Black Tower

Colin's expression froze for a moment.

He had probably heard of Adventurers abandoning one another, or perhaps he had seen it himself.

The snow wolf behind Hewen suddenly raised its head and growled toward the west.

Several witch hunters immediately turned around. The sound of boots grinding through snow carried on the wind.

Hewen's face darkened. "It's a patrol."

Colin immediately lowered his voice and said urgently, "Captain, seize her and retreat first!"

"Too late." The older witch hunter looked toward the snow. "There's residual teleportation magic on her hand. They'll trace it here."

Hewen looked at Isolde, and the killing intent in his eyes rose again.

If she could expose their whereabouts, the safest course was to make her shut up first.

Isolde understood.

She could not let them entertain that thought—at least, she could not let Hewen think killing her was more worthwhile than keeping her alive.

"I can lure them away," Isolde said.

"You think we'd believe you?"

Colin stepped forward half a pace, keeping his voice low. His crossbow was nearly pointed at her chest.

"You don't have to believe me." Isolde's voice was quiet. "But if your brother is in there, killing me now will make Grey Dove Monastery go on immediate alert—"

Colin's face instantly turned ugly. He lowered his voice and snapped, "Shut up! What do you know? You know nothing!"

Hewen whirled around. "Colin, stand down."

Colin's eyes reddened, his chest heaving violently.

He wanted to argue, but Hewen's gaze bore down on him. He could only grit his teeth and step back.

Isolde did not look at him again.

This young witch hunter had already been pushed to the brink. If she kept touching that nerve, he might really lose control and fire.

She spread open her palm and drew out a trace of teleportation residue.

A faint white glow gathered at her fingertips, then was wrapped in the Purifying Light Formula and slowly pulled toward another patch of snow.

The white light sank into the snow like a tiny spark, slowly sliding along a shallow snow trench toward the depths of the forest.

Cold sweat seeped from Isolde's brow.

Holy Radiance clashed with the dark magic inside her. Even concealed beneath Purifying Light, drawing it still caused piercing pain.

The older witch hunter frowned. "She's using her own magic."

Hewen's gaze fell upon her hand. The burn mark was spreading, and tiny beads of blood appeared along the edge of her skin.

Colin saw it too. His expression flickered with surprise. He opened his mouth, but in the end said nothing.

The footsteps in the distance stopped.

Someone said, "The residue went that way."

Another person hesitated. "But there's a snow wolf's scent here."

"Just a Northlands wild dog. The silver-robed lord said tonight's priority is the intruder."

The footsteps gradually shifted away. Lantern light swayed between the trees without shining into the shadow where they hid.

Isolde held on until the last thread of Holy Radiance vanished before slowly lowering her hand.

Her fingertips were already numb. Without a word, she tucked her injured hand back into her sleeve.

Hewen watched her for a while before saying only, "You know how to divert Holy Lamp tracking?"

Isolde caught her breath. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have accepted this commission."

She did not explain further, because this was knowledge left behind in the original owner's memories.

Valen had gathered information on quite a few Holy Court items while he was alive. Perhaps that was why he had reserved that Unicorn body.

"You said the employer never showed his face. If he never showed himself, how did he give you the commission?" Hewen said coldly. "There are very few truths in your mouth."

Isolde looked up at him. "Truth doesn't need to be plentiful. It just needs to be enough."

Colin frowned, seeming to want to speak again, but the older witch hunter pressed a hand to his shoulder. The next instant, a brief scream came from the forest.

Every witch hunter's face changed at once.

Hewen abruptly turned around. The sound had come from the direction she had just diverted them toward.

Isolde looked over. The white light in the forest had gone out.

Colin's face turned pale. "Captain..."

Hewen did not answer. He crouched down, his eyes glowing as he peered through the gaps between the trees. His face instantly darkened to the extreme.

"It's the Black Tower."

Intense hatred surged into Colin's eyes, and he nearly forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"They came too."

When Isolde heard the words Black Tower, her heart slowly sank.

Ullr had said that another group would be heading to Grey Dove Monastery.

Northern Witch Hunters, Black Tower sorcerers, and Adventurers.

Now the witch hunters had arrived, and the Black Tower people had made their move as well.

Then where were the players?

Hewen suddenly turned around, cutting off Isolde's thoughts. "You have two choices now."

"First, I nail you here right now. Once everything is settled, I take you back to the Northlands for trial."

"Sounds like I'd have to wait a long time."

Colin snapped, "You think this is an invitation to dinner?"

Isolde remained calm. "So what's my second choice?"

Colin was enraged by her indifferent attitude and opened his mouth to curse, but Hewen raised a hand to silence him again.

"Second, you lead us close to Grey Dove Monastery. You know the Holy Court Protective Array, and you know the Corpse Transport Road. If you dare try anything on the way, I'll cut off your hand first."

Isolde nodded lightly. "Deal."

He made a gesture, and the witch hunter formation swiftly changed.

Two people moved to the front, three to the rear, while the rest spread into the snow forest on both sides.

Isolde was placed in the middle, as though she were being protected and escorted at the same time.

This position was not far from Hewen, nor was it far from Colin.

It made it convenient for her to hear them speak.

Following the route map Ullr had given Isolde, they headed southeast.

The snow between the trees grew deeper and deeper, while the distant bells became clearer.

With every toll, the Purifying Light disguise on the back of Isolde's hand trembled slightly, as if something far away were watching her.

Before long, the first monk's corpse appeared in the snow.

He knelt before a black pine tree with his head bowed. There was no tear in his holy robe and no blood on his face.

Only half of the shadow beneath his feet was missing, as though someone had neatly sliced it away with a knife.

Colin's breathing suddenly became ragged. Hewen crouched down, inspected the corpse's wrist, then lifted the monk's eyelids.

The whites of his eyes had turned completely black.

The older witch hunter said quietly, "He died not long ago."

Isolde's gaze fell beside the corpse.

A thin black mark lay in the snow, like the lingering stroke of some formula.

She could not understand its full meaning, but she caught a trace of something similar in the original owner's memories.

Black Tower members were experts at controlling shadows. In the original owner's memories, most of their shadow arts carried extremely strong backlash.

At first glance, it looked like a leftover mark. In truth, it could be the danger of an ambush; whoever touched it might be dragged into the abyss.

She withdrew her gaze and looked into the distance. Hewen came to stand beside her, his voice very low.

"What did you see?"

"The Black Tower people were here before us." Isolde rose to her feet. "They killed the patrol, but they didn't take the Holy Lamp."

Colin immediately looked toward the corpse's hand. A Holy Lamp with a silver handle lay in the snow, its holy emblem still glowing faintly white.

The older witch hunter frowned. "The Black Tower belongs to Evil Affinity. They have no need to take it."

Isolde glanced at him and said evenly:

"Which means they left it for us to use."