Phil carried a bowl of meat soup into the study. On the floor of this hidden room lay a woman with silver hair just like hers.
However, this woman had a pair of black dragon horns on her head and wings sprouting from her back, with a long tail trailing behind her.
She slowly opened a pair of golden-red vertical pupils that glowed faintly and glanced toward Phil, who was kneeling quietly nearby.
Enya propped herself up and sat sideways on the floor.
She furrowed her brows, massaging the space between them with her fingers, and asked,
“How long have I been asleep?”
Phil handed over the bowl without hesitation and said casually, “You’ve been asleep for two days.”
“Two days…”
Enya took the bowl and sipped from it. The taste was quite good—unsurprising since she made it herself. Well, Phil was also a version of herself, after all.
Phil leaned closer, concern evident in her voice.
“Still feeling unwell?”
Enya pulled back slightly, squinting at this embodiment of herself before her. She took in Phil’s black-and-white long dress—the same style as before—and her elegant, homely appearance.
Her manners and demeanor perfectly matched this persona, and her facial features were softer than Enya’s own. Facing her was like facing the very essence of motherhood.
But this was a “lie.” No, rather, it was a hope.
The Goddess Church was founded a thousand years ago, and that goddess was discovered from an obscure ancient scripture unearthed somewhere. Or perhaps she was a deity fabricated entirely from lies…
People hoped that this goddess was a merciful and loving mother, with a gentle and beautiful appearance, a warm and soft heart, and the power to rescue them from the suffering of the mortal world.
This method of creating a god closely resembled Phil’s own birth.
Enya cleared her throat and turned her head away.
“Don’t act like a virtuous wife and good mother in front of me. It looks weird. I’m not interested in playing a game where you’re both mom and dad.”
“Hehehe.”
Phil laughed happily, then flopped onto Enya’s legs, transforming into a colorful-winged moth that merged into Enya’s body.
After receiving all the duty reports from the past two days, Enya pursed her lips.
The Viscount Prick’s rebellion was now common knowledge.
Baron Ganade had been executed on the spot, Viscount Prick was thrown into prison, and Ande, Viscount Kost’s son, had even brought his father’s head to the City Lord’s Mansion to beg for forgiveness.
News about Henna had also spread.
According to the City Lord’s Mansion, Baron Ganade had colluded with a foreign cult to plot against the lord, intending to plunge the people back into misery.
When the lord discovered this, he besieged the manor.
Baron Ganade resorted to using a Forbidden Object, which caused problems with the lord’s bloodline, but the situation was now stable.
Enya had the authority to modify the development of the Dream World, but each time she used “Backtrack Dream” or “Reconstruct Dream,” it took a huge toll on her mental strength.
She had already reconstructed and backtracked several times.
The first was concerning her daughter, Miss Rosily; the second was the confrontation with Tulius; the third was when Henna was stabbed by the Blood Curse Dagger.
If she tried again now, it might not just be a couple of days of lying down—it could mean a half-month of dormancy, which would be counterproductive.
In the past, she had forced the tomb keeper in that ruin to endlessly backtrack and repair the Dream World’s flawed timeline, which ultimately led to its collapse.
Even if she reconstructed the dream now, Henna wouldn’t revert to before she was stabbed, so it wasn’t very necessary. After Enya left, she revived some of the dead by attributing it to “accidents” and “coincidences.”
However, they were still injured to some extent—after such a great battle, it would be suspicious if everyone survived unscathed.
Stretching her body, Enya stood up and transformed into Madam Phil’s form, letting a mask cover her face and become the Black Nun.
Looking down at her outfit, Enya couldn’t help but mock herself.
“Am I playing Russian dolls?”
She stepped into Henna’s room and immediately spotted the petite girl lying on the large bed, and beside her sat another girl.
The one lying down was Henna, and the one sitting was Yelena.
Yelena held Henna’s small hands gently, quietly gazing at her peaceful, sleeping face.
Henna had absorbed those bloodlines and now appeared far from human, transformed into a true Blood Elf.
That exquisite face was sleeping, like a Sleeping Beauty—perhaps needing a kiss to awaken her?
Henna had been asleep for two days. Her body was fine, and her soul had no issues either, yet she wouldn’t wake up no matter what.
Enya cleverly created a fantasy to lure Yelena away, then sat beside Henna’s bed, pressing her finger to Henna’s forehead.
Press and hold—power on!
Henna’s closed eyelids fluttered slightly.
Enya quickly withdrew her hand, watching as Henna slowly opened her eyes, regained focus, noticed her, then jumped off the bed and away from her.
After all, Enya was now wearing the Black Nun’s form.
If it had been Phil, Henna would have been moved to tears and thanked Phil for staying by her bedside. Different people, different reactions.
Looking at Henna now, Enya found her adorable.
