A Sudden Whim

“You...” Meng Lan felt as if her throat were being constricted by an invisible hand. Whether it was the other woman’s magic or her own biological instinctual fear of death, her ability to speak seemed momentarily paralyzed.

“You are the bishop from Limbo, aren’t you? Killing you in your own cathedral would have been too much trouble,” Li Yue said indifferently. She made a “shh” gesture, signaling Meng Lan not to cry out. Meng Lan was no fool; she knew that in this situation, screaming would accomplish nothing. The person before her was at least a magic user infinitely close to being a Calamity Warlock.

“There are several powerful Calamity Warlocks in Limbo. It is better to stay away from them when making a move,” Li Yue added calmly, aware that the carriage was drawing closer to the city with every passing second.

Li Yue paused to reflect, recalling a conversation she once had with Leonardo, the principal of the Western Continent academy. She wondered if he had returned to the Royal Court by now.

He had told her that the few Calamity-class mages in the Imperial Academy were almost entirely without political stance. They were loyal only to the King, and religious beliefs meant little to them. Only a handful had actually chosen a side. Their ascension to the Calamity rank was not dependent on the God's remains of “Specter” or “Death.” Under a single deity, at most two Calamity-class mages could emerge—and that was only the case for those at the primary god tier.

Leonardo had explained to Li Yue that as long as national security was not threatened, the transition of power was considered a normal occurrence. The current King had ascended the throne through a coup, and the scholars of the academy had not interfered much at the time. Because the King appeared more capable, he had swiftly and decisively dealt with the incompetent heir who was next in the line of succession.

Had the situation reached a stalemate with the potential to split the country, those scholars might have stepped in. Most of them studied forbidden magic and, naturally, were not accepted by Karl Romon Academy.

In the last war, a small portion of the battlefields had been dedicated to purging magic users who delved too deeply into forbidden magic. A few survivors now resided within the Royal Court, though the law prevented them from acting as freely as they once had.

They cared little for secular affairs and simply fulfilled their respective duties.

Of course, there were also several native Calamity Warlocks of the Royal Court. They held a special affection for this nation soaked in blood, a sentiment that forced their loyalty to remain with the state, even if they maintained good relations with Karl Romon.

Incidentally, among all the forbidden magic, the spell Li Yue was currently using—transforming living humans into blood demons—was undoubtedly the bloodiest, most evil, and most terrifying. It was the taboo among taboos.

Li Yue snapped back to the present. She looked at the box on Meng Lan’s chest, which was vibrating restlessly. A strange spark of interest flickered within her. She sensed no signs of life inside, yet the small object gave her a faint sensation of the Underworld.

Perhaps the sheer number of souls had been compressed into a substance resembling liquid. In essence, these contents were now close to the water of the River of the Dead. As the god who governed the Underworld, she viewed this act as a form of desecration.

And yet, she didn't feel particularly angry. It was like someone had snuck into the pond in her backyard and scooped out a cup of water. She wasn't enraged, just somewhat... weary of it.

The torrent of souls fluctuated more violently. Although the person before her had not cast a spell, anyone in this position would struggle desperately.

“Are you afraid of death? It’s alright... death is a peaceful and quiet affair. You will lose everything, but you will also be free of all burdens.” Li Yue did not pull back; instead, she leaned closer toward Meng Lan.

“I have heard your name before. It is very similar to someone I know. Names represent many things, including my own,” Li Yue said with a faint smile. “So, I wanted to chat with you. But it seems you have no interest in talking to me.”

“Then let us finish this with an introduction.” Li Yue’s interest seemed to vanish as quickly as it had come. Her expression grew cold. She herself didn't know why she had suddenly felt the urge to speak with this woman. Ordinarily, the moment she stepped onto the carriage, Meng Lan would have become a lifeless corpse.

“I am Jormungandr. I hope that before you die, you can understand why you are dying.” Li Yue paused. “But for dull believers like you, you likely won’t figure it out. Just consider it... His will as well.”

“Witnessing Death...” Li Yue whispered. The tiny space inside the carriage instantly transformed into a vast, boundless black sea surface. Within the shadows beneath the water, a giant snake swam. Li Yue stood before Meng Lan and gripped the box on her chest.

“Now, let the farce end,” Li Yue said softly. “Whether it is ‘Specter’ or anything else... the remnants of the old days will eventually vanish into the river of time.”

“But before that, I’ll be using your appearance.” Li Yue gently touched Meng Lan’s face. Her other hand already gripped Meng Lan’s throat, her nails digging into the skin. Within this domain, Meng Lan discovered to her horror that she could not use any of her magic.

With a light swipe of Li Yue’s hand, the spraying blood—along with the blood still inside Meng Lan’s body—simultaneously transformed into blood crystals. Her body was forcibly ruptured from within, like a water skin pierced by ice. A pale blue soul floated out, chanting softly in an attempt to resonate with the soul-storing artifact on her person.

“As for your soul, return directly to the Underworld.” Li Yue waved her hand, and the gates of the Underworld swung open. The powerful soul was dragged inside by a swarm of rushing spirits and torn to shreds. Not a single trace remained. The black tide enveloped Meng Lan’s corpse and her physical form. Minutes later, the boundless space began to collapse, leaving a neatly dressed figure sitting in the carriage, leisurely watching the scenery outside the window.

She adjusted the red crown-like hat on her head and checked the details of her appearance in the mirror.

“This crown is so heavy; it’s uncomfortable on my hair,” Li Yue said softly. Her voice changed accordingly, shifting into the elegant, refined tone of the bishop.

“I hope the royal crown will be lighter.”