absurd deduction game.

Those who slip through the net should be caught in one fell swoop.

When Qu Xianqing thrust out her blood-stained sword, it carried a ruthlessness that seeped into her very bones. She made no probing moves, no feints; her first strike went straight for the throat of the maid guarding the bedside. The angle was tricky, and she was aiming for a fatal blow.

Clearly, she couldn't be bothered to waste time on people who weren't important to her.

The maid's reaction was remarkably swift.

Instead of panicking and retreating, she used an almost instinctive, strange flexibility that was inconsistent with her simple appearance to suddenly bend her entire head and upper body backward, almost folding them in half!

The blood-stained sword grazed her chin, leaving a shallow bloodstain.

At the same time, the shadows on the hem of her simple maid's dress suddenly became as thick as ink, as if something alive was wriggling inside.

Using the momentum of her backward fall, she pushed off with both feet and floated back several feet like a gliding jellyfish. The shadow beneath her skirt trailed a distorted path on the floor, exuding a faint, unsettling aura of chaos.

Qu Xianqing's eyes turned slightly cold as he took a step forward, followed closely by his second sword strike.

The maid's figure blurred at that moment, as if she had briefly merged with the surrounding light and shadow. She spun around, barely managing to stay close to the sweeping sword blade. The blood-stained sword almost tore through her dress, and the force of the wind it generated snapped off a few strands of hair at her temples. A hint of fear appeared in her eyes.

As she spun, her pale fingers suddenly grabbed at Qu Xianqing's wrist, her fingertips shrouded in a gray, life-eating shadow.

Qu Xianqing lowered his wrist, changing the horizontal sweep into a downward chop.

This time, the maid was not able to dodge completely.

The sword sliced ​​across her shoulder, cutting through her clothes and flesh, revealing bone. Dark red, slightly viscous blood spurted out, but instead of seeping into the ground immediately, it twitched slightly as if it were alive.

The maid groaned, staggered backward, and crashed into the wall behind her. Her face was pale, and the blood flowing from her wounds seemed to be a darker color than that of an ordinary person.

She leaned against the wall, breathing slightly. Her once submissive eyes lifted to look at Qu Xianqing, now devoid of any timidity, replaced by a cold, inhuman calm.

The shadows around her grew thicker, the air became cold and stagnant, and a blasphemous whisper seemed to linger in her ear.

Qu Xianqing did not give her a chance to breathe or become further alienated.

She swayed slightly, instantly closing the distance, and thrust the blood-red sword straight towards the maid's heart, so fast that only a dark red afterimage could be seen.

The maid's pupils contracted sharply, and the shadows on her body surged wildly towards her chest in an attempt to resist. At the same time, she tried her best to twist to the side, but this time, the crimson light pierced through the shadows without any hindrance, making a dull thud as if a sharp weapon had entered flesh.

The blood-stained sword pierced the maid's left chest precisely, about an inch away from her heart—the limit she could manage to twist and avoid at the last moment.

But this was enough to instantly render her mostly incapable of fighting.

The excruciating pain made her body stiffen abruptly, the lingering shadow dissipated, and a hoarse, leaking sound came from her throat.

Qu Xianqing twisted his wrist, causing the sword to writhe half a circle inside the wound, before suddenly pulling it out.

The maid slid down the wall and sat on the floor, a large amount of blood gushing from the wounds on her chest and back, quickly staining her dress and the floor beneath her.

She clutched her wound, her fingers trembling from blood loss and excruciating pain. Her face quickly turned ashen, and her breathing became rapid and weak; she was clearly on the verge of death.

Qu Xianqing stepped forward, his black boots stopping in front of her.

Then he lifted his foot and gently stepped on the maid's lower abdomen, applying slight pressure to suppress any last possible struggle.

She lowered her eyes, looking at the face of an "ordinary maid" contorted in pain. With a slight flick of her wrist, the tip of the blood sword gently touched the maid's cheek, near her ear, and then flicked it upwards.

"hiss……"

A soft tearing sound rang out.

A thin, almost transparent human skin mask, its edges perfectly blending with the skin, was lifted by a corner with the tip of a sword.

As the sword tip moved, the mask was slowly peeled off, revealing another face underneath.

