how much I taunt or tease you, you won’t do anything at all?"

He leaned in even closer. Toward her cheek.

"Even if I were to give you a little peck on the cheek right now, you wouldn’t stop me?"

He puckered his lips. Made an exaggerated kissing motion.

But just before they made contact, her hand shot up and grabbed his mouth. She squeezed, squishing his lips together until they stuck out like a fish.

She then turned her head slowly, giving him a cold, dead-eyed stare.

"Yes, I’ve fallen. But not so far that I’ll let you play with my body, Cassius."

She shoved his face away. "Don’t get any ideas."

Cassius rubbed his sore cheeks, but he was grinning.

"Oh, come on, Joy! How can you say that when we’re already lovers?"

Joy scoffed. "Lovers? Please."

"Think about it." Cassius counted on his fingers. "The way I played with your body. The way you screamed my name."

Joy’s face flushed slightly.

"We’re definitely lovers." Cassius nodded sagely.

Then his expression shifted. He tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Actually—" a devilish smile spread across his face "—we’re not even lovers. We’re have more of a...father-daughter relationship."

He leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"You did call me ’daddy,’ after all. And not just once."

Joy shivered.

"Over and over." Cassius continued, his voice low. "You called me that again and again. You told me how much you wanted your father to do things to you."

Joy’s face was burning now. Her whole body felt hot.

"I was honestly so happy to hear those words." Cassius said, his tone nostalgic. "I genuinely felt like your father in that moment."

He leaned back, looking at her with mock affection.

"Isn’t that right, my dear daughter?"

Joy’s mind was a storm.

No matter how hard she tried to suppress those memories, they wouldn’t stay buried.

They kept surfacing, again and again, drowning her in shame and heat and something else—something she refused to name.

She remembered crying out his name. Calling him ’daddy.’ Begging him to praise her. Begging him to take her.

And he had gone along with it.

He had held her. Comforted her. Praised her. Treated her like his little girl.

And she had loved every second of it?

She tried to glare at him. Tried to say something cutting, something that would wipe that smug smile off his face.

But nothing came out.

Looking at him, she felt a warmth bloom in her chest.

A warmth she couldn’t explain. A warmth that terrified her.

It was as if their passionate night had planted a seed inside her, and now that seed was growing roots.

Spreading through her veins. Changing her from the inside out.

She couldn’t say anything.

She couldn’t fight back.

So, she just huffed—a sharp, annoyed exhale and turned away, trying to walk off.

But Cassius’s hand immediately shot out and grabbed hers.

"Wait, Joy. Don’t run off."

She tugged. "Let go!"

"I’m just joking. You don’t have to take it seriously." His voice was softer now, almost pleading.

She tugged again, but his grip held.

"This is the first time we’ve actually talked without you trying to kill me." He stepped closer. "I don’t want it to end like this. I’m sorry..."

"...So, please don’t go."

She turned her head to refuse. She was going to tell him she didn’t want to see his irritating face, that she’d rather be alone, that he should just leave her be.

But when she looked at him, she saw his eyes.

They were pleading.

Genuinely, honestly pleading.

He looked sorry. He looked desperate. He looked like a man who was afraid of being left alone.

Normally, Joy would have scoffed. Given him a little kick for good measure. Walked away without a second glance.

But right now, she didn’t know why—something in his expression made her pause.

He looked desperate. Pathetic, almost.

And for some reason, that made her want to stay.

"Fine." She said at last, her voice flat but no longer hostile. "But if you say any more nonsense like that, you won’t find me standing near you or talking to you anytime soon."

Cassius’s face lit up with relief.

"Of course! Of course!"

Joy turned back to the fence. She leaned against it, giving the donkey a long, tired look.

Cassius leaned beside her.

They stood there in silence, shoulder to shoulder, watching the stupid, hairless donkey chew its grass.

And just like that, a historic moment was created.

The Saintess of Judgment—the embodiment of justice, the woman who had brought down countless criminals, the terror of the underworld—was standing next to the man they called the devil.

And neither of them was trying to kill the other.

Cassius wanted to say so many things.

He wanted to ask her questions, tease her more, push her buttons.

He wanted to understand what was going on inside her head.

But he knew this was a rare moment.

A vulnerable moment. Joy was letting him in, just a crack, and if he pushed too hard, that door would slam shut forever.

So he stayed quiet.

Neither of them moved.

The sun continued its lazy descent, painting the sky in shades of gold and orange.

The distant sounds of the festival drifted through the air—laughter, music, the faint pop of fireworks.

And two enemies stood side by side, watching a donkey eat grass.