This was a bold plan worth attempting.
After all, when Sylvia first revealed her Body of Holy Spirit, the Corrupted Hero had shown clear surprise—so she doubted he’d retain memories of this.
But the plan brimmed with uncertainties.
Would the Corrupted Hero even respond to the summoning? Where would he materialize?
Most critically: even if successful, could this one-shot chance truly lift the Hero’s Corrupted State?
If any single uncertainty failed, the plan would collapse—and might hand the Corrupted Hero the perfect opening to kill her.
Sylvia took a deep breath. Inside her, two thoughts clashed violently: risk it, or hold back?
She couldn’t afford recklessness. Failure meant not just her death—but the world’s end.
Then—
As if sensing her fleeting distraction, the Corrupted Hero, who’d been circling silently, vanished without warning.
Not good!
Danger registered instantly—but High-tier Sacred Healing required chanting. Too late.
Divine Ward!
She pivoted defense in a flash, activating the fully cooled invincibility skill without hesitation.
Instant-cast. The moment her will stirred, a nearly transparent shield of holy light shimmered around her.
*Hum…*
The Corrupted Hero’s hand—reaching to choke her—halted mere inches away, sinking into the shield like soft yet resilient sponge.
A cold sweat broke out across Sylvia’s skin.
His combat logic was terrifyingly precise.
*He knew High-tier Sacred Healing needed chanting… so he went straight for my throat. Even the Body of Holy Spirit couldn’t save me then.*
Thankfully, the standoff had cooled Divine Ward just in time. Or she’d be dead.
No slackness allowed against his killing intent.
Before she could counter, the Corrupted Hero—strike failed—vanished in a blink, retreating instantly. Sylvia gritted her teeth.
No.
No more hesitation. Execute the summoning plan. Now.
But how to minimize risks? Distract him first?
Divine Ward lasted only twelve seconds. No time to ponder. Sylvia decided: hurl a high-tier alchemical potion from her Storage Pouch.
But… would a standard potion even register? He’d shrugged off sleeping draughts before.
What about *that* one?
Memory flashed: the blood-red vial dropped by the fleeing Abyssal Lord in the alchemy lab. Unstudied, dangerously potent—surely he wouldn’t ignore it.
Acting fast as invincibility neared its end, she pulled the Blood of Pure Lust from her Storage Pouch and hurled it with all her strength.
A minor explosive enchantment clung to the vial—ready to scatter crimson droplets on command.
Best move she could muster. Now, watch his reaction.
The vial shot toward him. He didn’t dodge.
He sensed its danger—and anticipated the explosion. A hasty dodge might trap him.
*Is she trying to scare me off?*
A faint, calculating smile touched his lips.
Then—
A holy healing array flared beneath his feet. He had to move.
*Worthy opponent…*
In that instant, Sylvia’s status shifted in his mind from prey to rival—a rare honor.
*Pop!*
The moment he dodged the array, Sylvia detonated the vial.
Crimson liquid sprayed skyward. Droplets surged toward him like living things.
*It has this effect too?*
Eyes alight with hope, Sylvia activated the Blink Rune.
*Sizzle…*
Blood of Pure Lust engulfed him—vaporized instantly by searing heat into thick crimson mist.
Yet his expression twisted: surprise, confusion, a trace of bewilderment.
*What is this?*
Perfect chance!
Sylvia cast High-tier Sacred Healing on the spot, then triggered the Blink Rune in her palm.
*Whoosh.*
Still dazed, the Corrupted Hero responded to the summon—and landed squarely within the holy array, just as she’d planned.
Perfect!
Exhilaration flooded Sylvia’s face.
The Corrupted Hero’s features contorted back into fury—but too late.
This time, Sylvia went all in. The healing light intensified relentlessly.
Mana would drain in seconds. But she was betting her life—so she committed everything.
*“Graaahhh…!”*
Bathed in blinding white radiance, the Corrupted Hero threw his head back in utter despair.
Did it work?
*Crackle…! Click… click… click!*
Just as hope sparked, jet-black scales erupted from his skin, clicking into place.
What is this?!
Sylvia stared, horrified, as he transformed into something Abyssal—utterly helpless.
A fleeting stress reaction. But in that window, he unleashed his final strike.
*Boom!*
The magically reinforced floor shattered. They plummeted—one above, one below.
Below, the banquet hall buzzed with guests who’d boarded the royal airship that day.
The crash echoed. Danger registered—but too fast. By the time the pair crashed onto the grand circular table, nobles in formal wear still froze mid-reaction.
The table was clear; dancing had begun.
All eyes locked on the falling pair. Recognition struck—and silence fell.
No one thought to call the royal guards.
“Wh-What… is going on?!”
Kroso, sprawled turtle-like at the table’s center, blinked in utter confusion.
“Hero? Are… are you alright?”
A gentle, familiar voice reached him.
He looked down.
The Archangel—gown shredded, barely covered by undergarments, expression weak yet pitiable, wounds healing rapidly.
What was happening?!
He was pinning a disheveled Archangel beneath him… shirtless… in full public view?
*Clatter…!*
A wine glass shattered.
Toma—mid-conversation with a noblewoman—jaw dropped to impossible limits, face frozen in shock.
No one judged him. Everyone wore the same stunned expression.
Was this a dream?
