This Is a Trap!

Upon seeing the tattered cloth flying in the sky, the philosopher immediately guessed the other party's identity.

She stared in astonishment at the person opposite her.

As a Star Antimony Noble and a seasoned Demon Scholar, she also has a deep understanding of the Path of Twilight.

Currently, the alchemists are vying for influence with the Demon Scholar, while the necromancers remain neutral. Neutrality means maintaining good relations with both sides. In this respect, the necromancers of Star Antimony are actually the best mediator.

After all, the essence of the Path of Twilight is to remain still if the enemy doesn't move, and to remain still even if the enemy makes a rash move—in short, to stay still if possible. Ideally, one should see no one and continue one's peaceful daily life without ever making any changes.

Those who are not afraid of trouble will not gain the approval of the Path of Twilight.

It is precisely because of this characteristic that the extraordinary individuals of the Path of Twilight alone are simply unable to independently support a faction or rule a country.

Because nobody here works, doesn't try, and doesn't want to take responsibility. If trouble comes up, nobody will stand up for you.

In contrast to this indolence, all extraordinary individuals on the Path of Twilight possess extremely high utility—necromancers can resurrect the undead and modify the dead, while preservationists can solidify objects, buildings, and rituals. Therefore, to avoid being marginalized, extraordinary individuals on the Path of Twilight have no choice but to join other factions. In Star Antimony, the two largest factions are Demon Scholar and Alchemists.

In this subordinate relationship, Demon Scholar and alchemists gradually come to understand the various abilities of the Path of Twilight transcendents.

The philosopher was also surprised by this—because the ghost looked exactly like a necromancer. Both its codename and its demeanor exuded a cold, rigid, and gloomy aura.

—But this ability is not a necromancer's ability at all.

This is the Preservationist's ability, [Living Corpse Preservation]! By putting one's physical body into a state of suspended animation and preserving it in a safe, portable dimension, one can then manipulate a demonized clone to act.

Due to a shortage of materials, the philosopher's traps were mostly triggered by being stepped on or tripped. The ghost, however, simply floated over, so none of the traps were triggered.

—That's why the philosopher's previous ritual spells didn't even touch the robe. It simply floated upwards and clung to the ceiling to avoid the attack.

What kind of preserver names themselves "Ghost"?! Even the philosopher almost wanted to curse.

But she only had one last set of materials left. Even if she could destroy the substitute, she still wouldn't be able to defeat the spirit once it revealed its true form.

So she simply raised her hands. "I surrender, ghost. I am Alai, we can cooperate."

"—No, you are not Alai."

The ghostly spirit denied it in a sinister tone. "Alai is a woman, so she can only become a man in this ritual."

Its voice was like a ghost, as if drifting from an empty distance. "I'll give you one more chance. Who are you?"

"Alright, I am a philosopher. I am a mage on the Path of Wisdom, capable of solving all kinds of traps and puzzles. It won't hurt to take me with you."

The philosopher frankly revealed his identity—mainly because he really had no clothes left to wear.

She gave a somewhat stiff smile, trying to appear friendly. "You see, we're all alone. None of us have found our teammates... So if only one of us escapes from here, it might trigger a special rule that would lead to failure. But if we escape together, we'll definitely survive."

That's what she said to the hatter before.

The lines were almost unchanged at this moment, but she was confident that there shouldn't be any problems.

Because her opponent didn't know how much magic she still possessed, and also realized that she had a ritual document. Fighting her in this narrow space with no room to hide would only result in mutual destruction.

If everyone survives, even if they fail to complete the tasks and lose points, at least they won't face severe punishment. In other words, she has set a trap. If everyone fails to leave the Secret Passage and complete the level, the only person who manages to escape will be defeated under the influence of special rules.

Killing her would bring no benefit, fighting her would be risky, and victory might even lead to defeat.

No matter how you look at it, there's no room for refusing her proposal.

But the ghost merely chuckled, giving her an answer she hadn't expected at all, "Then where are the materials you're carrying? And who is he? Being able to use ' Bull's Fire ' means these materials come from a man. And there's no woman among the three of you, is there?"

—What should I do? How should I respond?

