Six of Cups tilted his head subconsciously, his tone filled with genuine confusion.
“Old Six? What does that mean?”
Isolde didn't bat an eye, her expression radiating noble sincerity.
“Where I come from, that's the highest form of praise for an assassin. It commends you for being stealthy, decisive, and exceptionally skilled at delivering a fatal blow from an unexpected blind spot.”
“I see...”
Perhaps because the “high praise” and “professionalism” wrapped in her explanation sounded so serious, he actually seemed to accept it after some thought.
Watching him nod and reflect so solemnly, Isolde had to pinch herself hard to keep from bursting into laughter in the middle of such a life-and-death situation.
【Mooncrown Lock recognizing...】
【Sacrifice established.】
【Sin established.】
Suddenly, a blood-red brand materialized on Six of Cups's palm without warning, abruptly cutting off their conversation.
Whoosh—!
A terrifying, devouring suction force swept out from the deepest depths of the Mooncrown Lock, turning into countless pale chains that tightly bound Six of Cups's body.
Even the shadow beneath his feet, which was usually so docile, began to writhe and contort in agony.
Isolde watched the sudden change with cold eyes, not a trace of surprise on her face.
Six of Cups's shadow stretched and deformed. Clutching the soul-burning brand on his palm, the voice beneath his mask finally carried a mixture of shock and fury:
“Didn't you say... the rules would descend into chaos? You lied to me?!”
“That just proves my soul-stitching technique is excellent, doesn't it?” Isolde replied as she began to condense her Soul Threads.
Using 【Mastering Truth】 to condense a short blade at her fingertips, Isolde gripped it and ruthlessly stabbed it into Six of Cups's palm. Using mana to absorb mana, she forcibly drew the invading brand into the soul blade.
“Ugh...!”
Six of Cups groaned in pain, his wrist instinctively jerking back, only to be tightly bound by the ensuing Soul-Binding Thread, rendering him completely immobile.
“...What are you trying to do?!”
“Shut up and bear it!”
Isolde barked, using her other hand to retrieve the 【Unicorn Grease】 she had scavenged earlier in the Lamp-Lighting Room with her Soul Thread.
She threw the white grease toward the Mooncrown Lock hovering in midair, coating its surface and temporarily suppressing the suction force.
Meanwhile, the remnant soul pierced by the shadow blade was trying to squirm and escape amidst the chaos.
It had barely moved half an inch before Isolde backhanded a Soul Thread, binding it securely.
She stepped forward, grabbed the wailing remnant soul, and used it as a shield, slamming it hard into the center of the Mooncrown Lock.
Holding down the remnant soul's head, an expression of indifference and cruelty surfaced on her delicate, harmless face:
“Doesn't your Holy Court love telling people to learn forgiveness?”
She stared at the keyhole, which was emitting black smoke, and said coldly, “Then try forgiving me now.”
【Anomaly detected in judgment target.】
【Anomaly detected in sacrificial target.】
【Judgment in chaos.】
【Re-verifying rules...】
“Too late!”
Isolde didn't give it any chance to correct its mistake.
She turned and crushed her soul blade, completely stripping the brand from Six of Cups's palm before the rules could finalize their judgment.
At the same time, the disguised remnant soul she had pinned at the very front was completely devoured by the Mooncrown Lock's rampaging punishment mechanism.
Isolde abruptly let go of Six of Cups's wrist.
He stumbled back half a step, looking down at his unharmed palm. Ultimately unable to suppress the anger in his voice beneath his mask, he demanded:
“Was this part of your plan too?!”
“Special circumstances require special measures.”
Isolde casually retracted her Soul Threads and unhurriedly tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her tone breezy.
“The fact that I didn't shove you into the keyhole while I was at it already speaks volumes of my high moral character.”
Six of Cups glared at her. “Then your morals are truly wretched.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
In the final moment before the illusion shattered completely, the shrill, agonizing screams of the remnant soul being dragged into the depths of the keyhole echoed from afar, only to be instantly torn apart by the turbulent energy.
When she opened her eyes again, Isolde was standing back in the reality of the Quiet Bone Prayer Room.
The holy lanterns that had been burning continuously were now completely extinguished, the surrounding walls casting oppressive outlines in the darkness.
With a crisp cracking sound, the protective seal enveloping the Mooncrown Lock fractured, followed by the successive shattering of the two remaining seals.
Isolde's fingers twitched slightly.
Almost at the exact same moment, Six of Cups beside her also raised his head.
In the next second, Soul Threads and dark shadows erupted simultaneously, shooting straight for the Mooncrown Lock.
The holy artifact was within arm's reach.
Just one more inch.
Boom—!
A terrifying weight pressed down from above without warning.
Isolde's knees buckled, and her Soul Threads were crushed to pieces in midair.
Meanwhile, Six of Cups's shadow was pinned to the ground, its edges emitting a harsh, sizzling sound under the invisible force, as if burned by a branding iron.
Isolde immediately realized things had taken a turn for the worse.
This feeling of absolute control and oppression... was the domain pressure of a high-tier clergyman.
“Impure souls, how dare you set foot in this sacred place.”
The grand, cold voice seemed to echo from all directions at once.
Isolde raised her head with great difficulty.
Above the dome of the Quiet Bone Prayer Room, layer upon layer of massive golden magic circles unfurled, radiating a brilliant light that made her eyes sting.
A figure enveloped in Holy Light slowly descended through the empty air.
He was a tall man clad in a silver holy robe, holding a staff crafted from pure white bone, his silver hair neatly tied back.
At first glance, his features possessed the gentleness and compassion of a clergyman, but deep within his eyes lay a cold, stagnant pool of dead water.
Judging by this high-budget entrance, this man was likely the boss of the Grey Dove Monastery—the Silver-Robed Inquisitor, Silver Robe himself.
Silver Robe slightly lowered his gaze, looking down at the two below.
His gaze swept across the shattered array runes, finally settling unhurriedly on the levitating Mooncrown Lock.
This indifferent gaze, akin to a god looking down on ants, was far more chilling than outright fury.
“Impure souls, daring to steal a sacred relic,” he said, raising his staff, his voice majestic. “According to the laws of the Holy Court, you shall be judged and purified.”
Six of Cups clearly hadn't expected to alert Silver Robe.
The appearance of this powerhouse caused his mission difficulty to spike exponentially.
He glanced at the Mooncrown Lock again with a trace of reluctance.
In the next instant, the shadow beneath his feet suddenly burst apart, slipping into the surrounding stone crevices and vanishing in the blink of an eye.
Isolde: ?
Isolde blinked at the empty space nearby, then roared in her mind:
You absolute Old Six!
Now that it was time to fight the boss, you really just greased your feet and slipped away first!
You didn't even dare to leave a parting word?
While angry, Isolde quickly calmed down.
But it was just as well that he ran.
One less competitor for the Mooncrown Lock.
One less shadow to watch out for.
They weren't real allies anyway.
Silver Robe made no move to pursue the fleeing assassin; in his eyes, the man was nothing more than an insignificant gutter rat.
He slowly rotated his staff, turning his pale silver eyes toward Isolde, who remained.
His pale silver gaze swept over her exiled mage disguise before resting on her palm, his deep voice echoing throughout the room.
“Interesting.”
“A soul as complex and filthy as yours actually harbors a thread of unawakened holiness.”
Rate on N.U.
