You're Such a Sneaky One

Seeing the other party hesitate, Isolde suddenly spoke.

"Hey! Do you want to get out?"

The man in black turned to look at her, his mismatched eyes filled with scrutiny. "You really have a way?"

"I do."

"Why should I believe you?"

"You don't need to believe me." Isolde raised a hand, and the Soul Thread coiled once around her wrist. "Just believe this."

She tossed the other end of the Soul Thread to him and said without changing expression, "I'll give you my life-bound Soul Thread. As long as I make a move against you, you can tug this thread at any time, and my soul will be torn apart first."

That was, of course, a lie. The Soul Thread was her absolute creation; it was fundamentally impossible for it to turn against its owner.

She had done this solely to lower his guard and make him patiently listen to her finish speaking.

After all, she could tell that although the man in black before her was dangerous, he truly was not all that clever when it came to scheming.

The man in black stared at the silver thread in his hand, his gaze darkening slightly.

"You're willing to hand such leverage over to me?"

"Of course." Isolde's eyes curved as her meaningful gaze fell upon the shadow beneath his feet. "Because I can just as easily use the Soul Thread in your hand to crush your soul."

That was another lie.

She had secretly analyzed him. This man in black seemed to coexist with his shadow, and his speed was strangely fast. If they truly fought to the death on this ground that was not her home turf, it would be difficult for her to gain any advantage.

But as long as she put on a convincing enough show, after seeing that she possessed 100 Intelligence, the man in black probably would not dare act rashly.

The man in black looked at the silver glow wound around his fingertips, his voice slightly hesitant. "That sounds like mutual destruction."

"This is the highest form of cooperation." Isolde spoke with grave seriousness. "Neither of us has to pretend to be a good person, and neither of us has to talk about loyalty. If we put the knives out in the open while we negotiate, it saves trouble."

After weighing the pros and cons, the man in black finally nodded. "So, what's your method?"

"Answer the question backward."

With a flick of Isolde's fingers, the silver thread traced an arc through the air, circling around the scattered fragments of light beneath the Moon-Crown Lock.

"It said a soul had to be 'sacrificed,' but it never said we had to choose one from the two of us."

The man in black's gaze fell upon the Moon-Crown Lock. From deep within the fragments of light came the faint sound of prayers.

He seemed to suddenly understand something. "Could it be... you want to use the remnant souls that were sacrificed in the lock long ago?"

"Smart." Isolde's smile deepened. "It pretended to be a Unicorn just now to trick me into forgiving it, and now it has set up a trap to lure us into killing each other. The examiner must be sitting in the examination room, secretly watching everything happening here."

Before her words had even faded, Isolde abruptly activated [Soul-Binding Thread], sending silver strands probing into the seemingly luminous shadow within the Moon-Crown Lock.

The void shuddered, and she yanked out a translucent orb of light.

The humanoid remnant soul wore a grayish-white sacrificial robe. It had no facial features, and a tiny imprint of a Moon-Crown Lock hung prominently from its chest.

[Inverted Radiance Shadowfold.]

Isolde forcibly folded a portion of her own power into the remnant soul's body.

The next second, the remnant soul began to emit a soul aura identical to Isolde's.

Surprised by what she had done, the man in black stepped forward to confirm it. "You disguised your aura on it?"

"That's right." Isolde looked up, smiling as calmly as ever. "Now the Moon-Crown Lock will think it's me."

The man in black immediately understood her scheme. "You want me to kill it?"

Hearing that question, Isolde suddenly felt an indescribable exhaustion.

She clenched her back teeth and snapped irritably, "...What else?"

"I went through all that trouble to fold my aura onto it, then dragged it in front of you like a dead dog. Did you think I wanted you to critique my soul-stitching skills?"

"Or do you think I'm so free that I'd give you a spellcasting lesson in a death trap where we could lose our lives at any moment?"

The man in black was stunned by her retort. After a long while, his voice unexpectedly carried a hint of inexplicable innocence.

"I only wanted to confirm your intentions."

"Are you done confirming?"

"More or less."

"Then do it!" Isolde glared at him. "Ask one more word, and I'll assume you're trying to stall for time so you can stab me in the back."

The lips beneath the man in black's mask seemed to press together, and his voice lowered further.

"Why did you suddenly get angry?"

Isolde turned to look at him mechanically. In that instant, she was genuinely rendered speechless by his question.

Did this guy have some kind of misunderstanding about the situation? They were standing in the Moon-Crown Lock's sacrificial illusion, with betrayal rules overhead that could grind their bones dry, a reviving magic circle beneath their feet, and a lock-spirit remnant soul before them that could mutate and devour its master at any moment.

And yet he was actually hung up on why she had suddenly gotten angry?!

Isolde took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed the urge to shove his head into the lockhole.

"I. Am. Not. Angry." She enunciated every word.

The man in black looked at her stubbornly. "You're speaking more harshly."

"That's because I'm burning through the last bit of patience I have left in my life."

"But your expression looks like you want to kill me."

"Congratulations. Your judgment has finally come online."

The man in black seemed even more aggrieved.

"I just thought your explanation wasn't complete enough."

The vein at Isolde's temple throbbed violently, and she completely gave up.

"Fine! Then I'll explain it to you completely right now!"

She yanked the remnant soul forward as if dragging a chick, pointing back and forth between the three of them.

"Me, I disguise it as me; you, you kill it; the Moon-Crown Lock, it mistakenly judges that the sacrificial target has been successfully offered; us, we take advantage of the chaos in the rules to break the formation. Do you understand now?"

The man in black nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Isolde flashed a deeply threatening smile. "Now shut that little mouth of yours that loves asking questions, and stab it for me—!"

The moment she finished speaking, a shadow blade appeared in the man in black's hand and pierced straight through the remnant soul's chest. The sheer force nearly tore the Soul Thread Isolde was holding apart.

This guy did not hesitate in the slightest when he went for the kill.

Just moments ago, he had been asking her like a curious child why she was angry, yet when he struck, he was more decisive and efficient than anyone.

"Ah—!!"

The unfinished remnant soul let out a shrill scream. Immediately afterward, the rune at the center of the Moon-Crown Lock lit up, erupting with a vast blaze of glaring blood-red light.

[Mutual-harm intent detected.]

[Sacrificial act detected.]

[Sacrificed target: Isolde.]

[Judged target: Six of Cups.]

An ethereal voice echoed over the ruins, and both of them froze at the same time.

No matter how much she calculated, Isolde had not expected the Moon-Crown Lock to come with True-Name Sight and directly announce the name she had hidden most deeply for everyone to hear. What she had not expected even more was that the seemingly dim-witted man in black had such a peculiar name.

Six of Cups had clearly caught that piece of information as well.

Through the surging blood-red fragments of light, he looked at her. His originally low, androgynous voice now carried an intentionally drawn-out note of amusement and teasing.

"I never expected... to meet you this way, Miss Isolde."

He emphasized the name "Isolde" heavily, as though he had just found an enormous bargaining chip in the mud that he could use to threaten her. His tone carried unconcealed satisfaction.

Yet not a single crack appeared on Isolde's ordinary face.

The more her trump card was exposed at a moment like this, the less she could let the other party see that she cared.

She slowly raised her eyes, her tone even steadier and more mocking than before.

"I also didn't expect Black Tower's codename to be so straightforward. Then according to the customs of my hometown, should I call you something more affectionately—Old Six?"