Theresa, of course, could not comprehend such words. They only stoked her fury further. The very air quaked as her control shattered.
Seizing the opening, Ruth's true form accelerated to near-sonic speed. A blade of condensed shadow-force slashed toward Theresa's head—
CRACK—!
Under normal circumstances, her diamond-hard crystalline body would never fracture so easily. But now, ravaged by the Holy Sword Fragment and Chaos Energy, it was brittle as cheap glass. The strike sent fissures spiderwebbing across her skull.
And that—was the final spark to ignite her madness.
"YOU FORCE MY HAND!"
Her body erupted in prismatic light. "THEN DIE—ALL OF YOU!"
The next instant, a cataclysmic torrent of rainbow-hued energy exploded outward—
Hiding behind a mirror, Nidalee trembled, scarcely able to believe what she was witnessing.
Just moments ago, the fallen nuns had been sharing a bed, lost in pleasure—only to suddenly turn on each other, fighting naked with spells more terrifying than the last.
That alone would have been shocking enough. Though she'd never seen such betrayal firsthand, she'd heard tales of it often enough.
But why had she been trapped in this labyrinth of mirrors as well?
"Can't you fight without dragging an innocent bystander into it?!"
That had been her furious thought earlier. Now, however, she couldn't even muster the energy to complain.
Because in mere minutes, they had all transformed into monstrous... things.
Even Ruth and Sephera—women she knew—had taken on those horrifying forms.
What in the abyss is this?!
Her mind reeled under the assault. Just glimpsing the nuns' true visages sent stabbing pains through her skull, as though something inside her were being warped.
Then, as she listened to the enraged roars of the creature called "Eldest Sister" and Sephera's chilling reply, realization struck like lightning.
Witches. They were witches—legendary, nightmare-made-flesh.
This was no sanctuary of the Goddess of Life, but a den of sin and horror—a Witch Monastery.
The horror of it crashed over her. She'd traveled with two of them for an entire day, believing them righteous hunters of evil!
I have to escape. Warn Father—immediately!
Shifting back into leopard form, she whirled to flee—only to freeze.
In this maze of distorted mirrors, crystallized light, and shifting pathways, where could she possibly run?
All she could do was exhaust herself, darting futilely between reflections.
And now, Theresa's desperate final gambit erupted—a torrent of prismatic magic flooding the chamber. The energies ricocheted between the mirrors, swallowing Nidalee in an instant.
"Ghk—!"
A feeble, helpless druid, she had no defense against such power. A choked gasp of agony escaped her throat before darkness claimed her.
Nor were the witches faring much better. Hattie and Ruth, swift as shadows, dodged and weaved through the deadly light. Sophia, slower but steadier, stood her ground, mana flaring as she resisted the spell's corruption.
Worse, she had to maintain two Haste spells. If those faltered, the backlash would cripple Hattie and Ruth—ending any hope of victory.
"Master!"
Sephera's cry rang out as her massive form swooped down, shielding Charles from the radiance.
"Urgh—!"
Vines composing her body blackened and disintegrated—a desperate gambit. By sacrificing portions of herself, she absorbed the attack's fury.
In gamer terms: when her health hit zero, she started burning her max HP instead.
"Hold on, Sephera!"
Gritting his teeth, Charles knew his fragile frame couldn't survive another blast. He didn't refuse her protection—but now, trapped behind her bulk, he couldn't move or strike back.
This isn't working. We need to counterattack—NOW.
Drawing a sharp breath, he raised his right hand, fingers splayed.
Thanks to his Pact of the Blade, his bond with the Storm Warhammer had deepened. Now, he willed it back to him.
Bzzzt—!
Responding to his call, the hammer streaked across the chamber like lightning. The moment it slammed into his palm, he channeled his magic into it—igniting the storm within—and hurled it at Theresa with all his strength.
Whoosh—!
The square-headed hammer spun end over end, crashing directly into Theresa's skull!
BOOM—!
The hammer struck true, detonating with a thunderous blast. Though the Storm Warhammer was powerful, its force alone might not have been enough on this battlefield—but blunt weapons were the bane of crystalline beings, and Charles wasn't aiming for a killing blow. He just needed to disrupt her spellcasting!
As the hammer returned to his hand, fresh cracks spiderwebbed across Theresa's crystallized head. Dizziness overwhelmed her, and her magic pulsed erratically. "Gah—!"
She screamed in agony. The prismatic light she had unleashed flickered wildly, its intensity surging and fading—proof she had lost all control over her own spell.
Now's the chance!
Knowing he couldn't let her regain composure, Charles gritted his teeth and stepped out from behind Sephera's massive form. Ignoring the searing pain of the residual light, he charged straight at Theresa.
"Agh—!"
The burning torment wracked his skin, forcing a howl from his throat. But he pushed through, leaping at Theresa with a roar: "Be—PURIFIED—!"
BANG—!
He crashed into her crystallized body, the impact sending jolts of pain through him—but he didn't care. In the next instant, milky-white purification light enveloped Theresa, snuffing out the destructive radiance completely.
"No—NO—!"
Terror filled her voice, but battered and drained as she was, she could no longer resist the force of purification seeping into her soul.
After a night of brutal battle, this final purification broke her completely.
At last, her eyes closed. She fell into a deep, helpless unconsciousness.
Crack—
Without her magic to sustain it, the remaining mirrors in the domain shattered one after another, dissolving into motes of rainbow light that vanished into the air.
