Chapter 117: Wait a little longer

“I ate.”

Freya picked up her teacup and took a sip.

“Then why do you have that look on your face?”

Sophie leaned in closer and lowered her voice.

“Did something happen?”

Freya didn’t answer.

Her gaze passed over Sophie’s shoulder and fixed on the other corner of the canteen.

Several Mutual Aid Society members were sitting there, eating quietly.

Their movements were perfectly uniform—

Lifting the spoon, bringing it to their mouths, putting it down, chewing, then lifting the spoon again.

Like puppets controlled by a single string.

“Sophie.” Freya set down her teacup.

“Don’t you think those Mutual Aid Society members seem off?”

Sophie turned to look, then turned back.

“Off? How so?”

“I can’t put my finger on it. I just feel like they…”

“They’re fine.” Sophie cut her off.

“They’re eating pretty happily.”

Freya fell silent.

She looked at Anke. Anke also shook her head.

“I don’t notice anything wrong. Aren’t they just the Mutual Aid Society people? They’ve always been like that.”

Freya didn’t ask further.

She lowered her head and continued eating.

But her peripheral vision never left that corner.

Those people were still eating, their movements still perfectly synchronized, like wind-up toys.

People came and went around them, but no one spared them a glance.

It wasn’t deliberate ignoring—they truly didn’t notice.

Those irregularities seemed nonexistent in others’ eyes.

Lyra noticed too.

She put down her fork, her red eyes fixed on them, brows furrowed tightly.

“Boss, there’s definitely something wrong with them. Why can’t Anke and Sophie see it?”

Freya was silent for a moment.

“Because they can’t see it.”

“But it’s obvious—”

“Not with their eyes.” Freya interrupted her.

“With magic perception. Their magic isn’t sharp enough to sense those subtle irregularities.” She paused.

“You can sense it because you’ve awakened both light and shadow magic. Light magic is sensitive to abnormal states, and shadow magic is keen on hidden auras. You can see what others can’t.”

Lyra blinked.

“What about you? How can you sense it too?”

Freya didn’t answer.

Of course she could sense it—

Not because of magic, but because of the Mana Heart Crystal.

It pulsed gently in her heart, each beat like a radar, capturing every anomalous wave around her.

The strangeness in those Mutual Aid Society members pricked her heart like tiny thorns.

After eating, Freya didn’t go to the training ground.

She stood in the shadow of the corridor, watching the Mutual Aid Society members pass by in twos and threes.

Lyra crouched at her feet, her red eyes also tracking them.

“Boss, what’s wrong with them?”

Freya crouched down to her eye level.

“Look at their eyes.”

Lyra did. After a moment, her brows furrowed even tighter.

“There’s no light.”

“Right. They’re not blind—the light inside has gone out. Someone has suppressed their consciousness, leaving only the most basic survival instincts. They can eat, walk, and talk, but they can’t think, question, or resist.”

Lyra’s expression changed.

“Did that crybaby do this?”

“Maybe.” Freya stood up.

“Maybe not just her.”

She thought of that wisp of black mist—the Evil God’s Remnant.

It was inside Irina, consuming her magic and life force, and growing stronger.

It needed more strength to feed itself.

And those Mutual Aid Society members were the feed it had chosen. Their consciousness was suppressed, their magic drained, their life force siphoned drop by drop.

And they themselves, and even those around them, didn’t notice.

“Boss, what do we do?”

Freya stared at the distant figures walking in unison, silent for a long time.

“Let’s not alert them for now. I need to observe more.”

“But they—”

“They won’t be in immediate danger.”

Freya cut her off.

“That power is still weak right now. It can only extract small amounts of magic and life force. Once it gets stronger, it’ll be another story.”

Lyra clenched her fists.

“So we just wait here?”

Freya looked at her, at those red eyes burning with anger and worry.

“No. We investigate.”

She turned and walked in another direction. Lyra hurried to follow.

“Where to?”

“The library. There are records about the Evil God’s Remnant there. We need to find a way to break it.”

The two figures disappeared at the end of the corridor.

In the distance, those Mutual Aid Society members still walked in perfect unison, like puppets pulled by invisible threads.

Sunlight spilled over them but couldn’t reach their hollow eyes.

At the top floor of the library, in the private archive that was never open to the public, Freya opened a dust-covered ancient tome.

The pages were yellowed, the text blurred. The archaic characters crawled across the paper like ants.

Lyra crouched at her feet, staring at the words she couldn’t recognize, growing anxious.

“Boss, what does it say?”

Freya flipped through page by page.

