Imshi's tone was firm—every word a statement of certainty.
Yet after staring into Hel's eyes for a long time, she still couldn't find the slightest flaw in her expression.
So she continued with her speculation, hoping to provoke some reaction from Hel.
"We came to seize the Healing Witch in order to help the Disease Witch complete her ascension ritual. After you ambushed me, you didn't rush to finish me off. That means my appearance had already fulfilled your objective. So you're here to help the Disease Witch as well.
But we're doing this to force her into signing a blood contract with us. What about you?Are you trying to steal Pestis's divinity…?"
Imshi cast Hel a meaningful glance.
Then she stepped back twice.
"So the Death Witch is actually plotting something like this. No wonder you weren't afraid of the War Witch at all. No wonder you suddenly appeared at the Aira Royal Court. You had already entered the game long ago.
The only question is—how deeply involved are you now?"
At that point, Imshi no longer felt like continuing the conversation.
She slowly retreated toward the already fully burning platform, spread her arms, and gave Hel a theatrical bow.
"We'll meet again, Death Witch. I hope next time, you'll bring me even more enjoyment."
Smiling, she leaned backward into the roaring flames.
But just before falling in, her body strangely froze in midair. She raised a finger to her cheek.
"Oh, right. I almost forgot to tell you—that old man from the Holy Tribunal is rather tough. So once you get out, you'd better run."
With that, she finally plunged into the fire.
The flames erupted violently, instantly devouring everything around them—the tower, the thorns, and the faceless people alike.
Hel's surroundings changed once again.
She found herself back in Chui-de City, now standing atop the inner city wall. Thick thorny vines bound her tightly in a narrow space.
Fortunately, Hel's physical body wasn't made of cheap materials. Combined with the mind-realm barrier covering her surface, the thorns couldn't penetrate her defenses.
After clearing them away and moving to the edge of the wall, she saw the horrifying truth:
The entire city had been swallowed by thorns.
At the city's center, atop the Sacred Oak, the massive golden scale still hovered in the sky—now completely wrapped in countless thorn vines.
Yet a soft golden glow shielded the scale from their encroachment.
On one side of the scale, a translucent figure knelt with hands clasped in prayer.
It was York, the Holy Tribunal's special envoy.
"He's not dead? No… he is dead. That's only his soul."
A strong sense of unease rose within Hel.
And in the very next moment, a vast, echoing voice rang out from the scale.
[Supreme Fate Magic: Equivalent Exchange.]
"Equivalent exchange… What is he trading? And what's the price?"
Before Hel could think further, countless beams of golden light poured down from the scale.
The numbers above the heads of those trapped in the thorns reappeared—then began to plummet at a terrifying speed.
In mere moments, they hit zero.
Each time a number vanished, the person exploded into dust.
Not only people—numbers appeared above the entire city itself.
Hel immediately dashed out of the city.
Just after she crossed the boundary, the ancient city with thousands of years of history began to crumble into sand under the golden light.
In the end, Chuid City was reduced to a vast desert.
"As expected of the Holy Tribunal," Hel muttered. "They really do wipe out entire cities at the slightest disagreement."
She cast one final glance at the soul hovering above the golden scale, then swiftly flew away.
Once the scale was completely out of sight, she used her undead space to teleport back to the underground area of Heim City.
At the same time, the black-haired loli used a secret technique to transmit the metal case in her hands elsewhere.
High above the clouds stood an inverted tower, surrounded by thorns and perpetual storms.
On a thorn-woven swing, a barefoot girl with twin ponytails—half black hair, half purple—was gently swinging.
A ghostly figure flew toward her, holding a metal case designed specifically by the Holy Tribunal to contain witches.
"Xixi, the Healing Witch has been transferred."
"Good. Perfect timing."
Imshi removed a green crystal necklace from her neck and handed it to the spectral figure, who took it effortlessly—unlike ordinary ghosts, she could touch physical objects.
Only high-tier undead could do that.
"This is the final time. Once we strip the Healing Witch's authority, we should have enough power to restore your body."
"But Xixi," Psyche said timidly, "Isn't that unnecessary? I could just take another body, right? Why spend so long collecting divine authorities?"
"You don't understand, Psyche. When you're close to becoming a demigod, you'll see the difference. Demigods and ordinary transcendents are entirely different beings.
Only those with special bloodlines can reach that realm. And to break through, your bloodline must be complete.
Your original body was destroyed by holy fire. If you want to advance, you must revive your original form.
Otherwise, you'll end up like Pestis—trying divine fusion. That path is a dead end."
"Is that so…?"
Psyche nodded quietly and began carefully working on the metal case's security seal.
Watching her, Imshi thought silently:
"It's been three thousand years since you took the holy fire for me. At last, you're about to reclaim your body."