Chapter 576
Chapter 576
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 576
Chapter Title: Betrayal (5)
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1.
The ancient palace faded away like a mirage, giving way to a colossal cathedral.
Majestic, holy, or sacred.
There were any number of words that could describe the cathedral.
But the first one that sprang to mind was enormous, thanks to its overwhelming grandeur.
A ceiling so high it made your head spin just to look up at it.
This space, more evocative of a prophet's dream than any realistic structure, seemed more than sufficient as a battlefield for witches.
As I'd confirmed before, the nun's habit Dorothy always wore was no ordinary garment.
It was an artifact worthy of being called a wearable fortress, boasting excellent defensive properties all on its own.
Of course, that had only been a superficial guess at best.
I hadn't grasped the full details.
And in the instant Dorothy's Inner Barrier completely engulfed our surroundings, I finally understood the habit's true role.
The pillars linking floor to ceiling were as thick and massive as world trees.
Yet what truly supported this entire space wasn't those pillars—it was Dorothy's nun's habit.
She had become an axis in her own right, the very center of this newly overlaid world.
She wouldn't go to such elaborate lengths without some ulterior motive.
It looked like an Inner Barrier that had undergone some kind of modification, much like Ea Sadal Melik's Water Jar or the one Bianca had created using the Arena Flag.
And that modification undoubtedly worked to Dorothy's advantage.
"......"
Swallowing an indescribable bitterness, I channeled my magic power.
I donned my armor and raised the Red Branch.
I knew full well that such emotions were a luxury.
My disappointment stemmed not from fear of the fight.
The letdown toward Dorothy arose precisely because I'd placed even a sliver of hope in her.
"What happened to Her Majesty?"
"If you're so curious, why not check for yourself?"
Even as I asked, I was already half-convinced.
Dorothy's actions were far too bold.
If she'd been aiming for a surprise strike in a moment of carelessness before fleeing, that would be one thing—but instead, she was openly deploying a barrier and gearing up to show her power.
And doing it here, of all places: the Nukelavi Kingdom, her home turf in what was essentially Lurue's domain amid the deep sea.
This indirectly signaled that Lurue was in no state to intervene in the battle.
Predicting what had happened before and after wasn't hard.
It was much like a friendly puppy approaching a dog catcher without a hint of wariness.
She'd probably closed in calmly, just like she had with Si-woo, and delivered the knife.
"Why on earth?"
Knowing it was pointless, I tossed out one final question.
Dorothy giggled as if the whole thing were some grand joke.
"I finally found a toy I liked, but you turned down my scouting offer, didn't you? And judging by the queen's reaction, she wasn't about to give her blessing either~ What choice did I have?"
"For such a trivial reason?"
Truly, for just that reason.
Rage boiled up inside me.
Did a Public Enemy lack even basic human emotions?
Lurue's trust in Dorothy had been so blindly precarious, even an outsider like me could see it teetering.
She hadn't cared a whit about her being a Public Enemy, treating her with lavish hospitality purely as a friend.
To stab such a Lurue without the slightest hesitation...
And Lurue was the disciple of a friend who'd passed away just recently, no less.
"Oh my~ How scary. So you can make that face."
I barely reined in the urge to hurl curses and screams.
"I clearly told you. This is the only way I know."
Dorothy spoke with utter nonchalance.
It was a trashy excuse not worth dignifying with a response.
I redefined every judgment I'd ever made about her.
She was no longer Lurue's friend.
Nor the gray figure who'd once plunged Si-woo into tangled thoughts.
A bona fide enemy.
Nothing more than a dangerous element that needed to be eliminated.
Which meant I had to steel myself even further.
A cluttered mind hampers combat.
For all I knew, Dorothy's casual behavior from the start was deliberate provocation.
My body and mind shifted into full combat mode.
As was habit, I ran through our respective situations and the pros and cons.
It was what I always did before a fight.
Things had been different against Bianca.
Si-woo and Dorothy had almost no intel on each other.
Back then, even if my power fell short, I'd been able to analyze Bianca's Autonomic Magic and swordsmanship, preparing countermeasures accordingly.
But now? I knew nothing.
Lack of information meant choices branched even from the first exchange of blows.
Two options here.
One: Keep my distance from Dorothy, probe her Autonomic Magic with the ribbon, then close in.
Two: Abruptly narrow the gap and force the close-quarters combat I excelled at.