“The Evil God’s Remnant is a formless spirit entity. It cannot directly attack humans. It can only control hosts through temptation, erosion, and parasitism.”

She paused.

“Once it successfully parasitizes a host, it will continuously devour the host’s magic and life force, and at the same time, use the host to erode more people.”

Lyra’s face paled.

“So those Mutual Aid Society people—they were eroded by that crybaby?”

“Not directly. Irina is the host; the Evil God’s Remnant is inside her. She uses her own magic as a medium to transmit the remnant’s power to those who trust and rely on her.”

Freya turned another page.

“The Mutual Aid Society is the perfect breeding ground.”

Lyra stood up.

“I’ll go tell her followers to stay away from her.”

“It won’t work.” Freya looked up.

“They won’t believe you. They’ll only believe her.”

Lyra froze.

“Then what do we do?”

Freya was silent for a long time, then closed the book.

“Find a way to break it.” She stood up and returned the ancient tome to the shelf.

“This says the Evil God’s Remnant fears pure light magic. If we can purify it with sufficiently powerful light magic, we can save those who’ve been eroded.”

Lyra looked down at her hands.

In her palm, that golden light pulsed faintly.

“Boss, is my light magic… strong enough?”

Freya looked at her, at those red eyes full of hope and tension.

“Not yet. But it will be.”

Lyra grinned, that little wolf fang glinting in the dim archive.

“Then I’ll practice even harder!”

Outside the window, the sun was setting.

In the distance, inside the Mutual Aid Society activity room, Irina sat at a desk, a thick roster spread before her.

One by one, the names on the roster lit up with a faint purple-black light.

She reached out, gently tracing her fingers over the glowing names, a slight smile curling at the corner of her lips.

“Soon,” she whispered.

“Soon, you’ll all be mine.”

Her eyes glowed eerily in the darkness.

Not pink, but purple-black, like coagulated blood.

The purple-black light rose from the paper like clusters of ghostly flames, casting an unreal shadow across her entire face.

She reached out, her fingertip lightly brushing over a glowing name—the name’s owner—

A second-year commoner girl, now lying in her dormitory, dreaming a forgotten dream.

Her magic was draining bit by bit, her life force being sucked dry drop by drop, and she didn’t even notice.

“Not enough.”

A voice sounded from within her, low and distant, impossible to tell if it was male or female.

It was the Evil God’s Remnant, squirming deep in her heart like a greedy worm, constantly feeding on her everything.

“You need more people.”

“I know.” Irina withdrew her hand and looked at the purple-black mark on her own palm.

It was larger than yesterday, darker, like a spreading bruise.

“But the Emperor has already noticed me. If I make another move—”

“Are you afraid?”

Irina was silent.

Was she afraid?

She didn’t know.

All she knew was that if she stopped now, everything she had done would be wasted.

She couldn’t stop. She could only move forward.

“Not afraid.” She stood up.

“Just waiting for the right moment.”

The Remnant laughed.

The laughter came from deep inside her, like an echo from a deep well, making her entire body tremble slightly.

“The right moment? Do you think Freya will give you a right moment? She’s already investigating. She went to the library and read the ancient texts. She knows what you did.”

Irina’s expression changed.

“How did she—”

“She has that Heart Crystal. The one Cecilia left her.” The Remnant’s voice carried a hint of greed.

“That Heart Crystal holds all of Cecilia’s power. If we can get it—”

“Impossible.” Irina cut it off.

“That Heart Crystal is in her heart. Taking it out would kill her.”

“What does it matter if she dies?”

Irina fell silent.

She thought of Freya’s face, of those always calm, seemingly all-seeing pale purple eyes.

She hated that face, those eyes, that arrogant way she looked down on everyone.

But she didn’t want her to die—

At least not yet.

She hadn’t seen Freya kneeling and begging for mercy, hadn’t seen fear and despair in those eyes.

She couldn’t die. She had to live, to bear everything Freya would inflict on her.

“Wait a little longer,” she said softly.

The Remnant didn’t answer, only letting out another low laugh from deep inside her.

That laugh made her feel cold all over.

Meanwhile, at the top floor of the library.

Freya closed the last ancient tome and rubbed her temples.

Lyra was crouched at her feet, almost asleep, her silver head drooping lower and lower.

At the sound of the book closing, she jerked upright.

“Boss, did you find anything?”

“I did.” Freya stood up and put the book back on the shelf.

“The Evil God’s Remnant can be purified with pure light magic. But if too many people have been eroded, the light magic user will suffer a backlash.”