"Sister Noah... Where Are You?"

While Ledyah fought a do-or-die battle to prove herself, the white-cloaked little girl Isaac had already slipped through the city walls into the Demon King's Castle. She began searching for Sister Noah.

The Demon King's Castle clung to the mountainside, covering a third of the Demon Capital Irusil.

Every night, the Demon King's royal guard patrolled the grounds with lanterns. They were the most elite soldiers and knights in the Demon Race's nation—a trump card the Demon King rarely used.

Skilled at solo infiltration and hiding her presence, Isaac chose rugged paths to avoid detection. Height meant nothing to her. She scaled walls with ease, flipped over ledges, and leaped onto buildings dozens of meters high.

After just minutes of observation, Isaac spotted gaps in the guards' patrols. She used them to inch closer to the central Demon King's Palace.

"Sister Noah... would she be locked in the dungeon? Or kept as a prized captive in a special room?" Isaac's delicate brows furrowed slightly as she pondered where she'd imprison the Healing Saintess if she were the Demon King.

Earlier, she'd eavesdropped on garrison soldiers. They knew the Demon King had captured the Healing Saintess as a trophy—but none knew her exact whereabouts. Even well-connected figures seemed clueless about her location.

Isaac had considered ambushing a soldier for answers. Her skills made assassinating a few royal guards trivial. But the castle's night patrol system was flawless. If a lantern suddenly went out, troops would swarm the spot instantly. Isaac couldn't afford that much attention. She had to proceed step by step.

So far, things were smooth. The castle's barrier hadn't triggered. The royal guards stayed quiet. Isaac clenched her tiny, pale fist and flipped into the palace corridor.

The central Demon King's Palace resembled a fortress—with halls, corridors, and countless rooms. Inside, the barrier dulled Isaac's senses further. She'd have to rely on instinct to find Noah now.

Her sapphire eyes glowed with an eerie light. To Isaac, the world shifted. Flowing blue lines and clustered, stagnant points became visible—revealing everything.

This was Isaac's "Origin-Flow Demon Eye." It pierced through barriers and senses, exposing both impure filth and pure holiness. It also weakened an enemy's strengths and exposed their weaknesses.

The beautiful, shifting lines in her vision were channels of energy—the strongest points of any object. But slicing along them with a blade would shatter even the toughest defenses. Like muscle fibers or blood vessels, they were also the most fragile.

Isaac had used this to slay many church enemies, earning her the title "Life-Hunting Saintess."

Gripping the gun and blades hidden under her cloak, Isaac pressed her lips tight. She crept forward like a cat, avoiding traps and making no sound.

It felt... too quiet.

Since entering the palace, all noise had vanished. No patrolling guards. No maids. The castle seemed utterly empty—as if no one had ever lived here.

Isaac froze. Her razor-sharp instincts screamed not to take another step.

Ahead, at the corridor's bend, lurked something alien and terrifying.

The blue-stone scythe unfolded from her cloak into a long polearm. Isaac shifted into a fighting stance, ready for the ambush.

She didn't know how she'd been exposed. Her cloak's camouflage should have hidden her from Tower Knights and the barrier. But this enemy had lain in wait.

Realizing his trap was sprung, the ambushers stepped into view. Black armor clung to his form like fish or dragon scales. Metal whispered with each limb movement. A massive curved greatsword hung on his back. He crouched on all fours like a spider—or a beast built to hunt prey.

One of the Demon King's Four Knights... the Hunting Knight!

Isaac dared not relax. She recognized this monstrous knight who moved like a wild animal. His fearsome reputation was well-known.

He specialized in slaughtering demons, the Demon Race, humans, and Holy Knights. Among the four knights, he dominated close-quarters ambushes.

Legends said he was descended from demon wolves. He fought on pure instinct, his claws and sword blending speed and power to shred foes in the dark like a specter.

The Hunting Knight gripped his curved blade. Isaac bared her scythe's edge. Their eyes locked—the signal for battle.

No words were needed between assassins. Only weapons would speak.

Clang!

Isaac gritted her teeth as her slender scythe met his heavy greatsword. The impact numbed her palms.

She lost the first clash.

As the Life-Hunting Saintess and a high-ranking heretic inquisitor, Isaac relied on speed and agility. Her Demon Eye let her slice through armor and flesh effortlessly. But the Hunting Knight surpassed her in speed, strength, weight, and resilience.

In close combat, he was a near-perfect warrior.

Isaac had aimed for the "line" on his shoulder—but he countered with overwhelming force.

Wiser now, she avoided direct strikes. She danced around him, using her mobility to survive.

The Hunting Knight advanced steadily. His footwork and power shrank her space with each step.

Every clash made Isaac's small frame tremble slightly. Even if she tried to flee, his sword wind sealed her escape.

Huff... huff...

After mere dozens of exchanges, Isaac was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath.