Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

The 214th Primordial Goddess?

The gunfire tore through the hanging curtains, not out of bounds, but from precise calculation.

The heavy curtains fell heavily, completely blocking out the last ray of light.

The light vanished. At least for Valentia, who needed mirrors to leap and teleport, this moment of darkness was a fatal delay.

Just as the window frame was blocked, Valentia's movement, which was gathering from the pool of blood and attempting to disappear into the shadows of the fabric folds, abruptly halted! Her figure became less stable in the dim light, like a projection with a poor signal, showing momentary static and distortion.

—This precise timing, down to the millisecond, is no coincidence. This blonde girl of Sequence Eight saw through her movements and even predicted her landing point.

Charlotte didn't hesitate for a moment, and the second shot rang out immediately after the first.

The bullet, imbued with a chilling will, struck precisely at the faint outline of the entity that the former had been forced to reveal.

puff!

The bullet pierced the skull, drawing out a gush of blood, and a suppressed growl, filled with pain and rage, echoed in the dim space.

"You?" Valentia's voice lost its effortless languidness. She was forced off the mirror and staggered onto the ground covered with broken glass, revealing her complete, slightly disheveled figure.

The charred, bent hair revealed the pale skin on his forehead and the wound that was rapidly healing and rebuilding its structure.

The sixth-order vampires possess the ability to reconstruct their bodies, similar to a 'nest'. Physical damage can only pose a real threat to them if it accumulates multiple times or is pushed beyond its limits.

“It seems I underestimated the watchdogs of the tribunal, especially you, the seemingly most harmless little dog.” Valentia’s gaze was icy. “Your eyes can see things far more interesting than the sequence you’re in.”

Charlotte did not reply, but continued to steadily move the muzzle of her gun, her emerald eyes fixed on the beautiful woman.

Her breathing was steady, and her elbow gripping the gun showed no sign of trembling, as if those two incredibly accurate shots were merely a matter of course. This unusual calmness seemed particularly abrupt and dangerous amidst the chaos and the surrounding threat of a formidable enemy.

"Hmph!" Valentia snorted coldly, forcibly suppressing the pain in her head and the corrosive sensation from the special bullet that hindered healing. She glanced at Melvis, who was still slumped beside the display case, his red eyes fixed on her, and then looked at Zelena, who was struggling to stand up.

Her patience was wearing thin. Felton's continued absence meant he wouldn't get involved in the incident. If she wanted to take Scarlet Kiss and Melvis away, she had to deal with the two in front of her as soon as possible.

Click.

The gas wall lamp at the end of the corridor suddenly shattered, and the only stable light source disappeared, leaving no trace of the beautiful woman in the remaining vision.

"This is dark magic—"

Before Ms. Z's reminder could even register, the girl's hearing was simultaneously shut off, leaving her as a blind and deaf person.

A damp mist swept over her limbs, like an acidic liquid, corroding her clothes and seeping into her skin, causing waves of burning pain.

Charlotte indeed knew little about the extraordinary abilities of vampires, and due to the information gap, she was unable to organize a resistance. However, the influence on her mind, whether through magic or delirium, had always had little effect on her.

With just a blink of her eyes, she regained her sight and hearing; however, as Zelena had said, Valentia had indeed vanished into the darkness.

But she couldn't let go of the several witnesses, leaving behind a group of people who harbored resentment or sought revenge.

The inability to detect the specific shape means it's difficult to inflict damage with bullets, but the total volume of the room remains unchanged. In other words, this rising fog is the embodiment of the opponent.

trouble.

Given his support-oriented abilities in the eighth position, even if he knew this information, he would be unable to find a way to break the deadlock.

Ms. Z's injuries were too severe; she could barely breathe, let alone receive any assistance, and she couldn't fully trust Melvis.

Given the critical situation of the entity, is it still necessary to hide? The answer is self-evident.

