The priest’s mouth hung agape, drool trickling down his chin.

Liang Lin yanked his jaw out of socket, then seized his hair and slammed his head against the floor again and again—until the medicine pouch popped free from his mouth and clattered to the ground.

Dazed and bleeding, a swollen lump bloomed on his forehead.

Yikes. Brutal.

Liang Di covered her eyes—but peeked through wide finger gaps.

“Talk! Speak up! Where are the girls?”

Tears welled in the priest’s eyes as he mumbled incoherently, unable to form a word.

*Slap!* Liang Lin struck hard—a tooth loosened instantly.

“Still got backbone, huh? Would rather die than talk? Even under torture?”

“Mmm… mmm… mmm…” Garbled sounds escaped his throat.

Another slap. A tooth flew—spinning midair—before hitting the floor.

“Playing dumb with me?!”

“…Liang Lin. You forgot to pop his jaw back in.”

“…”

Silence fell.

*Ahem.*

Liang Lin blushed, coughing to hide her fluster.

*Pop.*

His jaw clicked back into place.

“Speak,” Liang Di said calmly. She’d already sensed it—the priest wasn’t the mastermind. “Talk, and we guarantee you live.”

He pressed his lips into a tight, pale line.

“I know you’re just a pawn. Threatened? Or promised something?”

Her words struck true. His resolve wavered—a trace of doubt flickering in his eyes.

“I swear: lead us to the girls now, and you won’t hang. All victims are commoners—no nobles. In this era, common lives are cheap. At worst? Years—maybe decades—in Sotran Empire prison. Not death.”

Liang Di’s voice softened, coaxing. “Help us… that’s making amends. With a few words from me and the knight order, your sentence gets reduced.”

The priest’s shoulders slumped. “R-Really?”

“Really.”

Her tone was pure sincerity—so convincing even Liang Lin whispered, “Is that true?”

“Idiot,” Liang Di hissed under her breath, “he’d never talk otherwise.”

“Oh… good.”

*Scum like him doesn’t deserve hanging? Then this world’s already broken.*

“Trust us, Father. We’re nobles of the knight order. One word saves you. And *her*—” she nudged Liang Lin—“our order’s finest swordswoman. Your master can’t touch you with her here.”

Liang Lin straightened proudly. “Ah, right. I *am* the best.”

This time, no lie.

“O-Okay… I’ll talk,” the priest stammered, glancing around. “Come closer… I’m scared…”

They leaned in.

“The girls… hidden beneath the church. Twist the statue’s arm—a secret door opens.”

“And the needle marks? Why their blood?”

“B-Baron Bart’s wife… Lady Rita… demanded it.”

Liang Di hummed softly. “I’ve heard rumors: young girls’ blood preserves youth. Just a myth… but she believed it, didn’t she?”

“I don’t know details! We just supplied blood. No one dared ask what she used it for.”

“So… the assault marks on the girls? Was that you too?” Liang Di’s question dropped like ice.

Liang Lin shot her a stunned look—*she never mentioned this!*

The priest stammered. “T-They did it! Not me! I’m a priest! How could I—”

“TRUTH!” Liang Lin grabbed his collar.

Trembling at the memory of her slaps, he broke.

“I did it too! I did!” Snot and tears streamed as he sobbed, twisting himself into the victim. “I’m just a man… those girls… stripped bare during blood draws… pale skin… I couldn’t control myself! It’s not my fau—*gurgle*!”

*Slice.*

Liang Lin slit his throat with a small knife.

“You’re the rottenest trash in the Sotran Empire. No—trash is too kind.” She wiped the blade clean on his face, expression chillingly calm.

He thrashed like a beached fish, eyes wide with terror. Blood bubbled from his mouth—again and again—staining the white floor crimson.

“What are you doing?!” Liang Di seized her wrist.

Liang Lin shook free.

“What use is scum like him? Less useful than a fallen leaf. For him, death is his only value.”

Liang Di sighed. “I’m not blaming you. I wanted him as a meat shield downstairs. Let him walk first, take the hits.”

*Huh… she’s got a point.*

Watching the priest twitch, Liang Di added, “Even alive, he’d hang. You were too hasty.”

“No. Not the same.” Liang Lin kicked him, a sinister laugh curling her lips—a sound that sent chills deep into the bone. “Hanging’s too quick. A brief struggle. But this? I cut shallow. He’ll bleed… and bleed… feel every second of his life slipping away… *That’s* punishment.”

“Sometimes death is mercy. A painful death? Never.”

Her smile twisted like a corrupted painting—beauty warped into something dark, eerie, utterly sinister.