Fear Not the Holy Light

Inside Count Fulongke's mansion, dazzling magical chandeliers still lit the entire house with ostentatious brilliance.

Yet the air reeked of blood. Bodies lay scattered from the courtyard to the rooms inside. In the first-floor hall, blood had pooled so deep it nearly covered the soles of their shoes, slick and greasy underfoot, squelching with every step.

Count Fulongke lived on the edge of Freudenburg District. His estate was vast and secluded, so Selina and Freya's killing spree had not alerted the neighbors.

But the count's defenses far surpassed Viscount Luciwang's. He had 150 armed guards inside and out, led by three retired High-Rank Apprentice Knights, as well as two mages in his employ. One was even a low-level Formal Mage, more than strong enough to crush the two girls. If Green had not used Freya's Spirit Calling at the critical moment, sending the Shadow Red Dragon Alshfaro's head through the Summoning Portal to blast the mage with his breath, both girls would have been captured alive.

Even so, Selina and Freya had suffered badly, especially Freya. After a grueling fight, she was covered in wounds, her Magic Power exhausted. She could not even summon her Bone Claw. But as a Fanatic Believer, she never wavered. Her resolve held firm as stone, her faith as strong as steel, until a huge, terrifying dark-red dragon head appeared above her. A blast of scorching breath turned the powerful Formal Rank mage into a burning man who rolled and writhed in agony.

At last, Freya struggled to her feet. She picked up a broken sword from the floor and drove it into the mage's chest with every ounce of strength she had left.

With the Shadow Red Dragon's power, a single breath could have reduced the Formal Rank mage to ash. But Green had