Sparks arose, as each blade skidded across one another.

The demon's body began to warp—the shadows splitting apart to reveal a gloomy-looking girl. November held no expression on her face. She continued to dodge each Royal Knight's attack, occasionally kicking back their sword until it flies out from their grip.

Arrows flew out, aiming for the demon.

Percival gave a "tsk", as all his arrows were deflected by the demon's strong prowess. His lean figure was imposing, additionally with the bow strung across his shoulder. The moonlight lowered its gaze upon him, showering him in the wondrous light.

Lucilline picked up his spear from the ground, bloodied with the demon's shadows.

Beside him was Daphnne, holding her rose-hilted sword. Azalea held his sword as well, his amethyst purple eyes not wavering in the slightest. "Let's go." His voice was death-gripping, not a single fluctuation. He was not scared.

Therefore, Lucilline must also not be.

He held his breath, then smiled. "Let's go."

November avoided all the Royal Knights' sword, but suddenly, another striking sword swung out of midair! Her eyes widened, and she gritted her teeth.

It's Azalea...!

She had always wanted to kill this man. White hair, amethyst purple eyes. He works purely based on justice—but that is what he convinces himself with. Sometimes, November felt pitiful for the man. He acts like he is doing everything for the greater good, but is it truly...?

"I will kill you." November squinted her eyes. For the greater good.

She threw her claw against the male lead's face—only to be blocked by a spear.

"...Lucilline!" Azalea almost tripped over his words.

Lucilline didn't spare him a glance, as he focused on blocking the demon. November fumed, as she swiped her claws wildly. Each blow was blocked though, narrowly brushing past the black-haired nobleman's pale cheeks.

Daphnne quickly stabbed her sword up the demon's abdomen—only cutting a shallow wound—before being thrown off.

That didn't matter though.

The Royal Knights threw themselves on top of November, pinning her to the Church's ground. November screamed, flailing wildly. She hated the floor of the Church! This was built to be a place of blessings and peace, but it was also built based on a pile of lies and curses! There is nothing Holy about this Church!

Dimitri did not bring the Sword of Gravity this time.

He took a regular sword, but it did not decrease his intimidation by any bit. The Crown Prince showed a pair of hazel brown eyes, watching in indifference.

He leaped—one second passed, and Dimitri was immediately in front of November—

The demon couldn't even react before the sword shone before her face. November's eyes suddenly glowed crimson red—the glass broke.

A giant pack of demons had broke inside the Church...!

"Ahh, help!" The Head Priest screamed. The demons were like a bundle of warped shadows, their figures constantly bending its shape, as if made of mere concentrated water.

The figure of the Crown Prince paused.

This gave November a chance to breathe, instantly changing her shadows. Her body grew in shape and size, bulking and growing like an unidentifiable creature. She consecutively knocked off the Royal Knights, then ran back. No matter how incompetent the Royal family's current generation was, she should never underestimate the power of humanity.

Her shadows retracted, and November withdrew back to her original size.

Dimitri gave a harsh "tsk", then rushed to the Head Priest. The latter was in a delirious state, constantly swinging his pole at the incoming demons.

The priestess next to him had blocked each attack, occasionally kicking some from getting closer. In almost no time, her body was riddled in wounds and cuts.

Jacques knelt by her side, healing her wounds.

At times, the priestess wanted to cry, "Stop healing me." I don't want to continue fighting anymore. Small streaks of tears slid down her cheeks.

Jacques did not notice.

"Focus on eliminating all the demons," Dimitri looked at November, who had surrounded herself in a pit of shadows. "I will get her."

The Royal Knights looked at the Crown Prince, who looked ahead domineeringly. His robust and masculine figure seemed to brutally face all of the darkness ahead. He was like a shining beacon within an ocean of muddled shadows.

"Yes, sir!" The Knights hollered at the same time.

Dimitri sneered, his hazel brown eyes thinning.

In an instant, he dashed across the Church. His figure was imposing, with his back as straight as an arrow, striking right through all the darkness. Clamps and crumbles of shadows raised their hands at him, trying to grab onto a limb and tear off his flesh. Dimitri was not fazed, as he mercilessly ripped the shadows to shreds, watching them fall limp to the Holy and sacred grounds.

