Lelia certainly didn’t want to go!

But refusing might raise Silphiel’s suspicions.

Lelia believed her public persona was that of someone desperate to avenge her beloved old butler—murdered by heretics—someone who loathed heretics with every fiber of her being!

So not only could she not show reluctance, she had to feign genuine interest.

The smile on Lelia’s lips looked strained to Silphiel: "Thank you, Holy Maiden. These heretics truly deserve death."

Escorted by guards, the trio arrived at the pyre-strewn execution ground before the cemetery. Members of the Heretic Inquisitor Corps buzzed about like they were hosting a roasting party. The stench of charred flesh hung thick and acrid in the air.

Silphiel noticed Gao Ying’s brow furrow. Predictable. As a transmigrator, disapproval of medieval torture methods was only natural.

As for Lelia walking beside her—her expression caught between wanting to laugh and being unable to—Silphiel guessed this woman was nearing her breaking point.

The more she tormented this wretched bitch, the better Silphiel felt.

*Hmph. Who told you to lay hands on my Hero? This is your consequence!*

Screams rose and fell. Seeing Gao Ying and Silphiel approach, several Heretic Inquisitors halted their interrogations, stepped forward, and bowed: "Holy Maiden! Hero!"

Silphiel offered a gentle smile. "Lord Van Helsing, any progress interrogating the heretics?"

The brown-haired, bespectacled young man addressed as Van Helsing—Grace’s capable deputy—shook his head with visible regret. "Apologies, Holy Maiden. Nothing. They’re all madmen. Not even a flicker of emotion watching comrades burn alive to cinders."

Silphiel gazed at the blackened corpses, her face softening with pity. "...Though their souls cannot reach heaven, allow me to offer them a final prayer."

Her hypocritical mercy made Gao Ying feel physically ill. Lelia’s delicate brows knotted instantly.

Had he not known Silphiel’s true nature beforehand, Gao Ying might have been fooled by her act too—just like those Inquisitors.

Swallowing his discomfort, Gao Ying asked carefully, "...Forgive my ignorance. The Church constantly speaks of heretics, yet beyond their attempt to assassinate me, I know nothing of them. What atrocities have they committed?"

Silphiel wasn’t surprised by his question. Smiling, she explained, "There are many kinds of heretics, but nowadays ‘heretic’ usually refers to the Shadow Sect."

She paused, shooting Lelia a meaningful glance before her smile widened. "These heretics are despicable. They worship what is essentially the same deity as our Holy See—merely under a different name—yet they twist the truth. They claim *their* god is the true sovereign of the Luminous Pantheon, while our Goddess is an imposter!"

"Utter nonsense! More and more ignorant people fall for their lies. The Holy See has endured enough. They deserve death!"

Finishing her speech, Silphiel’s cheeks flushed, her breath coming heavier as she puffed with righteous anger.

From a clergy’s perspective, these faith-shattering heretics were indeed detestable. Yet Gao Ying realized something else: the Holy See couldn’t be universally beloved. Otherwise, how could a group like the Shadow Sect—whose members faced execution if caught—persist despite relentless purges?

Their cohesion was terrifying. Only a truly compelling cause could explain it.

*Could I use these heretics... to get back at Silphiel?* Gao Ying pondered darkly.

After Silphiel’s theatrical prayer for the heretics’ souls, the Holy Maiden sweetly suggested Lelia might enjoy lighting the pyre herself. "A perfect chance to avenge your loved one!"

Lelia initially refused, but Silphiel’s suspicious gaze pinned her down.

As a devout believer, as scion of a noble Holy Capital family—how could she hesitate to execute heretics to defend the Goddess’s glory? It would be unthinkable.

Pressured by Silphiel, Lelia finally set the pyre ablaze, sending the condemned on their way.

Her hatred for Silphiel deepened. The look she fixed on the Holy Maiden was no different from that of a daughter staring at her father’s murderer.

Gao Ying noticed the venomous tension between the two women. *Good. The plan is working.* It was time to set the final stage.

He could hardly wait to taste the sweet fruit of revenge.

The day passed pleasantly enough. After parting ways with Gao Ying, Silphiel returned to purging traitors within the Holy Capital. Lelia, heavy-hearted, retreated to her family’s echoing, empty mansion.

Ever since the accident six years ago, her clan had fallen into ruin. The estate now felt like a hollow shell.

Walking its silent halls, Lelia heard only her own footsteps reverberating.

The night wasn’t cold, yet a bone-deep chill seeped into her.

After her master and senior brother’s arrests, the mansion had grown even more desolate—like a ghost house.

*All because of the Holy See!*

Lelia believed this fiercely. She felt profound gratitude toward the Shadow Sect for teaching her martial arts and guiding her vengeance.

But her hands were already stained.

Stained with a comrade’s blood. Unwashable. Though executing them had been a desperate necessity, Lelia couldn’t forgive herself.

*Are Master and Senior Brother truly unharmed?*

When she struck them, she’d deliberately aimed slightly off-target. They’d only entered suspended animation—not true death.

During the day, while with Silphiel, Lelia had covertly observed the Shadow Sect’s raided meeting houses. All were in the slums. Only the last one—in the noble district—remained untouched.

*If they survived, they must be there!*

Lelia knew staying put was safest. Yet anxiety gnawed at her, demanding she check on them.

Driven by this need, she waited until deep night. Cloaked in black, she slipped out through the mansion’s back gate, sticking to deserted alleyways.

Unseen by Lelia, a pair of moonlit eyes watched from the shadows outside the estate.

Sofia—member of the Battle Nun Corps and one of Gao Ying’s maids—was no frontline fighter like Elise or Stella. But as a scout, surveillance was her specialty.

She remembered Gao Ying’s order: *Report any movement at the Lindbergh estate immediately.*

Trained since childhood like living weapons, Battle Nuns obeyed without question.

The night wind stirred Sofia’s dark hair as she melted into the darkness behind Lelia. The noblewoman never noticed the silent shadow tailing her.