“Pwah—!”
It felt like diving into the deep sea, then resurfacing.
White Li opened her mouth wide and greedily inhaled the air.
The suffocating sensation in her lungs finally began to recede, replaced by a fiery stinging pain.
Each breath felt like a knife scraping inside her chest, but it was fine—as long as she could breathe, it meant she was still alive.
She lay on the ground, hands propped against the cold stone slabs, gasping heavily.
Her silver-white hair spilled down, covering half her face. Her tail hung limply behind her, the tip twitching slightly.
‘Damn it, always like this.’
When she traveled through that lump of shadow, her lungs felt like they’d been shoved into a cement mixer—stuffy and painful, unable to even scream.
She swore that next time, she’d rather climb over the wall than crawl through the shadow, even though next time she’d probably have to crawl through it anyway.
White Li panted for a while before slowly lifting her head.
Candlelight flickered; the flames in the fireplace cast wavering shadows on the walls.
The vaulted ceiling was high, and the pillars on either side extended into the depths of the darkness.
This was the familiar hall—the Starfall Society’s branch. Madam’s stone throne was not far ahead.
White Li wanted nothing more than to kneel on the ground like Andy in The Shawshank Redemption, spreading his arms in the rain, and shout to the heavens,
“I’m free!”
But she held back, because she saw the person on the throne.
Madam was leaning against the stone seat, one hand propping up her cheek. Her half silver mask glowed faintly under the candlelight.
Those violet eyes were fixed on White Li, who was lying on the ground, and the corner of her mouth carried a hint of an ambiguous smile.
“You’re back?”
White Li pushed herself up from the ground, her knees a little weak and unsteady.
She patted the dust off her clothes, shook her tail behind her a couple of times to make herself look less ragged.
“I’m back, Madam.”
Her voice was still a bit hoarse.
Madam didn’t respond. She raised her chin slightly, her gaze falling on the shrinking shadow behind White Li.
Martha emerged from the darkness, her nun’s robe trailing on the floor.
In her hand, she held the scruff of the yellow-haired monster’s neck. That massive body felt as light as a dead cat in her grip.
The yellow-haired monster was drenched in blood, his right arm severed cleanly from the shoulder, blood still dripping steadily.
His eyes were tightly shut, his breathing weak.
Madam frowned and waved her hand.
“Drag him away. Tend to his wounds. Don’t let him die here.”
Martha gave a slight nod, then dragged the yellow-haired monster back into the shadows.
The hall grew quiet, save for the crackling of firewood in the fireplace.
Madam withdrew her gaze and looked back at White Li, tapping her fingers twice on the armrest of the throne.
“Tell me. What did you gain during this time?”
‘Just as I thought!’
White Li swallowed, her mind racing.
Luckily, she’d already thought it over while panting in the hall.
“The Blazing Knight… has a new form.”
She dropped the most important piece of information first.
Madam’s fingers paused.
“Oh?”
She sat up straight, her eyes brightening.
“Give me the details.”
White Li took a deep breath and recounted everything that had happened earlier.
“I encountered him in the Dream Meng Mo’s dream,” White Li gestured. “He was completely black—every inch from head to toe was black. Just from his stance, you could tell he was terrifyingly strong.”
“But that state didn’t seem to have much reason. It could only perform the simplest linear attacks…”
Madam fell silent for a while after hearing this, then leaned back into her chair.
“Interesting,” she said softly. “It seems the little knight has quite a few secrets.”
“Speaking of which, has Meng Mo been here before?”
“Yes,” White Li replied quickly. “I met her a few times, but I don’t know if she’s alive or dead.”
“Unknown means dead.”
Madam waved her hand.
“Meng Mo type monsters are hard to cooperate with anyway.”
White Li lowered her head, twisting the hem of her clothes with her fingers behind her back.
“Is there something else?”
Madam noticed White Li’s unease and spoke.
“There’s… there’s one more thing,” White Li lifted her head, her tone becoming cautious. “That yellow-haired monster… that weapon on his arm—what was that about?”
Madam raised an eyebrow, signaling White Li to continue.
“And,” White Li’s voice dropped even lower, “when I was being escorted, he didn’t seem like he came to rescue me. He kept attacking me, swinging his claws straight at me several times. It was more like…”
White Li paused, looking into Madam’s eyes.
“More like he came to kill me.”
The temperature in the hall seemed to drop a few degrees. The flames in the fireplace wavered.
Madam raised her hand and clapped lightly.
“Martha.”
Shadows surged from the corner of the wall, coalescing into a tall figure.
Martha stood below the throne, slightly bowing her head, expressionless.
“Were you aware of what White Li just said?”
Madam’s voice was still languid, but White Li could sense an accusatory tone.
Martha was silent for a moment, then spoke:
“It was my idea.”
“Huh?!”
White Li’s eyes went wide. She’d imagined many possibilities—that the yellow-haired monster had acted on his own, that someone she didn’t know had given the order, that it was even Madam’s intention…
But she never expected Martha to admit it so bluntly.
“Why?”
Madam’s voice was flat.
Martha raised her head, glanced at White Li, and spoke coldly.
“She was captured. The shelter has interrogation methods, ways to pry information out of her. She knows too much.”
She paused, then continued:
“If she leaks secrets, we’re all finished. So I sent the yellow-haired monster to silence her. Whether she talked or not, a dead person can’t talk.”
White Li was so angry that the fur on her tail bristled.
“How could I ever leak secrets?!”
Her ears stood straight up.
“I was locked up for two and a half days and didn’t say a single word. Even when the Blazing Knight came to pry information out of me, I bit my tongue and said nothing! What right do you have to doubt my loyalty?!”
Martha didn’t respond to her. She stood expressionless to the side.
White Li wanted to keep cursing, but Madam raised her hand to stop her.
“Enough.”
Madam stood up from the throne, her long dress trailing as she slowly descended the stone steps.
She walked up to White Li, looking down at her. In her eyes, White Li’s furious face was reflected.
“You say you’re loyal,” Madam said softly. “Then prove it to me.”
She drew a short knife from her person and held it out to White Li.
“Kill her,” Madam tilted her chin toward Martha. “Prove your loyalty.”
“Huh?”
White Li froze. She looked down at the knife, then up at Martha.
Martha stood still, unmoving. She didn’t beg for mercy, didn’t step back. Her face showed no expression.
“A usurper who acts on her own, bypassing me to give orders—has no reason to exist.”
Madam pushed the knife closer, signaling White Li to take it.
White Li’s hands trembled as she reached out and grasped the hilt.
The cold metal pressed against her palm, sending a slight shiver through her.
She gripped the hilt tightly, the blade pointing downward, hanging by her side.
White Li swallowed, then walked toward Martha.
……