The female lord had lost her usual height and her graceful curves.
She no longer exuded the same imposing aura but had become a serious-faced, short, flat-chested loli Blood Princess.
Henna shouted in a delicate, slightly childish voice,
“Who are you?”
“Huh? What’s going on? My voice…”
She looked down and saw she was wearing a white little nightgown—a flat expanse from chest to feet.
This was a sight she’d only seen as a child, now forgotten by Henna.
“Ah, what happened to my body again?!”
Obviously, Henna hadn’t yet fully adjusted to these thin arms and legs, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. Her attention immediately went to the figure across the bed.
A woman in a black nun’s habit, but without a face. Under the veil flowed silver-purple long hair. Every part of this woman exuded an eerie aura.
“A demon’s aura?”
Henna instinctively sensed the demon energy from Enya—it was, more precisely, the aura of a Nightmare Demon. The mask was a disguise to cover Enya’s own presence.
Sensing a demon, Henna immediately summoned a Blood Blade, preparing to fight Enya to the death.
Enya, watching the serious little loli Blood Princess, was amused and curious to see how she intended to deal with her.
But Henna didn’t attack right away; instead, she asked,
“Are you the one behind helping me?”
“Yes.”
Enya nodded.
“You turned into this because of me?”
“Not entirely.”
Enya shook her head at the question. She had merely helped Henna erase the obsession converging within her bloodline.
If she had to use a metaphor, Enya was more like a blacksmith forging steel into a sword.
Henna still watched her cautiously. Although they could talk, it didn’t mean they were friends, so she had to stay alert.
Enya sat on the edge of the bed and patted the empty space beside her.
After a brief hesitation, Henna obediently sat down next to her.
Her elf ears twitched faintly beneath her crimson hair, showing some fear of this method.
Henna wanted to resist, but when Enya placed a hand on her shoulder, she felt all her strength drain away.
She shrank into the image of the little girl she now appeared to be, and her internal magic core became undetectable.
“Ugh, you… you…”
Sweat beaded on Henna’s forehead as she tightly pressed her legs together.
Her entire reliance was on her sixth-tier strength, but the Black Nun had just confiscated that—a terror Henna had never before encountered.
Seeing her trembling, Enya gently stroked Henna’s red hair but didn’t soften. Henna wasn’t truly a child; there was no need to scoop her up and soothe her quietly.
“Don’t get so worked up, Miss Henna~”
“Now we can talk properly, right?”
“I prefer kids who don’t talk much.”
“What do you want to say…”
Henna shivered, placing her small hands on her lap. She looked at her tiny feet that couldn’t reach the floor, aching inside.
She only remembered being stabbed by the Blood Blade wielded by Ganade, then a chaotic chorus of voices echoed in her ears—countless voices repeating “Revive the Blood Elf race,” countless hands grasping every part of her body.
No matter how hard Henna tried, she couldn’t control her body.
She saw her own subordinates attacking and destroying the city, and also the figure of this Black Nun, along with an excessively powerful dragon woman.
That dragon woman had killed her repeatedly, making her endure intense pain while her mind stayed clear, until finally seeing the dragon woman descend from the sky.
Henna thought she was going to die and closed her eyes to fall into eternal sleep.
Enya smiled and took a few steps to stand before Henna. She lifted the little Blood Princess’s chin, looking into her crimson vertical pupils.
“I sealed your bloodline.”
She had temporarily sealed Henna’s Blood Elf bloodline with the Bloodline Lock Elixir. Although her body couldn’t revert, the effect was still quite good.
“Sealed…”
Henna’s eyes trembled at the word.
“Yes, sealed. And I can also seal your magic, turning you into a weak, powerless little girl. I can seal your soul so you sleep forever, or seal your memories and rewrite your life story~”
Henna listened in horror, glaring at Enya, thinking, No wonder she carries a demon’s aura—she’s truly cruel!
Enya laughed cheerfully,
“Want me to lift the seal?”
Of course Henna did. Being completely controlled like this, unable to even manage her own memories, was unbearable.
“But if I lift it, you’ll go crazy again. Then I can only watch you destroy this city with my own eyes.”
Under the mask, Enya couldn’t help but grin wickedly.
“Oh, and you seem to care a lot about that woman called Phil, right? Maybe you’ll even kill her yourself. How pitiful and tragic.”
Threatening you with myself—are you scared?
“You!”
Henna jumped up, standing and glaring angrily at Enya.
She was very scared!
The little Blood Princess gritted her teeth, finally lowering her head and quietly sobbing with tears in her eyes.
“You… you can do whatever you want to me, but don’t hurt the people here. They’ve suffered enough. And don’t hurt Phil—she’s been through a lot too…”
Enya blinked, wondering if she had teased her too harshly. She only meant to play with the child, never intending to make the little Blood Princess cry!