Farci’s emerald eyes flickered. Her gaze cut through Iris’s disguise and landed on her Slime Girl appearance.

“Once you accept our offer,” she said, “The Order will serve you as it has served me. Is this not what you want, power you can wield at your own discretion?”

Iris’s shadow bubbled. From it, Secain rose. She stood in front of her mistress. Her hands gripped a pair of purple-tinted daggers, trembling. She looked at other assassins, all of whom no weaker than her, and at Farci, who glanced at her.

Secain shivered, her legs going weak. That gaze grabbed and yanked her vision. Its bloodlust clutched her heart, seized her body, and assaulted her mind. Her face paled; she covered her mouth and coughed, blood seeping between her fingers, but she refused to back down.

For behind her was her mistress.

“Anyone who wants to harm Mistress will not be spared,” she said. “Order Leader, you might’ve given me a second chance, but you also tortured me and sent me to death.”

“If I knew you were going to become a Master, I wouldn’t have sent you to The Court. No matter. If your mistress wishes so, The Order will welcome you back. Don’t you want to return to your colleague?”

“Besides Mistress is where I shall be.”

Lorient held her sword with her right hand and grabbed its blade with her left. As she slid her palm across it, her leaf-green Corrupted Power etched symbols on it, turning it glimmering.

“Mistress’s entrusted upon me the role of her guard. No one can touch her without passing through me,” she said.

Farci covered her mouth and laughed. “It hasn’t been long since you appeared, yet you’ve already charmed two Masters.”

“I didn’t get them; they come to me.” Iris grabbed her two attendants’ shoulders and pulled them behind her. “I’m fortunate to have parts of me deemed worthy of them.”

“Every part of yours is priceless, Mistress,” Secain said. “Not just the two of us, but everyone’s willing to answer your call.”

Iris shook her head. “Are you confident, Farci?”

“My intel found you lacking, but you’ve escaped from Mother, although it was just an echo of her will. I can’t compare to Mother’s transcendental might, but I’m confident in my manipulation.”

The surrounding Master Assassins placed their hands on their sheathed weapons, waiting for their leader’s signal. Farci flicked her wrist, pulling back the decree, and swung her hand groundward.

A purple-tinted dagger slipped out of her sleeve and pierced the ground.

Secain drew back her left hand, but the dagger in it had vanished. She clenched her left hand, her fingernails stabbing her palm. She couldn’t feel anything, not even the slightest gush of wind. Sweats formed on her face, which paled before regaining its determination.

If her death could bring an instant of safety for her mistress, she wouldn’t hesitate.

Iris narrowed her eyes. She drew her hand to her side, blocking Secain from rushing onward. Such speed, even Iris herself could only glimpse a blurry flicker.

Farci was even stronger than the Tower Guardian, and she was willing to kill.

“Are you threatening me?” Iris said.

“I am.” Farci licked her fangs. “Mother pays too much attention to you. I’m quite jealous. What did she see in you that I don’t have?”

“Are you to ruin her plan?”

“I would never. I’ll only test you a little, enough to see your quality. Let’s start with your left hand.”

Iris swung her right hand to her left. An icy needle shot out of her cloth. She grabbed it and thrust it forward. It grazed an invisible hand, which brushed against Iris’s left hand. Farci’s fingernail grazed Iris’s wrist, tracing a thin circular wound.

Iris shouted a monosyllable word. A massive shockwave flashed and shattered the concrete ground and stores in front of her.

The shockwave vanished as quickly as it appeared. When Iris closed her mouth, Farci had already returned to her place, though her tight uniform became messy, exposing bits of her fair skin.

“Swift in motion, decisive in execution.” Farci touched the back of her left hand. A tint of wintry blue invaded her flesh. “You’re the third Master to ever match my speed. How humiliating.”

Iris exhaled. She looked at her left hand. Putrid green patches infected it. She gently shook her hand, and it cleanly fell off. It landed on the broken ground, dissolving into a boiling puddle of toxin whose intensity melted even stones and gems.

Lorient and Secain blinked. They couldn’t even sense anything. They wanted to step between their mistress and Farci, but in this fight, they were merely statues to dance around.

They would only hinder their mistress.

“I’ll leave those assassins to you two,” Iris said. “You won’t disappoint your mistress, will you?”

“Never!” The two returned to their usual mood and nodded. They glared at their enemies, their inadequate feeling burned to ember by their fighting spirit.

The assassins unsheathed their blades. They jumped from the buildings, rushed out of the alleys, sneaked through the stores, and aimed their weapons at their two enemies. Secain and Lorient cried out for their mistress and stepped into a fierce battle.

In the middle of the encirclement, where not a single assassin dared to trespass, Iris faced Farci. She channelled her Corruption Power to her amputated arm and regrew her hand, but the persisting toxin raged against the regeneration.

“How troublesome,” she said.

“Terminal Life Poison, prepared just for you, Iris. It’s made to overpower your kind’s regenerative physique.”

“How bad would it be if I were to perish by the poison?”

“You’re too powerful to—”

Iris grinned. She pierced her neck with her right hand and sliced it apart from her body. Her Corruption Power erupted at her left arm. Terminal Life Poison greedily devoured it and spread farther into her torso, her breasts, and her abdomen, reaching her core.

Farci appeared in front of Iris. She grabbed Iris’s falling head, severed off Iris’s right arm, and, in the same swing motion, sprinkled snow-white powder on Iris’s liquifying body.