This face is about forty years old, with ordinary features, but even now, pale and distorted due to near death, one can still see a unique temperament formed by long-term high position and meticulous management of affairs—rigorous, restrained, and even with a touch of rigid elegance.

“Masha.” Qu Xianqing looked at this face, her expression showing no surprise, only an icy calm.

“You disappeared as soon as the battle began,” she said, her voice low but clear enough to reach Martha’s ears. “You were here after all.”

Martha coughed up a mouthful of blood, and her breathing became increasingly difficult.

She struggled to lift her head and look at Qu Xianqing. Her eyes were unfocused, yet tightly focused, filled with an extremely strong obsession that almost overwhelmed the pain of impending death.

“Master…” Her voice was hoarse and broken, almost squeezed out of her trachea, each word laced with blood and foam, “Madame Fernell…she…is really gone…”

Martha asked with great difficulty, but her eyes were fixed on Qu Xianqing, filled with a mixture of fanatical loyalty and the last glimmer of hope.

Qu Xianqing looked at her, and without any hesitation, gave a cold answer: "Dead."

These two words are like the final death knell.

Martha's body convulsed violently, and the expression on her face instantly shattered.

She shook her head, a hoarse, incoherent wheezing sound emanating from her throat. Her voice suddenly rose, filled with a deliberately amplified, heart-wrenching despair: "No! Impossible! You're lying! Master couldn't be dead, couldn't be dead! You...you all..."

Qu Xianqing stepped on her foot, increasing the pressure slightly, interrupting the noisy performance.

She looked down at Martha's eyes, which were filled with despair, and scoffed, "Stop acting."

Martha's exaggerated pain and madness froze for a moment, a barely concealed look of astonishment that her plan had been seen through flashed quickly in the depths of her eyes, before being completely replaced by dejection and emptiness.

She glanced at Qu Xianqing one last time, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately no sound came out. Her head lolled to the side, and she breathed her last.

Qu Xianqing withdrew his foot, ignoring Martha's corpse on the ground.

Her gaze shifted to the bedside.

Sarah had already thrown back the covers and was sitting half-upright on the edge of the bed.

Her face was so pale it was almost transparent, her lips were bloodless, and her hands were tightly gripping the sheets, her knuckles white.

She looked at Martha's corpse, then at Qu Xianqing who stood with his sword sheathed, her eyes filled with lingering fear and a cautious, surviving hope.

“It was…it was Mr. Yu Xing…who sent you, wasn’t it?” Sarah’s voice trembled, with a weak sob in it. “You killed that maid…Am I…free now? That demon, Funel…she really is…” She asked hesitantly, as if afraid of getting a negative answer. Tears welled up in her eyes, making her look heartbreaking.

Qu Xianqing did not answer immediately; she simply looked at Sarah with a calm and indifferent gaze.

Sarah seemed encouraged by the silence, or perhaps her long-suppressed emotions had finally found an outlet.

She started by sobbing softly, then the sobbing turned into suppressed laughter, which grew louder and more out of control, eventually becoming a near-neurotic outburst of both crying and laughing.

She struggled to get out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor. She stumbled to the window, grabbed the window frame, and stared at the eerie scene outside, where the sunlight was blinding and the plants were growing wildly.

“Brother…” she choked out the window, her voice filled with sorrow and a twisted sense of relief, “Did you see? She’s dead… Fernal is dead… Your revenge has been achieved…”

She turned around abruptly, leaning against the windowsill, her face streaked with tears, but she forced a relieved, tearful smile onto her lips.

Sunlight shone from behind her, casting a hazy glow on her slender figure.

She looked at Qu Xianqing with bright eyes, filled with an eager longing for a new life, her voice trembling slightly with excitement.

"Where are we going now—?"

The words stopped abruptly.

Because a blood-red blade had pierced her chest the instant she smiled.

Fast, ruthless, and accurate.

Without warning, without hesitation.

Sarah's expression froze instantly, her face shattering like fragile ice.

She slowly lowered her head, looking at the sword with its glaring crimson color protruding from her chest. Her eyes were first filled with confusion, then with extreme astonishment and incomprehension.

Only then did she belatedly realize that blood was gushing from her wound and the corner of her mouth.

"Why...why..." She opened her mouth, her voice weak and barely audible, each word laced with blood, "Yu Xing...clearly promised..."

