In the wide-open doorway stood a woman dressed in opulent, dark red attire—the mistress of this mansion.
The gaunt man frowned deeply upon seeing her.
As the woman with her alluring figure approached, the man’s expression gradually faded, though a flicker of anger at being abruptly interrupted still hid in the depths of his eyes.
He looked at her, about to say that the time wasn’t up yet, but he noticed the woman, who usually ordered others around with an air of authority, had lost her usual elegance and was now flustered and panicked.
The moment she reached him, she grabbed the gaunt man by the collar.
“We’re leaving. Right now!”
“What…”
Upon hearing this, the gaunt man immediately showed a look of confusion.
Why leave this place? After all the painstaking effort they’d put in here, how could they just abandon it?
Hearing his doubt, the woman instantly flared up. No one here could question her decisions!
“Stop wasting time!”
With that, she began forcefully dragging the man toward the door. Halfway there, however, the man suddenly
wrapped his arms around a bookshelf laden with books.
Feeling a massive resistance, the woman turned her head and glared at him viciously. It was then he spoke up.
“The manuscripts! My manuscripts!”
“……”
“I have to take those. I absolutely cannot leave them behind!”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re my children!”
“You useless fool! Do you have any idea what’s happening right now?”
The woman’s face, which could be described as stunningly beautiful, was now covered in frost. Her narrow, phoenix-like eyes glared coldly at the man.
She was undoubtedly a beauty one in a hundred thousand, but in the eyes of this gaunt man, she seemed incapable of stirring even a shred of desire. After all, he knew the true nature of this rose all too well.
“Let go of me.”
The man roughly shoved her hand away, then quickly ran toward the sofa.
He dropped to the floor, pulled out a suitcase from underneath it, and rushed to the desk where he worked.
Those somewhat pale, withered hands frantically searched through every manuscript on the floor and desk that was useful to him, stuffing them haphazardly into the leather case.
The man was completely immersed in the task.
Seeing this, the woman’s face darkened. She strode over, kicked the man over, and sent the suitcase flying.
Crash!
Her strength was immense. The suitcase smashed into a bookshelf at high speed. After a cacophony of noise, books and papers scattered everywhere.
Upon seeing this, the gaunt man fell to his knees. He grabbed his hair with both hands; his eyes, already bloodshot, widened even further, as if they might burst.
The woman completely ignored his distress, shouting at him.
“Don’t you understand there’s no time!”
“What good is leaving without those things?”
“If we survive, if we just survive, there will still be a chance…”
“There is no such chance!”
“What? What are you saying?!”
The two began to argue fiercely, a serious disagreement over whether to stay or go.
The beautiful woman’s expression was icy as she tried to drag the man away, but he had already slumped into a state of utter dejection.
“You go… just go by yourself…”
The gaunt man went completely limp, having given up on everything.
Seeing him like this, the woman’s body trembled.
“You’re insane! Truly insane!”
“……”
The man remained silent.
Just as the woman was about to simply pick him up and carry him away…
Boom!
The wall exploded.
The wall closest to them, the one facing the street, suddenly shattered into countless fragments that hurtled toward them.
Fortunately, the woman promptly used magic to erect a barrier. Stones of various sizes flew past them, causing secondary destruction behind them. Some struck the barrier, sending ripples across its dim blue glow.
Amidst the rubble and dust, something else was hidden—formless, intangible, yet razor-sharp “blades.” Concealed within the flying debris, they cut deep, numerous gashes throughout the study.
A spurt of blood suddenly erupted from the woman’s raised arm. Before she could even register shock, she saw a crack appear in the barrier.
By the time she reacted, the barrier was already crumbling into pieces. Those invisible, imperceptible blades sliced non-lethal wounds across their bodies.
All of this happened in just three seconds. As everything settled and the dust began to clear, sunlight poured in through the massive new opening, forming a pillar of light. Within it stood a figure clad in a black dress.
Enya held her head slightly high, looking down with disdain at the man and woman, one prone, one kneeling.
The beautiful woman glanced down at her disheveled state, then at the man beside her, and couldn’t help but grit her teeth secretly.
Just as she struggled to her feet, her other hand—hidden behind her back and clutching a black dagger the thickness of a finger—was poised to strike at Enya, she was horrified to discover that hand was severed!
She watched as her own hand fell to the ground with a thud. The cut was terrifyingly clean, and blood began to gush out.
Then her entire body collapsed to the floor, blood also welling from her heels.
“When?!”
The woman was stunned. She hadn’t seen Enya make any move at all, yet not only was her hand cut off, but her feet had been severed as well.
