But the moment his release finished, Charles's mind snapped clean. Fixing his gaze on Theresa—limp, glistening, sprawled on the bed as the witches nuzzled and tasted her—he chanted silently, "Purify—!"
Buzz—
A haze of white light rose, blooming from every point of contact, seeping into Theresa's soul. Still deep in the helpless haze of post-orgasmic bliss, Theresa snapped awake, eyes wide, shoving away Sephera's lips as she gazed down in shock. "What?!"
Sephera's voice murmured at her ear, calm and coaxing: "Don't be afraid, Master. This is a normal occurrence."
Normal… occurrence?
For just a breath, she hesitated—then the force of purification surged past her defenses, flooding straight into her inner world.
My very soul… is changing!
This too is… normal?
No. No! I cannot allow it—under no circumstances can my soul be altered!
She flung off Sophia and Hattie's gentle hands still resting on her chest, twisting to strike at Charles, who clung to her waist.
But at that instant, Ruth—who hadn't joined the revels, who had long been lurking at the edge—suddenly thrust out her right hand—
Slash—!
A fragment of the Holy Sword jutted from her palm in a flash and pierced straight into Theresa's back!
"Well—!"
Theresa looked down in disbelief at the blade protruding from her chest, then twisted her head, her whole body trembling, to see Ruth, face impassive, violet-red eyes cold and murderous.
"Ruth?!" she stammered, unable to believe what she saw. "You… betrayed us?!"
Ruth, unmoved, twisted her fingertip, and the Holy Sword's fragment churned violently within Theresa's body, sacred force clashing with eldritch chaos energy—exploding in a shockwave of power.
"Uurrgh—!"
Runaway magic charged through Theresa, making the witch howl in agony.
Many coveted chaotic energy, but everyone knew the danger: it was like carrying a bundle of explosives, able to destroy your enemies—or yourself.
Her expression twisted, but what tormented her most wasn't the Holy Sword fragment or the chaos energy detonating in her flesh. It was the sudden realization of another horrifying truth.
How did Ruth know the secret—about the weapon capable of countering the chaos energy I wield?
She should never have known… yet I told no one, except the Abyssal Lord and…
That realization nearly split her soul.
It was Sephera…
The very witch she'd raised from childhood, her most trusted and intimate kin—had betrayed her secret and colluded with Ruth to murder her!
Her heart throbbed with grief—but this was only the beginning of the grand betrayal.
Hattie and Sophia, left and right at her flanks, attacked as one: Hattie chanting an incantation that summoned a swarm of slick ink-green tentacles to bind Theresa's nude form. Sophia, meanwhile, unleashed a 5th-level spell: "Hold Monster," aiming to end things immediately.
Magic stabbed into her soul, Theresa's mind flickering toward enslavement. Her bare form stiffened, but her natural resistance—potent and unyielding—shrugged off the spell's power. Rage surged to her heart: "All of you… have betrayed me!"
Realizing every witch she'd once called family now meant to turn her into a puppet, a wave of despair and agony nearly broke her sanity. "Wh—y—?!"
"Aaah—!"
She roared, and her delicate flesh crystallized, shimmering into a suit of diamond armor that radiated a prismatic blast across the hall—red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, Green,violet—all bursting in a blast of devastating light.
Prismatic Spray!
A 7th-level spell: each beam seething with an effect potent enough to slay Charles outright.
"Absorb Elements!"
Charles, caught by a bolt of red light, hastily chanted the spell, maintaining skin contact with Theresa to maintain the purification.
But unbearable heat crashed through him—his False Life protection burned away in a flash, his hair and brows scorched clean off, his entire body ablaze with pain.
"Arrgh—!"
The magic roasted his flesh, but the energies unleashed by purifying Theresa kept knitting ruined muscle and nerve back together, so his skin crisped and regenerated in an endless, agonizing cycle until he shrieked in torment.
I'll die at this rate!
I can't keep taking this spell head-on!
Instinct for survival made him leap from the bed—barely avoiding the ray. Without his purifying presence suppressing her, Theresa regained partial control and doubled down on her Prismatic Spray.
