Like an invisible tidal wave, it slammed fiercely into Emma’s slender back. She watched helplessly as that terrifying spiritual impact, powerful enough to shred a soul, struck her.
Ugh!
Emma’s body arched violently, as if struck by an invisible sledgehammer. The stubborn, sorrowful smile on her face shattered instantly, replaced by extreme agony.
Blood gushed from her mouth, nose, the corners of her eyes, and ears. She couldn’t even manage a complete scream. Her entire body went limp and fell backward like a kite with its string cut. The staff in her hand flew out, rolling onto the blood-stained grass.
“Em—ma—!”
Camilla’s heart-wrenching scream tore through the air. Stumbling forward, she caught Emma’s warm but rapidly cooling body before it hit the ground.
The girl in her arms was as pale as paper, her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible. The sight of her bleeding from seven orifices was horrifying. The light of life was rapidly fading from those brown eyes that always held timidity and curiosity. A cold, violent, all-consuming rage, like molten magma from the Abyss, instantly overwhelmed all of Camilla’s reason and pretense.
She gently laid Emma down on a relatively clean patch of ground. Lifting her head, her jet-black hair began to move as if stirred by a windless breeze. Her crimson pupils lit up with a golden glow in the gloom.
“Armor… on.”
She muttered to herself, her voice hoarse, pressing her left hand firmly against her chest.
From her satchel, a beautifully crafted piece of magi-tech armor—the breastplate—flew out as if summoned, attaching itself to her with perfect precision.
Next came the pauldrons, vambraces, greaves, and armored boots… Piece by piece, the components exuding powerful Magic Power flew from the satchel like living things, rapidly assembling and interlocking to form a complete set of full-body plate armor on Camilla, covering every inch of her skin.
Dark golden magic patterns flowed across the armor’s surface. Its overall style was ornate yet dangerous. It was the top-tier magi-tech armor Elena had promised to have custom-made for her, freshly completed and delivered. The moment the armor covered her completely, Camilla’s long-suppressed succubus aura—the Night Rose—finally erupted without restraint, like a ferocious beast breaking free from its cage!
Her brilliant golden vertical pupils burned with icy fury, locked dead ahead on the ugly monster slowly crawling out from the shadows—a magnified fusion of a centipede and a maggot—the Corroding Heart Worm.
Hidden and masked by the “Night Rose” armor’s Magic Power, her Succubus Form was perfectly concealed. To an outsider, she merely appeared to have donned a powerful set of magi-tech armor, her aura skyrocketing.
“You… deserve to die!”
Camilla’s voice, filtered through the faceplate, carried multiple echoes, as if emanating from the Abyss.
The Corroding Heart Worm seemed to sense a lethal threat from Camilla in this state. It let out a sharp, piercing shriek, its massive body writhing. Dozens of pairs of legs scrabbled at the ground as it opened its maw, lined with spiral teeth, gathering energy for its next wave of mental assault.
But Camilla gave it no chance.
Her figure vanished. The next second, she appeared directly above the worm’s head. A greatsword had somehow appeared in her hands.
“Die.”
A single, simple word. No flashy sword skills, no complex magic. Just pure speed and power. The sword light, like lightning tearing through the night, struck precisely at the center of the Corroding Heart Worm’s raised head.
Squelch—CRACK!
A sickening sound of rending flesh and chitin echoed.
The worm’s hard carapace was like paper before this Magic Sword. The blade cleaved through unimpeded, splitting the seven or eight-meter-long, ugly worm body cleanly in two from head to tail.
Dark purple, viscous blood and shattered innards erupted like a fountain, splattering all around.
The Corroding Heart Worm didn’t even manage a death scream. Its two halves twitched a few times before falling completely still, its crimson compound eyes rapidly dimming.
One strike. Instant kill.
Without even a glance at the insect corpse, Camilla’s figure flickered again, appearing before the Forbidden Alchemist, who was restrained by Rimuru and being besieged by Salina and Ludmila.
“Your turn.”
The icy voice from behind the faceplate made the alchemist’s remaining soul shudder.
“You can’t kill me!! I am—”
The Forbidden Alchemist’s words were cut short.
Salina’s Battle Axe and Ludmila’s Greatsword pierced the vital points of the Wooden-Headed Ape’s torso almost simultaneously from left and right.
“Too much talk!”
Salina spat out a mouthful of blood, her crimson eyes filled with disgust.
Ludmila silently twisted her sword hilt, thoroughly grinding away the last vestiges of life in the shell.
The ape’s body convulsed violently. The madness and unwillingness in its eyes swiftly extinguished. The dark purple patterns faded like a receding tide. Finally, this forcibly occupied shell hung its head limply, its life force completely extinguished.