November was scared.

"Don't come any closer!" Around a bout of fifty metres remained between the prince and her. But the Crown Prince did not stop.

No—he even accelerated.

Lucilline watched the entire spectacle with awe. He had never witnessed the Crown Prince in action without any debuffs. The Sword of Gravity from last time had truly limited Dimitri's potential, weighing him down.

Without that sacred artifact, the Crown Prince was like a different warrior.

His golden hair raced against the unruly winds, riding on the forces and currents. Dimitri's figure seemed to blend into a glimmer of sunlight, as if the Gods above watched him, and slowly shone their almighty blessings unto him.

November gritted her teeth.

She commanded more and more of her demons to approach. However, each of them were slashed through by Dimitri's sword—cleanly swept into halves.

Although demons had the ability to regenerate, smaller demons with less strength find themselves struggling to do so. Instead, as long as they are struck in a fatal spot, they will die.

An explosion of shadowy black limbs had burst into the air.

Dimitri arched an eyebrow. He left behind a pile of decapitated demonic limbs, just laying on the ground, waiting to be burned to ashes. The Crown Prince seemed to ask, "Is this all?"

November pursed her lips.

The distance between them lasted from 5o metres to... 25... 10... 5 metres...

A horrendous smirk arose on the demonic girl's face. She couldn't control the smile, as it kept growing on her lips, bending them into a higher arc than before. Gradually, her face couldn't contain the muscles moving underneath her skin. Her lips slit apart, as they rose to her cheeks.

Blood poured out from her pungent mouth, and her eyes thinned into small crescents.

"...do you really want to kill me before learning about all the Holy Church's sins?"

A blade pressed against her neck.

Dimitri's eyes were unwavering, but his actions clearly stated otherwise. "The Holy Church's sins?"

Lucilline remembered. The Crown Prince had addressed to him some of his concerns about the organization. He always had suspicions about them... something about a curse.

The black-haired nobleman pursed his lips.

He also wondered what made him massacre the Holy Church Organization in the novel. Could it be that... the Holy Church was truly wrong, and he was falsely persecuted?

The amount of answers he could think up made his mind spin.

He needed to know.

November's face had completely deformed. Her cheek bones were sucked up like dried plums, and her eyes thinned into a small line. Her purple hair swayed disobediently, laying on her back. When she smiled, the bones underneath her face cracked. Her lips rose so high, the edges of her mouth almost touched the tips of her eyes.

The onlookers gulped.

Percival clenched his hands into fists. This is a demon.

Daphnne sweated, trying to wipe her sweat onto the hilt of her sword. She couldn't believe that she was earnestly talking with November before in the past months...

She was with a demon all along...

Percival grimaced.

"No one knows but the sinner themselves, don't they?" November smiled. Blood continued to pour from the crevices of her mouth. "No matter how many times you question them, they may never answer you. But I can answer you—as long as I'm alive."

Dimitri already caught the gist of her words.

"You want me to do something for you."

November smiled. "Not exactly."

Suddenly, a loud yell came from behind. "Don't listen to that demon!" The Head Priest staggered, his old and wrinkly skin appearing much more sinister than before. "That is a demon! You bunch of atheists.... you don't know how much work the Holy Church did to protect Lydia Kingdom! You damned hypocrites! Using the Church to your own needs...!"

He fumed, his old beard flaring up in ignition. "Why are you listening to a demon! Just kill it already!"

November was unfazed. Her blood dirtied the smooth floor of the Church. "Are you afraid?"

The Head Priest pointed an old finger at the demon. His face was scrunched up, forcing out several squiggly lines and wrinkles.

"Bah! You insolent creature! You dare to oppose the Holy Church! No one can ever defeat us, because we are blessed by God! Even if you spread rumours about us, true justice will always come to light!"

The priestess next to him had shuddered.

She seemed to be muttering underneath her breath, along the words of: "God save us all. Lydia... save us all."

Jacques face was ugly.

Dimitri sighed. He pressed the blade closer to November's neck, who took an eerie step back. "Tell me already if you don't want me to kill you."

