The clock tower of the Temple of Holy Light rang by itself in the middle of the night.
The Da Zhanglao snapped awake from his meditation, his hand instinctively gripping his Staff.
In all his years, he had never seen the Goddess statue make a sound like that.
The vibration didn’t come from outside—it surged up from deep within the source of holy light inside the statue, carrying an indescribable, ancient dread.
“Just now…”
“An Evil God has set its sights on the Temple.”
He pressed his voice low, as if speaking to himself.
The Elders behind him exchanged glances, unwilling to believe it. The Temple had layers of holy light protection laid down by generations of Elders—layer upon layer. There was no way an Evil God could penetrate them.
The Da Zhanglao didn’t turn around. He just stared at the crack slowly forming at the corner of the Goddess statue’s eye, his voice growing heavier.
“The holy light protection is still intact.”
“But the cracks on the Goddess statue are marks left behind when he forcibly tore through the barrier.”
He didn’t know how he had found that crack.
But he knew there was something inside the Temple that had drawn him.
That dark magic power—so strong it made even the Holy Light Goddess statue sound the alarm—had erupted from within the Temple just moments ago.
Shirley was the first to sense that darkness, earlier than any of the Elders.
The Da Zhanglao’s gaze pierced through the walls, looking deep into the Temple.
At that moment, in the room.
Shirley was staring blankly at a candle.
The necklace Victor had just pressed into her palm was still there, the pendant still carrying the warmth of his fingers.
The way he had rushed out just now was especially strange. He used to get shy, used to make excuses to avoid her clinginess, but never like today—he hadn’t even closed the door properly.
She was about to chase after him when suddenly, the source of holy light throughout her body sounded a piercing alarm.
That dark fluctuation was too familiar—not the aura of an enemy, but the one she thought about every day, the one she always drew close to, yet he always dodged. His aura.
“Victor is in danger!”
She burst out of the room, sprinting down the corridor.
When she shoved open Victor’s door, she saw him standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by undissipated dark magic power.
In his eye sockets, the green eyes she had known since childhood had completely turned into a deep, dark purple.
Her source of holy light screamed in alarm:
‘Don’t get close. This isn’t him. This is the minion of an Evil God.’
But her feet had already thrown her toward him.
“Victor—I’ll help you drive away the darkness!”
The corner of his mouth twisted into an unfamiliar smile.
Dark magic power exploded from within him like a solid force, turning into countless dark-purple blades flying toward her.
She spread her holy light wings, golden light shields unfolding layer by layer in front of her, forcefully blocking all the attacks.
But the impact of that darkness still sent her sliding several meters across the stone floor.
Holy light and darkness clashed violently in midair.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed the light shield another inch forward.
Her fingertips began to shake violently.
Too close.
So close she could see that dark purple in his eye sockets, so close she could feel that darkness desperately suppressing something.
Then his hand moved.
Just a slight tremor, as if another person was fighting for control of that hand.
She saw his lips move. No sound came out, but she read the shape—
‘Go.’
“How dare you disobey this lord.”
His voice was hoarse and twisted, as if two souls were fighting for control of the same body.
A black magic circle exploded beneath his feet, and his figure vanished instantly.
“I’ll go release that old servant first.”
“Forget it—I’ll enjoy the delicacy in front of me later.”
Shirley knelt on the ground, gasping for breath, sweat all over her forehead, her fingers still clutching the doorframe tightly.
She knew that the one who had said “go” wasn’t the unfamiliar being controlled by the Evil God. It was Victor.
He was still inside.
He hadn’t been completely devoured yet.
***
In the deepest cell of the Holy Light Prison.
A black magic circle emerged from the void.
Victor stepped out of the circle. The two Temple Knights on duty didn’t even have time to react before they were knocked unconscious by the oppressive dark aura.
The Old Man in Black Robe was already kneeling on the ground, so thin he was nothing but bones, the ghostly flames in his eye sockets almost blazing out.
Victor, controlled by the Evil God, looked down at him from above.
