Isolde looked down at her palm, where the “Unicorn’s Last Wish” was burning her nerves through her flesh.
Anyone capable of becoming a dungeon Guardian naturally possessed a sharp mind, so she wasn't surprised that the Silver-Robed Inquisitor had seen right through her disguise.
A low chuckle escaped Isolde's throat. Drawing upon the thread of unicorn holiness within her to push back against the domain's crushing pressure, she slowly stood up straight.
She raised her fingertips and gently brushed them across the side of her face.
The face belonging to “Yu Lingye” began to peel away.
Her short hair cascaded downward like spilling ink, pooling over her shoulders once more as her pale, exquisite features were revealed bit by bit.
The feigned weakness and panic were completely wiped from her face, leaving only a frigid coldness and an irrepressible touch of mockery.
Meng Yinyin’s basic mage mark vanished. In its place, dark red Soul Threads crept out from her left wrist like bloodthirsty centipedes.
【Witch's Mask deactivated.】
【Current Identity: Soul-Weaving Witch, Isolde.】
High in the air, the Silver-Robed Inquisitor's gaze finally locked onto her.
When he saw the mark of the Soul-Weaving Witch on her wrist, his otherwise serene expression finally flickered with a trace of emotion.
“An evil witch... actually accepted the Mooncrown Unicorns' last wishes and became their proxy?”
He tightened his grip on his bone staff, his voice carrying a hint of anger as if he had been deeply insulted.
“A filthy witch like you dares to touch the Holy Radiance?”
“Filthy?”
Isolde raised her hand, the unicorn's last wish burning intensely hot in her palm.
A faint blue shimmer, seemingly alive, leaked through the gaps between her fingers, weaving a sorrowful, lamenting aura into the air.
“You grind their bones to make your staffs, forge locks with their horn cores, and even use the grease scraped from their carcasses to light your eternal holy lanterns.”
“And now, standing on their piled-up bones, you point your finger at me and call me filthy? Silver Robe, do you have any idea how utterly, transparently hideous you look right now?”
The Silver-Robed Inquisitor's expression remained perfectly placid, but his eyes turned ice-cold, like a high-and-mighty god looking down at a reckless ant.
“Holy beasts are messengers of the light. Their power was always meant to protect the people of this world. If sacrificing them can bring peace to the entire continent, then that is a mercy sanctioned by the gods.”
He paused, tapping his staff heavily against the air to send out a ripple of golden energy. His tone brooked no argument.
“Yet now, they harbor nothing but resentment and spread curses. Since they chose to rebel against order, it proves they are inherently evil. And since they have become a threat, the Holy Court, protected by the divine radiance, is duty-bound to purge and suppress them completely!”
This actually made Isolde laugh—a sound filled with utter absurdity and biting sarcasm.
“What a flawless piece of mad-dog logic.”
Isolde took a step forward, her boot trampling the patterns woven of holy light as her Soul Threads slithered across the floor like snakes.
“You slaughter them, smelt them down, and drive them to the brink of extinction. Then, when they finally snap, abandon the light, and plunge into the abyss, you point at their darkness and use it to justify your actions.”
“Stop flattering yourselves, Silver Robe. You call this justice? You're nothing but butchers who carve open a wound, then use the flowing blood to prove how dirty your victim is!”
A flicker of angry frost finally surfaced in the Silver-Robed Inquisitor's eyes.
“Witch, you understand nothing of order! Without the Holy Court, this continent would have been swallowed whole by the undead and the darkness long ago! The weak need rules, and they need someone to make those difficult choices for them! The foundation of the Holy Radiance has always been mercy!”
Isolde sneered, the mockery at the corner of her lips completely uncontainable.
“You decide who gets killed, others bear the suffering, and in the end, the Holy Court takes all the credit. You put the unicorns on a pedestal, but it was never out of respect. It was only because they were useful enough to satisfy your hypocritical benevolence.”
Thoroughly enraged, the Silver-Robed Inquisitor began to radiate a dangerous, glowing aura.
“They were born to bear the Holy Radiance, so they should sacrifice themselves for the people! Now that they have become a threat, the Holy Court is simply eliminating the calamity!”