The tension in the Church had forced everyone to lose out sweat from their palms. Lucilline was tense, and he raised his spear in defence.

He will make sure to make this mission a success.

"You are all so gullible." November deadpanned. Her voice was eerily deep, but her mouth was still curved up in an uncanny smile. The slits on the edges of her mouth cracked further, leaving a scar onto her chin. "You have been tricked by the Holy Church for centuries... stupid humans can't even figure out the difference between a blessing and a curse—"

"KILL IT RIGHT NOW!" The demon was interrupted.

The Head Priest was fully agitated. He had thrown away his pole, and instead, carried a sword dropped by a defeated Royal Knight. The blade was thrusted up against the priestess' neck, just merely an inch away from decapitating her.

"If you don't want her to die, then kill the demon now." The Head Priest stated.

November was amused. "See? The old man has already gone mad."

Her delirious smile no longer seemed as sinister as the Head Priest's look of insanity.

"HURY UP! Kill the demon right now! Or else I will have God bring ruin to Lydia Kingdom! You can say goodbye to your forsaken nation!" The Head Priest rambled on and on, his voice on a rampage of brutality and terror.

"Listen to him." November smirked. "He doesn't even know what he's talking about."

The Head Priest let out inaudible sounds.

All of a sudden, he pushed the knife closer—cutting a shallow strike into the priestess' neck. The latter was crying, while mumbling chants to her God.

"KILL THE DEMON!" The Head Priest was truly mad.

Dimitri's face was ugly. "Head Priest, put down the sword. Only the Royal Knights are allowed to carry these swords. Ordinary priests like you have no rights."

Lucilline was aghast.

He tried to calm his racing heart beat. He could do nothing to stop this. It was either Dimitri kills November, so that the priestess could free herself. However, they would never end up knowing about the Holy Church's sins.

Or Dimitri could have November confess the sins, but the priestess would be murdered. A poor and innocent life would be lost.

"Put down the sword..." Dimitri's eyes squinted. "...NOW!"

On the sound of his command, an arrow swished past the 50 metres in the Church. In an instant, the arrow nailed itself into the Head Priest's arm, forcing him to stagger back in pain, loosening his hold on the priestess and the sword. Percival nodded in satisfaction, seeing that his shot worked.

The Head Priest cried out in alarm, dropping the sword.

"Gah!" The priestess wheezed, quickly running away.

The Head Priest wanted to chase after her. However, he was given a brutal punch in the face. Jacques did not even bat an eye, as he lit a fire atop a slender finger.

"You wouldn't want me to set you on fire."

The Head Priest's old body shuddered on the spot. He kept rambling underneath his breath, pulling hard at the arrow struck in his arm. Blood spluttered out.

All of a sudden, the priestess cried out in pain.

"Don't worry," Jacques said softly to her, casting a healing spell on her neck. The wound faded away, but the priestess was still crying.

It was then he noticed something was not right. "Wait..."

"That's right." November hiccuped from pure adrenaline. "The Holy Church have never been followers of the divine nor God. They are merely servants under the Sequence Contract."

Willow was stunned. Augustine hid his shock underneath his cold paralyzed face.

The Sequence Contract... a forbidden contract originally created by the demons. But since the war between humanity and demons, the contract was given to the Royal family, who eventually passed it down to the Three Houses of Grand Duke's.

"They are merely servants afraid of pain, so they could only follow the Head Priests' orders." November explained. "Every time a Head Priest died, thousands of priests and priestesses died along with him. Therefore, every time a new Head Priest arrived, thousands of servants would be bound in a contract with him. This is how the Holy Church continued striving."

She looked at the current Head Priest, who was trying to pull out the arrow from his arm.

"It is too pathetic. Humans can only be servants of each other."

Augustine clenched his fists. The original novel had never described of such a thing! It only wrote that Lucilline Rubius had massacred the Holy Church.

Why? Was it for justice? Did he know that the Holy Church was hiding something? But if he killed the Head Priest... then he must have also inadvertently killed all of the innocent priests/priestesses.

Lucilline Rubius... He was quite a pitiful and misunderstood character.

