1065  Forced Entry

As soon as The Hermit card appeared in Cattleya’s hand, it seemed to emit a glossy light.

At the same time, outside the warlock’s tower, in the mist shrouding Avalon’s sky, a star began to shine in broad daylight, growing brighter and brighter until it was dazzling to the eye.

In an instant, a figure emerged from that star.

It was Madam Magician, wearing a deep black warlock’s robe embroidered with twinkling silver stars.

Using the mystical connection provided by The Hermit, she forcibly located and tore open a gate to Avalon.

After The Hermit Cattleya gained free access to Avalon, The Magician could actually have broken in using a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact from the Abraham family. After all, this place was merely created by Torriope using Mystical Re-enactment, not granted by the Hidden Sage—how could it stop a high-sequence Door pathway Beyonder who could enter with or without doors?

But the Moses Ascetic Order was an ancient organization with at least two Angels and multiple Grade 0 and Grade 1 Sealed Artifacts. At that time, even with the combined strength of the Tarot Club, the Church of The Fool, the New City of Silver, and New Moon City, they could at best fight them to a draw. Moreover, the enemy had the Hidden Sage’s protection while The Fool was not yet awake, so the Major Arcana card holders didn’t act rashly but waited patiently.

Today, the opportunity had come.

Mr. Fool and the other deities were responsible for dealing with the Hidden Sage—the most difficult part was how to find and lock onto the target without letting Him escape. Meanwhile, the Tarot Club and friendly forces were tasked with attacking the Moses Ascetic Order headquarters to eliminate all the Beyonders who had been deeply influenced or even corrupted by the Hidden Sage.

Of course, the Tarot Club and the Church of The Fool hadn’t deployed all their High-Sequence Beyonders—they needed to guard against enemy forces and evil god cults taking advantage of Mr. Fool’s personal hunt to launch surprise attacks on places like the New City of Silver. For Angels like Suah of the Rose School of Thought, winning wasn’t important; what mattered was whether they could cause damage, which would shake The Fool’s anchors.

Miss Messenger and Mr. Pallez must remain in the Rorsted Archipelago…

Will and Mr. Azik won’t participate in this kind of thing…

Only I can take action, but fortunately, allies will provide help…

In a flash, numerous thoughts crossed The Magician’s mind, finally converging into one: But I still have manuscripts to submit…

Her sigh didn’t affect her actions as she stepped to The Hermit’s side in one motion.

The fact that only she had appeared so far didn’t mean she was the only Angel arriving—she was just faster, the first to reach here.

In Madam Magician’s eyes, starlight suddenly gathered, seeming to condense into a book.

Immediately after, a giant sword composed of orange-red twilight light materialized out of thin air, piercing through the void to strike the masked dark gold statue.

The Twilight Sword then shattered, transforming into countless orange-red shards of light that tore apart everything around them, cutting all objects to pieces, causing them to decay until they collapsed.

The three dark gold statues were the first to be affected. In the storm of twilight light, they quickly broke into tiny fragments, each piece dim and rusty, as if washed by the passage of endless time or having reached its twilight years.

In the hall, the walls, floor, and ceiling covered in strange cold eyes dissolved in the orange-red storm, sliding down inch by inch before shattering.

This void also collapsed.

But Madam Magician had already switched positions, flashing multiple images of herself, surrounding herself and Ma’am Hermit with layer after layer of protection.

There were cages bearing a sense of holiness and glory, and darkness curved into spheres. By the time they shattered, the orange-red Hurricane of Light had completely subsided.

As the hall atop the warlock’s tower collapsed in ruins, another scene entered The Hermit Cattleya’s eyes.

This was a long, deep tunnel leading to an unknown destination. The tunnel was wide, seemingly composed of connected rooms. In the current room, more than a dozen High-Sequence Warlocks were busy with their own tasks.

This space seemed to be a reflection of the warlock’s tower, another side of Avalon, a secret area The Hermit had no way to enter.

It had been forcibly opened by The Magician using the Hurricane of Light created by the Twilight Sword and the positioning ability of the Grade 0 Sealed Artifact.

Madam Magician didn’t delay, dropping a mirror before disappearing from the spot with Ma’am Hermit, flashing toward the depths of this dark tunnel.

Before the thrown mirror could hit the ground, Lumian and Jenna, wearing black warlock robes but with their hoods down, emerged from it.

10:37

The warlocks in this room had just awakened from their previous concentration, all turning their gazes toward them.

