I watched from the safety of the gloom, a smug, predatory grin pulling at my lips. I expected her to shatter right then—to fall to her knees, discard that silver censer, and beg for the release I was so ready to provide. The air was thick enough to taste, a heavy mixture of her fading divinity and my rising corruption. But as I stepped forward to claim my prize, the air in the corridor didn't turn cold with despair.
It ignited.
"You think..." Elara's voice wasn't a whimper anymore. It was a roar that seemed to vibrate from the very marrow of her bones. "A few whispers... and some foul smoke... can break a vow sanctified by the Sun itself!?"
[Warning: Target is Overloading Mana!]
[Skill Active: Martyr's Radiance — Burning Life Force for Divine Power]
Elara stood up, her golden hair whipping around her face like a storm of white fire. The Arousal Mist wasn't just filtered this time; it was incinerated. A shockwave of pure, blinding heat blasted outward, turning the pink haze into nothingness in a split second. The Mana-Drain Floor Tiles beneath her shattered under the sheer pressure of her spiritual output.
I was caught off guard. The blast hit me like a physical hammer, throwing my body back. I hit the stone wall with a bone-jarring thud, the wind knocked out of me as my [Stealth] shattered like glass.
"Dammit!" I spat, coughing up the metallic taste of blood. I scrambled to look at the system screen hovering in the smoke.
[Dungeon Integrity: Critical Damage on Level 2]
[Target Elara: Status — Transcendent State (Immune to all Status Effects for 300 seconds)]
I realized then that I had underestimated the weight of a Level 8 soul. When backed into a corner, a High Priestess was less like a woman and more like a dying star. She was bleeding—bright, golden ichor leaking from her eyes and nose—but she didn't care. She was burning her own lifespan just to keep the darkness at bay for a few more minutes.
She didn't look back. She knew she couldn't save Sarah or Marcus today. She turned and ran toward the surface, her body a streak of golden light that carved a path through the shadows.
"Silas! Stop her!" I screamed, clutching my cracked ribs.
The Shadow Merchant lunged from the ceiling vents, his obsidian daggers aimed for her hamstrings. But Elara didn't even slow down. She swung her silver censer like a flail, the holy fire trailing from it cauterizing the shadows. Silas was sent flying into the wall, his form flickering like a dying candle as he hissed in agony.
I watched the [Detection] map. The red dot representing Elara was moving at an impossible speed, bursting through the hollow tree and out into the forest.
[Intruder Escaped.]
[Dungeon Points Lost: 500 (Repair Costs)]
I stood in the wreckage of the smoking hallway, my breath coming in ragged gasps. For the first time, I felt a tremor of genuine fear. She was gone. She was going back to the Capital, back to the Grand Commander.
"She's going to tell them," I whispered to the empty, scorched hallway. "She's going to bring an army."
But then, I looked down. On the floor, where she had collapsed, were splatters of her golden blood. It wasn't just holy; it was tainted with the residue of my mist. She had escaped, but she hadn't left clean.
"Let her run," I growled, a dark, bruised smile returning to my face. "Every time her husband touches her, she'll remember this heat. Now... I have exactly what I need to bring her back."