Though long suspected, there was no solid proof. Under such circumstances, Leona could have denied everything, at worst receiving a lashing and exile for assaulting a prison guard. Yet she chose to confess now—stunning both Redfang Castle and the bishop.

"Bishop!" the bishop thundered. "Do you realize that admitting this shameful affair with this woman condemns you to the same stoning as her?"

"I know."

"You could have escaped execution! Why confess?" the bishop demanded.

"Because my love for my sister is pure—not something shameful! If I stayed silent now, wouldn’t that mean I agree our love is wrong? We harm no one. We simply love each other. We—are not wrong! Even if we die today under this cruel, ignorant punishment... it only proves the world itself is wrong!" Leona’s frail body radiated fearless resolve, her face serene and sacred as she spoke her truth.

"Nonsense!" The bishop jabbed a finger at her. "Leona Xialian, your words alone warrant death! But considering you may have been bewitched by this sorceress, I offer one last chance: confess your sins and repent! Do this, and we might spare your life!"

"What meaning is there in a world without my sister?" Leona turned away before the bishop could pronounce sentence, walking toward the sandy execution ground—likely chosen for easy blood cleanup.

Kneeling beside Esther, Leona tenderly traced the blood seeping through her sister’s blindfold.

"Sister... does it hurt?"

The bishop watched, pounding his chest in disgust. "Stubborn heretics! Leona, your soul is now wholly corrupted by this witch! Execute them!"

A burly guard fitted Leona with a black hood before retreating.

Though blinded, the sisters huddled close, whispering.

"I’m sorry, Leona. I’ve doomed you."

"No... I was the one who first spoke to you, Sister..."

"Are you afraid?"

"...Yes."

"I’m afraid too... Ah!"

The first stone flew—a village thug’s throw. Esther cried out in pain.

"Sister! Mmph—" Leona’s wail choked into a sob behind her hood.

*Thwack!* Two stones struck Leona’s back.

"Sister, it hurts... I don’t want to die..."

"Leona... I’m terrified too. I don’t want to die either. But there’s no escape now. The gods have abandoned us."

"Even those I protected... those you healed... now join the executioners..."

"Don’t say it, Leona! This world has cast us out!"

"It’s not us who are wrong—it’s this world—*Ah!* It hurts! *Sob*..."

Two. Three. Four... Villagers moved like puppets, hurling stones that rained down on the huddled girls.

Suddenly, Leona jerked her head wildly, tearing her mouth free from the hood. Blood dripped from her lips as she gasped toward the sky:

"Kuroti Lombein Aryan the Sixteenth! Great Sovereign of the Undercity! I offer you my soul—*save us!*"

***Vvvvvvvvv—***

The sky darkened.

Above, black storm clouds churned and swallowed the sun, as if darkness itself had descended.

Golden barriers shimmered around Esther and Leona, deflecting every stone.

A Level 5 Holy Knight’s shield—how could mere peasants’ rocks even ripple its surface? Stones pelted down like hail, vanishing against the light.

Blindfolded, the sisters felt the strange energy enveloping them. They clung together, bewildered.

"What in blazes?!" Lord Lombe surged to his feet, gaping at the apocalyptic sky and the golden shields.

"Who?! Who protects them?!" the bishop shrieked, scanning the crowd.

"Could it be... a god?" Lombe’s legs trembled as he stared at the doomsday sky.

"*Ahahahahaha!*" A girl’s arrogant laughter cut through the panic.

Villagers, shaken back to their senses by the unnatural darkness, trembled with guilt. They instinctively parted, clearing a path as if driven by primal dread.

I stepped forward in plain apprentice sorceress robes, a tall black-clad swordswoman trailing behind me.

I glanced up at the storm and smiled faintly. Just a simple spell from my memories—I hadn’t expected such dramatic flair.

"Who—*who are you*?!" the bishop sputtered, still unable to link this girl to the cataclysm overhead.

Ignoring him, I strode toward the sisters. With a flick of my wrist, a black whirlwind materialized. It pierced the golden barriers effortlessly, shredding their hoods without harming a hair on their heads.

Blinking in the sudden light, Esther and Leona stared at the golden shields, then at me and Fayin.

I stepped closer, hands clasped behind my cloak, surveying them like a queen inspecting servants:

"Mortal women. Though demons are oathbreakers, I never lie to girls abandoned by the gods. Before I decide your fate, answer this: Do you believe in—*the justice of darkness*?"

Sensing my power, Esther kissed Leona’s forehead and lifted her chin.

"I am a witch—a corrupter of men, a wielder of forbidden magic. If the light blinds justice... I’d rather grope in darkness. Even if I bleed from every wound... at least there, truth remains. *May my heart embrace the deep dark!*"

"*May my heart embrace the deep dark,*" Leona echoed.

The oath of surrender to the Undercity’s shadow.

"*Hmm.*" A cold smile touched my lips as I extended a pale hand. "*Then by the judgment of darkness, I declare you—innocent.*"

"*Heh heh heh... Hnnghahaha!*" I burst into laughter, hands on hips.

"Insolent brat!" The bishop jabbed a shaking finger. "Who raised this lawless fool?! Name your house! Your father!"

Only then did I glance at him. Pushing back my black bangs, golden light flared in my eyes.

"My father? The Demon King of the Abyss—a sovereign older than this continent itself. And I—" I spread my arms, cloak swirling. "*Am Kuroti Lombein Aryan the Sixteenth. The Dungeon Princess.*"