Under the evening light, the Crystal Theatre glimmered. A sea of people gradually walked out of its exit. Iris sauntered at a luxurious pace, allowing her attendants to relax. They chatted between themselves while admiring the view, both from the architecture and the people.

“Lady Iris, should I try to find them?” Lorient said.

“We should respect their wish to remain anonymous.”

Before she left the Crystal Theatre, she contacted the Faceless Hall about the seller of the broken vessel and the Helix Pin. The two items came from the same person.

The Faceless Hall only knew that the seller’s title was the Sea Nightmare, a being who moved unhindered in the Moonlight Sea. Their name, their appearance, and their gender were all unknown. Iris had to go to Yilon Archipelago to seek them.

“This matter doesn’t concern The Court,” Iris said. “We shall return to our hideout. I’m sure you all are getting tired from various intense activities.”

The Monster Girls smirked. As they giggled among themselves, Secain and Lorient lowered their heads. Their eyes met each other’s and then simultaneously averted their gazes. They peeked at Iris, who walked in front of them, composed without a hint of fluster. What happened inside the veiled room didn’t discomfort her, or she was exceptionally good at hiding her emotions.

In any case, she bested the two despite their teaming up. Her talent and perseverance weren’t only for her magic training.

While the attendants climbed up their carriages, Iris turned around to the Crystal Theatre. Her eyes peered through the thick crowd, landing on a group of Beastkins, the Suppression Sect.

Holding a delicate chest in her hands, Kasbin nodded at Iris. The two connected their gazes for a few seconds before they smiled.

Iris returned her attention to the carriage. The rest of the Monster Girls had already entered their carriages. Their lovely parade surrounded the most magnificent carriage, which only Iris, Secain, and Lorient could enter.

“Lady Iris, the carriage is ready,” Secain said.

Lorient opened the door and pulled down the steps. She held her right hand toward Iris, her left hand pressing on her back.

“You look better after relieving your stress.” Iris took Lorient’s hand and ascended the carriage.

“All thanks to your help, Lady Iris.”

As Secain followed Iris into the carriage, she stuck out her tongue at Lorient. In this contest, she wouldn’t lose!

Lorient didn’t intend to give up either. Iris had given her much, and she must repay her, even if Iris wished for her body. She wanted Iris to take her body as payment. It would be wonderful, too wonderful.

“Lady Iris, the carriage is soundproof, and the curtain is impenetrable,” Secain said. “Should we . . . continue?”

Lorient’s breathing quickened. “I . . . don’t mind if it’s your wish. The bodyguard must satisfy her mistress, physically and emotionally.”

Iris sank into her cushioned seat while staring at the two opposite her. Their reddened, determined faces revealed their competitive spirits, and Iris loved them for it. Being desirable, especially to those two lovely ladies, excited her. She wanted them to fight harder, yearn more intensely, and love tenderer.

“Is once not enough?” Iris vaguely smiled. “I gave you bliss, but you couldn’t handle it.”

“We got caught off-guard. You never used your tendrils like . . . that before.” Secain sucked in a cold puff of air, yet her chest heated up.

“I only have two hands.” Iris reached for her two lovers, each hand stroking their cheek. “Your expressions still haunted me. They are arts worth preserving.”

“We can give you more material.” Lorient tensed up.

Iris narrowed her eyes. She scrutinised her partners’ exposed skins, veiled only by the thinnest propriety. Despite her burning desire, she shook her head. Her unwillingness to give up escaped from her as a sigh.

“I’d love to take your offer. No, I’d offer you two the chance if not for our current circumstance.” Iris raised her head. “The carriage might seal us from the outside, but it cannot protect us.”

Lorient frowned. Her hands reached for the sword on her waist. “I’ll protect you, Lady Iris.”

As Secain took out a purple-tinted dagger, her figure melted into the shadow of the carriage. Killing intents lingered where she previously sat.

“Do you remember the survivor of Broken Wing of Freedom?” Iris said. “Not only him, but other Evil Cults are coming for us.”

“They couldn’t have known we owned the Helix Pin,” Lorient said.

“It isn’t about the Helix Pin; it’s about the grudge as well as the broken vessel.”

“Why would they attack us and not the Suppression Sect?”

“They’ll be attacking the Suppression Sect, too, but they won’t be able to snatch the item. The leader of the Suppression Sect is too powerful.”

“We are no pushover, too!”

“I might be the weakest senior member, but the price to defeat me isn’t something a hastily organized operation can afford.”

Iris tapped the carriage’s ceiling. Golden light gushed out of her fingertip and melted through the ceiling, shooting skyward. As it cut through the air, its sparks morphed into strings of unknown scriptures and incomprehensible prayers. They gathered around the trail of holy light, illuminating the dusk shadow.

Overwhelmed by the radiance, the concealment spell disintegrated. Groups of hooded figures revealed themselves atop the terraced houses enclosing the street. They glared at the carriages of the Court of Indulgence, their breathing turning violent.