She looked up at Enya, silhouetted against the light. That face, beautiful enough to inspire envy, held a pair of utterly indifferent golden eyes gazing down at her kneeling form. The moment their eyes met, she felt as if her very soul had been pierced.
Reacting quickly, the woman immediately lowered her head, avoiding direct eye contact.
They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, so meeting another’s gaze is a direct confrontation of souls. In just an instant, any thought of resistance within her was swept away. She was now trembling with fear.
Enya looked at the woman who had lunged at her, only to be cut down by the “blade-less” blade, without a shred of pity in her eyes.
Enya raised her foot and placed it on the head of this once-proud, beautiful woman, pressing her face into the dust and rubble.
“You’re not convinced? Strength is strength. What is there for you to be unconvinced about?”
“……”
Her words fell, followed by utter silence in the room.
Enya lifted her foot from the woman’s head and walked slowly over to the sofa. It had been smashed beyond recognition, with only one armrest remaining relatively intact.
Enya, her hand clad in a lace glove, lightly brushed it.
A gust of wind swept away the dust. She turned and gracefully sat down on it, then turned her gaze to the two.
A mischievous smile played on Enya’s lips as she spoke.
“Originally, I couldn’t be bothered with you. But you learned a bit too much through the memories of that butler and maid.”
Upon hearing this, both the woman and the man held their breath for a few seconds, then began breathing at a reduced rate. Their faces were pale. The woman had barely managed to stop the bleeding with magic to stay alive.
The current situation was that their chances of survival were almost zero.
And just then, Enya suddenly seemed to be in a playful mood, uttering a terrifying statement to the two of them.
“However, I’ve actually been in a fairly good mood lately. So, I’ll give you a chance. One of the two of you can live. And I’ll leave the choice up to you.”
“Aren’t I merciful?”
Enya’s originally cold, indifferent face broke into a seemingly innocent smile. In the past, she used to beat heretics daily, and to keep from getting bored, she had devised quite a few methods and games.
One must never pity these two. The harm they caused far exceeded what their Fifth-Tier strength suggested. Nearly half the town’s population, close to three or four thousand people, had been killed by them!
Letting them die would be far too merciful.
With a slight flick of her left hand, the small black dagger originally held in the woman’s severed hand suddenly sprang up and flew into Enya’s grasp.
It was a completely black dagger, crafted from special obsidian.
More of a scalpel than a dagger, its blade was tiny, barely two centimeters, with the rest being the handle.
Enya pricked her finger with it and immediately sensed the power contained within. It felt like it had struck the firewall protecting her soul, though of course, it had no effect on her whatsoever.
“A knife that can cut the soul.”
She gave the small blade a simple assessment.
The original owner of this black blade, the woman, now had her head pressed against the ground, long hair splayed messily around her. She knelt in a pool of blood, her full posterior raised high. Behind her stood the gaunt man.
He was biting his dry lips, almost drawing blood, as if mustering his courage. In a hysterical voice, he shouted at Enya, who sat on the sofa armrest.
“Let her die! Please, just let her die quickly!”
“……”
Hearing this, Enya turned her head to look at the woman with her face buried and asked.
“Do you agree?”
When Enya posed the question, the woman opened her eyes and looked back at the man behind her.
Seeing the hatred in his gaze and his utterly wretched appearance—even though this man was pushing her to her death—she felt neither resentment nor sorrow.
The woman closed her eyes, awaiting the impending death.
But it never came. Instead, she heard a thud, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.
Enya had merely glanced at the man, and a blade-less blade severed his head. Blood gushed forth like a fountain.
Her expression remained unchanged; she was quite accustomed to such scenes. After all, that’s just how this world was.
The warm, gentle life she shared with her daughter at home was built upon Enya’s own strength. Life in this world was never that mild or beautiful.
Enya walked over to the woman, crouched down, and poked her head with a finger, saying with a laugh.
“Hehehe, congratulations on surviving. Though, I actually intended to cut you. I just didn’t get the angle right. You lying on the ground happened to dodge it, so he ended up taking the blow. Now he’s died in your place. Aren’t you happy?”
“……”
Silence. No answer.
Enya looked at the woman trembling uncontrollably on the ground before her.
While her face wore a smile of pleasure, as if delighting in toying with human lives, her eyes remained deeply indifferent.
Of course she knew that even some heretics had emotions.
They could feel fear, they could care for others, they could grieve for someone’s death, and they could choose to sacrifice themselves to save another.
And then?
Should I spare your life because of that?
Pah!
Enya said flatly.
“I’ll ask, you answer. If you don’t speak, I’ll slowly chop his soul to pieces.”
“I… I’ll talk…”
The woman on the ground, having gone through all this, was completely broken. In a hoarse voice, she agreed to Enya’s demand.
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