Taking It Back

A warm breeze surged up.

Xiqisi still chose to attack Yicha.

Lost in his thoughts, Yicha merely clapped his hands lightly.

A tear opened in the void, and Xiqisi's true body, clad in a long purple dress, fell out of it, landing face-first in the muddy woodland.

She had taken a hard fall, yet she curled up without a sound, her purple eyes filled with vigilance and anger.

"The blood pact you set yourself tracks souls," Yicha said, looking at her as though worried about her intelligence. "Stop fighting yourself."

Xiqisi knelt on the ground, her luxurious purple gown stained with mud. Her elbows and face were dirty, and leaves were caught in her horns.

She remained silent, but her shoulders began to tremble. Yicha raised his brows as he watched her, recalling a human concept he had once read about.

Crying.

Xiqisi was crying.

Yicha watched her curiously, but soon remembered the matter at hand. With a sigh, he turned and walked into the woods.

The glow at the top of the distant tower guided him. The closer he came, the more he could sense scattered Law Energy permeating the air.

Yicha knew very well where that energy came from. It was quite similar to the energy used by the arrays within the Adamantine Prison and the planar trap that had caught him.

It came from the same person: the planar warlock who had captured him. That fellow had cast a restraint curse and a transformation curse on him, then taken all his belongings.

He had to take everything back.

The tower was right before him, but a gauzy mist outside the walls blocked his way. It was an alarm mana dome set up by the planar warlock.

Yicha weighed the price of acting rashly—if he passed through the mist just like that, the planar warlock would immediately discover his presence. He assessed his current strength: he could not draw upon Disorder Power, while human Law Sorcery and Vine Spirit Spell both required a source of energy, and he currently had no stable one.

As for that planar warlock: among humans, anyone capable of mastering profound planar magic was one in ten thousand. His magic was highly concealed; even Yicha had failed to realize at first that he had walked into a trap.

Of course, the warlock's use of energy still had flaws, but in Yicha's current state, a direct confrontation would very likely end in failure.

A familiar warm breeze rose around him.

He turned and saw the expressionless Joyful Saintess Xiqisi. Her eyes were slightly red.

"Still not leaving?"

The instant Yicha asked, he understood. Xiqisi's blood pact likely included spatial restrictions as well; a blood servant could not stray too far from their blood master.

Xiqisi kept a straight face and said nothing, sulking at the void.

"All right." Yicha thought for a moment. "Help me with something, and I can dissolve the blood pact." Although bringing Xiqisi along might create risks, he needed to borrow her strength right now.

Xiqisi's eyes lit up, and her expression brightened again. "What?"

Yicha pointed at the tower shrouded in mist.

The goddess hesitated for a while.

In the end, she moved close, linked her arm through the demon's, and descended with him into the castle.

They slipped lightly past the walls, the low stables, the dormitories full of sleeping apprentices, and the training grounds littered with wooden dolls, landing in a dark compartment deep inside.

Yicha found his personal belongings in a corner.

A golden horn chain, a Yin Iron scimitar, a bag of colorful energy Marrowstones, five crystal bottles containing Quick Runes, three brown-covered books, two quill pens, a roll of talisman paper, and Silent Ink inside a portable ink bottle...

"These are your things?" Xiqisi asked in surprise.

Yicha counted through the items. One was still missing, but he eventually found it on a shelf on the other side: a black-and-red robe, his signature attire.

"You look just like an archmage. A demon archmage." Xiqisi commented with interest, no longer as uncomfortable as before.

Yicha shook out the robe. In the next instant, the robe patterned with crimson flame markings and black swirling clouds fitted neatly over his tall, slender body. "How much do you know about the planar warlock here?"

"His name is Nese. An orphan, self-taught, and somewhat talented by human standards. He serves no god. Hmph. Boring. Anyone who is not one of my believers is boring." A faint pride appeared on the goddess's face.

"Let's go. Meet him." Yicha held out his arm.

This time, they teleported directly into the room where the planar warlock Nese lived.

The fire danced in the hearth. A hooded figure stood beside the desk, the gilded thorn pattern on his chest marking him as a high-ranking member of the Warlock Association.

The gaze beneath the hood showed no panic. It merely stared fixedly at Yicha, who had suddenly appeared, as if he had been prepared.

"Demon... you even brought help..."

Xiqisi had concealed her form when she arrived. Though Nese could not see her, he could sense another indistinguishable presence besides the demon, and he did not act rashly.

"I think I'll be direct."

Yicha casually found himself a comfortable seat and leaned back against it. "If you are a kind and self-disciplined spellcaster, remove the evil Law curse on me now. Don't worry, I have no interest in taking revenge on you. A demon does not care about such a slight."

Especially with the Apocalypse War waiting for him.

Yicha's attitude was too composed. Nese frowned, and a silver coin appeared in his hand.

He glanced at it. The coin gleamed brightly.

The True Silver Coin had not turned black... The demon was not lying...

After a brief moment of thought, Nese made the coin vanish between his fingers.

"I believe you."

"You believe in yourself." Yicha smiled faintly. He had noticed the warlock's little gesture.

The door behind him burst open with a bang.

A powerful aura of order flooded the room. Four young men in white robes rushed in, True Silver Chains in their hands, and surrounded him.

Four priests... Their clothes had been consecrated... Yicha swept his gaze around before settling it on Nese. The planar warlock's face remained hidden beneath his hood. He rose from behind the desk, both hands pressed against its surface as he faced the demon.

"I believe you, but I'm sorry, this isn't aimed at you." Nese's voice contained no apology whatsoever.

He raised one hand in a signal. The priests began chanting low-level Order Holy Edicts, gripping their chains tightly as they cautiously closed in on Yicha.

The demon was starting to grow tired of such needlessly complicated methods.

"Xiqisi. Come out and play."

He made no extra movements. He merely sighed and touched the talisman in his palm.

A soft, lingering, seductive sigh filled the room.

Divine light burst forth, and an intoxicating warm breeze instantly swept over everyone present.

A pale purple outline condensed in midair, releasing a maddening fragrance. The Joyful Saintess appeared beside Yicha, her figure enveloped in magnificent radiant light.

Joyful Saintess Xiqisi was more intoxicating than that fragrance, more likely than that warm breeze to make people want to strip naked.

Yicha had concluded this from the behavior of the four white-robed priests, and he found it rather foolish. The divine power of human gods came from the collective will of their believers, and different collective wills transformed into different powers.

The Joyful Saintess's divine power was clearly close to the Disorder Domain, so Yicha was naturally completely immune to all of it.

The priests were cramming together, giggling stupidly and babbling incoherently. Their True Silver Chains had been tossed aside—because their hands were busy removing their own shirts.

"This is... divine power..."

Nese's voice trembled. It was rare that he could resist the impact. "You are a god..."

"I am his servant." Xiqisi rested a hand on Yicha's shoulder.