Chapter 103: Blood Rain Before the Throne

Time seemed to stretch endlessly.

The entire Throne Hall was shrouded in a fear born from the instinct of life itself, so silent that you could hear hearts pounding in chests like drums.

The only out-of-place sound was the “gurgle” from Agnis Veid’s throat.

The Duchess, who moments ago had been so overbearing, gripping the kingdom’s throat, was now suspended in midair, limbs convulsing wildly as if she were a moth caught in an invisible web.

The madness-twisted expression on her face had long been replaced by utter terror and pain, her eyes bloodshot from lack of oxygen, bulging outward.

“Who gave you the courage to lay hands on what belongs to me?”

A cold, emotionless voice spilled from Astreia’s lips.

Her platinum hair fluttered without wind, and in her purple magic eyes was only the indifference that regarded all things as dust.

Before her words even finished, her right hand, which was curled as if gripping something invisible, tightened slightly.

Crack!

A faint yet piercingly clear sound.

The Ring of Holy Light Sapphire symbolizing “Guardian of the Ten Rings” on Agnis’s left thumb shattered instantly!

The Duchess’s pupils contracted sharply!

But this was only the beginning.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

A rapid series of explosive bursts, like drumbeats, erupted in succession!

The remaining six rings on her fingers disintegrated into powder all at once.

This meant that all exemption counts of the Guardian of the Ten Rings had been used up!

Any further attack…

She would die!

“Ugh…w-wait…”

The shadow of death finally fell over her soul.

With the last of her strength, the Duchess glared with tear-filled, fear-stricken eyes, forcing a plea from deep in her throat.

“I…I was wrong. Spare me…all of it…it’s all yours, everything…”

But the Witch Queen only sneered, as if even replying was a waste of effort.

She gently beckoned with her left hand.

The Prince, still coughing, was pulled into her embrace out of thin air.

“Are you alright?”

Astreia lowered her head. In her magic eyes, the face of Wendy, flushed red from lack of air, was reflected. Her voice, surprisingly, carried a faint hoarse tenderness.

“Kh…koff…I’m fine… just that old woman licked me, disgusting.”

Wendy clutched his neck, breathing heavily.

Hearing this, a cold murderous glint flashed in Astreia’s eyes.

“Don’t worry.”

She extended her tongue, and in a gesture of claiming ownership, gently licked the cheek that Agnis had defiled.

“Tonight, I’ll personally wash away all the filth for you.”

“And then…”

“I’ll reapply my mark.”

Wendy and Laxana both stiffened, then relaxed.

Astreia, with one arm, held the Prince in her embrace and began to walk forward.

Her destination—the highest throne in the hall.

At that moment, no one paid attention to the Duchess, whose face had turned from blue to purple to black as she hung in the air, her strength fading.

All eyes were fixed on the tall figure moving toward the Throne.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Each strike of her military boots seemed to fall upon the hearts of every Noble.

“It’s over…it’s over! The Veid Family has fallen! We’re next! She’ll kill us all!”

“Demon…she’s a demon!”

Terror spread silently through the crowd, swelling into a storm that swept through their souls.

These families, whose foundations were far weaker than the Church and Magic Association, did not possess the centuries-old knowledge of taboos.

The only one who understood—Cardinal Allison Visseran—watched the ascending figure without blinking.

She knew everything, but said nothing.

Thus, none realized that the Royal Princess of Valoran, Astreia Valoran, had already fallen into witchhood.

Upon the Throne, the petite Queen trembled uncontrollably.

She could keenly sense that her elder sister had changed.

Become stronger, more terrifying, and… no longer like her sister.

A fierce fear and an indescribable jealousy seized Catherine Valoran’s heart.

But she was, after all, the Queen.

Facing those purple magic eyes that looked down on all living things, Catherine forced herself to straighten her back, slowly stood up, and with all her might, squeezed out two words.

“Sister…”

However, the expected coldness and indifference did not arrive.

A hand fell gently upon her head, softly ruffling the hair she had carefully arranged.

Just like when they were children.

“Very good. As expected of my little sister.”

Astreia’s face revealed a look of approval. Though the smile seemed otherworldly against the backdrop of her purple magic markings, it carried genuine warmth.

“…Eh?”

Seeing the familiar smile on her sister’s face, the Little Queen felt her vision blur, tears overflowing.

Astreia said nothing more, simply reaching out her other hand to embrace her sister as well.

Then, before all the Nobles of the kingdom.

She sat boldly upon the Throne that symbolized supreme power, holding Wendy in her left arm and Catherine in her right.

One throne, three people.

This unprecedented and absurd sight shattered the very foundations of the Nobility Circle’s understanding.

After all this, Astreia finally turned her gaze back to the center of the hall.

She casually lifted her right hand and pointed.

The Duchess, now with eyes rolled back, floated upward to the palace ceiling like a sacrificial offering awaiting execution.

“Remember this day.”

Astreia’s voice echoed clearly in every ear.

“If anyone dares again to insult Wendy or my sister, their end will be the same as hers.”

As she spoke, the Witch Queen displayed a smile of ultimate cruelty.

Her right hand, fingers spread.

Then, before all the horrified onlookers, she clenched it tightly.

“UWAHHHHHH—!!!”

The Duchess screamed, a wail inhuman and tortured, her eyes bulging and tongue protruding uncontrollably.

Next, her entire body twisted and compressed as if crushed by a gigantic invisible hand.

The sound of bones breaking, muscles and organs being squashed, echoed clearly.

Her form was contorted, folded, compressed into a mass of bloody, indescribable flesh.

At that moment, as the Nobles realized in terror what was about to happen—

Bang!!!

A heavy, wet sound, like a watermelon being smashed.

Agnis Veid.

The Duchess, head of the Veid Family, who had controlled the kingdom’s economic lifeblood for more than twenty years…

Exploded in midair into a rain of blood!

Scarlet plasma and shredded flesh showered down like rain, splattering across the opulent marble floor…

And across the faces of the Nobles, pale as paper…