Enya landed on the first floor, casting a glance at the surrounding Puppets being controlled.
These Puppets were clearly under Sylvia Eric’s command, and at this moment, they had completely encircled Enya.
Did she look like someone they could stop?
Her dragon wings unfurled slightly behind her, and with a gentle leap, she soared out of the encirclement.
Enya stood atop a street lamp.
She lifted her head and looked up at the sky. Sophia still maintained her aerial advantage, pouring down firepower onto the ground—a very clever tactic.
If the enemy had any hidden magic users, they could easily snipe at Sophia from the shadows with long-range spells.
Enya closed her eyes, and in an instant, her senses spread out, enveloping the entire castle. In just that split second, she located several Secret Passages leading underground.
Leaping from the lamp post, she flew towards the Lord’s Manor’s grand hall. Like someone who knew the way well, she slipped into a study on the first floor.
“Of course. There’s always a Secret Passage in the study,” Enya remarked.
Yet even she felt her own joke was rather cold—she didn’t laugh.
This study was especially spacious, nearly the size of a small library. Enya gauged her position, stretched out her hand, fingers splayed, then swiftly closed them into a fist.
Hand of the Dominator.
This was a spell from Pandrake.
A deep pit opened in a straight line before her palm.
With the pit revealed, the passage beneath the floor also became exposed. Enya walked to the edge of the pit and looked down.
It was about five or six meters deep. The passage was constructed quite wide, and even laid with a beautifully embroidered carpet.
“Does this count as the first basement level?”
Enya looked at her own hand.
She really felt that the magic in this world was quite convenient.
With the ceiling broken open, rubble covered the Secret Passage. Enya jumped down, spreading her wings to hover and glide along the paths pulsing with the strongest waves of magic.
Deep underground, before a large door.
Enya paused at the threshold and glanced up.
The door was carved with images of thunder and rain.
On the left, thunder fell from the heavens, devastation in its wake; on the right, after a long drought, sweet rain revived grass and trees, with people running and cheering in joy. White Stone City had once worshipped the God of the Mountains, and it was said this faith originated from the Nature God.
Who knew, across these northern mountains, what kind of relationship there had once been between the God of the Mountains and the Nature God.
Enya placed her hand on the door, faintly hearing the sound of thunder.
“So many preparations,” she murmured with a soft laugh, withdrawing her hand.
She did not bother to push the door. Instead, at the side wall, she used the Hand of the Dominator to dig out a hole.
The door was rigged with a defensive mechanism; anyone who pushed it would be attacked. Enya did not fear it,
She just found it a waste of time, so she simply bypassed it by making her own path through the wall.
Climbing through the opening she’d made, Enya bypassed the door and arrived in a vast underground cavity.
This space was no smaller than the Lord’s Manor above!
Enya now stood on a small platform. Ahead, a wide staircase, seven or eight meters across, descended.
She advanced to the edge of the stairs, looking down at a massive circular platform.
Almost all the magic in this chamber had been drained, and the sparse remaining mana was agitated—clearly, some great magic had been activated, leaving the area in a state of magical exhaustion.
On the large platform, a gigantic Runic Magic Circle was drawn, its lines still faintly shimmering with lingering spatial distortion.
It seemed the array had been used not long ago—the traces not yet smoothed away by time.
Enya landed on the platform, crouching down and pressing her hand to the Teleportation Array.
She infused the array with magic from her own Spell Core, just as she had done before, analyzing and deciphering the Teleportation Array to make it activate once more.
Elsewhere, in White Stone City, at the Lord’s Manor.
Sophia was overseeing the ground from above.
The remaining Puppet Knights had been all but wiped out—some sliced apart by wind blades, others blown to bits by fireballs.
In the end, all that remained were fragments of broken wooden Masks.
Her side of the battle was more or less done, but Nina’s was still ongoing.
In the ring-shaped mansion, one of the wings had collapsed halfway.
Golden and purple figures dashed and chased each other in a game of hunter and prey.
Sylvia Eric was like a slippery eel, relying on her bizarre regenerative ability and the String Swap skill to switch places with ordinary Puppets, allowing her to withstand Nina’s onslaught for so long.
From her evasive tactics alone, it was clear that this Puppet avatar’s combat strength could not compare to Nina’s, so her only option was to keep dodging and buy time.
Of course, Sylvia Eric wasn’t entirely passive—she planted some Purple Threads while retreating.
Whenever Nina crossed their path, the threads would transform into razor-sharp blades.
Unfortunately, Nina was far too fast and agile; she dodged Sylvia Eric’s devious ambushes with ease.
“Hey, ugly! Are you a coward or what?”
After chasing Sylvia Eric for so long, Nina’s patience was wearing thin.
Sylvia Eric leaped from the corridor, pausing midair above the central garden. Upon closer inspection, fine threads could be seen at her feet.