Hearing this, Isolde suddenly snapped her gaze up, all warmth vanishing from her eyes.
“Then listen to me closely. It wasn't the unicorns' hatred that created this darkness—it was your butcher knives that created the hatred in the first place!”
“It was your slaughter that drove them to become a curse!”
Her fingers suddenly clenched, gathering power in her dark red Soul Threads.
“Whoever sowed the seeds of this sin will burn in the final flames of their wrath! That is what you call karma! That is what is right!”
The Silver-Robed Inquisitor finally tore away his gentle facade. Intricate holy runes blanketed the Quiet Bone Prayer Room layer by layer, looking like a divine punishment descending upon the world.
“Obstinate fool!”
Facing this near-apocalyptic buildup of magic, Isolde showed no fear. Taking advantage of the fact that he was still "channeling his spell," she whipped her hand out, sending a flurry of Soul Threads into the air.
However, the moment her threads collided with his domain of holy light, they emitted a sharp, sizzling noise, and several of them were instantly incinerated.
A searing backlash of pain traveled back to her, causing fine cracks of blood to open across the back of her hand.
The Silver-Robed Inquisitor raised his staff.
“Holy Judgment: Spear of Heaven!”
Above the prayer room, three spears of holy light tore through the void, their tips locking onto Isolde simultaneously.
Without the home-field advantage of the castle, Isolde's physical defense was as thin as paper against such a lethal move.
If she couldn't dodge, she would die!
In this moment with no retreat, her survival instincts from her past life pushed her mental state to its absolute limit.
She almost unconsciously flung out her 【Soul-Binding Thread】, wrapping it around a thick bone pillar at the far end of the prayer room.
With a violent tug of her fingers, the pulling force of the thread yanked her entire body to the side.
At almost the exact same instant, the first spear of holy light grazed her shoulder and slammed into the floor tiles with a deafening crash.
Boom—!
Violent holy light exploded outward. Although Isolde had avoided being directly impaled by the spear, she was violently thrown back by the terrifying shockwave of the blast.
“Ugh...!”
In midair, a pained groan escaped her lips.
The exploding Holy Radiance was like a searing brand, mercilessly burning her flesh. Half of her shoulder was scorched raw and dripping with blood.
【HP decreased: 10%】
Isolde rolled as she hit the ground, pulled out a recovery potion, bit off the stopper, and swallowed the liquid along with her own blood.
However, the Silver-Robed Inquisitor's assault was far from over. The other two spears curved slightly in midair, locking onto her landing spot once more.
Ignoring the unhealed burns on her shoulder, she barely managed to dodge again using her Soul Threads while simultaneously activating the skill 【Mark Weakness】.
A gray scouting dot darted wildly through the turbulent holy light, finally settling on the unicorn horn core at the tip of his staff, which was continuously supplying him with holy power.
【Weakness locked】
The suppressed rage in Isolde's chest flared up into a blazing fire.
Since her current stats made a direct assault on the Silver-Robed Inquisitor impossible, she absolutely could not let him dictate the pace of the battle.
If a direct attack wouldn't work, then she would flip the table!
This was the Holy Court's home turf, but it was also a prison for the vengeful spirits they had slaughtered!
Activating her self-created skill, her Soul Threads condensed frantically in her palm. Using the transformative power of 【Mastering Truth】, the threads in her hand morphed into a silver-glowing longsword.
“You use their bones as weapons—how do you have the face to call yourself the light?!”
Wrapping the soles of her boots in a silver-blue afterglow, Isolde shattered the holy runes beneath her feet and closed the distance.
The Silver-Robed Inquisitor swung his staff to block. With a deafening clang, the violent holy light jarred Isolde's grip so hard the skin between her thumb and forefinger split open, nearly sending her Soul Thread longsword flying from her hand.
“Witch, you only see the immediate pain, but you fail to see how many innocent lives their sacrifices have saved!”
“Sacrifice?!” Isolde was forced back five or six steps, a striking trail of blood seeping from the corner of her lips.
She casually wiped away the blood, her eyes igniting with a wild, untamed madness:
“Sacrifice is a choice! When you drag them to the altar, that's called slaughter!”
Rate on N.U.