"Ugh—!"
Hattie and Sophia, at her sides, were caught in the prismatic blast, shrieking in agony. The tentacles binding Theresa's body evaporated, destroyed in an instant. Now, save for the Holy Sword fragment buried in her heart, nothing restrained the archwitch.
Chaotic energy roared, splitting the very walls of the dorm—
Crack—
The support wall shattered, the ceiling began to fall, but the force of the 7th-level spell vaporized even the magic-fortified beams. Within seconds, the dormitory vanished, exposing the black depths of night sky.
"No way!" Charles snarled, crouched under the remnants of the bed. "Retreat for now!"
No further command was needed; the other witches scattered, darting clear of the deadly light.
Freed from all constraints, Theresa slowly rose. Her face and form crystalized entirely, her gaze icy with scorn, like a glass goddess, looking down at the witches scrambling below.
With the raiding witches forced back, the effect of Prismatic Spray faded. But Theresa wasn't done—she lifted her arm, reciting an incantation: "Guards and Wards!"
Buzz—
At her words, the earth shook. Prismatic crystal obelisks thrust up from beneath the monastery, radiating rainbows to match the light blazing from Theresa's body—forming a domain of colored radiance that engulfed the entire monastery.
"What?!"
Just outside, Nidalee—a flustered bystander—realized things had gone awry. Hastily dressing, she turned to flee, but it was too late: the obelisks flared, forming a grand rainbow barrier that imprisoned her within.
This was Theresa's last resort: to warp light and space, completely isolating the monastery and creating an absolute domain all her own.
From outside, the monastery looked like a midnight black hole, devoid of even a glimmer—no trace of matter visible, for every ray of light was bent in, fueling Theresa's power, letting nothing out.
Fortunately, it was already well past midnight, and the monastery was obscure, so nobody had noticed the unnatural storm.
"Haaah—"
Power surged into Theresa, and she let out a breath of satisfaction, her crystalline form glowing with rainbow hues. She gazed down at the witches hiding like fugitives below. "Fools who don't know their place!"
She raised her hand again, conjuring waves of crystalline walls from the ground: a maze of mirrors isolating every witch in her domain.
Now, each witch looking around saw only their own helpless reflection, countless and endless, in every direction.
"Hahaha, ha ha ha—!"
Theresa's laughter echoed, and in every mirror, her image appeared, smiling cruelly and stalking forward.
No one could tell which silhouette was real. The entire monastery was now Theresa's kingdom. Here, without a high legend's help, she was truly invincible. Even a master of 9th-level magic might not topple her in her own domain—were she at full strength.
In the mirrored maze, Charles grit his teeth.
Damn it, Theresa has mastered 7th-level spells!
Witches typically knew only a few spells, but immense stamina, so every new spell they acquired doubled their power.
And now, her new spell was perfectly tailored for her abilities: if she blasted light-based spells into the mirrors, the reflected and repeated beams could shred everyone.
But—she was far from perfect. Her heart still skewered by the Holy Sword fragment, her body wracked by chaos energy, constantly damaging her from within.
Thinking this, Charles ignored the marching Theresa illusions in the mirrors. He tilted his head upward—to the patchwork of color flickering above.
Now, no one could see the outside, only a sky woven of dancing rainbow. As someone experienced in guiding Theresa through such battles, he recognized: the shifting lights were clues to where his comrades—and Theresa herself—actually were.
But today, the color changes were far slower than in any "game" iteration he'd known before.
That meant Theresa's state was dire—she couldn't even move quickly in her own field. The Holy Sword's eruption of chaos energy and his own initial purification had gravely damaged her, forcing her to focus on keeping herself stable.
Good. That means guiding everyone to her will be much easier than usual!
Emboldened, he summoned his pact-forged greatsword and crashed it down on a mirror—
Crack—!
The mirror shattered, revealing human-shaped Theresa behind, clad in a white, ornate nun's robe, hand pressed to her chest with agony.
Seeing him find her so fast, her expression switched from agony to shock.
How?!