Each carried its risks and rewards.
The first was the safer, more cautious play.
Charging in blind without intel was tantamount to sprinting through a minefield unarmed.
Thus, treating the ribbon like a tester to detect and neutralize threats was a major plus.
But it handed intel to Dorothy too—and once she had a rough read on me, closing distance late would be exceedingly tough.
The second was a blitz to seize initiative from the opening clash.
Dorothy lacked info on Si-woo, same as me.
By experience and common sense alike, this was the prime moment to exploit.
The catch? I'd have to improvise every development after, plus shoulder the risk of whatever traps she might've prepped, with zero countermeasures.
"Feara."
The deliberation was brief.
Dorothy was 22nd Hierarchy.
Same rank as that mighty Witch of Desire, a Public Enemy who'd battled countless witches.
Even having grown incomparably stronger since then, charging head-on offered low odds.
First strike claims victory.
Si-woo's biggest edge lay in forcing close combat with the Red Branch.
Si-woo's body vanished mid-air in a flash of blue light.
He reappeared behind Dorothy—in mid-air—aiming straight for her exposed occiput.
Magic-enhanced senses, sharpened further by battle thrill, picked out even the fine fuzz on her nape.
He swung the spear with everything he had at the vital spot lethal to humans and witches alike.
The blade licked across her defenseless nape.
For one brief instant, a sure hit seemed certain.
"Rea~lly, you remind me of that terrifying pink duchess. So you are her disciple after all?"
Dorothy's body shifted ever so slightly.
She stepped lightly and spun like a graceful waltz turn.
With the bare minimum motion—without even glancing back—she evaded the sudden strike from behind.
No need to panic.
Just harness the momentum of the miss to build rotation.
The spear's edge in his grip was worlds sharper than a month ago.
-Shaaaack!
A far fiercer strike than before collided with Dorothy's pristine white sword.
-Clang!
-Sparkcrackle!
White light shattered beautifully, scattering amid the barrier's rough, spark-like flare.
"Guh!"
In that instant.
Shock ripped from wrist through arm like it would pulverize everything, joined by an ominous creak from his waist as rotation accelerated.
Pressure like his guts were being churned.
It'd feel just like this if, back in his human days, he'd swung a steel pipe full-tilt at a massive alloy cube.
His wrist not snapping, bones uncracked—it was solely thanks to his spirit body's resilience.
Staggering back, he tried to make sense of the senseless.
He had no shortage of experience clashing arms in battle.
Trials against himself, enemy knights, his master—plenty already under his belt.
But weapons colliding like this? Never once.
"Surprised?"
He replayed the moment.
Dorothy had merely extended her sword slightly to parry Si-woo's full-power swing.
That's when physics got defied.
Her blade hadn't budged a single millimeter from its spot.
Her body stayed rooted in that deep defensive stance.
Not a single hair out of place.
"Give it another go. I'll even give you an opening."
Dorothy spread her sword arm wide, exuding leisure.
Seeming utterly untouched by the prior clash.
"Hup...!"
Something was off—he felt it—but clashing was the only way to know.
This time, though, more carefully: he wrapped his joints, wrist first, in ribbon like banding inside his armor.
To dampen the shock as much as possible.
Feigning an overhead guard, then a top-down thrust.
A deceptively plain stab, but laced with feints—nearly impossible to counter dead-on.
-Boom!
-Sparkcrackle!
"Urk...!"
Different approach, same outcome.
Dorothy's stance looked unremarkable at a glance.
Like she hadn't drilled swordsmanship professionally—riddled with apparent openings.
Yet she read Si-woo's feint like child's play, deflecting sideways as if brushing off a spiderweb.
Just that, and his spear's vicious arc veered utterly off-course amid crushing pressure on his innards.
Dorothy's sword, meanwhile, swept in perfectly uniform motion without deviation, its generated distortion field neutered effortlessly by her habit.
Movement and result alike, as if action and reaction were myths.
What registered was mountain-like mass and an absolute chasm in raw power.
No flashy visuals like the Bianca fight—he'd forgotten for a moment.
His foe was 22nd Hierarchy.
A titan two full tiers above even the great witches who dominated through purity.
"That it? My turn?"
As if waiting for Si-woo—who'd nearly faltered on his own steam—to steady himself, Dorothy assumed her stance.
Her usual airy voice now brimmed with a master's seasoned timbre.
Thereafter.
Her sword swung.