Some were consuming dead infants, some were using infants to make potions, some were extracting infant fat to apply to objects—various such activities, all utilizing newborns to complete witchcraft, potions, or mystical items.

Wh— Lumian raised an eyebrow.

Although in folktales, warlocks were often associated with killing infants and children, and some strange, inhumanly cruel witchcraft preparations, Lumian knew this wasn’t actually mainstream for the Warlock pathway.

Were there warlocks who did such things, were there similar witchcraft practices? Of course there were, but definitely not many.

Who would have thought that within the Moses Ascetic Order, which emphasized morals and precepts, emphasizing the maxim “do as you wish, but do no harm,” there would be so many warlocks doing such things in Avalon’s dark side.

Of course, what surprised Lumian wasn’t the Moses Ascetic Order’s fall from grace—that had been confirmed long ago. Otherwise, the Moses Ascetic Order wouldn’t have transformed from a respected society with good relations with various Churches into an evil, shadowy secret organization.

What astonished him was how deeply ingrained the practice of utilizing infant corpses had become in the Moses Ascetic Order—this couldn’t have developed in just a year or two.

And infants inevitably made him think of birth—of mothers.

Was the Hidden Sage’s mutation really related to the Great Mother? Had this practice started when She brought evil and corruption to the Moses Ascetic Order? Utilizing birth and death? Lumian tilted his head, looking at Jenna, whose expression changed from shock to anger, and quickly said, “This place is yours.”

He then flashed toward the depths of the wide, dark tunnel.

His mission wasn’t here.

The reason Jenna participated in this operation was because Lumian believed the role of a Demoness of Despair could also be fulfilled through combat, through killing, through destruction.

A Demoness who brought despair!

Jenna wouldn’t participate in the battles deep within Avalon, mainly focusing on clearing out the corrupt low and mid-sequence warlocks, bringing them despair. In this process, if she encountered a Saint, or even two or three Saints, with a Demoness of Despair’s survival abilities, she might not win, but death was unlikely.

The warlocks in the current room had already realized enemies had invaded, some preparing to cast spells, some taking advantage of their materials, some trying to bring out their mystical items—none retreated.

What excellent materials!

Their eyes burned with madness and greed as they looked at Jenna.

The angry Jenna suddenly smiled, as if light had entered this somewhat dark world.

All those warlocks of different sequences were stunned for a moment, unable to carry out their intended actions in time.

Almost simultaneously, they felt the cold.

A layer of frost formed on the surface of their bodies, their hair, and the tables themselves where infant corpses and various materials were laid out.

They began to shiver, their joints stiffening, their movements becoming obviously labored and difficult.

Then, one crystalline ice spear after another shot out from in front of Jenna, accurately piercing each wrlock’s body, pinning them to the walls or floor, their blood seeping out and freezing.

The warlocks tried to resist, but not only were their bodies frozen, they were also bound and affected by invisible spider silk, making it difficult to take effective action.

Jenna didn’t kill them immediately, letting the mystical plague spread simultaneously with her Charm freely erode these fallen ones, making them clearly feel their lungs tightening, their heads burning, and their life slipping away.

They began to despair.

The Magician pursued in a wandering manner, leaving even The Hermit behind.

Finally, ignoring other enemies along the way, she reached a desolate, boundless plain.

Torriope, wearing a black hood and warlock’s robe, seemed to be in the depths of the wilderness.

He gazed into the distance at Madam Magician and raised His right palm.

An illusory figure was quickly sketched in the endless wilderness.

This was a spell derived from Mystical Re-enactment.

As an Angel who advanced in the middle to late Fourth Epoch, although Torriope wasn’t a founding member who established the Moses Ascetic Order, he had lived for over a thousand years, witnessed many mystical events, mastered much mystical knowledge, and through this created several powerful spells.

With the core ability of Mystical Re-enactment, Beyonders of the Mystery Pryer pathway could indeed potentially live longer and grow stronger.

However, because too many people knew about major events like the War of the Four Emperors and the Pale Disaster, Torriope couldn’t draw power from them to create spells that would be considered terrifying even at the Angel level, and could only choose second-rate ones.

As soon as that illusory figure in the wilderness solidified, bloody chunks of flesh began falling continuously from its body.

Each piece of bloody flesh turned into a cold, emotionless eye, and they quickly looked toward Madam Magician, emanating an aura of chaos, madness, and evil.

This was a spell Torriope created from the strange death of one of the Moses Ascetic Order’s founders: “Loss of Control Gaze”!

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