After hearing that familiar name, a chill flickered across Vista Green’s pupils, and the rigid expression on her face finally rippled. She stared coldly at Sillirora, and ordered the confused Holy Knight behind her, “Leave.”
The Holy Knight, somewhat baffled, objected, “Saintess of Vista, the Chief Judge entrusted me with the task of guarding Saintess Sillirora. I cannot leave…”
But before he could finish, a surge of powerful magic slammed into his armor, sending him flying out and crashing into the wall outside the cell. The cell door slammed shut, sealing off all sounds within.
The Holy Knight struggled to pry himself out of the wall and tried to unlock the door with his key, but the unlocking magic was altered by Vista in an instant—the key in his hand no longer worked.
Helpless, the Holy Knight could only notify his companions via internal communication, then anxiously waited by the door.
Inside the cell, Sillirora seemed to sense the shift in Vista’s aura, her smile growing even more unrestrained.
“Did my words anger you? Haha, so you do have feelings after all! I thought the aloof Saintess of Vista had already devoted all her emotions and mind to the Divine Mother!”
“But why, then, does your blazing fury burn so fiercely? Wasn’t it you who personally sent the [Water Silver Witch]—Ailaira Green—to the tribunal?”
Sillirora seemed to realize something, forcing herself upright as she rasped hoarsely, “So what exactly are you all hiding! Everyone involved in Ailaira Green’s trial went through memory cleansing, but you remember, don’t you!!”
“I’m begging you, Vista, for the sake of our acquaintance—tell me! What exactly did Ailaira Green do to make even a god descend from their lofty status and issue such a clear Divine Oracle!”
During that trial, Sillirora had been praying in the chapel. Then, at the exact moment the trial concluded, she heard for the first time the murmuring of the Divine Mother in her mind: [Offer the Water Silver Witch to the Divine Kingdom].
At the time, Sillirora suppressed her excitement, looking around to confirm she alone had heard this Divine Oracle. She believed her devout faith had finally moved the deity to grant her a trial.
So the answer was obvious: as long as she offered the Water Silver Witch to the Divine Mother, she could bask in the Mother’s radiance!
She immediately began mobilizing her resources to investigate who the Water Silver Witch truly was, and just a few days ago, she obtained the name Ailaira Green.
Strangely, this time the target made no attempt to hide, even spreading her name ostentatiously.
By then, Sillirora was growing impatient, eager to complete this trial and catch a glimpse of the Divine Kingdom’s splendor.
Yet she retained some reason, not rushing to confront Ailaira. As the most senior Saintess, Sillirora understood well the unpredictability of the gods.
Even in the records of the Church of Life, never had a Divine Oracle targeted an individual so directly.
Her powerful jealousy did not cloud her mind; instead, it sparked her curiosity—why would a mere stripped apprentice Saintess attract such divine attention?
She thought back to that trial, but all details had been erased by the Chief Judge. Even with her status, Sillirora couldn’t uncover anything. Thus, she secretly plotted and finally targeted a weaker Judge.
Yet even under pressure, that Judge couldn’t recall anything, not even the name Ailaira.
With no answers, Sillirora risked stealing the Catechism Codex, which recorded every trial since the founding of the Church of Life, protected by the Divine Technique of generations of Popes—untouchable by any magic.
But just as she made her move, she ran into Vista, who was preparing to help Trinis Verlendel escape. Both thought the other was there to stop them; there was no probing, only an immediate fierce clash.
Though evenly matched in strength, Vista came out the clear victor. She delayed Sillirora’s theft of the Codex and used the chaos as an excuse to send Trinis away.
Even if the Royal Family questioned her afterward, she had a reasonable excuse.
In the end, it was only Sillirora who was subdued by the arriving Chief Judge and imprisoned. Vista, on the other hand, received yet another commendation, adding to her achievements.
Back in the present, Vista stared intently at Sillirora, magic gathering in her hand but never released.
She was not hesitating out of guilt over killing a fellow Saintess, but rather doubting whether acting now would draw even more attention.
The Holy Knight had clearly overheard Sillirora’s words, and Vista had no way to erase his memory. He had probably already relayed what he heard. Sillirora was, after all, a Saintess. If Vista were to erase her here completely, suspicion and scrutiny would shift to Ailaira.
Vista fell into a moment of inner turmoil, subconsciously wishing she could lean on Ailaira. But she fell silent—Ailaira had left her long ago.
“If only Brother were here…”
Vista recited in her heart, longing for the days when, as long as she followed Ailaira, obeying her every word like a puppet, any difficulty could be solved with ease. Unlike now, when she had to exhaust her mind searching for solutions.
Maybe Brother left because I was too useless…
At the very least, I must do what I can. I cannot let anyone trouble her again.
A long, tense silence settled over the cell like the calm before a storm. Sillirora, though blinded, still retained her seventh-rank sensitivity to magic. She keenly sensed the threat gathering in Vista’s attack—one that she, in her injured state, could not withstand.
Sillirora paused briefly, then sneered, “If you kill me here, even His Holiness the Pope, in secluded cultivation for so long, will be alerted, won’t he? What will become of that witch then?”
As the supreme leader of the Church of Life, one above even the ninth rank, the Pope had not left the Sanctum of Life for many years.
Only in times of holy war or grave crisis would he emerge to give orders; the rest of the time, the Chief Judge managed all internal affairs.
The death of a seasoned, codex-recorded Saintess would be more than enough to draw his attention.
“So, you’d better hold on.”
Vista poured Saint Light Healing onto Sillirora, and her wounds began to close at a visible rate. But before Sillirora could feel her body recovering, Vista hurled the “Holy Light Bomb” she had compressed to its limit.
“Boom!!”
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