A man raised his shield and screamed her name. She felt the moment his grip failed. A woman discarded her sword and prayed so hard her voice vanished into a rasp, but she was shot through the head nonetheless.

Lilyanna bowed forward, pressing her forehead to her clasped hands.

"I am getting soft…" she murmured. The words trembled as they left her.

Her gaze lifted again, unwilling to remain ignorant, drawn back to the streets of Iskaris.

The figure in black still hovered there, calm and methodical. Water bullets formed once more at his back, answering his call, then were launched with such brutal speeds that most had no hopes of even noticing the change, let alone reacting in time.

Lilyanna also felt his emotional state. There was not even a shred of an emotional rampage. No frenzy, no rage. Just motion, measured, and final.

Her chest tightened.

"I am sorry…" she whispered as the voices faded one by one.

It had been her hand that guided him to this continent. It was her choice that placed him on this sealed continent instead of another.

She had weighed risks and probabilities, and decided that this was the best destination for a level 1 primordial who had no concept of how a magical world worked, had zero backing or guidance from other primordials.

"I thought…" Her voice wavered. "I thought he would grow much slower. He should've grown much slower!"

Tears slipped free and traced her cheeks as the prayers continued to break apart in her mind, each one ending the same way.

But then, her grief sharpened and transformed.

Her gaze snapped away from the mortal world and fixed itself on the vast universe itself, directionless yet perfectly aimed at one thing.

The Soul Records.

The Administrator.

"Primordial Villain."

Her voice came out as a low growl, and sharpened with each consequent word.

"Primordial Subjugator. Harbinger of Ruins. Harbinger of Aeons. Soul Necromancy. Soul Realm. Primordial Breeding Physique. Geim daughter."

Her hands clenched.

"Dimensional traversal to new worlds. God-slaying challenges."

The last line burned brighter than the rest as she shouted,

"ALL THAT BEFORE LEVEL FIFTY?!"

The air around her throne warped.

Lilyanna rose to her feet so suddenly that light rippled outward with the floor beneath her feet fracturing due to spiderweb cracks of divine force forming.

Her fists rolled into tight balls at her sides.

"What the heck is wrong with you?!" she shouted at the records themselves. "Are you insane?!"

No response came, only the vast emptiness of the universe.

"He is not supposed to have this, let alone at this level!"

Her shoulders lifted and fell once.

"I made no mistake with my decision. It was the correct one. But you twisted this boy until he became something I could never predict!"

Her gaze flicked back toward the mortal plane, where water still gathered behind a black-armored figure, carrying out the mass murdering of his birth race with the calm of sipping tea in a serene garden.

A sudden pulse of thought slammed into her mind. No sound accompanied it, yet the words appeared, hovering like ethereal glyphs that her mind could read without hearing.

[The Soul Records does not twist.]

Lilyanna's breath hitched. She hadn't expected a reply, for this entity never conversed. And yet, this was a response. Not a human response, not even a godly one. This was the voice of the universe itself, dispassionate, cold, and impossibly vast.

It had seen everything she did, it seemed, observing the battle. Or perhaps it simply observed everything at once. She did not know.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She pressed her hands together again, biting her lip.

"I… I apologize," she murmured, voice trembling as it left her lips. "I did not mean to call your judgment into question… But this… this is just too much. It's far too unfair."

No reply came this time. As expected, the Soul Records was not intent on holding a conversation. It never was.

In fact, the short response she got was already an extreme rarity, a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence - for gods with an infinite lifespan.

She grimaced as she understood the creature's thoughts perfectly.

In this plane of existence, fairness was meaningless. At least, it meant nothing to its administrator. Every choice, every gift, every tool, simply existed. Whether mortals, gods, or primordials were ready or not was irrelevant.

The weight of the knowledge pressed against her chest. She could feel the prayers of the dying still echoing through her mind, each one a thread of raw, desperate hope. And yet they all ended the same way: dead and consumed.

Her fingers tightened into fists.

She understood.

The Soul Records did not twist Quinlan. It wasn't even responsible for his arrival in Thalorind.

It had merely offered, as it did to all beings under its domain. And, somehow, Quinlan had managed to take everything it had given, gobbling it all up like a glutton and turning everything to his advantage.

Now, all she could do was watch the results of this anomaly.

And prepare a very strong scolding while at it, deciding to give him an earful once he arrived for their talk.

"Hmph!"

She scoffed strongly as her hands moved, plucking a notebook that glowed with an ethereal shine.

It hovered lightly in front of her, even as she waved her fingers over it, flipping the pages.

The cover was woven from threads of starlight, soft and delicate, dotted with tiny constellations that twinkled whenever her frustration flared.

A silver clasp, shaped like a crescent moon, held it closed, and small charms dangled from the spine - tiny stars, moons, and even miniature sunbursts that jingled when the notebook moved.

It was a rather girly book for a being who ruled over the lives of billions.

She tapped the first empty page with a finger. Then, with a sharp inhale, she began writing with her mere thoughts, dotting them onto the celestial paper.

"Complaint #1: Did not help the merchant family upon his arrival, watching the goblins kill the men and take the innocent women."

"Complaint #2: He looted the corpses and the carriage with utmost calm. Then, his first thought upon entering the city of Aldoria was to get himself a slave!!"

…

Pages turned on their own, fluttering like celestial butterflies, as she continued to scrawl down her grievances. She occasionally paused, adjusting the tiny star charms that dangled from the notebook's spine, clicking them together in a rhythmic pattern as if the sound could lend weight to her frustration.

She worked fast.

"Complaint #12831: Too smug. Too annoying. He dares openly declare before my denizens that he's overruling my authority before overruling my authority?!?!"

A couple thousand more followed, after which…

"Hmph!!!" Lilyanna scoffed again and leaned back in her throne while tapping the glowing notebook with a finger. The diary pulsed softly, as if it approved of her diligence.

A small pout crossed her face.

Her fingers drummed lightly against the cover, and she whispered to herself, almost gleefully, "Oh, you poor boy~ You have no idea what's coming for you…"

The notebook flickered in response with the stars twinkling as if echoing her determination.

Quinlan had multiple mothers who loved to pamper him, but now, he was going to be introduced to the wrath of the strictest Goddess ever!!

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