The souls of the Arbitrator, the Nest, and the Priest—three puppets separated by the abyss—crossed the sea and returned to her. At this moment, with immense power and boundless spirituality, she lacked nothing.

A sharp whistling sound rang out again, and countless fine, hair-like blood needles, as if propelled by an invisible crossbow, poured down from all directions.

In her field of vision, the scarlet curse representing death was like a flood bursting its banks. With her five senses blocked, Charlotte should have been powerless and drowned in the tide.

Zelena's pupils contracted sharply. She tried to gather her last bit of strength to build a barrier, but in vain, she aggravated her wounds and coughed up blood. Melvis's fingertips trembled slightly, as if hesitating whether to intervene in this duel she had already decided to observe.

However, unexpectedly, the girl who had been searching for light slowly closed her eyes. She stopped looking and resigned herself to her impending death.

This is not giving up, but rather Charlotte has found a way to escape unscathed without revealing anything special.

The threads of fate become visible before our eyes; they are not meant to be discovered or manipulated, but the 'balancer' has the ability to see and control them.

Those faint signs of good fortune, which were originally like candles flickering in the wind, were about to be extinguished in the torrent of misfortune.

She concentrated all her will and, in an almost domineering manner, forcibly separated and gathered the fate of survival from Zelena, Melvis, and even from herself!

This is not a blessing, but rather a gamble that borders on plunder and a desperate gamble.

The blood needles that were supposed to pierce their vital organs suddenly took an extremely strange deflection within a few feet of Charlotte's body.

Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle...

Blood needles pierced the walls, the floor, and broken furniture with a series of muffled thuds. It was as if an invisible force field existed around the girl—the deadly blood needles either collided and deflected each other, or narrowly grazed her clothes and hair. Several blood needles that were aimed at her face were even blocked by pieces of ceiling that suddenly collapsed.

But everything has its price; blood seeped from Charlotte's nose, and her emerald eyes gradually lost their luster—a mental backlash from overdoing the magic.

Valentia witnessed this scene, her eyes growing even colder. This rare and troublesome method strengthened her resolve to eliminate the former immediately.

Another barrage of blood arrows pierced the air, sealing off all avenues for dodging. This time, Charlotte had nowhere to escape, yet a faint smile played on her pale lips.

She certainly did not suffer the backlash merely for surviving, but because she single-handedly altered the 'probability' of the entire environment and even the entire event.

Yes, if we just hold on a little longer, the mechanical heart and the cultivators will rush to our aid and save us from this crisis. But why not keep dreaming?

The seeds of cause and effect were sown long ago. Back then, when Watson visited the church at noon, Felton and Silva argued about whether to deal with the murderer in the case of the missing girl, and the conflict arose over whether to offend Count Bathory for this matter.

Now, the goddess's sword happens to be making its way here to assess whether she meets the standards. She has not gone far, but has been handling assignments near and far, wielding her sword to carry out just punishments.

Everything in the world has a cause and an effect, so the possibility that the latter, feeling the event had occurred, would personally rush over is not zero.

With a flick of her finger, Charlotte had already plucked the thread of fate that 'Silva just happened to be patrolling here at this moment,' forcibly raising its possibility from almost non-existent to 'inevitable.'

Yes, why expose herself if she can escape unscathed? Fate will send someone else to rescue her just in time.

Zheng!

As soon as the thought was interrupted, a clear and melodious sword cry, seemingly capable of cleansing the soul, pierced through the chaos and bloodshed of the arbitration court without warning, clearly reaching everyone's ears.

This sword's cry was not a physical sound, but rather a declaration that acted directly on the spiritual level! It carried unparalleled sharpness, absolute order, and a majesty that swept away everything.

The foul spiritual energy permeating the entire space was instantly suppressed, purified, and dispelled, like snow meeting the blazing sun.

"If a greedy hand commits a crime, then its hands and feet shall be cut off."

A clear, cold female voice rang out, carrying an unquestionable sense of judgment.

