Nobody knows how to be a villain better than me.

Of course, the so-called return to the Lord's embrace is just a beautiful wish of mankind.

Generally speaking, due to the separation of the divine era, Heaven and the Kingdom of Gods, as well as Hell and the Underworld, have essentially been closed.

Now, the gods are asleep, and the human souls, in theory, will be taken over by Gaia and Alaya, and will enter the planet's great source to circulate energy. After the recorded memories are worn away, they will be put back into the earth for reuse, which is the so-called "reincarnation".

Special individuals, such as brilliant figures from various eras, will be registered in the Book of Fate and become valuable humanoid reserve weapons to fight against natural disasters in the future. This is the prototype of the Throne of Heroes.

The lost paradise in Mesopotamia, the solar boat in Egypt, the island of Paradise in Greece, and Valhalla in Northern Europe—all places in the age of gods that housed the souls of heroes—had the same effect.

Therefore, the bright side that retains all the beautiful memories basically has two destinations: either ascend to the Throne of Heroes and work for Gaia and Alaya, or join the cycle of the planetary source and start a new life.

The part that was abandoned was reborn through the nourishment of the lamb's blood, but because it only retained the anger of being betrayed and slandered, its memory was incomplete, so it was like a newborn.

So, she doesn't remember me, doesn't remember what happened in prison, which means...

Having figured out the key to it all, the ancient serpent glanced at the dark dragon witch out of the corner of its eye, pursed its lips, sighed softly, and felt a mix of emotions in its heart.

In your heart, that encounter, those memories, are etched into the beauty of life.

But soon, the sadness in the man's heart gradually dissipated, and he looked up at the sky with a pleasant smile.

Don't think that just because you've gone to "heaven," you can escape; I still have jurisdiction there.

Besides, it's easy to invite a god but hard to send him away. Do you still remember the last thing you said in your prayer?

I entrust this body to you.

You made a promise with me...

The Demon's Pact.

Immediately afterwards, the ancient serpent raised one hand, grasped at the air, and the remaining divine will resonated rhythmically, with invisible ripples spreading out.

At the same time, ripples spread across the vast ocean of stars, and the faint sound of pages turning could be heard.

After a moment, Samael slowly opened his eyes, a meaningful mockery flashing in them.

Alaya and Gaia can't steal my people.

Well then, farewell, Joan of Arc.

Samael's lips curved into a pleased smile, his vertical pupils opening and closing slowly.

No, or rather, from now on I should call you... Leticia...

Just as a certain god of inevitability, who was abusing his power for personal gain, was chuckling wickedly, the dragon witch, whose head was being pressed and stroked, gradually came back to her senses from her dazed state and couldn't help but shiver with disgust.

Wait, how could I not resist such a disgusting action? So depraved! So depraved!

Feeling deeply embarrassed and ashamed, the Dragon Witch immediately raised her hand to slap away the mischievous finger that was playing tricks on her head. She was so angry that her teeth itched and her eyes were about to spit fire. Her fierce and menacing posture was like that of a cat that had been provoked and was about to retaliate against the hateful two-legged beast.

Disgrace! Utter disgrace! Nobody can stop me today, I'm going to kill a god!

However, before Jeanne d'Arc in Black could retaliate, the back of her hand raised towards her swayed slightly, causing her to freeze in place uncontrollably.

On the back of that hand, three intersecting, flame-shaped scarlet lines shimmered with light, their powerful binding force emanating from them.

That's right, the scientific name for this thing is "Command Seal"... It originates from a variant of the rune magic Geis...

The Dragon Witch struggled desperately while angrily shouting and cursing.

"You bastard, what did you do to me? Let me go if you dare! Let's have a good fight!"

"Who's the king and queen? I don't think you understand!"

Samael smirked, drawing out his words with a wicked grin, his gaze meaningful.

As a creation born from flesh and blood, this woman's existence was sustained by his magic. Dealing with this rebellious witch would be incredibly easy for him.

You should know that the last person to receive this treatment was pinned down in a rock and locked up in solitary confinement.

"Understand? Understand what?"

The Dragon Witch, frozen in place, was unaware of what the man before her was thinking, but instinctively felt a chill run down her spine. She was like a startled quail, involuntarily swallowing hard, her whole body covered in goosebumps.

You'll find out soon enough.

Samael smiled, his expression full of malice.

"Clap clap clap!"

Immediately afterwards, a crisp and loud impact reverberated throughout the entire stone chamber.

The arrogant dragon witch was held under someone's armpits and pressed against his knees, her pert, plump buttocks receiving a fierce "service".

