Don't confiscate my identity as a human race

The blizzard howled as it swept through, stirring up countless shards of ice and fallen leaves.

The Snow Witch was forced to use her most powerful environmental spell to break through these thorns quickly.

"Such exquisite spell control of the Demon Race, truly impressive."

Nedoqika genuinely praised,

"But against life magic, everything inevitably returns to nature."

As Nedoqika spoke, a wave of warmth flowed through the Snow Witch's entire body. The skin originally sliced by the thorns miraculously healed to perfection, but simultaneously, the poison began to diminish the effectiveness of her own healing magic.

"..."

The Snow Witch was startled.

This excessive treatment was rejecting her innate healing magic, indirectly realizing healing reduction.

"Please don't doubt—I don't harbor any peculiar fetishes."

Nedoqika, as if she had seen through the Snow Witch's thoughts, playfully winked,

"I just think that simply hurting you is too dull. Endless battling is boring, don't you agree?"

She asked the Snow Witch.

"..."

The Snow Witch bit her lip, ice blades crystal-clear and razor-sharp condensing around her, primed to sever the next wave of demonic plants that advanced.

Victory seemed near-impossible, but she absolutely would not allow herself to fall so easily.

"Since you're so enthusiastic, I'll gladly see this through to the end."

The Snow Witch locked eyes on the Withered Bishop.

In an instant, frost-rimmed mountainous ice spikes descended from above, bound by gravity as they hurtled toward Nedoqika.

Nedoqika smiled faintly, spinning delicately as vines swirled like shields around her, blocking the onslaught of ice peaks completely.

Before the Snow Witch could react, verdant green beams of light shot forth from Nedoqika's fingertips, plunging straight into the Snow Witch's chest.

The Snow Witch felt warmth flood her body, followed swiftly by a piercing cold spreading relentlessly.

She realized that Nedoqika's wood magic had directly eroded her mana!

She poured every ounce of effort into extinguishing the seeds of magic Nedoqika had planted within her. If too many of these spells rooted within her, she feared she wouldn't last much longer.

Vines and ice spikes intersected, beams of light clashed with frosty chill—the courtyard's battle was fierce yet carried an eerie silence, interrupted only by the occasional crack of ice and the rush of vines tearing through the air.

Gradually, the Snow Witch felt her stamina draining, her breaths growing heavier and more frequent.

In stark contrast, Nedoqika remained composed and unhurried, brimming with interest.

"It's been a long time since I've faced someone as gentle as you. The battle itself feels as light as having afternoon tea,"

Nedoqika genuinely praised.

"I can't find anything remotely enjoyable about dueling you one-on-one."

The Snow Witch forced a cold smile, maintaining her fighting stance despite her exhaustion.

"Almis, there's no need to rush. All you have to do is keep Nedoqika occupied here for now. We've stabilized things on our end; once Sigrid breaks through, we'll have a chance to turn the tide!"

Just as the Snow Witch teetered on losing hope, Abigail's voice rang out from the communication device.

The Snow Witch dodged Nedoqika's magic, glancing hurriedly at the Earth Abyss Palace transmission Abigail provided.

Her pale blue eyes, nearly silver, flickered with light.

"Hyperion, I always knew you could do it."

The Snow Witch's lips curved into a faint, gratified smile. Since her disciple was fighting so valiantly, she, as the teacher, could never falter in the face of such a formidable foe.

"..."

Simultaneously, Nedoqika seemed to have received news via the Blood Clan's communication network.

Nedoqika's delicate brows furrowed, her face flashing with a trace of confusion and disbelief.

"Impossible. How could my Saint Heir betray me?"

Nedoqika muttered softly to herself, her vine magic still relentless and troublesome.

The entire courtyard was tangled in icy frost and twisting vines, with lightning and gales raging through.

The Snow Witch faintly sensed that Nedoqika's focus had shifted away from the battle. The news of the Withered Saint Heir's betrayal transmitted by the Blood Clan was like a pebble thrown into the still waters of Nedoqika's heart, stirring ripples that gradually grew uncontrollable, masking her inner turmoil.

She swung her rod mechanically; her vine magic remained dazzlingly precise, but lacked the passion and joy it had earlier.

Time and again, the Snow Witch's attacks struck, and Nedoqika merely defended instinctively, avoiding conflict as her doubts deepened, retreating from the Snow Witch.

"If he joined the Rebirth Church, wasn't his purpose to serve me as the Bishop personally?"

Withered Bishop Nedoqika stepped back, clutching her forehead, muttering as she fought and pondered.

"..."

The Snow Witch overheard the Withered Bishop's murmuring, her eye twitching lightly at the realization.

She was beginning to suspect something about Nedoqika's personality.

Why did she seem like such a lovesick fool?

Nedoqika may have foreseen everything, except that her Saint Heir's intentions were anything but loyal devotion.

...

Near the Earth Abyss Palace, in the Crimson Abyss.

Amid collapsing ruins, Hyperion and Ulysses' deadly duel had reached its most ferocious stage.

The entire battlefield was shrouded in a storm of blood and carnage.

Ulysses was fully consumed by his berserk state.

A vicious vortex of blood-red magic swirled around him, every fiber of his being exuding terrifyingly oppressive energy.

As Ulysses recalled the power of the Blood Eagle and Blood Bear, the aura of blood surrounding him transformed into countless sharp blades, raining down an unrelenting assault upon Hyperion.

Hyperion moved ghost-like, evading Ulysses' strikes, counterattacking with agility as his claw reached for the Ancestor's throat, desperate for a final gamble.

"Damn it!"

Ulysses used psychic power to fling Hyperion away, yet he couldn't entirely escape—Hyperion's dagger tore across his neck from a distance, leaving a deep crimson gash.