Vivian's pupils contracted sharply, panic flooding her delicate face.
Sorry, everyone.
I'm still too weak.
A sense of helplessness gripped her. The enemies before her were far more overwhelming than the time she had been nailed to the cross, making her feel utterly powerless.
She clenched her staff tightly, regaining her composure.
I have to save myself—for the Church, for those who sacrificed themselves for me, and for Lord Helm.
Intermediate Holy Light Technique: Purifying Light
In an instant, she ignited all the Holy Light elements within her.
Radiant holy energy swirled around her, making her seem like a small sun, dispelling the darkness surrounding her.
Unfortunately, Vivian was still far too weak.
Her current power level barely reached the peak of Tier Four. Against a Sixth-Tier powerhouse before her, all her attacks were like striking stone with eggs.
Bardel waved casually. The dense aura of corruption transformed into an invisible hand, lifting Vivian off the ground effortlessly.
"Relax, little Angel. I won't let you die so easily. After all, I'm still waiting for you to join the embrace of corruption."
"Heh. Who allowed you to touch my Angel, you trash?"
"Who?"
Bardel turned toward the voice, eyes wide with both shock and rage. He hadn't sensed anyone approaching.
The voice came from nearby, clearly belonging to a formidable opponent.
Just as he was about to finish Vivian off, an unexpected powerhouse appeared — how could he not feel both furious and alarmed?
"Step out, filth of the Holy Tribunal, or I'll crush your little Angel right now."
"You can try."
The female voice rang out again. Instantly, all surrounding vines and tentacles withered rapidly.
Soon, they crumbled into dry, lifeless husks, collapsing to the ground with clouds of dust.
Through the haze, a graceful figure emerged. Every step she took seemed to slow the air itself around her.
"I don't care whether she lives or dies. For me, it's better if she lives, but her death is acceptable. I only need the body."
The smoke dispersed, finally revealing her full appearance.
Under the moonlight, her long silver hair shimmered faintly, giving her the aura of a moonlit elf.
"I am Morrigan, one of the Four Leaders of the Underworld Witches. I am here for one thing: to take the Angel's body."
"Under the command of the Underworld Witches?"
Bardel's bulging eyes fixed on Morrigan, as if trying to confirm the truth of her words.
When he noticed the dense aura of death surrounding her, almost liquid in appearance, he finally realized the truth.
"Honorable Morrigan, since we all belong to the Supreme Faction, there's no need to create conflict here.
We represent the Supreme Church. I'm sure you've heard that the Church has fully returned to the Supreme Faction. We speak for its will."
"And?"
"I mean, if you and your Underworld Witch allies join us, the Supreme Church, there's no issue providing you shelter or the bodies of strong warriors.
Even… negotiating over this little Angel here is possible…"
Before he could finish, a cold female voice interrupted.
High-Level Death Magic: Death Finger…
A ghostly green light shot out, instantly striking Bardel's chest. The impact flung him backward.
The green light didn't dissipate; it split into dozens of bolts, surging toward the surrounding demons.
Only then did Morrigan finish speaking.
…Chain Lightning
This was a new spell created by Morrigan, derived from Death Finger with slight modifications.
The spell's difficulty rivaled that of supreme-level magic. Only a witch like her, possessing a golden skill trait, could cast it effortlessly.
In an instant, lightning struck every demon in the vicinity. They had no chance to resist and were annihilated by the death magic, turning into lifeless corpses.
Bardel, who had initially been flung away, struggled to rise. A piece of black armor on his chest had shattered.
"Heh, I didn't expect you to survive."
Morrigan walked gracefully forward, her small black leather shoes crunching against the dried branches.
She positioned herself slightly ahead of Bardel, subtly shielding Vivian behind her.
This time, she did not attack immediately, instead gazing down at Bardel.
Her exquisite face was expressionless.
"Why?" Bardel rasped, his voice hoarse and low, devoid of his usual arrogance.
He waited a moment, receiving no reply.
"We are both of the Supreme Faction. Do you really want a fight to the death, letting those cursed Holy Tribunal dogs benefit?"
Bardel shouted, desperation and disbelief mixing in his voice.
He had just broken free from worldly constraints and joined the Demon Army, becoming a subject of the Fallen Lord — something that should have brought joy.
He successfully intercepted the Angel and was about to gain the Fallen Lord's blessing.
Yet, encountering a Supreme Faction ally, someone who should have been a fellow celebrant, he was attacked instead.
Two things that should have been reasons for joy had instead created this unprecedented, bewildering situation.
Why had no one told him that the supposedly united Supreme Faction would strike without warning?
"You, this weakling, think you can fight me to the death?
Is it your vial of corrupted blood? Or the sacred artifact hidden at your waist?"
"What?!"
Morrigan had exposed his greatest secret.
Bardel's eyes widened, a chill of dread seizing him.
How could she know the trump cards he had hidden so clearly?
"You don't need to know."
Green light flickered across Morrigan's fingers again.
Bardel, paralyzed by fear, could only watch as the lightning approached his head…
And then…