Whoosh—
The prismatic veil obscuring the night sky dissipated, allowing the outside wind to rush back into the area. Theresa's Absolute Domain had collapsed entirely, its prison-like grip finally broken.
As for Theresa herself, encased in the milky purification glow, her crystalline shell melted away, revealing skin as smooth and pale as fresh milk.
Her long, wheat-gold hair cascaded down, framing the twin peaks of her ample bosom. Naked and serene, she lay limp in Charles's arms, her breathing even—a beautiful woman lost in tranquil slumber.
The purification had succeeded.
Charles's legs gave out. Uncaring of his own nudity, he slumped onto the cold floor. The chill air bit at his skin, but he couldn't muster the energy to even grab clothes. All he wanted was to empty his mind and rest.
Physically, he still had strength to spare—after all, purifying Theresa had flooded him with energy, healing his wounds and easing his fatigue.
But the night's relentless tension, from start to finish, had left his mind frayed. That kind of exhaustion couldn't be so easily mended. Right now, he just needed to stop.
...But rest would have to wait.
Forcing himself to focus, he scanned the surroundings. Thankfully, though the dorm and other structures had been obliterated by Theresa's rampage, her nun's habit remained—as did his own priest's robes.
He grabbed the habit and draped it over Theresa, covering her at least partially. As for himself? The cold wasn't unbearable yet. Clothes could wait.
Nearby, Sophia finally released her concentration on Haste, shifting back to human form before collapsing unceremoniously to the ground, gasping for breath. Maintaining two spells while resisting Theresa's assault had pushed her to the limit.
Hattie and Ruth weren't faring much better. Scarred by the prismatic light, they too reverted to human form the moment Haste faded, collapsing like boneless sacks, utterly spent.
Ekta and Andny, at least, were in better shape. Having kept their distance, their injuries were lighter. Charles left them be—their sluggishness was just Haste's backlash, not serious harm.
After settling Theresa (now decently clothed) aside, he rummaged through the debris, retrieving a spellbook before heading to Sephera.
The venomous witch had also returned to human form—but unlike the others, she lay motionless, genuinely incapacitated by her wounds.
Charles walked to her side, knelt down, and pulled her into his embrace. A Cure Wounds spell washed over her, restoring some of her strength. The girl lifted her head weakly, forcing a faint smile.
"Congratulations, Master," she whispered. "You've successfully subdued Theresa."
Charles managed a tired smile in return. "Likewise… sigh."
As he spoke, he glanced around at the remaining constructions, his expression twisting in distress.
The losses were heavy.
The dorm, kitchen, scriptorium, bath chamber, Offering Porridge Room, clinic, Training Grounds, Trading Post, and the perimeter walls—
All had suffered varying degrees of damage in the recent battle. Repairing them would cost a staggering amount of Purification Points!
Thankfully, the Tailor's Shop, Blacksmith Shop, and altar had been built farther away and remained untouched by Theresa's rampage. Otherwise, he'd truly have nothing left but tears.
Charles pulled up the system, noting that Theresa had granted him 7,500 Purification Points. A sharp inhale escaped him—the sheer amount was staggering.
The strength of an Archwitch was beyond anything he'd imagined.
Luckily—luckily—she'd been foolish enough to meddle with Chaos Energy, allowing someone as weak as him to defeat her now.
Hah.
Without lingering on his victory, he switched to the construction interface and spent 450 Purification Points to repair all the damaged structures marked with [Broken].
A milky light shimmered as new walls materialized from thin air. Within seconds, everything was restored to its former state.
Then, his expression shifted.
A red dot—indicating a foe—still pulsed on the map.
He turned and spotted her: curled up against the far wall, deep in a coma, was his old "friend"—a Circle of the Land Druid, part-time hunter, a Ranger of questionable prospects—the Highlander woman, Nidalee.
Earlier, his nerves had been too frayed, his focus entirely on Theresa. He hadn't spared a thought for this Druid, even though the system had alerted him the moment she entered the monastery.
And now…
His gaze darkened as he studied her motionless form.
Nidalee actually came here?
For revenge? Or for the Holy Sword Fragment?
The audacity.
He hadn't even settled the score with her for raiding Ruth, and yet she had the gall to infiltrate his monastery, steal from him, and worse—witness the true forms of the witches.
Under these circumstances… letting her leave was out of the question.
Considering she was still a capable individual—and her ties to the Mountaineer Tribe—killing her outright would be a waste. His eyes gleamed with calculation as he scrolled to the bottom of the system and tapped lightly.
Another 300 Purification Points vanished as purified white light gathered beneath the bath chamber, reshaping the terrain below.
Soon, a new Level 2 construction—the Dungeon—slowly took form.
This construction was originally intended for the witches. In the game, after players defeated or subdued a witch, they had to first "training" them within the Dungeon to ensure absolute obedience.
But until now, the force of purification had directly altered the witches' wills, bypassing the need for conditioning. Thus, Charles had never bothered to construct this construction.
Now, with an unpurifiable female foe at hand, this construction would finally serve its purpose.
"Ekta," he commanded weakly, "do you have any strength left? Carry that woman to the Dungeon beneath the bath chamber. You'll know what to do."
"Once this is done... we rest."
"Wait, Master!" Sephera suddenly interjected. "We'll handle this woman—you must go to Lady Malena's house at once!"
"Theresa sent scum to rape her tonight and kidnap her daughter. Hurry—there may still be time!"
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