Boom! Boom! Boom!
The grand Prime Minister’s Residence had already been reduced to rubble and ruins, engulfed in roaring flames.
Amid the blazing inferno, several beams of light flickered and intertwined.
Endless magical energy stirred gusts of wind, weaving ceaselessly in this confined space, erupting into bursts of dazzling brilliance again and again.
“Ha…” Alice only felt the magic within her body draining away, yet there was not a trace of worry or anger on her face.
On the contrary, a few faint blushes blossomed across her pale skin, and her bright eyes shone with longing, as if she eagerly awaited the moment her life would end in this battle.
In fact, Alice’s fighting style was exactly like this.
She charged recklessly back and forth, repeatedly driving herself into a desperate situation, using her self-sacrificing spirit to dance on the brink of death time and time again.
“Aren’t you afraid of dying?”
Montague, the Grand Duke, a master proficient in all kinds of magic and seemingly unfathomable, showed astonishment. Waving his wand, he cautiously probed in a low voice, “Let me guess, Miss Alice, you intend to kill me and then take your own life, right?”
The Grand Duke’s voice was firm and strong.
Even though his magic was nearly depleted under Alice’s relentless assaults, he maintained a composed demeanor.
“So what if I am?” Alice replied calmly, then suddenly thrust forward, sending the withered, black power surging swiftly toward the Grand Duke.
Swish—
The aged Sword Saint raised his wooden sword and swung with all his might, forcibly blocking Alice’s sudden attack once again.
“Cough cough!” The Sword Saint’s wrinkled old face stiffened completely, his eyes full of caution as he glanced at the irresistible power in Alice’s hands.
“Evil God…” The Sword Saint sighed slowly, “Had I known, I shouldn’t have sent Green to carry out that mission in the first place.”
“Please, Lord Sword Saint, do not regret,” the Prime Minister said with a kind smile. “After all, you still have the chance to personally correct all mistakes, don’t you?”
“Once this is over, I will bestow upon Mr. Green—the great Paladin who has always fought on the front lines against the cultists—the highest honors.”
Montague’s face remained calm as he spoke, “Although this monster Alice has fallen to become a vessel of the Evil God, I believe that was never Master Green’s intention.”
The Prime Minister glanced at the girl whose eyes were filled with hatred, smiling faintly, “Speaking of which, wasn’t Mr. Green’s death all caused by this witch?”
“Alas, if I’m not mistaken, the young and strong Mr. Green, once gifted beyond compare, has been stuck in the same place for years and even lost the blessing of the Holy Light, mostly because of this girl, right?”
Montague pondered for a moment, then clapped his hands.
“Oh, I remember now. I heard the Temple of Light has a secret technique called the Transgression Ceremony, which allows the caster to bear the original sins of the one who is affected.”
Montague chuckled hoarsely, “That Mr. Green was as foolish as ever. Miss Alice, I’ve actually investigated you—you initially could not perceive the Light element during the Paladin selection, right?”
Alice, who was about to continue fighting fiercely, halted suddenly.
Transgression Ceremony, bearing original sin?
She suddenly recalled when Archbishop Lawrence arrived at Fertile City and she was mocked by everyone in the Temple of Light for being unable to sense the Light element.
Yet just one day later, she could not only sense the Light element but had even become a once-in-a-century genius?
Alice felt as if plunged into an ice cavern.
Having already ascended to a higher level, she easily discerned that Montague’s words were true.
She—had she really caused Master’s death?
“What a pity, all of Mr. Green’s painstaking efforts were in vain.”
Montague’s tone suddenly softened. “Miss Alice, don’t you feel utterly shameless? Taking away someone else’s originally happy life and failing to cherish it, instead falling into the role of the Evil God’s lackey?”
Alice froze completely.
The killing intent that had surged within her vanished into thin air, leaving only a lonely girl sobbing uncontrollably.
