The woman who called herself Sylvia vanished before Helos’s eyes.
With the dissipation of that translucent figure, the suffocating chill that had been pressing on Helos’s heart finally receded slowly.
The air began to flow again, and the sounds that had been cut off returned to her ears.
The rustling of leaves in the wind outside the window, and the soft thuds of Gavi moving around on the second floor, now sounded incredibly comforting.
Only then did Helos feel like she had come back to life.
She raised a hand to wipe the fine cold sweat from her forehead, gasped for air in great heaving breaths, and slumped gracelessly onto the cold floor.
Her heart was still pounding wildly against her ribs, making loud thumping sounds.
It was terrifying. The feeling that woman gave her was completely different from those blustering wraiths or those magical beasts.
It was a kind of pressure from a superior being that came from the depths of the soul, like an ant facing a dragon—that feeling of powerlessness nearly swallowed her up.
Great Slayer of Mages. The one who pulled Archmages off their pedestal.
These titles that made one’s scalp tingle—if spoken by someone else, Helos would have scoffed.
But coming from that woman, she felt it was an undeniable truth.
Creak—
Just then, the heavy door of the Rose Pavilion was pushed open from outside.
The dull scraping sound broke the hall’s dead silence and made Helos flinch.
She jerked her head up to look at the doorway.
She saw Julius walking in with a dirty rag in his hand and a few beads of sweat on his forehead, looking puzzled.
The sunlight behind him poured through the crack in the door, dispelling the last traces of gloom lingering in the hall.
“Helos? Why are you sitting on the floor?”
Julius immediately spotted the girl slumped on the floor in front of the painting in the corner.
Seeing Helos’s pale face and her disheveled state covered in cold sweat, he instantly frowned.
He dropped the rag in his hand and hurried over, reaching out to help her up.
“What happened? I thought I heard you scream just now?”
His voice was filled with concern and tension.
“Are you feeling unwell? Or did the curse…”
Helos looked at the black-haired young man full of concern before her.
Looking at her own reflection in his dark eyes, feeling the warmth of his palm against hers.
The fear that had been swirling in her heart finally found an outlet at that moment.
She took a deep breath and chose not to hide it.
Although the female ghost’s words seemed somewhat threatening, now that Helos had calmed down, she thought: why should she listen to a ghost from several hundred years ago?
She had a living saint knight standing right beside her!
Moreover, if she didn’t tell Julius, what if that female ghost really came out at night and tried to do something to her?
She was now a useless waste who couldn’t even use mana—what could she use to fight a Great Slayer of Mages?
“Julius…”
Helos grabbed Julius’s arm in return, like a drowning person clutching a lifeline.
She waved her hand to signal him to help her up first.
After Julius carefully helped her to the sofa, sat her down, and poured her a glass of water to calm her nerves, Helos finally recovered.
Clutching the water glass, she took a deep breath, organized her words, and then told Julius everything that had just happened, including everything Sylvia had said, in full detail.
From the eerie chill wind, to the woman in the painting turning around, to the ghost calling herself Sylvia’s taunts and threats, and the so-called ‘rent.’
Helos spoke in great detail, even mimicking Sylvia’s condescending tone somewhat.
“She said she was the last spellbreaker… no, the Great Slayer of Mages.”
Helos glanced at the painting that had returned to normal, still shaken.
“She also said she would teach me how to use the power inside me… To be honest, I’m a bit tempted.”
Julius listened quietly, his expression growing more solemn with Helos’s narration.
He did not show any doubt because of how bizarre Helos’s story was.
On the contrary, a thoughtful glint flickered in his dark eyes.
After Helos finished, Julius blinked and turned to look at the huge oil painting hanging in the corner.
The woman in the painting was still facing away from them, standing in a bed of red roses, looking like nothing more than an ordinary old artwork.
“Great Slayer of Mages… Spellbreaker…”
Julius repeated these two terms in a low voice.
He had read many ancient books in the Holy Mountain Library of the Theocracy of Al, and had listened to the elderly bishops tell many legends about the continent’s history.
But he had never heard of these titles.
Indeed, they were not recorded in history books.
Either this woman was lying and boasting, or as she herself said, her existence had been completely erased from history by the mages who feared her.
But whether she was truly a Great Slayer of Mages or just a wraith trapped in a painting,
One thing was certain. She had threatened Helos.
Julius’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, a dangerous glint flashing within them.
He didn’t care if she was a senior expert from several hundred years ago or if she really had earth-shattering abilities.
Since she dared to threaten the person he had sworn to protect, she would have to pay the price.
“Stay here and don’t move.”
Julius stood up and gently patted Helos on the shoulder to reassure her.
Then, with long strides, he walked straight toward the oil painting.
“Hey? What are you doing?”
Seeing his aggressive demeanor, Helos suddenly had a bad feeling.
“Don’t do anything reckless! What if you provoke her…”
Julius did not answer. He stopped just one step away from the painting.
He neither drew his sword and slashed wildly as Helos feared, nor tried to reason with the ghost in the painting.
For Helos’s safety, after a moment of deliberation, Julius made a bold and straightforward decision.
Since it was a ghost, a spirit, something hiding in a dark corner, then let her bask in the sun.
Julius stared at the woman in the portrait and slowly raised his right hand.
Clang—
A clear and holy sword resonance suddenly rang out.
He did not draw his holy sword ‘Dawn.’
But a mass of pure, warm golden light rapidly gathered in his palm, taking the shape of a holy sword.
It was not an ordinary illumination spell, but the purest power of the holy sword, originating from the depths of his chosen one’s soul.
It was the most potent poison to all undead and evil creatures.
Expressionlessly, Julius slowly raised the palm emitting dazzling golden light in front of the portrait.
It was like holding a searchlight of several thousand watts and shining it directly in someone’s face.
Holy light burst forth instantly. The originally dim corner of the hall was now illuminated as bright as day.
That sacred aura wrapped the entire oil painting tightly like a thick blanket.
Helos watched in stunned silence. She had thought Julius would use some profound sealing technique, or simply resort to physical exorcism.
She didn’t expect him to directly use ‘light therapy.’
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. The painting had no reaction.
Julius was not in a hurry either. Not only did he not withdraw his hand, but he also increased the output of holy light.
The golden light grew brighter, even carrying a hint of scorching heat that warped the surrounding air.
But after a few breaths, just as Helos thought that female ghost might really have been purified by the holy light,
A furious, exasperated curse suddenly rang out in Julius’s and Helos’s ears.