The night rain gradually thinned, as if mourning the end of life.
“Everything is done. The main body has succeeded… it’s all over…”
The White-robed Priestess had no strength left.
She collapsed in the mud pit, her voice so faint it was nearly drowned by the sound of rain.
“Soon, the Orcs will trample that ridiculous defensive line and surge into the heart of Valoran.”
She spoke haltingly, yet a twisted satisfaction hung on her face.
“After that, the other Kingdoms of Man… heehee, the entire Continent will be plunged into a feast of war and madness…”
In fact, while Wendy was rushing to make cement, he had already anticipated that with only a single defensive line and ten thousand Soldiers, facing the Orc army would inevitably come at a heavy cost.
So, he had specially modified the Alchemical Explosives into Catapult Bombs, hoping to minimize casualties as much as possible.
But now, the Warehouse that held all their hopes was gone.
However, upon hearing this, Astreia only lazily lifted her eyelids and glanced indifferently at the distant firelight.
“What does that have to do with me?”
She bent down, her dark purple demonic eyes reflecting the dying face of the White-robed Priestess, the corners of her mouth curling into a naive yet cruel smile.
“Soldiers sacrificing themselves for the King is their inborn mission, isn’t it?”
“Or rather, this is even better…”
Astreia reached out her slender finger and gently tapped her lips, now wet from the rain, as if savoring something.
“Once those ants throw the Continent into utter chaos, I will descend in the guise of a Savior and take everything into my grasp. Wouldn’t that be… even more interesting?”
“Hehehe…”
The White-robed Priestess looked at the newly minted witch before her and let out a weak laugh. “You don’t understand…”
Her eyes half-closed, pupils beginning to blur, she spoke slowly: “The World will be purified once more. Through destruction comes rebirth. Those who survive will rebuild new hope upon the wasteland, and provide the Gods with even more loyal Faith…”
Hearing these enigmatic words, Astreia felt a chill in her heart, but she didn’t interrupt, wanting to see what this woman was really up to.
Yet the White-robed Priestess seemed to sink into memories.
“I was once an Elf, living by the Sea, but I was very afraid of the Sea. My Father wanted me to overcome my fear, so he took me to the shore every day. One day, we were walking on the beach and saw a little one picking up shells in the distance. My Father wanted to bet with me, to guess what color the next shell that child would pick up would be. The loser had to go into the Sea.”
“Of course, I didn’t want to lose, but before I could react, my Father quickly said the next shell would be orange. Sure enough, that shell was only ten steps from the child—she would definitely pick up the orange shell my Father saw. Was I going to lose just because I was a step slower?”
“No. I told my Father it was blue, then picked up a blue shell at my feet, and threw it right at the child’s feet. I called out: ‘Hey! I found a really pretty shell, it’s for you!'”
“The child picked up the shell I threw, smiling. It was blue. I won. So my Father went into the Sea, and after that, his body became the most sought-after good on our Street…”
“???”
Even Astreia, who had now fallen into darkness as a witch, felt her mind was about to fry after hearing this bizarre story.
“What are you trying to say? Your Father’s body is out of stock now?”
The White-robed Priestess shook her head, revealing an inscrutable smile: “The reason you lose is not because you are weak, but because… you, like me, are a fool who never listened to her Father and refuses to accept fate…”
With that, her figure dissolved into a swirl of purple smoke, gradually dispersing, leaving behind only a faint phrase that drifted away in the rain.
“Enjoy the present while you can, you have no future~”
“…”
Astreia slowly stood up, gripping the battle spear in her hand.
Gods?
Faith?
This woman seemed to be hiding some other secret.
But, it didn’t matter anymore.
In this World, there is nothing that absolute power cannot crush.
As this thought crossed her mind, her gaze unconsciously fell upon the unconscious figure not far away.
The very source that had brought her to the brink of agony, and then granted her a supreme new life.
On Astreia’s bewitchingly beautiful face, a trace of morbid obsession slowly emerged.
Conquering the World was interesting, but perhaps… conquering this Prince would be even more fun.
“Hiss… my head hurts…”
Wendy’s muddled mind finally regained a sliver of clarity.
He looked around in a daze.
The ground was torn open by some terrifying force, forming a huge pit.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and scorched earth.
Where am I?
Wasn’t I just crawling out from under that crazy Priestess’s skirt?
Why does it feel like I got tag-teamed by Godzilla and Ghidorah?
Finally, Wendy’s gaze landed on the dazzling figure slowly walking toward him.
Familiar, yet strange.
In the moonlight, the hideous dark purple armor on Astreia’s body slowly faded and melted away as if it had a life of its own, dissolving into streams of light that were absorbed into her body.
But on her honey-colored skin, there now remained large, bewitching crimson markings—like the flowers of hell blooming from her neck down to her abdomen.
Her platinum hair whipped wildly in the night wind, and her eyes, once as clear as jade, now held only unfathomable darkness, with two clusters of purple flames burning deep within her pupils.
Wait a minute!
That skin!
Those markings!
That hair!
Isn’t this… a full-blown corruption?!
In the plot, Astreia’s fall wasn’t supposed to happen until after she drew the ‘Holy Sword’!
What’s going on?
I barely made my escape, and the story’s already fast-forwarded to this part?
Did the World Correction Force get injected with steroids or something?!
“Wendy.”
The witch walked up to the Prince and stopped.
Those purple eyes stared unblinkingly, as if admiring a perfect treasure that belonged solely to her.
The desire in her gaze was almost tangible, as if she wanted to bind the Prince completely.
Wendy felt a chill run down his spine, every hair standing on end.
He instinctively wanted to retreat.
This lady’s current state looks even scarier than that White-robed Priestess just now!
But in the next moment, Astreia bent down.
Under Wendy’s utterly stunned gaze, she extended her dainty tongue and, inch by inch, carefully covered the spot on the Prince’s cheek that the White-robed Priestess had licked before.
Her actions were forceful, domineering, filled with an unquestionable sense of possession.
Wendy’s mind completely crashed in that instant.
Wet, warm…
With a faint taste of blood and a girl’s unique fragrance, it overwhelmed all his senses.
After finishing, the witch finally raised her head in satisfaction, gazing deeply into the Prince’s eyes, a sickly and content smile on her face.
“Now…”
“You belong to me alone.”
bad writing. rushed.