After a brief moment of disorientation, waves of throbbing pain and tingling numbness shot straight up to her brain, and Jeanne Alter felt a certain part of her body becoming hot and swollen.

In an instant, Jeanne d'Arc Alter came to her senses, her pretty face flushed red, and the stinging pain in her buttocks, accompanied by a strong sense of shame, surged into her heart, causing this dragon witch to shout and curse angrily.

"Damn you, put me down! I'm going to beat you to a pulp!"

"Clap!"

However, what she received in return was a merciless punishment.

"Bastard, I'll sacrifice you with my blood!"

"Clap clap clap!"

"Waaah, I'll remember this grudge..."

"Clap clap clap!"

"I……"

"Clap clap clap clap!"

"You... I haven't said anything yet!"

"Uh, sorry, just doing it on the spur of the moment..."

Samael looked at the Dragon Witch, whose eyes were filled with tears of humiliation and whose face was full of grief and indignation, and couldn't help but smile awkwardly. He withdrew his claws, picked up the now docile Jeanne d'Arc Alter, jumped onto Fafnir's back, and rode the dragon, which could not contain its excitement, smashed through the stone wall and soared into the sky.

The clouds churned and the wind howled. The ancient serpent, standing on the dragon's back, looked back at the increasingly tiny scenery on the ground, and its brows gradually furrowed.

It seems that those indescribable things have also begun to notice Earth; perhaps it's time to make some preparations in advance.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Beneath the Iceberg, in the Darkness (4.2k)

Months later, in the Tiforge region of France, at the old residence of Marshal Gilles de Ray.

Having suffered unknown destruction, this already dilapidated building now has many collapsed walls, a large, dark hole punched into the inner side of the castle, and broken plants and withered branches and leaves scattered everywhere in the courtyard, making it appear even more desolate.

At that moment, a group of mysterious, uninvited guests, dressed in black religious robes and with black hoods covering their faces, were scattered around the mansion, each busy with their own tasks.

Some of them squatted on the ground, holding special chalk and materials, carefully drawing hybrid Hebrew and Latin spells on nearby tree trunks, bricks, and roads. Working together, they gradually pieced together a magic circle that covered the entire mansion.

Some followed the large hole torn open in the castle and entered the dimly lit underground stone chamber to explore. They carefully collected and sealed samples of rock fragments with special marks and soil with lingering traces of their presence, and passed them to their colleagues waiting above.

Several black-clad priests dressed as clerks were engrossed in making detailed records on parchment based on various samples.

Subsequently, the samples were packed into boxes and loaded onto sealed horse-drawn carriages by the tall and robust guards on the perimeter, and transported away via a side path.

With each gesture, a silver cross swayed slightly in front of each person's chest.

Just as the mysterious men in black were busy in an orderly manner, a young man holding a black-covered textbook walked into the half-collapsed living room. He frowned slightly as he looked at his boss, who was engrossed in eating a pile of precious ingredients such as foie gras, steak, caviar, and matsutake mushrooms at the dining table.

Not only that, the blond-haired, red-eyed man in front of them had his feet propped up on an expensive pine chair, appearing quite relaxed.

This appearance reminded the young clerk of a lazy, idle street thug.

"Would you like to sit down and have something to eat? The host has excellent taste."

The blond, red-eyed man slightly lifted the long hair that covered half of his face, looked up at the newcomer, and casually extended an invitation.

"Stab!"

Meanwhile, the slicing of the knife and fork on the exquisite porcelain plate produced a sharp, grating sound.

"Your Excellency, you represent the Holy See. Although there are no outsiders present, please still pay some attention to your image."

The young clerk raised an eyebrow, couldn't help but adjust the monocle perched on his nose, and earnestly reminded him.

"Also, this is the crime scene, please do not touch the things inside, we have not completed the sampling yet."

"Since the person is dead anyway, it would be a waste not to eat such good food."

The man shrugged, clearly not heeding much of the advice, and poured himself a glass of aged wine, downing it in one gulp, closing his eyes to enjoy the rich taste and the rising buzz.

Even more so, due to the heat of the alcohol, he casually unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his well-built and muscular chest.

Upon seeing this, the young clerk, who was supposed to be reporting on the situation, had veins bulging on his forehead and his brows furrowed. In the end, he helplessly twitched the corner of his mouth, too lazy to offer any further advice or correction.

Although I had long heard that the guys in the Burial Agency were all eccentric oddballs, having this kind of scoundrel become the leader of the operation would definitely lower the overall level of the Vatican.