“I—I’m sorry, Master…” Alice collapsed to her knees, broken, “Master…”
Scenes from her memories with Green in the slums kept flashing through her mind.
“This will be your home from now on.”
The warm hand that brought her from the slums to the elegant Residence in the Upper City.
“Alice, don’t lower your head. You don’t need to apologize.”
The broad figure in Saint Martin Academy who protected him from bullies.
“This horse is your birthday gift.”
Green’s smiling face as he presented the snowy wind horse before her.
One vivid scene after another echoed in Alice’s mind, dispelling the soul corrupted by withered power and miraculously restoring her clarity.
“You’ve finally come to your senses, Miss Alice.”
Montague proudly raised his wand, aiming at Alice’s heaving chest. “Then, for the sake of the late Green, Alice, please obediently die.”
“Or do you want everything Green built in his lifetime to be destroyed because of you?”
“Obediently die?”
Alice stared blankly at the fireball already gathering magic and about to pierce her chest, her face utterly unmoved.
Perhaps—perhaps that Prime Minister was right?
“Master.” Her tear-red nose lifted as she looked up, like the girl who once cuddled in her master’s arms, “I will atone with my death.”
So Alice gave up resisting.
“That Prime Minister really knows how to talk.”
Nearby, the Marshal picked up his spear and shook his head with a sigh, “A few words from him can outshine our two legendary peak heroes?”
The Sword Saint said nothing, turning his head slightly, as if unwilling to witness the current scene.
Montague’s eyes flashed with excitement, witnessing the demise of the Evil God Alice at his hand, already planning how to use this incident to remove the annoying political rival Archbishop Lawrence from power.
Thanks to that idiot Green, and his equally foolish disciple.
In a daze, Montague could already see himself removing the Crown from the Queen’s head, sitting on the throne to accept the worship of the people.
Clang!!!
But a clash of metal shattered the quiet night.
That Forbidden Spell-level magic ball, emitting blue flames and containing enough power to instantly fell a mature dragon, was miraculously blocked.
A figure appeared before Alice.
Whoosh—
Thick black smoke dissipated.
“It’s you?!” Montague, always calm and expressionless, now stared wide-eyed as if seeing a ghost.
“You—you were supposed to be dead!” He shouted, “No, this must be an illusion from the Evil God!”
“The Evil God you mentioned, could it be him?”
The mysterious figure opened their palm slightly, revealing a glowing orb flickering within.
Strangely, faint facial features emerged—the withered cult leader who had self-destructed not long ago.
Swish!
The figure clenched their hand, and the flickering light ball was instantly blown away and extinguished.
“That’s enough, Prime Minister.”
The figure bowed slightly. “Since I’ve already eliminated the root of evil, might you kindly be magnanimous and forgive my disciple’s earlier rudeness?”
“Ha…”
Taking a deep breath, Montague’s eyes were full of confusion, but the seasoned schemer quickly regained composure. “That’s impossible. After all, your disciple recently went on a rampage, causing many prominent gentlemen to die unnatural deaths. How could you let him off so easily? Don’t you agree, Sword Saint?”
The Commander of the Holy Knights of the Royal Temple of Light pondered for a moment, gazing at the figure with a complicated expression.
“Although I don’t know how you came back to life, I’m quite glad.”
The Sword Saint muttered grumpily, “But as a disciple, can’t you learn to properly respect your master?”
“This time, I’m afraid not, Master.”
The figure tightly shielded the confused Alice behind them.
“After all, Alice is my disciple!”
That voice…
The despairing Alice looked up in disbelief.
“Master? Master?”
Amid the voice of joy, the frowning Sword Saint sighed, “You really haven’t changed a bit, not a single bit after all these years, Green.”
The Paladin, who was supposed to be dead, smiled in response.
“Can’t help it, who told me I’m a Paladin!”
Clang—
He drew his longsword.
“Purging Strike!”
Boom!!!
A dazzling white light flashed by.
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Ts so peak 🥹