Hearing this, Sophia looked up, her eyes lighting as she gazed at the timid and lost-looking girls.
Her mind went in another direction entirely: with a bit of nurturing, wouldn't these girls become absolutely loyal followers of Charles?
The thought made her heart race. She gave Malena a gentle, reassuring smile. "Why would he ever refuse? Life is priceless—no matter how anyone was born, they deserve care."
"Don't worry, Malena. Trust Priest Charles—he'll make sure these girls have a safe place to belong."
She lifted her head, face soft yet determined, looking out at the assembled Dark Angels. Even though a hundred nearly identical faces put her on edge, she forced a warm smile, her voice kind and clear, "Everyone, put your trust in the apostle of the Goddess of Life, Priest Nigel Charles. We'll all live together under the sun and find peace and happiness."
The Dark Angels shifted anxiously, glancing from Sophia to Malena, but as Malena nodded, their expressions softened, a sense of trust slowly blooming.
Just then, the last Dark Angel slipped into her clothes. They all looked mismatched—some squirming as their shorts squeezed their thighs, others drowning in enormous shirts—but at least their bodies were finally decently covered.
With everyone dressed, Sophia cast a sending spell to Charles:
"They're all dressed, Master, but I think you need to come in and decide what to do next."
Outside, Charles had recovered a bit of stamina. Rising, he looked over at the still-nervous and weary Shapiro and said, "They're all good now. Let's head inside."
"Don't worry, your sister is doing fine—very healthy. If there's anything to worry about… well, I'm honestly not sure there's much. You'll see soon."
Shapiro took a deep breath, struggling to calm himself, "Alright, I'll go see for myself what's happened to my sister."
Charles gave a nod and led the group inside. They passed through Sulpharlo's ruined living quarters, down the long corridor to the shattered experiment chambers.
And there Shapiro stopped dead.
He saw a hundred people, each identical to his sister—every one dressed in odd, ill-fitting clothing, huddling together in confusion, anxiety, and fear, watching the newcomers with pleading eyes.
He couldn't make sense of it. The shock overwhelmed him—his thoughts a jumbled mess.
Suddenly, he spun and grabbed Charles by the collar, glaring, "What happened to my sister? Why… why is this happening?!"
Charles sighed. "I'm not the one you should ask. Ask your ancestor, Sulpharlo. I'd love to know how all this happened too!"
Shapiro paused, then let go of Charles's collar and stepped back, his voice unsteady. "Yeah… I guess that's on my ancestor. Where is she now? Did you—did you kill her?"
Charles shook his head. "No. She's locked away—in a completely isolated pocket world."
"I'd like to interrogate her, but now isn't the time. The Dark Elves already know we raided this place—their reinforcements could show up any minute. We need to get out of here."
His reasoning was calm and thorough—hard to argue with. Shapiro looked even more lost, eyes sweeping nervously over the Malena clones before choking back a lump in his throat. "Which one of them is my sister?"
At that moment, a gentle voice called his name. "Shapiro, over here!"
Shapiro's head snapped up. There, in a chair farther back, sat Malena—her belly round with pregnancy. At her side, the Dark Elf Hanni and a flat-stomached clone tended to her comfort.
Shapiro's face lit up, and he rushed forward, "Sis! Thank the gods, you're safe…"
Malena smiled, her heart full of warmth, "Of course I'm safe. Sulpharlo had her reasons—she never meant to kill me."
She gazed at Shapiro, her eyes shining, "And you're okay too—that's all I've ever wanted. See? I told you we couldn't trust that woman. Now you understand who she really is, right?"
Shapiro dropped his head in shame, "I get it, Sis. I won't ever trust her again."
Malena looked at her brother tenderly, unwilling to scold him further. Charles waited for the siblings to finish, then stepped forward, his voice brisk, "Let's save the family reunion for later."
"Theresa, Sophia—gather up all the spoils. If it's not nailed down, bring it. We need to get out before the Dark Elves return!"
Theresa and Sophia nodded and left, searching the rest of the complex. Charles glanced at Hanni, grinning. "Thanks for gathering everything for me."
He held out his hand to the Dark Elf, "Alright, hand it over."
Hanni put on her best pout but eventually handed him her Bag of Holding, cheeks puffed in mock complaint. "Pretty much everything useful is in here. Just so you know, Sulpharlo's research is seriously twisted—I nearly died of fright just reading a page…"
Charles nodded and took the bag. "It's fine. Evil research is exactly what I'm interested in. I'll take it from here."
He examined its contents, Hanni's face almost in tears, "Can I look at it later too? I am legitimately curious…"
Charles shrugged, "Depends on your behavior."
Hanni bit her lip but held her tongue, nodding, "Got it, boss. We'll talk once we're back on the ship."
Charles paid her no more mind, turning instead to the worried crowd of Malena clones, frowning in uncertainty.
How do you deal with so many?
They were living beings—killing them was unthinkable. But bringing a hundred lookalikes to the surface was sure to cause a stir, and could reflect badly on Malena…
So… what now?
His mind raced, no solution emerging. Sensing his distress, Malena—supported by the first Dark Angel—rose and walked softly to stand at his side. She looked over her girls, then spoke with measured resolve.
"Everyone," she called gently, "I suppose you all sense it—I, Nigel Malena, am your biological mother. There's a bond of blood running between us."
Shapiro stared, stunned. He never expected that, without a word, his sister had changed her last name—to Nigel!
She had taken that Charles's name!
And what about his own surname? He gritted his teeth—Sulpharlo was out of the question, but changing to Charles felt so utterly awkward it made his skin crawl.
While Shapiro was lost in all this, Malena went on, "And this is Nigel Charles. He is your father and will guide you to safe, happy lives!"
The Dark Angels turned to stare at Charles. The memory of his battle with Sulpharlo was still fresh in their minds.
