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Chapter 691: Lanchi's Finale in the City of Flowers (Part 1)
Chapter 691: Lanchi's Finale in the City of Flowers (Part 1)
"To be honest, this is the first time an enemy has asked me to remember him," Lanchi muttered to himself as he gazed at the tilted giant screen behind the ruins.
Previously, Beelzebub seemed particularly manic, stating that he would leave an indelible mark in his memory.
"But unfortunately, it seems that the one who will teach you about love is..."
Facing the Perilman puppet controlled by Beelzebub, Lanchi could only express his regret and gently wave his right hand as if bidding farewell to Beelzebub.
However, at this moment, Beelzebub had no time to spare for Lanchi's mind games.
What used to be a vibrant and lush garden of the Baptiste Count's mansion was now a scene of desolation and decay.
The raging downpour turned the garden into a muddy swamp, and the once neat and tidy pebble path was now full of pits and puddles of all sizes.
The glass of the greenhouse was shattered, exposing the precious flowers and plants within to the torrential rain, leaving them fragile and precarious.
"...'
The intimidating aura of the Grim Reaper and his soul-freezing gaze filled Beelzebub with an unprecedented fear that ravaged his entire being.
Beelzebub had lost count of how many times he had brutally beaten Ivanoth.
Every trembling nerve in his body screamed for him to flee, and even his pores were oozing cold sweat.
His arrogance crumbled in this moment, and the instinct for self-preservation took over. Casting aside all concerns for appearances, Beelzebub turned and fled as fast as he could, like a startled bird.
His disheveled and hasty retreat instantly vanished into the rain-filled sky.
Yinoan watched as Beelzebub fled, but she did not pursue him immediately. Instead, she laid Christine gently on the garden ground.
The radiant light that scattered around them was not comparable to flames. It was akin to the divine light of the Age of Gods, forged from the wrath and power of the Fire God. Any living being who ventured close to this radiance would feel a tremor in their very soul—a reverence for supreme power and a primal fear for their life.
Yinoan remained silent, placing her hand on Christine's chest. Suddenly, a spark burst forth from Christine's body, and a rich flow of magic surged into her, as if to bring her back from the brink of death.
"Maybe I really am crazy, entrusting my life-saving magic to such a useless girl..."
She muttered, a wry smile on her lips.
Despite her muddled thoughts, she had a vague idea of what she was doing.
It was a dual-system epic spell of fire and regeneration that she could use to forcibly revive herself from the brink of death. Using it on a second-tier girl with mediocre talent seemed absurd, even to Yinoan herself.
Gradually, Christine's face, which had been as pale as paper, began to regain its rosy hue, like a withered rose blooming once more.
Her tightly closed eyes began to twitch slightly, as if she were about to awaken at any moment, and her chest rose and fell in weak, regular breaths as the breath of life flowed within her once more.
"Yi..."
Half-asleep, Christine murmured and tried to open her eyes, but the blurry figure of the red-haired woman in the pouring rain remained indistinct.
However, as Christine's eyelashes fluttered again, she found herself being carried to the vicinity of the Baptiste family.
In the ravaged remains of the Count's mansion, under the thunderous and lightning-filled sky, a girl who had been ravaged to the brink of death was pulled back from the jaws of death.
The hope of life was rekindled within this fragile vessel.
"...'
Without a word, Yinoan handed Christine to the Count Baptiste.
"Thank you... thank you so much..."
Count Baptiste, his breath now a terrifying force, reached out his trembling arms and carefully took his precious daughter from Yinoan.
He gazed down at his daughter's serene sleeping face and couldn't hold back the tears that fell from his eyes.
The Baptiste family, having survived this calamity, was already overcome with emotion and couldn't utter a word. They never imagined that at the depths of their despair, hope would arrive in such a manner.
Strangely, even though this red-haired woman was a more terrifying figure than the demon they had faced, they did not fear her as much.
Even Christine's three younger siblings, upon seeing Ivanoth, did not hide or cower.
"Yi..."
Kel opened his mouth, but the myriad of emotions he felt left him tongue-tied. He didn't know how to express his gratitude or even how to address her.
He never imagined that the maid his sister had brought home would turn out to be the Bishop of Destruction.
This incident, which could have brought about disaster, had instead saved their family by a twist of fate.
He instinctively feared Yinoan, sensing the murderous intent and demonic aura emanating from her. Yet, at the same time, he was sincerely grateful to this Cardinal Bishop who had risked everything to pull his sister back from the grasp of death.
"Thank you for saving Christine."
Kel should have been terrified at the sight of the Bishop of Destruction, a figure with countless sins, standing at their doorstep. But the reality was strangely absurd—
The one who had just saved their family was none other than this very Bishop of Destruction, Ivanoth.
To show her the same expression they had worn when facing the demon would surely be hurtful to her.
"...'
Yinoan remained silent, merely glancing at the Baptiste family.
She lifted her gaze to the distant sky, in the direction where Beelzebub had fled.
Leaving behind a fiery barrier that rose from the ground in four directions around the Baptiste estate, she vanished without a trace.
...
Miles away, on the southern shore of Pariel, the City of Flowers, Beelzebub sped through the air at an astonishing pace, like a meteor's trail cutting through the gloomy night sky.
He kept looking back anxiously, and wherever his eyes fell, he saw only ruins. The streets of Pariel, drenched by the pouring rain, exuded a desolate air.
But these sights were not his main concern. His attention was fixed on a terrifying figure that refused to leave his mind.
That intimidating aura made even him, a great demon from the other side of the calamity, shudder with fear! Bishop of Destruction... Ivanoth...
These two names echoed in his mind, like sharp claws tearing at his nerves.
Beelzebub was perplexed. How could a maid who seemed only slightly strong turn out to be the Bishop of Destruction, Ivanoth, as if by some stroke of luck?
And it seemed that he personally awakened Ivanoth!
If he had known earlier, he would never have provoked her!
"It's all your fault, Rocky! It's all your fault, McCassy!!!"
Beelzebub muttered in terror, desperately trying to escape Pariel, the City of Flowers, while glancing back from time to time.
All he knew now was that he had to get away quickly.
If all else failed, he could lie low for a century and then stage a comeback. By that time, all these humans would be dead, and he would have plenty of opportunities and time!
Just as Beelzebub was thinking this, he felt a pair of icy hands suddenly grip his forehead.
Before he could react, a soul-rending force had pulled him away from the sky.
In an instant, the world spun, and Beelzebub felt his internal organs churning violently as he fell uncontrollably from the sky.
A deafening boom reverberated through the air.
Beelzebub crashed heavily into the hard ground of the southern shore of Pariel! Dust flew, stones splashed, and the ground spread out in circles of spider web cracks, mercilessly burying his body.
"Ah... Cough... Cough..."
Beelzebub struggled to gather his senses, as sweet and bloody saliva poured from his mouth, and his face contorted in pain.
Scarlet flames, redder than blood, burst forth from the ground, roasting Beelzebub until he let out a piercing scream.
But Beelzebub had no time to worry about that, for his eyes could only focus on one figure - the red-haired demoness who held his head firmly.
Instinct compelled Beelzebub to counter-attack, and the deep blue curse flames instantly burst from his fingertips, rushing towards Yinoan in a overwhelming torrent, causing the air itself to wither and decay wherever they passed.
Facing these curse flames that were enough to seriously injure an ordinary eighth-tier being, Yinoan remained unmoved, and a fiery tongue of scarlet flames several times more violent raged around her, as if the curse flames couldn't leave a mark on her at all.
She stood silently, her expression gradually twisting, a cruel angle lifting the corners of her lips.
Pain, to her, was but a laughable concept.
"Extremely foolish..."
Yinoan's voice echoed like a funeral dirge of the lord of hell, faintly reverberating amidst the sea of fire.
In the next moment, Yinoan's wrist twitched, and scarlet flames roared out, instantly engulfing Beelzebub's curse flames. She pressed down on Beelzebub's head and continuously slammed him into the ground, causing the buildings on the entire southern shore to tremble as if they were about to collapse and turn into deep pits, still unable to stop her from abusing Beelzebub like a weak jackal.
Beelzebub's face turned as white as paper.
He frantically gathered all his magic power and set up one barrier after another in front of him, but in the face of the destructive sparks, all defenses seemed so fragile.
And this crazy woman didn't feel pain. As long as she wasn't beaten to death, she would just trade injury for injury.
After being targeted by her, he couldn't escape, and he couldn't block her attacks. Fighting her was pure masochism, and he could only cause her a bunch of meaningless damage and take away half her life at most!
Beelzebub didn't understand why he had provoked such a creature!
His defenses were easily torn apart, and the rubble instantly swallowed Beelzebub's body, dragging him into a fiery hell of crimson heat.
The devil's heart-wrenching cries echoed through the rainy night, filled with pain and despair.
"We should have no grudges!! Destruction Bishop!!!!"
Beelzebub struggled, burning Ivanoth with his curse flames.
However, Ivanoth seemed to be unable to sense pain, and from start to finish, she didn't let go of her hand, constantly piercing Beelzebub's body with scarlet pillars of fire.
"Hehehehe."
Blood spilled from the corners of her mouth, and a twisted smile appeared,
"I just know that torturing you makes me incredibly happy."
Alarm bells rang throughout the city of Pariel, the City of Flowers.
"Warning, emergency announcement."
"An eighth-tier battle has occurred in Area 1 of the southern shore of Pariel."
"An eighth-tier battle has occurred."
"Please evacuate as quickly as possible."
"The combatants are suspected to be the demon race that spread the curse, and the second combatant is suspected to be the Destruction Bishop, Ivanoth."
...
Less than half an hour later.
4th District, North Shore, Baptiste Manor Garden.
