Chapter 377: Joint Suppression

Why kill him?

Isn’t he already dead?

Faced with Liya’s counter-question, Muen froze on instinct.

At first hearing, what Liya said sounded like nonsense. Right—why were they still thinking about killing the prisoner in front of them?

Life–death conversion, life–death conversion.

Under the Goddess’s authority, statues—dead things—had been turned into living magic hounds.

Whereas this prisoner before them was precisely the opposite: from a living being into a lifeless alchemical item!

He was already dead, so there was no need to kill him again!

“So you’re saying we can purify him directly?”

Muen snapped his head around, fixing on Liya, excitement flashing in his eyes.

“Mm. In theory, yes. His soul is being forcibly imprisoned in this alchemical object right now. A soul that does not naturally belong can be purified directly.”

Liya nodded hard, then spoke a bit haltingly:

“But...”

“But?”

“But... during purification, at least someone has to be able to pin him down.”

At the side, Freya took the thread with a smile, as if Liya’s words had just cleared the knot in her own thinking too.

“Right?”

Muen ignored Freya and simply looked quietly at Liya.

“She’s not wrong.”

Liya sneaked a glance at Muen with her clear, watery eyes and said a little shyly:

“Purification is a fragile technique. Even if it’s a dead thing—if it resists, it can’t be carried out.”

“...”

The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched; it felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over his heart, and most of his joy evaporated on the spot.

Of course it wouldn’t be that simple.

Silently, he looked toward the prisoner.

Under the replica All-Knowing Eye’s power to see through, the prisoner’s essence was laid bare to everyone. But that act seemed to enrage him as well. With mournful blood-tears flowing, the prisoner who had been briefly suppressed slowly stood up again.

The lantern swayed; miasma-wind surged. With that hoarse sobbing, the ragged cloth wrapped around the prisoner was like a soul-summoning banner.

A terrifying aura spread from him, wordlessly declaring to all that he was not merely a soulless switch to control magic hounds.

“Judging by his aura, before being remade into an alchemical object, he was at least a Fifth Rank warrior.”

Fifth Rank—plus the properties of an alchemical item. To suppress him—and suppress him so completely he couldn’t budge—how was that supposed to be easy?

It was about as difficult as riding a dragon beneath you and doing as you pleased... with the greater likelihood that you’d be the one ridden beneath and done with as they pleased.

“Sorry.”

Liya kneaded the hem of her dress in self-reproach.

If only her Purification were stronger, if it wouldn’t be disturbed, then...

“It’s not on you.”

Muen couldn’t help but rub her cute little head.

“You’re already amazing—much better than those others who’ve been goofing off till now.”

“Who are you calling someone who only goofs off!”

Anne folded her frank-and-fearless little chest in her arms, her slim brows shooting up high.

This guy—every word out of his mouth is infuriating!

The other Saintess candidates and their knights, though they said nothing, all cast him meaningful looks.

Muen acted as if he didn’t see them. He simply tightened his grip on Elizabeth and chuckled:

“You all heard what Liya just said. This isn’t the time to hold back. Hurry and take out whatever ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) you’ve been keeping at the bottom of your chests.”

Chosen by the Church to stand here as Saintess candidates, and the geniuses handpicked for that seat—Muen didn’t believe for a second that the little bit they’d shown earlier was all they had.

Or rather, this very predicament was itself a link in the Church’s test.

And if it was a test, it wouldn’t truly drive people to utter despair.

“Muen is right. Since we know the solution, we should naturally go all out.”

Freya stepped forward first, the smile on her face still holy and gentle, calming many who had panicked under the hounds’ siege—as if they had found a backbone to lean on.

“My reaction was a little slow just now and seems to have made Muen angry. This time, I’ll go first.”

An unreadable glint flickered in Freya’s eyes. She suddenly extended a slender jade hand and pointed at the prisoner.

In an instant, the eye that revealed the prisoner’s true nature slid to hover over his head, then spun rapidly, whirring.

Fine lines raced across the eyeball-like object; blinding golden light seeped from the grooves—and then, limitless light and heat burst out from within the All-Knowing Eye!

Under the blistering suppression, the prisoner who had only just stood up again actually showed signs of his knees bending.

Self-detonation!

Freya had chosen to blow up this precious ancient relic without a hint of distress!

“It’s only a replica.”

Freya’s lips curved slightly. She called softly:

“Brian.”

“Yes.”

A fervent reply rose from the shadows.

The pale-faced man surfaced from darkness. He pressed both hands to the ground with force; the darkness beneath his feet spread at once, turning into a mire that swallowed the prisoner’s legs.

The prisoner’s body swayed, as if sinking under the black bog’s devouring. The lantern shook more violently than ever.

“Ah... Goddess...”

In that moment, the prisoner’s wail grew even more piteous—yet in those hollow eyes, flames seemed to flicker up.

Flames of wrath!

Brian’s body trembled. The massive backlash he felt nearly knocked him off his feet.

But he clenched his jaw and dragged the enraged prisoner down, inch by inch.

“Shadow magic?”

Phil’s eyes lit with interest. “Not bad.”

“Not the time for snide remarks.”

Veins bulged on Brian’s forehead.

“I can’t hold much longer!”

“Alright, alright—men who get all jumpy aren’t cute.”

Phil stretched lazily; even her wide mage robe couldn’t hide the figure that made Anne’s expression darken.

She drew a staff taller than a person. Without chanting, she thrust it toward the prisoner.

Vast mana surged. In an instant, a dense grinding of bones erupted from the prisoner’s body, and his whole figure sank by a good half in a heartbeat.

Gravity Magic!

Everyone started. When Phil had summoned a giant serpent earlier, they’d assumed she was from the Summoning School; they hadn’t expected her to wield something this powerful with ease as well.

“Hundredfold Gravity Magic should keep him from thrashing around for just a little bit. Little Lei-lei, it’s your turn.”

“Don’t call me Little Lei-lei!”

The adventurer known as Thunder Lance bristled, then launched like a tiger. A black long spear struck like thunder, wrapped in unstoppable momentum, and smashed down on the prisoner’s shoulder.

“Ah...”

The prisoner’s body jolted. The tadpole-like golden runes on him blazed. A colossal force—utterly unreasonable—erupted from that withered frame, almost tearing free of the darkness at his feet.

The spear at his shoulder and the glow of the surrounding spells seemed to waver under that power.

“Rayta!”

“Paul!”

Just as he was about to break the bindings of those mighty forces, two figures—one large, one small—closed in without giving him a breath.

“Roar!”

“Divine Will Style, Severing Snow!”

An assault that seemed to rip open space arrived right on cue. The terrible power within the prisoner hadn’t yet detonated before it was forced back, hard.

He staggered. Under the combined effort of several people, his body was pressed lower and lower until he was forced to his knees again.

“Not even ten seconds.”

Muen took out his pocket watch, glanced at it casually, and sighed:

“Worthy of high-quality human elites. Truly impressive.”