Yet, between Malena and her clones, a subtle magic—a bloodline tie—seemed to bind them. Every time Charles looked at Malena's pregnant belly, he felt a deep, instinctive thrill.
So her words rang true for the Dark Angels—her conviction contagious, leaving them eager to believe. A few shuffled closer, faces shy, heads bowed, like adorable kittens gathering at their master's feet.
Charles opened his mouth, then heaved a sigh.
Alright. If Malena doesn't mind the trouble this might bring her, he'd find a way to take care of them, no matter how difficult it got.
Malena let out a relieved breath, clutching Charles's arm, face tired but content, "Good… That's settled."
Charles held her close, whispering into her ear as if sharing a secret, "You're not afraid they'll be a burden?"
Malena murmured back, "I'm not afraid. Besides, Sophia says they'll be a big help to you. And only you can truly give them a home."
Her trusting eyes found his, confident as if he could solve anything.
Charles gave a weary chuckle. "You really do trust me."
Though he said it with a hint of complaint, he let the weight fall on his own shoulders without protest. After a thoughtful pause, he announced, "Alright, let's take everyone for now."
"Willowwind Town isn't that big. At worst, I'll build a hundred dorms to house them, and they can study life in human society. We'll figure out the long-term plan later—maybe a legion… or something else…"
Exhaustion swept over him, and he gave up on any more planning for now.
Seeing his dilemma, Malena gave him a gentle smile and didn't press. She turned to the Dark Angels, "Did you hear that? Follow me—let's return, back to the surface!"
The Night of the Witches:
Magic surges through the skies.
At the summit of Blackstaff Tower, Lady Blackstaff Vajra Safahr stood barefoot before massive floor-to-ceiling windows in her black magical leather robes, her face troubled as she gazed southwest over the city.
Her powerful foresight warned her: somewhere out there, a sinister force was awakening. If not dealt with, the city would soon face another crisis.
Yet her own strength was still recovering…
She breathed deep, calming herself. These were her responsibilities—no matter the peril, she would keep disaster from her city.
Meanwhile, on the neglected side of Garbage Island—the side Charles had never dared tread—in a secret underground crypt, a coffin trembled ominously in its sleep.
...
Underdark. Above Darklake.
Charles and the rest, along with a hundred Dark Angels, marched through the night and finally reached their ship at Darklake's shore before dawn.
A hundred identical passengers boarding at once left the beholder Lotuen and the Duergar crewmates in utter shock. They rubbed their eyes, doubting their own senses.
But Charles couldn't worry about that. The Dark Elves were still pursuing. Without delay, he joined Theresa, Hattie, and the others in casting spells to get the ship moving. Hattie unleashed spell after spell to speed them across the lake, pushing the vessel as fast as it could go.
Only once the ship reached top speed, slicing through Darklake's waters, did Charles relax, just a little. By then, nobody had a shred of energy left—everyone was completely spent.
Charles hastily assigned rooms for the Dark Angels. Thankfully, the freighter was huge—if space was tight, it could cram in three or four hundred people, so housing a hundred girls was more than doable.
When that was done, Charles rinsed himself off and headed to the captain's suite—now his own bedroom—where he fell asleep in Hattie's arms.
Six hours later, at noon—
Waking in Hattie's warm embrace, Charles felt utterly refreshed, energy coursing through him.
That's the best thing about youth: no matter how exhausted you are, a good night's sleep—and you're back on your feet.
Almost as he woke, Hattie stirred beside him, opening her gentle eyes and offering him a bright, sleepy smile. "Good morning, Master."
Charles tweaked her little nose with a finger, teasing, "It's noon. You mean good afternoon, sweetheart."
Hattie wrinkled her nose, giggling softly, pressing her full body even closer, her soft chest snuggling into his.
Charles wrapped his arms around her, letting the tiredness fade a little. He didn't want to get up right now—nor did he feel an urgent desire to do anything else. Holding this witch in silence, he summoned his system UI.
The Night of the Witches was over. All those witches, now further polluted and corroded by Chaos Energy, should have netted him another big batch of Purification Points.
Pulling up the system, he saw his points had reached thirty thousand. The biggest haul, of course, came from purifying Demogorgon's altar—which netted him eighteen thousand; the rest came from last night.
Looking at the breakdown—
Purified Hattie: +1300
Purified Ruth: +590
Purified Andny: +110
Purified Ekta: +180
Purified Sephera: +500
Purified Sophia: +720
Purified Theresa: +1500
Purified Xanathar: +70
Everything was about as he expected—stronger witches provided more Purification Points.
The only surprise was Hattie; her points were almost as high as Theresa's. Curious, Charles frowned and asked, "Hattie, have you been training even harder lately? Your power has grown a lot."
Hattie blinked, a little confused. "Not really… Oh, but after we got to Darklake—well, after we, um, played underwater that day, I felt something. Ever since, my power's been growing fast."
"I mean, every day I feel my body fill with this energy—if I'm not using magic it's almost uncomfortable. That's why I could keep spellcasting so long, making the ship move this fast."
She said it with a faint note of wonder, "I thought it was because of you, Master—your blessing made me stronger…"
Charles frowned. "If the monastery leveled up, your power would go up too, sure. But just… from being underwater that one time?"
He racked his brain in meditation, baffled. "What's the cause?"
He couldn't figure it out—and the mystery only made him fret more.
Hattie blinked, surprised that her power wasn't just his blessing. But then she smiled and whispered, "Maybe it's a good thing! Maybe it's tied to my origins… I'm from the deep sea, after all—maybe messing around underwater triggered something special…"
Her explanation was a bit forced, but it sort of made sense. Charles just scratched his head helplessly, "Well, if you say so, I guess I'll take your word for it."
~~~
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