In moments like this, if Sylvia were just a widely acknowledged total weakling, the Hero would sweep in to save the damsel in distress. Thanks to his plot armor, he’d barely defeat the foe, grind a massive XP haul, and win her heart. Within chapters, they’d be living a blissfully shameless life together.

But Sylvia was humanity’s undisputed strongest warrior. How could the young Hero possibly step in? Even if she tried to surrender herself now, he wouldn’t believe her for a second.

And how could she possibly offer herself up?!

Yet fighting now meant certain defeat. Sylvia remembered this plot all too well. This demon lord was the Abyss’s infamous chief torturer. After capturing the Archangel alive, his very first session would shatter the pure-as-snow Archangel’s psyche. Worse—he’d then toss Sylvia to his underlings for more torment. The resulting CG cutscene was too gruesome to bear watching.

The thought of this inhuman fate unfolding on her sent a chill down Sylvia’s spine.

Hero! Do something already!

“Archangel!”

A sudden shout shattered the tense silence, startling everyone.

Anxiously pacing, Sylvia turned—only to see a nun. Her hope dimmed slightly.

“What is it?”

“I bear something of utmost importance to deliver to you personally!”

The nun was middle-aged. Her habit differed from the others’, marking clear seniority.

Sylvia had ignored such minor NPCs while gaming. She couldn’t recall the nun’s name—only a faint familiarity.

Seeing the nun’s face glowing with devout reverence, a flicker of hope sparked in Sylvia’s heart.

Had she forgotten a crucial plot point?

Yes!

An unexpected event!

Back in-game, even weakened, the Archangel nearly escaped capture thanks to several surprise triggers. Sylvia couldn’t recall the exact prompts—rushed as she was to push the main quest—but they *had* to exist here too. She must seize this lifeline!

“Come forward.”

Nursing eager hope, Sylvia nodded.

Could it be a powerful divine artifact?

At the Archangel’s permission, the nun’s face lit with pious joy. She hurried forward on respectful tiny steps, reaching Sylvia swiftly.

“What could it be?”

Watching the nun reach into her robes, Sylvia’s anticipation swelled.

“Hah!”

The moment Sylvia glanced down, the nun let out a bizarre cry. A cold gleam shot from her hand like lightning. Her devout expression twisted into pure malice, mouth splitting into a grotesque grin!

Caught off guard, Sylvia’s breath hitched. She sensed danger the instant the gleam flashed—but weakened, she couldn’t dodge.

“Thud!”

Steel pierced flesh. The nun’s hands had morphed into pitch-black blades. A point-blank stab plunged straight into Sylvia’s body!

Yet no grievous wound came—not even pain. The Body of Holy Spirit’s passive activated the moment steel entered. Holy healing cells swarmed the injury, sealing bloodflow and encasing the blades. No matter how hard the demonified nun yanked, they wouldn’t budge.

The horrifying scene froze most nuns in shock. Only Kroso, after a stunned beat, roared and charged sword-first to rescue her.

But before he reached the steps, an immense force blasted the demonified nun away. The blades inside Sylvia shattered, melted, vaporized—instantly. Even the wounds sealed clean. No trace remained. A true miracle.

Yet Sylvia’s vision darkened. On her status panel, [Poisoned] flashed in bold, trembling blood-red font—impossibly conspicuous.

The Body of Holy Spirit healed only physical wounds. To purge the poison required immense magic for a high-tier Holy Healing spell… but her magic reserves were long gone.

As consciousness blurred, despair clawed at Sylvia.

What about the unexpected event? What about the surprise?

Sure, it was unexpected—but all shock, zero joy!

Mole!!!

Damn you!

At this critical moment, how could she forget *this* pivotal character? In-game, the Archangel’s capture succeeded *because* of this mole! She’d been far too careless!

Game over…

Now she couldn’t even muster a token struggle. Would she wake up eyes rolled back, lying right on the Abyssal demon lord’s belly?

Please… no…

With absolute regret and anguish, Sylvia’s mind plunged into darkness.

————————————

“Eeeeeeek…!”

Nearly cut in half by Kroso’s blade, the demonified nun shrieked. Kroso ignored her, charging to check on Sylvia.

“How is the Archangel?”

Seeing the girl’s pale, unconscious form, Kroso’s brows shot up. How could a low-level mole’s ambush wound the Archangel so severely?

“Hehehe… Tremble! Despair! The poison in your Archangel could kill every soul in the Holy City! Even at peak strength, she’s doomed! Wahahaha—urk!”

Cackling at the humans’ helpless panic, the fallen nun was silenced mid-laugh—Kroso’s return strike severed her throat. Her head spun far into the dust.

Having slain the demonic mole, Kroso felt no relief. Frowning deeply, he watched nuns swarm the Archangel with emergency aid. This incident… it might decide the entire war between humanity and the Abyss.

He’d long suspected a traitor after the Seventh Land Legion’s ambush. Now—a mole planted beside the Archangel, lurking undetected for who knew how long, striking only at the perfect moment… A cold dread coiled in his chest.

Just how deeply had the Abyss infiltrated humanity this time?