“It was indeed Yu Xing who sent me.” Qu Xianqing stood in front of her, speaking casually as if he were telling her what to eat today. “He said you are the final piece of the story.”

Sarah's body trembled violently, and her eyes, which had been filled with astonishment and confusion, suddenly burst forth with an astonishing light mixed with sorrow, grief, and resentment under the stimulation of the excruciating pain.

She looked down at the sword blade embedded in her chest, and then, surprisingly, she raised both hands and gripped the sword that had pierced her chest tightly!

The sharp blade instantly severed her palm, and warm blood gushed out along the blood groove on the blade, mixing with the blood gushing from her chest and dripping onto the ground in a horrifying sight.

She seemed oblivious to the pain, gripping tightly as she raised her face to look at Qu Xianqing, who was so close to her. Tears streamed down her face like broken beads, mingling with blood.

"Why..." Her voice trembled with pain and agitation, yet carried a accusatory shrillness, "Mr. Yu Xing clearly promised me! He promised... that he would rescue me after Funer died! He said it himself!"

Her eyes were filled with the pain and confusion of betrayal: "I am a witness! I am the most direct witness to the whole thing! To find out the truth... I endured for so long, playing that shameful 'mistress,' I was imprisoned, I was humiliated... I finally waited for this day! Fernal is dead, my brother's revenge has been achieved... I... I should have been able to leave this hellhole, I should have been able to... to have a new life!"

Her voice rose higher and higher, filled with a hysterical despair: "Why? Why did you kill me?"

After asking the question, she suddenly realized, "Because...because I was in that room, you know? I saw those...those tentacles on Mr. Yu Xing's body? I saw the...that spiritual connection between him and those branches?"

As if she had grasped the "truth," her eyes turned terrified and desperate. She shook her head violently, blood splattering with each movement: "No... I won't say it! I swear! I won't tell anyone! Please, please let me go, I have nothing left... I just want to leave here alive... Please..."

The desperate questioning and the terrified pleading were enough to move anyone who was unaware of the situation, and even make them doubt themselves.

However, Qu Xianqing simply watched quietly, without even a change in expression.

Sarah's pleas gradually weakened, turning into intermittent sobs tinged with blood.

Qu Xianqing tilted his head slightly and spoke:
"Your portrayal of 'human' is... truly convincing."

“...Fennell”.

"Sarah"...or rather, the one whose name was called, Fennell, all her expressions, all her grief, all her fear and pleading, in that instant, were like the first deep crack appearing on the surface of a frozen lake. Her hand gripping the sword stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment.

The carefully crafted despair and terror that belonged to "Sarah" in her eyes receded like the tide, replaced by a cold, utterly exposed emptiness, and a trace of disbelief.

She did not immediately refute, nor did she continue to pretend.

At the moment when the other party so confidently called out her real name, any extra performance seemed ridiculous.

“…Heh.” After a long while, she let out an extremely faint laugh, tinged with the metallic tang of blood.

Sarah raised her head, her face still streaked with tears and blood, but her eyes had changed.

“You know who I am,” she said, her voice hoarse, but no longer feigning weakness; instead, it carried a probing tone. “Then Yu Xing… he should know too, right?”

"When did you first find out?"

Thinking of a certain possibility, her face contorted with a grotesque, worm-like expression: "Perhaps, it was when I first saw Sarah last night?"

Qu Xianqing did not answer immediately, but glanced sideways, as if recalling something.

The images and sounds from that time vividly surfaced in her mind.

……

Blood and screams assaulted her as Yu Xing passed by amidst the background noise of the battle between the cultists and priests.

His voice wasn't loud, but it was clearly audible amidst the noisy background: "After things are over up there, and after Fernal is confirmed dead, go find Sarah who's trapped in the guest room."

Qu Xianqing turned to look at him: "Why?"

Yu Xing didn't stop walking. Her gaze swept over the slowly opening starry eyes on the stair railing, and she chuckled, "Fennell didn't hesitate to kill even her nominal husband, Anthony, but she spared Sarah, a 'mistress.' This is not normal at all, not to mention that she clearly knew Sarah was there for revenge."

"So, Sarah is still alive and well to this day..."

"There must be a reason why she must live." (End of Chapter)