In the royal court of Aira, deep within the palace of the Witch of Plague, a flustered fifth-tier cleric of the Church came rushing to the ornate double doors and knocked hastily.
"Lady Pestis! Something's happened!"
Inside, Pestis and Hel were both startled by the sudden shout. Hel, quick to react, immediately put on an expression as if she'd just been caught in bed, while Pestis, in contrast, remained perfectly calm and expressionless.
After glancing once at Hel — who had just recovered from the effects of the Witch's Blood — Pestis rose and walked toward the entrance.
"What is it?" she asked flatly.
"Lady Pestis," the cleric said breathlessly, "according to our informants, the Hand of Judgment has taken his squad and is heading toward the Bloodstained Plains!"
"Oh? And?"
Pestis' tone was indifferent. In her view, even if a group of Saints came charging their way, it wasn't something worth worrying about. Saints rarely fought to the death — deterrence and mutual withdrawal were far more common outcomes.
Besides, the Church had tasked her only with training a successor to the Witch of War, not defending the Aira royal court. This wasn't her country, and she saw no reason to shed blood for it.
However, the cleric's next words made her brows tighten slightly.
"Word is… the Tribunal claims to have discovered the Death Witch's location. They say she's currently in Aira's royal court."
"Are you sure?"
For the first time, Pestis showed a hint of interest. Still, it wasn't enough to make her abandon her current focus — her impending half-divine breakthrough.
"There's still the Archbishop and the Hurricane Witch nearby, isn't there?" she replied coolly.
"They're stationed closer to the border. Let them go handle it."
She had no intention of leaving her post. Not only was she stabilizing the Beast Witch, the carrier of her plague, but she was also too experienced — far too old and cunning — to be lured into fighting by mere rumors.
Without a direct command from the Witch of Desire, Pestis had no obligation to move.
But then the cleric presented something unexpected — a sheet of parchment sealed with wax.
"Lady Pestis, this came from the Apostle of Desire within the city. It bears an official order from the Witch of Desire herself."
"Oh?"
Pestis gave the man a long, sharp look before accepting the parchment. Her eyes scanned the text carefully. Both the handwriting and the seal were unmistakably that of the Apostle of Desire, and the tone indeed matched the commanding voice of the Witch herself.
Yet something about it… felt off. It was too timely. Almost suspiciously so.
"The Apostle of Desire is only fifth-tier," she murmured, frowning. "It's not impossible that she's been controlled… forced to send a false message. But to seize control of one of Desire's servants, even briefly… that's no small feat."
She narrowed her eyes, thinking aloud.
"Only that rat hiding in the shadows — the one who's been manipulating things from behind the scenes — could pull that off."
Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought for now. Handing the parchment back to the cleric, she said quietly:
"...I'll go."
Then, without another word, she returned to her bedchamber.
Hel was still lying limply on the metal bed when Pestis approached, but instead of speaking, Pestis crouched beside the bedframe and began to work her fingers along its surface. After a moment of mechanical clicks and scraping metal, she pushed the entire bed aside, revealing a hidden passage beneath it.
"Stay here. Don't move."
Leaving only that curt instruction, Pestis descended into the passageway.
A few moments later, she returned — but she was no longer alone.
Following her up from the darkness was a tan-skinned, brown-haired beast-eared girl, athletic and graceful. Unlike the petite and fierce Nikki, this girl's aura radiated strength and vigor — the type who could likely punch a hole through steel.
Her exposed midriff showed a hard, gleaming eight-pack that caught the light like polished bronze. Only her eyes betrayed something… off. They were faintly dull, her pupils tinged with an unnatural haze of soft pink-violet.
"That's the Beast Witch?" Hel thought silently. "Pestis, you really are paranoid — you're taking her with you?"
Her mind raced. If she struck now, she might actually complete her mission in one decisive move. But could she really wrest the Beast Witch from Pestis' grasp?
No — the risk was too high. Hel took a slow breath, forcing herself to calm down. It wasn't the right time yet. Everything still needed to unfold according to plan.
As Pestis and the Beast Witch departed, a tiny ant quietly scuttled out from the shadows and crawled beneath the metal bed. Moments later, the bed slid smoothly back into place with a soft metallic click.
The chamber returned to silence. Yet it wasn't empty anymore — there was now a new occupant, unseen.
Before leaving, Pestis had given Hel one final instruction:
"I'll be gone for several days. You know where the Witch's Blood is kept. You may move it to your quarters if you prefer, or leave it here — but you must drink one vial each day."
"Understood, Lady Pestis," Hel replied weakly.
And then they were gone.
Only after Pestis and the Beast Witch had vanished from view did Hel's expression change. The moment their auras faded completely, she allowed a small, knowing smile to curve across her lips.
"So it's you after all…" she murmured to the empty room. "The rat hiding in the shadows of Desire — the Witch of Enslavement, master of the Authority of Subjugation."