Her silver hair cascaded down like a waterfall, and her tall, pine-like figure pushed aside the cold wind, coming into everyone's view.

That is the sword of the goddess, Sylva.

At this moment, she held the crimson sword, silently standing in front of the girl, like a knight guarding his lord, just as she had made that vow before the goddess statue.

His heart is as clear as a mirror, his sword cuts through injustice, and he only wishes to protect the goddess and break his vow for her.

Chapter 215 Aftermath

“Silva?!”

Overwhelmed with shock and anger, Valentia's previous composure vanished, replaced by a look of apprehension.

The appearance of the former was completely beyond her expectations, and the overwhelming sword light made her feel fear and burning pain from her vampire instincts.

Admittedly, the goddess's swordsman was merely a Sequence Five Extraordinary Being, not having crossed the ladder to advance in the level of life. However, the crimson sword, as a sealing object, was too perfectly suited to this cold and solemn beauty, enabling her to transcend the differences and unleash power close to that of a demigod.

Moreover, as a Sequence Six, even if he discarded all external things, he would never be a match for the person in front of him.

Hearing that familiar voice, though it was cold and indifferent, made Ms. Z feel exceptionally at ease.

In that case, the two girls should also be safe and sound.

After a dramatic emotional rollercoaster and only a brief moment of relaxation, Zelena's breath completely withered and became barely perceptible.

Silva's gaze swept over the heavily injured Zelena and the fallen Melvis, finally landing on Charlotte, who stood with a gun in her hand, a rare hint of anger flashing in her bright eyes.

Just now, while she was investigating the exiled criminal, she felt a sudden pang of unease. As the world unfolded, things changed, as if destiny itself was pulling her, bringing her precisely to the doorstep of the arbitration court.

This strangeness could not be ignored. Seeing the injuries on everyone and passing by the corpse of the deceased, a surge of grief and indignation overwhelmed her words, and she told the beautiful woman to grip the hilt of her sword tightly.

"Charlotte, step back, take care of yourself and Zelena." The crimson straight sword slowly rose, its tip pointing directly at Valentia herself.

Without a smile, she simply lowered her arm and bent her wrist, combining her waist and body, and in a moment of overlapping internal and external forces, she raised the sword and slashed down with force.

In the darkness, a streak of red light flashed by, and after a while, the sudden imbalance of wind pressure created a series of buzzing sounds.

Looking at it from the side, the entire wall and pillars of the arbitration tribunal were split in two by the sword light, and the high-hanging dome fell down along the smooth section and collapsed with a crash.

"Uh."

Unable to maintain her elegance any longer, Valentia didn't even bother to look at the direction of the attack. Her graceful figure transformed into a thick cloud of black mist just before the crimson sword struck down.

This was not a counterattack, but rather her fastest, and most energy-consuming, escape method.

The black mist ignored physical obstacles, carrying Melvis and surging towards the small puddles and shards of glass on the ground that had not yet been affected by the slashes—she could escape as long as there was a glimmer of light.

However, halfway through, the sword wind forced open the black mist, and thorns and roses sprouted from the gaps it created. They were like greedy plants, devouring the mist as well.

A muffled groan of pain echoed from the sky, and a few wisps of mist that failed to escape in time emitted a burning, hoarse sound in the darkness until they were completely extinguished.

Knowing the former's intention to escape, a powerful spiritual force immediately enveloped the entire parish, but for a moment failed to capture any remaining traces, including that dangerous sealed artifact.

Was it a pre-planned spatial transfer, or did it utilize other extraordinary objects?

"Humph."

With a resentful, cold voice, Valentia announced the outcome of the sword strike. Choosing to sacrifice most of her life force, she forcibly pulled Melvis away.

The arc of light slowly receded, leaving the hall in a state of chaos. Only the sunlight streaming through the broken dome illuminated the ruins and congealed blood.

A stifling, deathly silence returned.

