The deathly silence within the Temple stretched infinitely, solidifying into a block of transparent amber.
There was no blood.
Across the cheek of the [Spirit of Pride], the one she had defined as "perfect," a vicious ink-stroke slashed horizontally.
At the wound, gold-black flames were silently dancing.
That was not burning, but devouring.
It was a conceptual overwrite from a higher dimension.
The Rule Divine Body's inherent super-regeneration had, at this moment, completely become a joke.
The newly formed flesh and blood tissues, just as they sprouted and attempted to seal this "error," were instantly assimilated, carbonized, and finally returned to nothingness by the dancing Black Ink Flame.
Life force did not drain away.
Filth did not spread.
The wound itself was a layer of living, burning, gold-edged black ink that was frantically expanding.
A single drop of pitch-black "ink" finally broke free from the curve of her jaw and fell vertically.
"Drip."
A circle of ink-colored ripples silently spread across the floor.
Like a full stop, it announced the end of "perfection."
[Spirit of Pride: Azure Dragon] raised her hand, her fingertips trembling uncontrollably as she slowly reached toward her own face.
Moist, viscous.
And... excruciating pain.
This pain did not stem from the flesh, but was the wail of being forcibly rewritten, transmitted from the very foundation of her "existence"!
Someone had left an indelible stroke upon the canvas of her soul, named "Pride," with the most tyrannical of gestures!
"What... is this?!"
She stared fixedly at the burning black-gold ink stain on her fingertips. In her pitch-black pupils, bewilderment was instantly replaced by an incomprehensible madness.
"Impossible!"
"I am perfect! A mere mortal, who doesn't even have the right to look up at me, how could they possibly touch me?!"
The shriek of the [Spirit of Pride] tore through the air.
She could clearly feel that the wound was rejecting her body, refusing her rules!
Every ounce of Divine Power she mobilized was treated as fuel by those golden Black Ink Flames, burning them even more fiercely.
And the perpetrator had already lightly landed back on the ground.
Lin Qingyue shook her hand with a hint of disgust, her expression as if she hadn't just touched a False God, but had accidentally crushed a filthy insect.
The Ink-Wash Black Bird perched on her shoulder flapped its wings and let out a clear, mocking cry.
"Using your 'Pride' as paper, and my Path as ink."
"This is the 'Eye-Dotting' stroke. Do you understand?"
Lin Qingyue slightly lifted her chin, and in those brilliant golden pupils, only pure condescension and scrutiny remained.
"Your 'perfection' is nothing but a soulless, blank sheet of Xuan paper, utterly lacking in artistic spirit."
"With a mere wave of my hand, I can make it... come alive with interest."
This was the most tyrannical talent of the [Yixuan] Character Card, [Grandmaster of Mysticism].
All Black Ink damage is piercing damage that ignores defense!
In this domain saturated with ink and wash, no canvas is beyond being repainted!
"Sis is really playing the part too well."
Lin Xiyue lowered her voice, hiding her face behind her shield, and whispered to Su Wan and Xia Lian.
"I'm getting goosebumps. At home, she's just a salted fish who refuses to stand if she can lie down."
Su Wan's lips twitched almost imperceptibly.
"This has gone beyond just being flashy. Even her species and art style have changed, haven't they?"
"That tone, that posture... I'd rather watch her use Barbara to spray an AK. At least that would be more down-to-earth."
Xia Lian, however, was in a completely different state.
She covered her burning face, feeling as if she were about to be steamed alive.
Her mind was filled with phrases like "This Seat" and "come alive with interest" playing on a loop, making her legs feel weak.
It's over.
She felt herself sprinting down the path of being bent, and she couldn't even find the brakes!
"How dare you... soil my face!!"
The [Spirit of Pride] practically shrieked the last few words with her entire soul.
For a monster so arrogant that she believed herself to be "perfect," a flaw on her face was far more agonizing than having the rules torn apart.
Moreover, the one who had done it was a mere insect in her eyes!
Sound waves swept through the temple, and the bookshelves on both sides collapsed with a crash, instantly turning countless ancient scrolls into dust.
Lin Qingyue had already used the force to retreat, her figure as light as a willow catkin, floating over a dozen meters before landing steadily.
She elegantly blew on her fingertips, as if brushing away a nonexistent speck of dust.
Her golden eyes narrowed slightly, the arrogance in her expression far surpassing that of the False God on the throne.
"Noisy."
"It's just a single ink stroke added, why react like this?"
Her gaze was disdainful, like a calligraphy grandmaster critiquing a ruined masterpiece.
"Your face is rigid and stiff, devoid of spirit."
"This Seat's addition of this 'Edge Breaker' stroke has actually saved this painting, giving it a touch of incomplete beauty."
She sized up the BOSS, who was on the verge of a berserk rage, her tone unhurried and steady, each word precisely stabbing at the other's most vulnerable nerve.
"Speaking of which, your current appearance is actually much easier on the eyes."
"What? Still don't understand?"
Lin Qingyue's voice turned cold.
"This Seat is teaching you what 'Beauty' truly is."
"You should kowtow in gratitude."
[Ding! The Host has not only shattered the enemy's "perfection" physically, but has also thoroughly destroyed her "Pride" from its aesthetic foundation with a Grandmaster's bearing. Elation Value +2333!]
RUMBLE—
The throne shattered completely.
And the [Spirit of Pride]'s faith shattered with it.
She rose from the ruins. That perfect female body began to violently twist and swell, ruthlessly abandoning all pretense of "beauty."
Her slender limbs transformed into thick, powerful claws. Her spine bulged in jagged sections, erupting with savage bone spikes.
Innumerable black droplets of slime surged from her body, condensing behind her into nine colossal dragon heads, each incessantly dripping venom!
"I will grind you... into powder!!"
The raging psychic pressure materialized into a tsunami, sweeping forth, causing the entire temple to groan under the weight of her fury.
Elegance?
Aesthetics?
She had thrown them all to the winds.
Right now, she only wanted to tear apart the woman who dared to deface her face using the most primal, most brutal method possible!
"Oh? So you've stooped to such an ugly state in your shame-fueled rage?"
Lin Qingyue did not retreat from the terrifying wind pressure rushing toward her; instead, she advanced.
Her footsteps grew eerie, and with each step, a black ink lotus blossomed on the ground.
"Even among inks, there is a difference as vast as the clouds and mud."
Lin Qingyue's right hand made a subtle gesture. The ink-black bird on her shoulder let out a long cry, transforming into a streak of light that coiled around her arm.
"This Seat's ink can paint mountains and rivers, can mark the heavens and earth, and is known as 'Xuan'."
She strode forward, step by step, toward the raging mass of energy, as if strolling in her own backyard.
"This Path emphasizes brushwork, ink charm, and artistic intent. Only when these three unite is it truly elegant."
She raised a finger, pointing to the still-corroding wound on the BOSS's face.
"And you..."
Lin Qingyue's lips curled into a smirk, her golden eyes brimming with mockery.
"...are nothing more than a puddle of ruined residue, known as 'Filth'."