The leader of the nearest group drew out his right hand and clenched it. Tens of illusory eyeballs manifested around him. They gawked at Iris, their gazes akin to a mountain pressing down her shoulders.

Her gaze meeting theirs, Iris smiled. She swung her outreached hand groundward. The floating characters connected, forming sentences, then paragraphs, chaining into a single form. The chain of holiness hung in the sky like a sacred judgement. Its holy aura filled the atmosphere, threatening to annihilate all evil.

Under the purification, the eyeballs madly struggled before exploding into puddles of blood.

The leader’s hand trembled, and the eye in his palm snapped open, bleeding out. His arm blackened, wrinkles appearing on his decaying flesh. He gritted his teeth while black blood seeped out of his mouth.

“No need to hide, believers of Masolis,” Iris said. “You can mask your appearance, but you can never mask your horrid smell. It’s almost as hideous as your eyes.”

The carriage train came to a halt. Iris drew her hands to the side, revealing her unprotected figure. Though she was on the low ground, her presence permeated the area and stifled all wickedness. Her pressure looked down on the cultists, pressing their heads down.

They weren’t looking down at her. They were bowing before her.

As Iris’s words fell, Lorient bent her legs, tensed her arms, and jumped off the carriage. Her silhouette traversed the air, her destination at the top of the building. Following her ascension, other Court members cast their spells or brandished their weapons. So what if their enemies were the cultists? The Court of Indulgence never feared servants of the Deities who hid from the world!

The cultists grunted, some jumping down, some retreating, others going mad with bloodlust. Only the leader of Eye of Masolis remained still, staring at Iris. Despite his withering arm, he expressed no pain.

“You stand before his eyes,” he said.

“Tell him to show his face!” Iris raised her hands.

Her feet rose from the ground, her clothes rustling. A pair of pure-white wings emerged from her back. Their length spanned her height, raining down her soft feathers everywhere. Her corrupted aura disappeared, replaced by the holy air of a devotee, the sacredness of a Holy Maiden.

She swung her wings. Her figure flew upward. Dusk light glittered on her clothes and feathers, decorating her appearance with orange shades. She turned her hands to face the ground and lowered them slowly. The clouds surrounding her turned golden, and a torrent of holy light poured down.

Unlike the orthodox Holy Power, Iris’s Holy Power, fused with her Corruption Power, hurt not her friends. It gently caressed The Court members, healing their fatigue, and harmed the cultists, oppressing their flow of magic.

The hooded leader widened his eyes. His hands drew a few symbols, creating a series of lines which intertwined into a sealing net. It enveloped his body, fending off the aura of purification. As his Evil Power waned, his body slowly deteriorated.

“Impossible! How could you use your power without triggering The Grand Formation?”

Iris silently pointed at the hooded leader. The chain of holy texts surrounding her assembled into a giant guardian wielding a holy sword. Standing behind Iris, he stared at the sinner and swung his blade. It crackled through the air, landing on the all-sealing net.

Along with a torrent of purifying light, the energy blast levelled the rooftop. The hooded man groaned and retreated. Blood oozed out of his mouth, eyes, and ears. A dagger appeared in his right hand, and he stabbed his chest with it.

Countless eyes grew on his body, mutating his rotten skin into pitch-black pus. Bright red light peeked out of his wounds, flooding the sky, clashing against the holy light and the energy wave. An evil aura leaked out of his concealment, but he forced it down before it could trigger any reaction.

Iris raised her right hand. She was about to deliver her judgement when another hooded figure on the ground flung himself toward her. His pupils, boiling with anger, created a maddening killing intent that overcame his self-restraint.

He bit his left hand, drinking his blood. His body mutated, arms growing out of his back, tentacles out of his torso. His eyes turned white while his skin developed scales. Like a mindless beast, he roared away his sanity.

“Die with me, Corrupted Ones!” His shrill voice resounded throughout the street, spreading waves of evil aura. “I’ll drag you to hell!”

Iris looked at his pitiful figure and frowned. The guardian behind her shifted his target. His sword gradually descended, its unstoppable momentum dominating everything.

The monster, the survivor of the Broken Wing of Freedom, shrieked with the hoarsest voice he could produce. His limbs punched at the holy sword, shuddered, and splattered like blood balloons. His unholy blood flooded the clouds, thrown around by the hurricane created by the sword swing.

His bisected head spun in the air. His gory eyes stared at Iris, his mouth forming a wicked smile. He didn’t defend himself; he didn’t intend to live. He wished for his death to grant him sweet relief and for his destruction to bring forth a reaction of The Grand Formation!

The Monster Girls held their breaths as the evil aura drowned the street. They restricted their powers to avoid The Grand Formation. Even the cultists temporarily ceased their assaults.

Innumerable lines emerged from the ground, connecting into a massive formation, whose size spanned the street, its neighbours, and the entire Donhalgen. Mighty force descended, crackling the fabric of reality, aiming to vanquish all anomalies.

For a moment, the fight stopped, and everyone retracted their powers.

Everyone except Iris.