The old man’s face twisted with ecstasy.
“My great Master—you have finally descended!”
“You’re still somewhat useful.”
Dark magic power turned into blades that sliced through all the holy light chains that had bound the old man for years.
The sound of chain fragments hitting the ground echoed endlessly in the empty cell.
“I can only stay for a little while.”
“You continue collecting sacrifices for me.”
“That Sheng Nu—the source of holy light inside her is delicious.”
“You must sacrifice her to me.”
“As you command—my great Master!”
As soon as the words were spoken, the extreme darkness that had filled the cell suddenly dissipated.
Victor’s body swayed, the dark purple in his eyes quickly receding, revealing those green eyes again.
He clutched his chest in pain, dropping to one knee, his chest heaving violently as if it had been torn open.
The old man slowly stood up, flexing his wrists that had been bound for who knows how many years. He walked over to Victor, reached out a withered hand, and gently patted his head.
“You sure are lucky, kid.”
“You know, back when I was chosen to be a servant, I went through a long time.”
“I never thought that just by making your first dark sacrifice, the Evil God would take a liking to you.”
“With talent like that, I’m almost jealous.”
He paused, and his voice carried a little less of its usual chill and a little more of an emotion even he didn’t fully recognize.
“Alright, I guess we’re fated.”
“I’ll take you out of here first. Once the Temple Knights come to their senses, it’ll be hard to leave. After all, this is the God of holy light’s territory.”
A dark magic array enveloped both of them at the same time.
The dark magic array closed.
In the empty cell, only the broken fragments of the holy light chains remained, scattered all over the ground.
When Shirley came to her senses, the corridor was already filled with hurried footsteps.
By the time the Elders arrived with the Temple Knights, all they saw was her kneeling in the middle of Victor’s empty room, head bowed, long hair covering her face.
The Da Zhanglao looked around.
The remains of the broken shielding array.
The lingering dark magic power in the air that hadn’t dissipated.
And the bloodstains slowly drying on Shirley’s fingertips.
He didn’t ask where Victor was. He just quietly watched his most beloved Disciple, watched as she hugged the dark blue coat Victor usually wore tightly to her chest, her shoulders trembling slightly.
He didn’t ask if Victor was the source of all this. He just gently placed his hand on Shirley’s head, his voice old and calm.
“Child, what happened?”
Shirley looked up, her eyes red as if they were about to bleed, but her voice was eerily calm.
“Da Zhanglao.”
“Victor… he was taken by the Evil God.”
“It wasn’t voluntary. The Evil God controlled him.”
“At the very end, he told me to go.”
“He’s still in there. He said go, told me to leave.”
She grabbed the Da Zhanglao’s sleeve, her voice starting to tremble, but every word was dug out from the deepest part of her heart.
“I’m going to bring him back.”
“He’s my brother, my Holy Acolyte, the one I can never give up on, no matter what.”
The Da Zhanglao looked at her and was silent for a long time.
Then, he spoke slowly, his voice sounding like it came from a distant age.
“Child.”
“He is also the slave of the Evil God.”
“The vessel chosen by the Evil God.”
“What you face is not just your brother, but also the existence behind him that even the Goddess of Holy Light fears.”
“I know.”
She hugged the dark blue coat even tighter.
“But he’s Victor.”
“No matter what controls him, no matter what he becomes—”
“He is still my Victor.”
“If even I give up on him, then there will be no one left in this world who remembers what he really was.”
The Da Zhanglao looked at her, then at the dark residue slowly fading on the floor.
He seemed to have aged many years all at once, or perhaps he was simply looking at an ending he had long foreseen but never wanted to face.
“Go.”
“Go bring your brother back.”
Shirley stood up, folded the dark blue coat neatly, and placed it on her bed.
Then, she picked up the short sword.
On the hilt was carved a crooked holy light flower, identical to the one the Dean had sewn onto her sleeve.
She knew he was no longer in the Temple.
But she knew she would find him eventually.
No matter how far, no matter how long.
No matter what he became—
She would find him.