At the eastern border of the Garden Nation, near the frontier with the Scholars' Nation…
York lay sprawled across the grass, his entire body drenched in blood.
He gasped for breath with difficulty, more air going in than coming out, as though he were hanging on by a thread.
Two figures stood beside him.
One was a knight clad in heavy armor, the other a nun holding a staff.
They too were covered in wounds. In fact, a dagger was buried completely in the armored knight's chest.
The nun was in slightly better condition, though her staff had already snapped clean in two.
Farther away—
Corpses littered the ground.
Some were fully armed knights. Some were mages in light armor.
But most of them wore the robes of church clergy.
At a glance, countless bodies formed a blood-soaked path, a road paved entirely with the dead.
"S-Sister Evelyn… we finally won."
The armored knight supported himself with his longsword, wiping the blood from his eyes as he spoke with great difficulty.
"Yes… we won."
Sister Evelyn slowly stepped to his side. She gently took out a handkerchief and carefully wiped the grime and blood from his face.
Just then, the knight spoke again, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"In order to hunt down this traitor… we lost two Saints, and countless high-tier transcendents.
The three kingdoms of Chui-de, Wyndham, and Gordon were nearly driven to collapse. Cities were destroyed, and countless civilians were left homeless.
Was it… really worth it?"
He lowered his head, falling into deep doubt over everything they had done.
As a Saint-tier reinforcer from the Knight Empire, he walked the path of mercy. This kind of seemingly meaningless sacrifice was something he simply could not understand.
But Sister Evelyn gently stroked his cheek and spoke softly.
"Of course it was meaningful.
For the authority of the church… for the stability of the continent… short-term pain is necessary.
You, me, and all those who sacrificed themselves—we have all made tremendous contributions toward a brighter future.
The world will remember our achievements.
The bards will sing our praises."
"I see…"
Hearing her comfort, the knight seemed to regain his resolve.
But perhaps even he did not notice—
In the instant he accepted her words, a trace of violet-black aura flickered deep within his eyes, vanishing in a flash.
And seeing that the knight had been completely led astray…
Evelyn—
Or rather, the puppet controlled by Imshi—
Walked toward York.
She summoned her mindscape power into her hand, shaping it into the sharpest dagger imaginable, and thrust it straight toward York's heart.
Pfft.
Blood spilled instantly, soaking the front of York's clothes.
At the same time, Imshi forced her mindscape into York's world, violently invading it.
But only a moment later, she withdrew, her expression dark.
"There's nothing…?"
Suppressing the urge to kill York outright, she took a vial of healing potion from her storage space and poured it onto the wound in his chest.
This product of the Healing Witch was precisely one of the reasons she had never given up searching for her.
Only while the Healing Witch remained alive would such potions work.
Otherwise, they would become nothing more than worthless water.
But there was only one way to find out whether it still had effect—
Use it.
So whether York lived or died depended entirely on whether the Healing Witch was still alive.
A moment later, watching the wound heal rapidly, Imshi finally let out a breath of relief.
So the Healing Witch still lives…
In that case, I need to find out where she was taken.
With that thought, Imshi placed her hand atop York's head.
A corrupt, wicked energy surged violently into his mind, ravaging his will.
Given York's current hatred toward them, controlling him the same way she had controlled the knight was clearly impossible.
If so…
She would have to use a more extreme method.
She would forcibly guide York into corruption through fallen magic.
Step by step, she began dismantling his mental defenses.
But just as she was doing so—
A clone stationed within the Savant City church delivered news.
Old Chui-de had returned to the church, and Bishop Franz had placed him under comprehensive protection.
Even the Church Guardian Knights—those assigned specifically to protect high-ranking clergy—were stationed all around his residence.
So the Healing Witch was taken away by that rat?
Imshi shot York a cold glance. She truly hadn't expected such self-sacrifice from him.
He had been willing to die just to ensure Old Chui-de could deliver the Healing Witch back.
It must have been John's order.
He sacrificed a loyal vassal… all to obtain the Healing Witch.
It seems John intends to cast that forbidden church-only spell.
The taboo magic that sacrifices everything of a witch, in exchange for a momentary blooming of divine authority.
...
"Judging from the structure of the spell array York prepared…"
Inside a private room in a library in Savant City, an elegant noblewoman in an off-shoulder gown, her flax-colored hair pinned up neatly, lifted her teacup and took a delicate sip.
"It should be the Life-type forbidden spell: Pandora's Heart."
Sitting opposite her was a small girl in a black hooded cloak.
She hugged her teacup carefully with both hands, taking tiny sips.
Two pale-purple braided pigtails fell at her shoulders, and a pair of oversized black-rimmed glasses sat on her face.
She looked like a dazed little bookish girl straight out of some literary fantasy.
But this so-called literary loli was none other than the Book Witch Hel had once encountered in the Geddes Family.
"Inform Mace," the elegant woman—the Shapeshifting Witch—said with a helpless sigh.
"Tell her to delay the plan for a few more months. At the very least, before John Remedy leaves the Southern Continent, we'd better not expose ourselves.
Besides… our Hero has undergone a small shift in her thinking.
If she continues developing in this direction, our future plans will become much more troublesome."
"And what does that matter?"
The bookish girl carefully blew on the hot tea, took another sip, and let out a satisfied expression.
Indifferently, she said,
"No matter what kind of beliefs she chooses, fate will guide her in the end.
She will still step onto that path."
But hearing this, the Shapeshifting Witch sighed again.
With a hint of indulgence, she rubbed the Book Witch's small head and explained patiently:
"Recently, two young witches from the Magic Association came to the city.
They attempted to use their authority on our Hero.
And you should know…
That Magic Witch is only one step away from breaking through into a demigod.
It's hard not to suspect she wants to involve herself in this matter."