The antidote neutralized the poison, turning Iris’s body from rotten green to lifeless grey.

As Farci was about to catch Iris’s unravelling body, Iris’s head shone. Golden lightning arcs burst out of it and struck Farci. Rings of devastating electric fields blazed outward, liquifying concrete into lava, sands into glasses, and assassins into crisps.

Lorient and Secain couldn’t defend themselves, but faint marks Iris left on their shoulders lit up. Layers of mud and dirt rose from the earth and shielded them from the infernal heat.

The shockwave blew away the crimson mist, penetrated patches of dark clouds overhead, and latched on everything in its path. The wreckage of stone pillars glistened, tiny electrical arcs flashing on and above their surface. Bluish flames consumed the smashed buildings, whose concrete foundations shattered and collapsed on themselves.

The nearby Master Assassins disintegrated, their cloaks and weapons dispersed as pitch-black ashes. Their visages, like shadows, painted ghostly silhouettes on the shattered ground.

Those far enough managed to use their life-saving Artefacts, yet injuries plagued their bodies. Blue electricity infested their wounds and shocked their nerves. They gritted their teeth and stood up. But their cramped muscles gave up, and they dropped to the ground.

Iris’s body splattered, annihilated, evaporated. Only her core, untainted, remained at the centre of the impact. It glowed black, its murky interior churning like a sea of infinite darkness. Purple slime gushed out and formed Iris once more.

As her face reanimated, she gasped for empty breaths. Tears leaked out of her murky eyes. Her body uncontrollably shivered as her purple colour gradually turned blue.

Her magical accessories rose from the rubble and flew to her, though most of her weaker items were in ruin. Her Overcast Bracelet, gifted by Vindette, and her Memory Forever Cherished were recharging.

She only had one last item to overturn the situation.

Farci jumped down from atop a building and landed in front of Iris. Her feet lightly tapped the sunken ground, crushing it into pieces. Parts of her torn uniform, like ribbons, fluttered with the chaotic shifting gales. The tips of her hair, burned, became dark grey.

She raised her right hand before her face and blew at it. Her black glove decayed into dust, exposing her scarred palm. It quivered, blood seeping from its wounds.

“You managed to hurt me,” Farci said. “I finally know why Mother is interested in you.”

Iris supported herself up, her eyes narrowed. “Are you confident, Farci?”

Farci laughed. She grabbed her right sleeve with her left hand and tore it. Her slim, pale arm reflected sunlight which landed on it. Slices of her clothes, previously masking her flesh, peeled from her body, exposing her abdomen, her thighs, her back, and her shoulders.

She riffled her hands through her hair and flicked it. Her lips pursed before curving into a radiant smile.

“Mother always praises me for my allure.” Farci ran her hands across her breasts and down to her abdomen. “I had to wrap myself under it, or dirty gazes would blemish me.”

“Our gazes Corrupt all, Farci.”

“And they’re beautiful, Iris. Corruption turns dull grey into untaintable black, pure blackness that consumes all. Such smoothness, such faultlessness, what can it be if not beautiful?”

“Join us, then, if you desire this blackness.” Iris’s slime flashed dark purple light. “Don’t you want to experience this pure blackness?”

“Would you dare to embrace me?”

Iris smiled. “My last meeting with your mother hasn’t gone too well. A repeat of it won’t be good for any of us.”

“But Mother wishes to meet you again. If not for The Churches, she would’ve already taken you to her Heavenly Kingdom.”

Iris took a deep breath. The two earth shields crumbled. Secain and Lorient looked around at the decimated surroundings and at Iris. They then glared at Farci, but before they could rush to their mistress, the remaining Master Assassins encircled them.

Farci lifted her head. The crimson mist cloaking Donhalgen had almost entirely vanished. The golden pillars throughout the city shimmered, their radiances gently lessening.

“What we lack has always been time,” Farci said. “Please return to The Order with us, Dear Iris.”

“We won’t let you take away Mistress!” Secain clenched her fists. Ultra-fine needles manifested between her fingers. Her eyes reddened. “You’ll have to take me first.”

“As you wished.” Farci covered her mouth with her right hand and peeped at Iris. “Have you decided?”

Iris sighed. “Those two, always reckless and emotional. How could I leave myself in their care?”

“But Mistress—”

“Silence!”

Secain and Lorient shrank. They wanted to voice their thoughts, but their mistress’s command paralysed them. They couldn’t and wouldn’t go against her order, even if they wished dearly to.

After flashing them a smile, Iris walked to Farci while touching the back of her right hand. Her purple Corruption Power coursed beneath her membrane, forming an insignia of a feather pen, whose tip wrote poems of forbidden love.

A handkerchief with a pink heart knitted on it materialised before her. She grasped it, held it close to her lips, and beamed the most graceful smile at Farci.

Farci’s eyes contracted. Her figure disappeared from the spot, shooting towards Iris. Her green Pure Power erupted from her seductive body, flooding the wreckage with overwhelming dread.

“So long as I’m in Donhalgen, my focus will be on you.”

Pure-white clouds fell from the sky like tender snow. They covered the collapsed buildings, shattered storefronts, burning pits, and broken streets. A puff of them moulded themselves into a snowman, and Vindette stepped out of it.

She remained in between Iris and Farci. Her expression, hidden under a thin yet impenetrable veil, radiated serenity unbothered by death and destruction. This absolute calmness returned the killing intent to emptiness.

“Are you trying to hurt our little Iris?” Vindette observed Farci’s petite figure. “Are you . . . confident?”