How did he find me so quickly?!
She'd thought to hide, expel the Holy Sword fragment, then mop up the others one by one. She never imagined staying still would betray her position.
Her foes stunned, while Charles didn't hesitate—a quick step, another swing—
Crash—!
Several mirrors shattering in rapid succession, exposing wary Hattie, Sophia, and then yet another Sophia's silhouette. In an instant, all the prime combatants had grouped up!
"Get over here!"
Charles bellowed, "Don't use spells—attack physically! Don't let her catch her breath!"
He slashed once more at the mirrors.
There were two reasons for this order: the mirrors could reflect not only light but also bounce spells. And after the Holy Sword's chaos boost, Theresa's original form was so battered, she couldn't maintain her pure manifestation, forced instead into human form.
At this moment, physical attacks were most effective!
He swung at another mirror—Theresa dodged instinctively, knowing her body couldn't take it, but the blow landed not on her, but another hidden mirror—
Crack—
And out tumbled Nidalee, nerves shot, jaw slack with terror.
Well—that was unexpected.
He'd assumed another witch, but found her instead. Not wasting another thought, he advanced to the next mirror.
The witches, meanwhile, prepared for a life-or-death brawl. Hattie, taking a deep breath and finding her resolve, bent her knees, then sprang skyward—
"Roar—!"
Her throat tore out a beast's howl, emerald hair snapping and stretching, body swelling with shadows and shocks of purple-red lightning. She transformed, growing into a monstrous tentacled beast, ten meters tall, mouth a ring of lamprey fangs, every limb bristling with spines—a true tentacle horror.
Only in her true form could she unleash her full strength and strike Theresa down before she could recover.
"I'm with you!"
Ruth was next, her own body growing, shrouded in black mist and streaked with violet-red bolts. Her features warped into an enormous oval monster, a living mass of faces contorted in pain.
Sophia was third, her form morphing into her massive, multi-tentacled brain, taking command of the room's wild magic and twin-spellcasting: she cast Haste on both Hattie and Ruth.
With speed doubled, Hattie and Ruth launched themselves at the weakened archwitch, slashing with spined tentacles and mutating blades.
Theresa, forced to react, melded into a mirror to dodge, but Ruth's blade shattered it in an instant. Unable to escape, Theresa crystallized again, shifting into true form, enduring agony from chaos energy and sacred steel, lashing out with seven-hued light against her two closest sisters.
Two towering monsters pounding a crystal warrior, who still fought back with desperate rage!
Charles, wisely, watched rather than joined the struggle. Instead, he read the colors playing in the "sky," then struck at another mirror—
Smash—
Sephera, nerves frayed to breaking, whirled around, at first defensive, then delighted: "Master!"
"Go help them!" Charles barked, then raced toward the next clue.
Sephera hesitated, murmuring to herself: "Even in my true body, I can't harm Theresa…"
Still, she sighed, shifted to her true form—a giant serpent made of intertwining green, yellow, pink, and white vine whips—then prowled at the edge, ready to shield her sisters at a crucial moment.
Seeing Sephera's monstrous body, Theresa—again in crystalline form—exploded with rage. "Sephera!"
"Why—why did even you betray me?!"
Her voice was a howling grief, echoing like the wail of someone betrayed by everyone she ever loved: "I fed you bone and soul from the bodies of humans, crushed to near death, so you could live!"
"You couldn't control your magic, releasing poisonous mists and drawing the Empire's witch-hunters down on us—and I labored to cover every trace!"
"I cherished you, but all I receive from you is shameful betrayal!"
"Even if I must annihilate your soul, I cannot quench my wrath—!"
Her snarl was razor-grating, but in her true body, Sephera's voice was measured and firm. "Yes, Master you treated me well. It's for that very reason we must purify you today—out of love, not hate."
"I know your rage. I have lived it myself. But if you make it through this, the strength and peace you crave, freedom from the Night of the Witches, and the joys of existence—all will be within reach."
"Only in Master Charles's embrace can we find our perfect fate. So, eldest sister, this isn't betrayal. It's love—our love for you."
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