Euphemia drew the Silver Sword at her waist and pointed it at the Demon Hunt members before the cell. "First volley, fire!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Chaotic gunfire erupted in the narrow corridor, instantly cutting down the struggling Demon Hunt members in the center and shattering their desperate resolve.
"No... no! Euphemia, we surrender!"
Without a word, Euphemia coldly issued the next command. "Second volley, fire!"
No hesitation. After the first circle fell, she proceeded with the second round.
Then came the third volley.
Bang! Bang! No chance to breathe or explain.
In this overwhelming situation, close combat against desperate men was unnecessary.
After the third volley, the suppressed Demon Hunt members realized the Pride Witch’s side had no intention of sparing them.
They raised their weapons and charged toward Euphemia’s exit.
Annette collapsed to her knees in despair, her eyes turning dull and lifeless.
"Gone... gone... all dead again..."
When the familiar red mist filled the corridor, she knew they were all destined to die here.
She had always been the Pride Witch’s trap for them.
"Fourth volley, fire!"
Before they reached her, Euphemia exploited the firearms’ advantage. Though she saw them as pitiful weaklings, it was the Pride Witch’s order. She had to obey.
After the fourth volley, few survived.
Then, a sharp sword thrust straight for Euphemia’s neck after she casually deflected one attacker.
Instinctively, she raised her blade, deflecting it upward.
In an instant, the two swords clashed like a whirlwind.
The golden and white figures collided.
Euphemia blocked the blade before her and commanded emotionlessly, "Advance."
The seemingly equal fight quickly turned against the white-clad youth. Euphemia’s swordplay grew effortless.
She soon gained the upper hand.
Witt faced mounting pressure, large beads of sweat dripping from his brow.
He had heard of the Radiant Sword Saint’s fame, but facing her revealed the vast gap.
Even so, he couldn’t fall here. Even knowing escape was impossible.
"Radiant Sword Saint Euphemia!" Witt swung his sword with effort, roaring.
No words. Euphemia responded only with unstoppable swordsmanship and a cold gaze.
"Is it worth being a dog for the Pride Witch?"
"You’ll meet no good end. You’ll end up like me..."
"When she no longer needs you, she’ll discard you! Demon Hunt will hunt her down!"
Thud! A clean strike with the sword hilt. The white-clad youth crumpled.
Euphemia sheathed her Silver Sword.
She looked down at Witt.
"Someday, but not now."
She acknowledged his talent, but he had reached his end. He’d been a dead man since entering the seventh base.
Such wasted potential was a pity.
The corridor narrowed as the guards advanced steadily.
Fallen bodies were swallowed by their march. Those who still fought back received only merciless shots. None broke through the front-line shields.
Within ten minutes, all Demon Hunt rescuers lay in the corridor. Annette knelt in the middle, staring blankly.
"Regroup. Guard outside. No one enters without my order."
The guards vanished swiftly.
Only Euphemia, Annette, and Helena remained. Helena emerged from the red mist.
Euphemia looked at her. "Don’t go too far."
Then she turned away, walking toward the corridor’s left end.
Around the corner, Euphemia leaned against the wall, sliding down to sit.
The coming massacre would haunt her forever.
Helena glanced at the fallen bodies and the empty corridor. A strange smile appeared.
She skipped to the white-clad youth, grabbed his sword, and ran to Annette.
Laughing, she seized Annette’s hand.
"What... what are you doing?!" Annette had no strength to resist.
Helena forced her hand to grip Witt’s sword.
Pointing the blade at the nearest neck, Helena smiled casually. "Killing."
"No, no... no!!!" Annette screamed as hot blood splattered her face.
"Yes, yes. Mommy says you must kill everyone yourself... Good children listen. You should learn to be good. Mommy hates bad children."
"Come, next one... How about that one? Oh, you choose this? Starting here is fine."
"No... please, don’t, I..."
"Next one..." *Slice!*
"No! Ah!"
"Next one... Fainted? No, Annette, you can’t stop yet..." The red mist revived her quickly.
"I..."
"Next one..." "Next one..." "Next one......"
...
The girl’s joyful laughter mixed with desperate cries and the clear sound of blades cutting flesh. Euphemia understood.
The hopeless slaughter had begun.
Her stomach churned. Even accustomed to killing, she nearly vomited.
Euphemia’s order was simple but agonizing: defeat all Demon Hunt rescuers, then hand over to Helena.
Helena’s task was to make Annette kill them all herself, not one spared.
This wasn’t just killing on command. Annette had to do it slowly, killing her former comrades.
Even killing mere colleagues would be hard; these were people she’d lived with daily.
This would truly drive her to madness.
The Pride Witch, who devised this, was a demon walking from hell...
If Euphemia betrayed her in the future, would she kill her own sister?
She couldn’t deny the possibility, but the answer might be crueller than she thought.
She believed the Pride Witch was far more ruthless.
Even so, Euphemia despised this act. She couldn’t agree with it.
