“How’s that? Are you impressed, Moen?”

Banshee chuckled softly, her face tinged with a faint blush that carried a touch of Sari’s gentle shyness.

“This is exactly what you wanted, right? Me saying something straight from the heart.”

“Such honesty truly moves me deeply.”

Moen watched the seemingly casual way Banshee opened up her own abdomen, suppressing the nausea bubbling up inside himself. He forced a faint smile onto his face, feigning indifference.

“Still, I get the feeling that Miss Banshee isn’t quite loyal enough to the moon.”

“Oh? Not loyal enough?”

“How about offering up your brain as well? Why keep that thing around just to disgust people?”

“Ha-ha! Hearing such a suggestion from you, Moen, makes me genuinely happy. Seems my failed plan wasn’t entirely failed after all.”

Banshee shot Moen a flirtatious wink and said with a playful pout, “Too bad though, this brain of mine… I need it for something very important.”

“Indeed, it's come in quite handy. First having your ‘father’ sacrificed, then having your subordinates be the cannon fodder, and finally even willingly approaching me and letting me land a few strikes to vent my frustration.”

Moen smirked lightly. "Such generosity—it’s one of the few things capable of warming me in this never-ending cold night."

“You—”

Even though her body lacked a heart, Banshee seemed genuinely struck in her heart by Moen’s words. Past humiliations flashed vividly through her memory, causing her enchanting face to suddenly twist into a grotesque scowl. Her alluring aura transformed instantly into bone-chilling killing intent.

But sudden bursts of strong emotions often lead to brief moments of sluggish reactions.

Moen had been waiting for this fleeting lapse.

In an instant.

A thunderous sound echoed through the air, like lightning smashing down out of nowhere.

The downpour was turned into countless tiny beads of water by the shockwave, dispersing into a misty haze that obscured visibility.

Within that moment, Moen’s already tensed body, having been primed to act, sprang forward like a hunting predator.

**Shadow Step.**

**Tenfold Time Deceleration.**

As Moen’s figure burst through the haze masking their view, Banshee still seemed too caught off guard to react. Her expression froze, appearing dazed under the effects of time deceleration.

Moen left her with no chance to defend herself.

His target: her brain.

The icy gleam of his blade slashed forth, a deadly arc condensing into a strike set to kill.

Banshee appeared utterly unable to evade.

But—

Just as Moen saw his blade about to reach Banshee’s revolting, overly coquettish face, an alarm suddenly exploded in his mind. A fierce sense of danger roared to life!

The survival instincts honed through countless deaths in the Black Book's spatial dimension fired up once more. Without hesitation, Moen shifted his moves abruptly, tilting his head aside to dodge.

Sure enough, in that exact moment, another crescent-shaped curved blade swept forth—piercing through the back of Banshee’s skull and aiming directly for Moen’s face!

Moen broke into a cold sweat.

Had he not dodged in time, he’d have been carved up into pieces!

His gaze focused sharply as he looked towards the source of the attack behind Banshee. What he saw startled him—

It was… another Banshee?

“Well now, isn’t that strange?”

Seeing Moen narrowly avoid the fatal strike, the second Banshee’s face betrayed a hint of regret. Yet, she quickly shrugged it off nonchalantly, playfully twirling the blade in her hands.

The pierced-through figure of the first Banshee deflated like a balloon, dissolving into a thin, hollowed-out skin.

“Shed skin?” Moen’s eyes narrowed sharply, retreating several steps without the slightest hesitation.

When had this happened?

Or could it be…

Was the first one fake from the very beginning?

“Snakes shedding their skin—it’s perfectly normal, wouldn’t you agree?”

The second Banshee giggled coyly, her lithe, boneless body suddenly arching downward.

That’s when Moen noticed her lower half hidden in the shadows—a thick, coiled tail instead of legs!

Only then did he recall that she was also a **Serpentine**. And now, with her tail coiled tightly in preparation...

She was about to strike!

In a flash, the Banshee transformed into a blinding shadow, darting forward like a venomous snake lunging at prey. Even with tenfold time deceleration, her speed remained astonishing.

No time to dodge—only to block!

Moen crossed his twin daggers, clashing directly with her crescent-shaped curved blades.

**Clang—**

The clash of metal echoed deafeningly.

Moen staggered backward, each step cracking the stone tiles beneath him. A bitter taste rose in his throat, his chest heaving violently as the circulation of his combat energy faltered momentarily.

Glancing down at his slightly trembling hands, Moen’s heart sank.

Such immense power!

During their previous skirmish, Banshee hadn’t felt nearly this imposing. Had revealing her true form allowed her to unleash her full potential?

“Well, Moen… you never cease to surprise me!”

Banshee’s face was now partly covered in scales, giving off a chilling aura. Witnessing Moen barely managing to hold his ground against her attack, a flicker of astonishment crossed her eyes—before quickly devolving into mockery.

“To think you could directly resist my serpent-empowered strike. Your physical durability rivals that of someone at the third tier! And that sudden burst of speed earlier—was it magic? Martial technique? Or perhaps a special artifact? I couldn’t quite catch the casting action.”

“Nothing remarkable,” Moen replied, forcing a grin despite being pushed to his limit. “Though I must admit, I can’t quite replicate your little transformation trick—turning yourself into half human, half monster. Otherwise, who knows, I might’ve smashed your brain to bits already.”

“You seem particularly repulsed by my form.”

“Of course. Anyone who sees you like this would feel sick to their stomach.” Moen answered matter-of-factly.

Banshee, despite the insult, didn't seem offended. Instead, she broke into joyful laughter, the bitter frustration from Moen’s earlier words melting away.

“Hate me if you will, oh yes, hate me more!”

Banshee teased, delighted, but then her tone shifted slightly darker.

“I suddenly feel reluctant to kill you. How fun it’d be to watch you clutching that disgust in your heart while meeting your precious senior.”

“What are you talking about?” Moen’s eyes narrowed sharply.

“Too bad. At this critical juncture, I obviously can’t let you disrupt the Moon’s plans.”

Banshee extended her forked tongue, licking at the edge of her crescent blade.

“So I’ll simply finish you… here and now.”

“Quite confident, aren’t you?” Moen scoffed. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

“Haha, this isn’t confidence, dear Moen. It’s **power**.”

Banshee slithered about with her serpent tail, circling Moen as though leisurely evaluating prey.

“You think I’m just chatting idly with you, don’t you, Moen Campbell?”

“What do you mean?”

“Because,” Banshee giggled, revealing the full weight of her growing menace, “from moments ago, I’ve confirmed that your precious little gadgets... have been completely drained. If they hadn’t, your safest move would've been stuffing one of those alchemical bombs into my belly.

From this brief duel, I’ve also roughly gauged your capabilities—even that sudden burst of acceleration, your ace card. It’s no longer a secret to me now.

So as for you—a noble son with no magic skills, a body that rivals a third-tier fighter but with a realm actually stuck at second-tier, relying on gimmicks to stumble your way forward…”

At that moment, Banshee unleashed her long-suppressed aura. The pressure it exerted surged and climbed, reaching a level that made Moen’s eyelids twitch uncontrollably.

Rearing her snake-like form high above him, her gaze carried an amused cruelty, as though eyeing an insect.

“How will you deal with *me*, a monster who, under the Moon’s blessing, wields power at the pinnacle of tier three—on the edge of tier four?”