All of a sudden, Dimitri stabbed his blade against November's neck...!

"You...!" November quickly leaped out, avoiding the attack narrowly. She hadn't been fast enough, her neck would've been sliced immediately by the Crown Prince.

Dimitri gave a harsh "tsk".

"Hurry and capture her!" He ordered. The Royal Knights immediately obeyed, running and lashing out at the demon.

November's face remained smiling.

All of a sudden, her entire body was covered in wisps of shadows... The shadows grabbed onto her, dragging her down until she had fully sunken into the Church floor.... completely gone.

Dimitri cursed.

This was one of the abilities of a high-level demon. They were able to blend into shadows to escape from their predator, or to sneakily hunt their prey.

He turned back to look at the Head Priest.

The Head Priest had been healed, with the arrow taken out from his arm. Jacques had pinned him down on the floor, threatening that if he were to move a single step, then he would not hesitate to broadcast his sins all over Lydia Kingdom.

Dimitri sighed. "This is why I needed the Staff of Curses."

Lucilline looked at him. He couldn't help but feel a sliver of guilt wash over his heart. If only he could borrow the Staff of Curses for the Crown Prince... then perhaps they could resolve this conflict.

The Crown Prince stilled.

He spun around, seeing the black-haired nobleman's dismayed expression. Dimitri felt like his anger from earlier had vanished, as if a veil was lifted off of his heart. Looking at Lucilline, he appeared like an innocent boy who had been wronged.

Dimitri sighed.

His lips unconsciously curved upwards, and he outstretched a hand.

He plopped a white gloved hand on the black-haired nobleman's head, tousling the strands of soft and long black hair. "It's not your fault."

Lucilline let the Crown Prince mess with his hair.

His heart faltered for a moment, then regained speed.

"You're right." He nodded.

On the sidelines, Azalea, Percival, Augustine, and Jacques watched on in envy. They all wished to pat the black-haired nobleman's head, and reassure him...

"Does this count as successfully defending the Holy Church?" Willow asked sceptically.

"It shouldn't really matter right?" Daphnne nudged the maidservant playfully.

The Royal Knights were sent out to go gather the rest of the troops. They were to spread out and go hunt down November, who had escaped from the Church. Meanwhile, the rest of the noblemen and commoners had surrounded the Head Priest.

The priestess had already fallen asleep, her tears wetting her cheeks.

"What do we do now..." Percival pondered. "The Head Priest is already so old... so when he dies, then this innocent priestess will also have to die alongside him."

Azalea and Daphnne were taught about the rules of the Sequence Contract. After learning the rules, they both paled by two shades.

"This is so horrible." Daphnne wobbled.

Willow helped support her.

"She shouldn't have to die. She didn't commit any crimes." Azalea could not fathom how cruel the world was. Many people often sought for help, but the world returned nothing for them. Those suffering from a disease would die young, and those suffering from economic crisis would starve to their death.

Jacques bowed his head.

The children from the orphanage... he could never get their lives back. But even so, Hugo still needs him. Thus, he must continue on to make sure no other children are treated the same...

"Oh? Looks like I've come at the right moment then." A familiar voice sounded above Lucilline's head. The black-haired nobleman quickly looked upwards, meeting a pair of familiar silvery grey eyes, and a head of mahogany red hair.

Zephyratt flaunted himself, "Did my little brother miss me?"

"...brother?" Lucilline was exasperated. "What are you doing here?"

Zephyratt had shoulder-length mahogany red hair, brushed to one side of his shoulder. He wore a raven black suit, which matched with what his little brother wore. His lean figure was tall and imposing, and his manipulative smile appeared quite sinister to the outsiders' eyes.

"Hmm? What are you talking about, little brother?" Zephyratt chuckled. "You need me the most right now, don't you?"

He raised something.

Instantly, Lucilline's eyes widened.

In Zephyratt's hands was a meticulously crafted staff, its handle was a long pole polished in silver lining. An ancient pattern was carved on the sides, as if imbued into the staff's bones. It glowed brilliantly when shone underneath the moonlight's gaze. At the tip of the staff was a crystal ball-shaped gem, numb and without colour.

"The Staff of Curses!"