Raindrops hit the water, splashing up petals of water.
The fountain in the center of the garden had stopped working, and several marble sculptures lay broken in the pool, shattered.
The once clear pool was now murky, with branches, leaves, and bricks floating on the surface.
The flower beds on either side were not spared, and the tall beech and oak trees deep in the garden also met with misfortune. Their straight and majestic trunks were covered with charred marks, their branches broken and damaged, and countless fallen leaves danced in the wind.
Yinoan, holding the heel of a charred demon corpse that had lost its human form, stepped towards the Baptiste Manor one step at a time.
Everything she saw was different from the sunny Baptiste Manor in her brief memory.
She looked down at herself, and the once spotless maid's skirt was now soaked in blood, riddled with charred holes.
This was very rude, but it didn't matter anymore.
The pouring rain continued to wash away, sweeping away her battered body, the blood and mud beneath her feet.
The thunder gradually faded, and the night, shrouded in wind and rain, slowly quieted down, the rain seeming to lessen.
When Yinoan finally arrived at the gate of Baptiste Manor, the Baptiste family was stunned.
Her body was covered with wounds, some deep enough to see the bones, still gushing with crimson blood, but there was no trace of pain on her face.
"..."
They stared, watching the blood-soaked, injured maid before them, unable to speak for a moment.
"It's alright now."
Yinoan's voice was flat.
Just like when she first came to the manor, everything was unfamiliar.
After she had crumpled up and completely burned that pitch-black magic book, all the demons had woken up.
She threw Beelzebub's body away like garbage.
There was Rocky, the butler of the Baptiste Manor, and everyone in the noble circle on the north shore of the city knew that he was strong. It would be easy to explain how the family had defeated the demon, so she didn't need to teach the Baptiste Count anything, and the family should naturally handle the rest.
"Bring out the employment contract."
She looked at Count Baptiste coldly and said.
Count Baptiste immediately ran back into the mansion and soon found a contract to give to her.
(End of chapter)
This was merely an employment contract and couldn't restrict her too much; if the Destruction Bishop wanted to kill them, she could have done so long ago.
Yinoan took the contract, and soon, it was burned to ashes, scattering into the sky.
"From now on, we will have nothing more to do with each other."
Yinoan turned to leave.
"Yinoan!"
A shout broke the silence, and a pale-faced Christine rushed over, her beautiful eyes blurred by tears.
Despite her weary consciousness and aching body, she had forced herself to wake up.
She had a feeling that if she didn't wake up now, she might never see Yinoan again.
But to her surprise, Yinoan took a step back, avoiding Christine's outstretched arms.
She glanced coldly at the young girl.
"Young Miss, please restrain yourself."
Yinoan's voice was icy, as if she were stating something unrelated to herself.
"But... why? Yinoan, you're so badly hurt. Let me help bandage your wounds..."
Christine's voice was choked with sobs. She was certain that Yinoan remembered her, but Yinoan's attitude made it seem like she didn't, and Christine's tears flowed uncontrollably down her cheeks.
"..."
"Yinoan, don't go. As long as you continue being Yinoan and don't turn back into who you were before, no matter who you used to be, I will accept you as Yinoan and keep you by my side, okay?"
Overwhelmed by her emotions, Christine took two steps closer to Yinoan.
She felt that if she didn't stop her now, she might never see Yinoan again.
The current Yinoan exuded a sense of distance, as if they belonged to different worlds.
"No need. I've already repaid your medicine fee."
Yinoan didn't answer her; she just let the raindrops dampen her hair, covering her forehead.
"Yinoan, I can heal you. I'll buy you the best medicine, and you'll recover soon! Please don't go, okay?"
Christine's tears flowed like a waterfall, and she grasped Yinoan's shoulder with all her might.
"Get off me."
Yinoan pushed Christine away, letting her fall to the ground.
Coldness enveloped her face again, as if she had already severed this fruitless emotional attachment.
"Yinoan!"
Christine cried as she struggled to her feet.
She wanted to grab Yinoan's hand, but she only grasped thin air, and her delicate wrist trembled with sorrow.
Even though Yinoan had saved her and destroyed the contract, wanting to cut ties with them.
Otherwise, if the security agencies of the Kingdom's United Parliament were to find this contract and analyze the magical characteristics on it, the Baptiste family might also be implicated in charges of assisting the Resurrection Church.
"Christine, goodbye."
Yinoan couldn't bear the crying anymore.
She turned, with a faint, enigmatic smile, and then disappeared.
...
In the northern reaches of the devastated city of Bosen Demon Realm, a figure stood amidst the ruins, gazing into the distance as the torrential rain gradually eased into a gentle drizzle, and the sky lightened with the coming dawn.
The tilted giant screen behind him had stopped projecting.
Lanchi's clear, emerald green eyes, like a serene lake, watched quietly, his expression carrying a hint of compassion and fatigue.
(End of Chapter)
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