Speaking of which, for something this degrading, couldn't we at least let the freaks in the Burial Agency act alone, or at least not drag the Eighth Secret Society down with them?

The young clerk, with a slightly bookish air, secretly grumbled to himself.

The so-called "Burial Agency" and "Eighth Secret Society" are both subordinate organizations of the Holy Church.

One is an elite combat force that hunts down heretics and removes obstacles for the Church; the other is a semi-academic department responsible for the recovery and management of sacred relics around the world. Both are special agencies hidden beneath the surface of the Church.

In addition, the church's public institutions included the Knights of the Righteousness and the Inquisitions of Heresy in various regions.

This mission is a rare joint operation between the Burial Agency and the Eighth Secret Order, and is fully led by the high priest from the Burial Agency.

The main issue it addresses is related to the owner of this mansion.

Not long ago, no one expected that the renowned Marshal Gilles de Rais would travel alone to Reims to surrender to the church and confess to his crimes of researching cult texts and harming children.

Based on a series of evidence and the confessions of the perpetrators, Vatican officials who came to investigate the scene unearthed the skeletons of more than a dozen children.

During the trial, political enemies and nobles who had clashed with the French marshal, like flies that smelled blood, rushed to join the ranks of witnesses and successively exposed more of Gilles de Rais's crimes.

For example, Marshal René's younger brother reported that a large number of children's remains had been found in the Château de Chandos, but when investigators arrived at the scene, they found no trace of children's bodies.

René's reasoning was that after Chandeausay was taken over by Gilles de Rey, many children went missing during his control of the city, and many locals could testify that they witnessed Marshal Gilles de Rey taking their children away under various pretexts.

When Gil withdrew his troops, their children never returned. Although there were no traces of them, this proved that Gil was responsible for the children's bodies in Chandorse Castle. However, in order to destroy the evidence, the devil quickly disposed of the bodies and covered up his crime.

Gradually, long-standing cases of missing children from various places were reported to the royal family and the Papacy. The number of children harmed by this marshal increased from a dozen to more than 140.

His evil deeds were almost all over France. Under public condemnation, Marshal Gilles de Rais confessed to all his crimes, and the matter was settled, becoming an ironclad case.

The perpetrator, Gilles de Rae, was sentenced to death. Given the marshal's merits and status, he could have at least chosen a dignified way to die, if not completely exonerated.

However, he insisted on requesting the Vatican to allow him to end his life by burning at the stake, in the same manner as the saint of Orleans.

A few days ago, Gilles de Rais was already sent to the stake, completing his life of half glory and half absurdity.

Today, the national hero who once commanded a large army and repeatedly defeated the English at a young age has, after his downfall, transformed into a demon hated by everyone and cursed by the people to stop children from crying at night—"Bluebeard".

However, the reasons behind this remain shrouded in mystery.

For example, Gilles' younger brother René had a long-standing dispute with his brother over the inheritance, and the two even went to war against each other, which was a well-known fact at the time. However, his testimony was completely believed by the archbishop and became one of the decisive pieces of evidence in the trial of the French marshal.

For example, during the trial, the Brittany faction, sent by the royal family and which had always been at odds with the French marshal, also began to get involved, working with the Vatican to try the case and finalizing the facts within a month.

For example, besides accusing Gilles de Rae of taking children away, some residents gave different answers, saying that what they saw was not Gilles himself, but Gilles' cousin.

Even after the marshal was burned at the stake, the missing cousin never showed up again, and even the tainted witnesses who accused Jill were sentenced to death for aiding and abetting the crime.

……

Additionally, it is worth mentioning that the bulk of Gilles' estate went to the Brittany faction, while the remainder went to his brother René and other relatives who accused him.

But as time went by, no one cared about these things anymore.

On the contrary, the reason why Gilles de Rais, who was walking towards the execution platform, had a carefree smile on his face before his death, as if he were relieved, became a mystery that people talked about.

A strange criminal, a clumsy political farce.

The young clerk thought to himself, then shook his head to clear his mind and turned to look at his boss, who had finished eating and was leaning back in his chair, leisurely enjoying his after-dinner snack.

Surely the burial agency's salary isn't so high that they can't support you?

Why do you go out like a starving ghost reincarnated, coming to the crime scene to freeload?

If an outsider were to barge in, they might think we weren't cleaning up or eliminating potential hazards, but rather having a picnic or feast.

You really don't consider yourself an outsider...

The young clerk secretly rolled his eyes and couldn't help but mutter to himself again.

Fortunately, after a hearty meal, the priest finally remembered his duties, let out a burp, and casually asked questions while picking his teeth.