The forge was dead, Janet didn't know if it was a teammate of the ghost. Should she say it was the corpse of Alai or the Hatter? The philosopher paused for a moment.

But the spirit didn't wait for an answer to the question, "It doesn't matter who it is. People on the Path of Wisdom are too cunning; I can't distinguish your lies and schemes. So I won't listen to anything you say."

"Wait, wait a minute, think about what I mean! What I mean is—"

"That's enough, I don't want to hear it."

The ghostly figure coldly replied, "Shut up."

A dim yellow light ignited from within the black robe.

A premonition of death arose in the philosopher's mind—

She immediately lunged to the side, trying to dodge the Petrification Ray that felt like a pistol.

She dodged it, but not completely.

Although the philosopher dodged the direct hit of the Petrification Ray, a flash of yellow light, like a camera flash, suddenly stung her. Her movements suddenly slowed down.

She floated in the air, moving frame by frame as if in slow motion.

—That's the preservationist's slow technique!

For this spell to take effect, both eyes must be focused directly on the target's casting point at the moment it is cast.

But when...

"No, it's the Preservator's Sequence Art— "

The philosopher was suddenly startled and astonished.

You're just giving me the Sequence Art like that?! A Preservator can pre-store the highest-level spell they can cast, which will automatically trigger under special circumstances. By doing this, the spell pool from the previous day can be effectively saved to the next day... and the trigger condition for this spell is clearly "when someone successfully dodges the Petrification Ray."

To dodge the Petrification Ray, one must concentrate fully and keep a close eye on the opponent while dodging. This will result in being affected by the slow spell.

"Where did you get the power to cast so many spells?!" The philosopher felt despair.

Just then, a young man's arm emerged from the cloak.

"How cute, girl," a frivolous male voice said, "But it's best not to keep such dangerous things at hand."

In the philosopher's terror, the last Ritual Pack on her body was easily tossed far away by that hand.

"I want to taste her, may I? She's so cute."

A man's voice rang out, seemingly seeking some opinion.

"Can't."

A chilling voice rang out. "You better control yourself, you stupid woman. And hurry up and do it, I can't hold her off for long."

"Okay, okay..."

The man spoke with a smile, emerging from the tattered cloak as if he had always been wearing one.

Like other Blood Slave, he had a handsome face, was completely naked, and had prominent muscles. He had short black hair, and his body was full of vitality, making no attempt to conceal his instincts and desires.

He grabbed the philosopher by the neck and, amidst her terrified gaze, kissed her forehead tenderly.

Goodnight, baby. It's a shame we're short on time right now.

He spoke gently, then suddenly his right arm bulged with unusually large muscles as he gripped the philosopher's arm.

Countless tentacles made of blood suddenly pierced out from the philosopher's right arm and plunged into his entire body.

In pain and fear, the philosopher let out a piercing scream. The man, however, just laughed heartily and lifted her high up by the neck.

He covered the philosopher's mouth with his other hand, and then his left hand bulged out a large number of tentacles, which directly submerged the philosopher's petite body.

When the tentacles dispersed, all that remained was a smooth skeleton scattered on the ground.

"--Okay, the Blood Pool has been replenished."

The man patted his belly heartily. "Do you want to try and capture her soul?"

"Foolish woman, this is part of a ritual. I can't catch it."

The ghostly voice was faint and indistinct. "Come back quickly after you've finished eating. I suddenly have a bad feeling..."

"Oh, I felt it too. There were two women's heartbeats, one healthy, one weak. They've been watching for a long time."

The man glanced at the shadows in the distance, grinning confidently. "But I don't think I need to run, you ghosts. This is my home turf—I have an absolute advantage; none of them are as strong as me."

"Are you... Banned and Strangers? Are you here to avenge your comrades? Well, you're too late."

"Feel sorry."

Iver voice came from the shadows. "You've mistaken me for someone else, Miss Janet."

Then Bayard appeared with his glasses on, his cold and arrogant face causing the man's confident smile to falter.

He felt his heart skip a beat.

Why would the Child of the Moon be waiting behind the Secret Passage?

"—This is a trap! Run!"

The ghostly spirit roared.