The Forbidden Alchemist, this Executive of the Dark Magical Beast Legion who should have died in the maw of the Dark Chimera days ago, had finally met his true, utter end after clinging to life.
The battle was over.
The forest fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the crackle of flames consuming vines and the stench of blood and char hanging in the air.
Camilla stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. She exited her Succubus Form, then dismissed the armor. The components automatically flew back into her satchel. Turning, she hurried to Emma’s side, knelt down, and carefully lifted the girl, cradling her in her arms.
“Emma… Emma? Can you hear me?”
Camilla’s voice trembled with a fear she herself didn’t notice, as she gently patted Emma’s cold cheek.
No response.
Emma’s eyes were tightly shut, her long eyelashes still dotted with blood droplets. Her breathing was so faint it was almost imperceptible. Her face was pale, almost translucent.
Salina and Ludmila approached. Both bore injuries and the weariness of battle, but their gazes were fixed on the unconscious Emma with concern.
“How… is she?”
Salina, for once, dropped her haughty demeanor, worry evident in her blood-red eyes.
Ludmila silently crouched down. Her pure black eyes carefully examined Emma’s condition, her brow furrowing tighter and tighter.
“The situation… is bad.”
Camilla’s heart sank.
She understood Emma’s condition better than Ludmila did. The intensity of that earlier spiritual impact had fully crossed into the Eighth-tier realm.
Not just Emma—even if she herself had taken that hit unprepared, she likely would have been severely injured.
That Emma was still alive was a miracle. But her soul… was probably shattered.
For injuries like this, ordinary Healing Magic and Potions were useless. External intervention might even cause the already fragile soul to completely collapse.
The Academy’s healers might have a way, but it would take time. Emma might not last that long.
Even if her life could be saved, such severe trauma to the soul could very likely cause her to lose all her memories, become an idiot, or… never wake up again.
‘Never wake up…’
The words pierced Camilla’s heart like the coldest poison.
‘If she hadn’t been protecting me… If I hadn’t been careless… If I had sensed the danger sooner… Emma wouldn’t have…’
Intense self-blame and guilt flooded her like a tide.
‘I can’t even protect the people around me… What kind of transmigrator am I?’
Camilla held Emma’s cold body tightly, her nails digging deep into her own palms until they bled.
“Camilla…”
Salina looked at her like this, opening her mouth to speak, but not knowing what to say.
Ludmila reached out, placing a hand gently on Camilla’s slightly trembling shoulder.
“It’s not your fault.”
Her voice was still calm, but carried a clumsy attempt at comfort.
“We’ve sent a distress signal. The Teacher will be here soon.”
Camilla shook her head.
“What good will the Teacher do? The Academy’s conventional healing methods can’t save Emma now.”
The only being she could think of, capable of repairing this level of soul trauma in a short time… was that one entity.
The one she had always avoided, regarded as her last resort and a taboo… the Abyss Lord. But what would the cost be? Only she, perhaps, had a way. Lilith.
The “price” from last time was still unclear. What would she have to pay this time?
‘I don’t know the consequences…’
But looking at Emma’s increasingly faint breathing in her arms, Camilla closed her eyes. When she opened them again, only determination remained.
“Salina, Ludmila.”
Her voice was hoarse but exceptionally calm.
“Do me a favor. Move back, guard the perimeter. Don’t let anyone approach… including any Teachers who might arrive soon. Buy me some time.”
Salina and Ludmila exchanged a glance, both seeing confusion and concern in the other’s eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“Save her.”
Facing their questioning looks, Camilla answered briefly, offering no further explanation.
“Please.”
The two were silent for a few seconds. Finally, Salina gritted her teeth.
“Fine! I’ll trust you this once! But if you do something reckless and get yourself killed too, I won’t forgive you!”
Ludmila nodded, silently stood up, and walked with her greatsword to a high spot about ten meters away, beginning to keep watch.
Salina also hefted her battle axe and walked off in another direction.
Watching them move away, Camilla took a deep breath and gently laid Emma flat on the ground.
She raised her right hand, her fingers trembling slightly, and reached inside her clothing, touching the spot on her lower abdomen.
There, the Silver Crest was faintly warm, as if sensing its master’s intense will and emotional turmoil.
“By my true name, Camilla Veilrit, as the guide… By despair and supplication, as the offering… Traverse the endless barriers of the Abyss, answer this urgent call…”
Her voice was low, but each word carried the force of a point of no return.
“Lilith!”
The moment the name left her lips, the Silver Crest on her abdomen erupted with a blinding light.