Nina also leaped out from the corridor, swinging her dual swords at Sylvia Eric while nimbly dodging the sharp threads.
These threads were harmless to Sylvia Eric herself.
But anything else that touched them would be easily sliced apart. As Nina lunged at Sylvia Eric, a fluttering edge of her robe was cut clean off.
Sylvia Eric moved and spun among the Purple Threads, her movements as graceful as a dance, evading Nina’s blindingly swift strike.
After gliding past her, Nina landed on the opposite wall and swung out six golden arcs of light, each five or six meters long, toward Sylvia Eric.
Sylvia Eric, using both the threads and her String Swap ability, managed to dodge all six slashes, though at the cost of many of her carefully laid threads.
One of those slashes landed on a Statue in the central garden.
This stone statue was not of any deity, but of a seductive woman.
And this woman’s features bore a striking resemblance to Sylvia Eric herself.
Perhaps it had even been sculpted in her image.
Yet the woman carved in stone exuded a mature, alluring grace that surpassed the youthful appearance of Sylvia Eric.
After being struck by the golden sword energy, the Statue shattered instantly.
Sylvia Eric lowered her head, gazing at her own Statue.
Then she looked up at Nina.
Nina now stood a hundred meters away, perched atop a balcony railing, eyes fixed intently on Sylvia Eric.
Sylvia Eric smiled faintly and spoke, “What, are you trying to say I’ll end up like that Statue?”
“But you’ve already cut me to pieces once before.” “Want to try again?” Nina snorted coldly.
Her aura surged even stronger than before, yet despite the prolonged battle, neither Nina nor Sylvia Eric showed the slightest sign of flagging.
Sylvia Eric raised her chin slightly and slowly lifted her left hand. The shattered Statue beneath her feet began to reform.
Purple Threads dangled from the Statue.
As the threads made contact, the Statue seemed to come alive, stepping forward in an eerie fashion and charging at Nina.
The Statue’s arms spread wide, lunging toward the wall.
Nina leaped to evade, but just then a Purple Thread swept past. In midair, she twisted her body, dodging Sylvia Eric’s slicing attack.
But the building behind her lacked her agility—it could not move at all, and was immediately sliced open by the thread, leaving a gap twenty or thirty meters long.
Luckily, the thread was thin and acted in an instant, so the building’s structural integrity was not compromised. Still, the Lord’s Manor was now battered and in ruins.
Under Sylvia Eric’s command, the Statue stood again, reaching to grab Nina in midair.
Nina spun downward, sending golden arcs slashing through the grasping hand and shattering it.
Nina landed nimbly on the Statue’s shoulder.
The hand, though cut apart, was quickly reattached by the Purple Threads.
Nina glanced over at Sylvia Eric.
The Statue stood a full ten meters tall, while Nina herself was barely one meter forty—she was like a tiny mouse atop a giant.
Sylvia Eric smiled, flicking her index finger, and the Statue’s right hand swung up, slamming down fiercely on Nina’s left shoulder.
Smash!
Shards of stone flew as Nina dodged the blow, slashing the Statue’s face with a wild flurry of strikes.
Sylvia Eric, seeing her own stone head smashed to bits, showed not the slightest anger.
Suddenly, as if sensing something, her graceful figure shifted position among the threads.
Just as Sylvia Eric lightly moved, a green wind serpent lashed out at her former spot.
“Nina, cut its nape!”
From above, Sophia hovered, surrounded by wind and fire.
Hearing the shout, Nina flashed through the air, appearing at the Statue’s neck.
Spotting the wooden Mask embedded there, her short sword burst into golden light.
The sword energy severed the Mask.
The Purple Threads on the Statue snapped instantly, and the Statue itself toppled to the ground like a collapsing mountain, finally crumbling into a heap of tiny stones.
Nina and Sophia both locked their gaze on Sylvia Eric.
Alone, Sylvia Eric now faced a two-pronged assault from both air and ground, yet her face showed not a hint of panic.
After all, she was only a disposable piece…
Sylvia Eric glanced at Nina, then up at Sophia in the sky.
A wicked smile slowly curled on her lips.
“Ain, little sister… you’ll regret your arrogance.”
Sylvia Eric pressed her hands together before her chest.
When the delicate palms clapped together, there was a crisp “pa” sound.
From beneath the entire Lord’s Manor, a Spiderweb of Purple Threads rose up from the ground, slicing through everything in its path.
The web rapidly contracted toward Sylvia Eric at the center.
Nina looked down at the web at her feet, her twin swords spinning as she drilled through layer upon layer of the Spiderweb of Purple Threads.
Sophia, hovering in the sky, was untouched by the web’s attack.
Her gaze shifted to the mansion below—it had already collapsed into a heap of rubble, with nothing left to show it had ever been a building.
And atop the pile of ruins, suspended in the air, was a single Purple Cocoon.