Sylva sheathed his sword, his gaze sweeping over the broken walls and congealed pools of blood before finally settling on Zelena.

The latter's breath was as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, his thin trench coat was almost soaked with blood, and his wounds were still slowly oozing blood from his limp arms.

“Zelena.” Silva’s voice remained cold, but her silver-gray eyes, which were usually as still as a frozen lake, now held a hint of urgency that was hard to detect.

Perhaps it was a murmur, perhaps a whisper, but the black-haired beauty struggled to lift her eyelids, her gaze unfocused yet determined to concentrate on the man's face.

Her smile was incredibly bitter. "Well, it's good that you're here. Melvis, she..."

“Valentia took her away, but she also paid a heavy price.” Silva confirmed succinctly, then knelt down on one knee and deftly examined Ms. Z’s injuries.

She tore open the blood-soaked fabric, revealing a deep, bone-revealing wound on her shoulder and neck, its edges tinged with an eerie rust color, the flesh slowly and stubbornly rotting away. This was the curse left by the Crimson Kiss, a mixture of the power of high-ranking vampires, preventing the extraordinary from healing itself and continuously eroding its life force.

The swordswoman frowned slightly. She quickly took out a small bottle from her waist, poured out a few drops of a liquid that exuded the scent of moonlight, and sprinkled it on the edge of her wound.

The moment the liquid came into contact with the rotting flesh, it made a slight sizzling sound and emitted a few wisps of gray smoke. The spread of the rust-colored substance seemed to be contained somewhat, but the wound itself showed no obvious signs of improvement. This could only temporarily delay the spread, not eradicate it.

Just now, Zelena was able to maintain consciousness solely because of her worry for the two of them.

"Hang in there, at least the people you care about are not dead yet."

With one hand pressed against the wound, a soft yet resilient glow emanated from the palm. While the ability to guard was not good at healing, it could sweep away the pollution and give the person before him a sense of clarity.

After doing all this, Silva turned her gaze to Charlotte, who was standing quietly to the side.

The blonde girl was unusually quiet at this moment. She had already put away her revolver and was wiping the bloodstains on her face with the back of her hand.

Her emerald eyes were lowered, her long eyelashes concealing her emotions, leaving only the vulnerability of someone who had survived a calamity and a perfectly measured bewilderment. Her clothes were also torn in several places, stained with dust and blood, making her look equally disheveled.

"You remained very calm."

Silva's voice was devoid of much emotion, sounding more like he was stating an objective fact.

"Just now, my intuition compelled me to return to the arbitration court. That feeling of being so close yet so far was overwhelming. Charlotte, what else happened here besides Valentia and Zelena? What did you do?"

"Ms. Sylva, as you can see, we have been subjected to a premeditated attack. Valentia of the Twilight Eye is targeting the Arbitration Court's sealed artifact, 'Crimson Kiss,' and Melvis. There is a suspected traitor within our ranks."

Charlotte spoke in a straightforward tone, concisely recounting Zelena's previous judgment and what she had seen and heard: "Nia disappeared at the dock, Sander sacrificed himself, and Ms. Z was seriously injured while protecting her companions and the sealed artifact."

"All I can do is hold on in this desperate situation until the rescue forces arrive."

She didn't mention how she saw the attack's trajectory through the sense-blocking spell, nor did she explain the near-miraculous dodge, nor did she touch on the topic of fate's twists and turns. Instead, she attributed everything to the survival instinct and Sylva's timely arrival.

The beautiful woman listened in silence, her silver-grey eyes lingering on Charlotte's face for a long time.

When she arrived at the summons and stood before the other party, she felt a strange yet familiar sensation, as if on that day, she had knelt and sworn an oath under the goddess statue, promising to wield the sword only for her and for justice.

"How are you?" she asked, her tone seemingly a routine inquiry.

"My spirituality is somewhat depleted, and I'm experiencing a mental backlash, but it's not a big problem, and I can still move around."

That was a straightforward answer.