Mog looked on at the rising flames without a ripple of emotion.
His pupils were fully consumed by crimson fire, and at the center of that blaze, a black ring slowly spun, etched with densely packed runes.
He needed to confirm whether Li Wen was dead—only then could he feel at ease.
And so, the Pastor stepped into the sea of fire.
The unending flames did not attack him.
Instead, they bowed before his feet.
Under the blistering heat and turbulent pull, the Pastor’s shadow stretched and warped behind him, becoming grotesque—like the phantom of a vengeful spirit.
The once-holy church had already begun to crumble.
With the infernal fire devouring everything, even stone was beginning to melt.
At this rate, soon nothing would remain but a charred ruin.
But Pastor Mog saw no trace of Li Wen.
That absence gnawed at him with unease.
In the very next moment, that unease became reality—a stark white arc of holy light sliced through the blazing fire, reaching him in an instant.
In that hairbreadth of a second, Mog only had time to raise his hand, trying to block the light before it could sever his neck.
Unbearable pain tore through flesh and bone.
His palm bled profusely, but fortunately, the arc of light had not managed to cut clean through.
All flash, no substance.
Pastor Mog looked coldly toward the direction the arc had come from.
There, wreathed in flame, stood a girl cloaked in black.
Her cloak shimmered with green starlight, insulating her from the fire and heat.
Only with it could she conceal herself in the blaze and strike.
Seeing that her spellless arc of light had failed, Li Wen didn’t appear surprised.
“I thought you’d hold back longer,” she said with mocking calm.
“Didn’t expect you to lose patience so soon.”
Mog—no, the demon whose true name was Tirlogzach—wasn’t one to fall for provocation.
“If not for Siswell’s orders, you would have died on the first day.”
“Oh?”
Li Wen was intrigued.
What mistake had she made that made him want to kill her?
After all, back then, he had still been an unknown Dark Dawn infiltrator.
Was it because of the Path of Light?
That was the only reason she could think of.
Tirlogzach, however, had no intention of explaining.
Time was short.
As a demon contracted with Siswell, he had to obey his commands—one of which was to not act rashly.
If the Kingdom’s Inspection Bureau caught wind of anything, all of Dark Dawn’s groundwork in the Black Dragon Territory could be exposed.
That would be a far greater threat.
But today was different.
He had found a loophole in the contract, and it was Night Without Light—when the powers of darkness surged, a time when demons like him were at their strongest.
Today was his only chance to kill Li Wen.
That damned human dared impersonate a Dark Dawn operative and deceive him—and she even knew his true name.
If he hadn’t tested her with the Path of Light and sensed something off, he might still be in the dark.
He swore she could not be allowed to live.
A demon’s true name was part of its contract.
If someone else learned it, they could command the demon.
Tirlogzach’s true name should have been known only to Siswell.
But Siswell had no reason to give it away.
What’s more, when Tirlogzach used the idiots of the Church to send Li Wen away during the Sacred Rite, he’d already contacted Siswell.
Today, Siswell gave his answer—Li Wen was not a member of Dark Dawn.
Siswell had only one operative in the Black Dragon Territory.
“You really are cursed,” the demon said bitterly.
“If you ruin Siswell’s great work, I’ll pay the price too—even if you die.”
Tirlogzach didn’t know how far along his terrifying ritual had progressed, nor what its exact purpose was.
He had to test her strength.
The fire beneath his feet crept obediently toward him.
In the language of demons, Tirlogzach chanted a spell.
The flames surged and formed into a massive serpent over three meters tall.
“Flames, my servants!” he roared.
The fire serpent had three heads, entirely crimson, each with two pairs of eyes and four horns.
From their mouths and nostrils, sparks flared with every breath.
Li Wen had already cast Prayer of Tongues on herself.
Though intimidating, the three-headed serpent was just a showy construct.
Against a prepared mage—even a first-stage one like Li Wen—it posed no real threat.
But Tirlogzach wasn’t just a mage.
He was a real demon.
Demons came in two types: the first were ancient entities from the Inferno, immensely powerful but unable to enter the human world except by possession—and even then, only limited by the vessel’s strength.
The second were beings who had fallen from grace, their former abilities determining their power as demons.
Li Wen didn’t know which kind Tirlogzach was.
All she knew was that he could turn a grand cathedral into a sea of flames in seconds.
That alone put him well beyond first stage.
Typically, there was an unbridgeable chasm between first and second-stage transcendents.
In the first stage, the body remained mortal.
In the second, the essence of life transformed.
But that was just “typically.”
Li Wen had already completed her ritual and ascended as a Witch’s Attendant.
What that meant in this battle remained to be seen.
By now, the fire serpent was bearing down on her.
It hissed, tongues flickering, and spewed fireballs at her.
Li Wen didn’t flinch.
A few swift feints took her cleanly out of the serpent’s clumsy line of fire.
But the creature took advantage of the moment to close in.
All three massive jaws lunged at her at once.
A wave of blistering heat hit her face.
Li Wen twisted aside, gripping her Bone-Eroding Dagger, and with one fluid motion, dodged the leftmost head and sliced the other two clean off.
The two severed heads crumbled into flame, the whole serpent dissolving back into embers.
Tirlogzach’s expression remained unchanged.
He pulled out a curved goat horn and stabbed it toward Li Wen’s shadow.
Her body trembled violently, as if jolted by electricity.
In an instant, black runes surged across her right arm and the left side of her body—where she held the Bone-Eroding Dagger—bringing with them searing pain.
A curse!
Manipulating fire and welding courses—these were hallmarks of demons from the Inferno.
Her shield from Prayer of Tongues was still active, but Li Wen had already lost 25% of her life force.
Before she could even register what curse it was—
Tirlogzach’s cold voice came again.
“You weak human. What gives you the right to defy death?”
The demon raised both hands high, and the surrounding flames surged with eerie life, forming into grotesque creatures.
But they were never meant to be combatants—only sacrifices.
Tirlogzach began chanting a long incantation, plunging the goat horn into his own body.
Each summoned beast let out a wail before collapsing into flame.
But the blood-red liquid they left behind remained, spreading like tangled roots—like veins of some dark ritual circle.
Pain stabbed through Li Wen’s chest.
Her heart was crushed in an invisible grip, unable to beat.
Then, in the next instant, the force tightened beyond reason—
And her heart exploded, like a balloon pumped past its limits.