The heretics' final stronghold was unexpectedly empty.

The scene she had imagined—where two axe-wielding thugs would leap out the moment the door opened—never happened.

Not only was there no ambush, but as Silphiel walked through several flights of stairs in the underground hideout, the only living creatures she encountered were a few rats.

Torches on the walls flickered, casting the swaying shadows of Silphiel and Rodrika in the breeze from the entrance. Their footsteps echoed endlessly in the hollow space.

“…Rodrika, doesn’t this place seem too empty? Did Sophia get the wrong location?” Silphiel asked, puzzled.

Rodrika, walking behind her, observed the eerie patterns painted on the walls. She shook her head. “Holy Maiden, look—the walls bear the Shadow Sect’s insignia. This is definitely their stronghold.”

“…Could the large-scale cavalry movements have scared them off?”

This stronghold wasn’t marked on the ‘compromise’ map. Silphiel had kept a watchful eye; outwardly, she dismissed the Inquisition’s watchers, but secretly arranged for Sophia to monitor it day and night.

Finally, she had caught them red-handed. If it turned out empty, wouldn’t that be a wasted effort?

Rodrika shook her head, her lavender eyes catching the torchlight. “It shouldn’t be. Sophia’s report and the Knighthood’s mobilization were close in time. They couldn’t have retreated that quickly.”

Silphiel thought Rodrika had a point. She nodded, hefting her large iron hammer, and heightened her vigilance.

Everyone knew the Holy Maiden’s Divine Art skills were strong, but few knew her physical combat abilities were equally formidable. Like the Hero, she had a well-rounded growth pattern—balanced in all aspects.

Even if ambushed suddenly, with preparation, Silphiel wasn’t afraid in the slightest.

“…Holy Maiden, there’s something I want to know. Can you answer me?” Rodrika’s voice came from behind. Silphiel replied casually, “What do you want to know?”

Rodrika hesitated slightly. “Was my father really a heretic?”

Silphiel’s aqua eyes glanced at her. She answered quietly, “Of course. He murdered the previous Pope and tried to kill the divine envoy. It’s common knowledge in the Church. As for other details, Rodrika, you don’t have the right to know yet.”

In other words, this was their bargaining chip; she hadn’t earned it yet.

“…The last heretic told me he’s still alive.”

Silphiel’s eyes flickered slightly. She stopped walking, looked at Rodrika, and sighed softly. “…He is indeed alive.”

Rodrika’s eyes dimmed. This answer was enough; the truth was clear.

The rest of the way, they walked in silence until they reached the bottom—a spacious platform inscribed with a massive magic circle. Opposite it stood another staircase.

During this time, they weren’t ambushed by any heretics. Clearly, the heretics had escaped through the other staircase.

Silphiel was about to give chase when she had to stop. She looked toward the opposite staircase, where two familiar figures stood.

Their killing intent locked onto her simultaneously. She smiled slightly. “Looks like trouble, Rodrika.”

Rodrika nodded, her gaze fixed ahead. “Is that Miss Lelia? So she really is a heretic.”

Besides Lelia stood another ‘old acquaintance.’ This woman fixed her gaze on Silphiel’s face and said coldly, “Silphiel, it’s been six years. You’ve done quite well for yourself.”

Silphiel set her warhammer down at her feet, beaming. “Yes, six years, Instructor. Since you betrayed the Church, I never expected to catch the Lindbergh traitor today—and clean you up along the way.”

“Hmph. Is this how you speak to someone who was like a master to you? Such an ungrateful woman.”

This woman, dressed in the heretics’ signature robe, was none other than Silphiel and Sophia’s combat instructor—the one who had taught fighting skills to them when they were still nuns.

But six years ago, after Bishop Radel’s incident, she vanished. Who would have thought she’d join the Shadow Sect?

Silphiel had no interest in reminiscing. She knew the other was stalling for time.

This meant the heretics hadn’t gone far! It was still time to chase them!

“Instructor Shirley, you’re a heretic now. Your student here is the Holy Maiden, revered by thousands. Fate is cruel. I must uphold justice, even against family. Please don’t blame me.”

Silphiel gazed at her, wearing a warm smile.

There was no trace of feeling cruel fate in her expression.

Instead, she seemed excited. This woman was an unexpected prize! Capturing her would be a great achievement—and erase some of her own hidden past.

Why not?

Shirley looked at Silphiel, shaking her head with a sigh. “Silphiel, you haven’t changed. Among all my past students, you were the only one I couldn’t see through. Whose side are you really on?”

“You should understand. Gregory’s blasphemous acts—he doesn’t deserve that position! What do you truly worship above the idol?”

Silphiel spread her hands, still smiling. “I don’t understand, Instructor Shirley. I just follow orders. His Holiness the Pope thinks deeply; he says you’re a heretic, so you are.”

“Does that make sense to you?”

“Will you still aid the tyrant?” Shirley sighed deeply. “And this Hero summoning—the Goddess never gave such a divine revelation!”

Silphiel shook her head. “I’ve said it—I don’t understand these things. This student only knows one thing: winners become kings, losers become bandits. You chose the wrong side in the battle for the Papal throne.”

Shirley’s expression turned stern. She finally understood completely—reasoning with Silphiel was pointless. She knew the truth yet continued to aid the oppressor!

The Holy Maiden herself was faithless! What a grave sin!?

“…I have nothing more to say, Silphiel. You play nicely with this traitor. I’d love to see the fight between traitors to the end.”

With that, Shirley turned and ran toward the other staircase.

Silphiel sneered. “Trying to run? Instructor, how naive of you!”

A radiant light shone from Silphiel, the abundant holy power making her seem bathed in sunlight. But just before she could act, Lelia—who had been ignored by Silphiel—suddenly let out a beast-like roar.

In a flash, she charged almost instantly to Silphiel’s face. Her fist, carrying a whooshing wind and unbelievable weight, struck toward Silphiel’s head.

Silphiel was startled; she raised her warhammer to block.

With a deafening boom, the clash of their forces caused an explosion-like sound. The shockwave pushed both back simultaneously.

Silphiel stared at Lelia in shock. That direct clash had ended in a stalemate?!

How was this possible?

Lelia’s level should have been clearly inferior to hers!

She watched Shirley fleeing up the stairs at lightning speed and shouted to Rodrika beside her, “Rodrika, chase her! Don’t let that woman escape! And absolutely don’t believe her nonsense—she’s best at bewitching hearts with it! Don’t listen!”

Rodrika responded and chased after Shirley.

Once Rodrika and Shirley were far away,

Silphiel finally noticed something was wrong with Lelia opposite her. Her body was wrapped in an eerie blue flame. Despite her terrifying aura, tears streamed down her face, and her expression was filled with despair.

“…Holy Maiden, save me! I don’t want to die! That woman used a soul sacrifice on me. If we keep fighting, I’ll die for sure.”