"That's Imshi. It's definitely Imshi."
Hidden in the shadows, Hel hugged the cat-girl Niv and pointed at the loli on the screen with absolute certainty.
"Even if the words are different, that pretentious tone is exactly the same as Imshi's two clones back then."
"This…" Niv didn't know what to say anymore. Was this some kind of mutual recognition between professional schemers?
Otherwise, how could Hel be so sure it was Imshi?
Since Hel now believed the opponent was Imshi, she no longer felt any urgency to intervene. Instead, she began watching with interest to see how York would respond.
The Imshi clone Hel had encountered before was no weaker than York. If that clone hadn't been careless and fallen into Hel's word-trait trap, Hel's own clone would have been destroyed for nothing.
And this crow clearly wasn't weaker than the Blood-Clothed Bishop from back then. The fact that both sides had been holding back throughout the fight proved it.
At that moment, the situation on screen suddenly changed.
The balance between the two was broken due to a single mistake by the black-haired loli.
One of her calves was bound by a hidden golden chain.
The battle-hardened York seized the opportunity.
Golden sand rapidly condensed behind him into hundreds of sharp spears.
With a single gesture, he launched them all at her.
The black-haired loli struggled, but no matter what she did, the golden chain around her ankle didn't move an inch.
She tried to transform back into a crow—
But a cloud of golden mist enveloped her body first.
When she finally broke free from the mist, the golden spears had already reached her.
In the next instant, hundreds of sharp spears pierced straight through her small body without any resistance.
Time passed.
When the spears dissipated, only shattered pieces of flesh remained, falling toward the ground.
"Is that it? So much for a 'Seven Demon Apostle.'"
York sneered and was about to withdraw his Mental World.
But then he froze in horror.
The purple-black veins clinging to the golden barrier were still there.
"Something's wrong."
His pupils shrank as he hurriedly looked toward the falling flesh.
Those fragments were changing midair.
They transformed into countless black feathers, drifting downward.
Almost instinctively, York cast a spell at them.
[Advanced Wealth Magic: Midas Breath]
A massive golden storm formed at the tip of his staff and surged forward.
Wherever the golden wind passed, the ground and buildings alike turned into solid gold.
No matter what they had been before, everything became golden under its sweep.
The falling feathers were no exception.
But York realized the danger too late.
From within the storm's path, a pale white hand emerged from the sea of feathers.
With a gentle wave, terrifying purple-black energy swallowed the unstoppable golden wind.
Corrosion. Consumption.
In moments, the golden storm was completely erased.
At the same time, the loli's soft, childish voice rang out again.
"In the name of Lapsu, praise to Morse. May the spirits of the dead hear. May the spirits of the dead answer."
[Supreme Cataclysmic Magic: Corrupted Undead Catastrophe]
As the final syllable fell, an overwhelming surge of black energy erupted from the black-haired loli's body, shooting into the sky like a pillar of light.
It collided with the golden firmament, exploded, and poured down over the entire city.
Purple-black energy followed, climbing the beam like twisted vines crawling up a tree.
Together with the death mana, it spread across every corner of this world.
The ground cracked open.
Countless skeletons clawed their way out.
But these were not ordinary undead made of white bone.
Each of them was covered in purple-black crystalline growths.
Some resembled coral, others looked like flowing, viscous liquid.
They decorated the undead, making them look like demons crawling up from the depths of the ocean.
With every step they took, drops of thick purple-black fluid fell from their bodies.
Everything they touched was rapidly contaminated.
"The perfect fusion of death and corruption… What kind of magic is this?"
York stared at the undead with a grave expression.
Their individual strength wasn't high—
But their nature was utterly abnormal.
It was like forcing two completely incompatible systems together while preserving both of their traits.
Only ancient monsters who had studied death and corruption magic for countless years could pull off such a technique.
Faced with this strange magic, York didn't dare act rashly.
He hovered in the air, keeping his distance.
But the undead, having lost their main target, began attacking the living citizens below indiscriminately.
"Stop them!"
The elderly Chui-de royal shouted in fury and charged forward.
Violent battle aura burst from him like a raging storm.
The low-tier undead were shattered into bone fragments in less than a second.
Behind him, the other royal experts joined the fight.
For a moment, the undead were completely suppressed.
But what they failed to notice was—
Each time an undead was destroyed, a strange purple-black mark appeared on their faces.
The leading elder, who had slain countless undead, now had an entirely bluish-purple face.
Yet he showed no awareness at all.
Instead, he wore a twisted smile as he continued burning through the last of his battle aura.
This horrifying scene was clearly observed by York.
Even a veteran who had dealt with the Supreme Church for years was shaken by such magic.
He swallowed nervously and looked at the black-haired loli floating nearby.
His voice trembled slightly.
"Magic of this level is already comparable to a natural disaster. Yet in all the Church's records over tens of thousands of years, there is no mention of you.
So…Who are you, exactly?"