Chapter 14: Angel’s Choice
A villain should act like a villain. Since she had decided to be one, she naturally wouldn’t forgive him easily.
Why should he be allowed to openly badmouth others?
Why should he expect forgiveness without any consequences?
Why should he, like everyone else, be allowed to insult her while Angel became the laughingstock of their lewd jokes?
Talking about her was fine, but she wouldn’t tolerate being overheard.
Anything goes, no taboos.
Lena’s philosophy was unconventional, yet filled with an extreme sense of individualistic selfishness.
Having experienced the baptism of fire and turmoil, Lena’s heart had become incredibly resilient. She no longer cowered from open gossip, but instead, she fought back.
To establish herself in the academy, relying solely on the power behind her wasn’t enough.
Sometimes, making an example of someone wasn’t a bad way to get a quick and easy result…
“Want to experience death?”
Lena gave the limp boy on the ground a devilish smile.
What did death taste like?
It was painful, unbearable, fleeting…
Many people pretended it didn’t exist their entire lives, only realizing how beautiful its antonym was when it truly approached.
Only after experiencing despair and death would one cherish the present even more. And the greatest fear of death was that it would brush past you, leaving you alone.
“Uh… Aaaaaah!!!”
Black flames ignited on the boy, and he writhed on the ground in agony.
Countless water droplet-shaped magic power pierced his body, blooming within the flames like tragic flowers, withering like falling leaves.
His flesh sizzled, his skin riddled with holes.
Lena watched silently, occasionally glancing at Angel, as if to say: If you had the ability to heal him, he wouldn’t be suffering so much.
Angel, with a heart as pure as an angel’s, naturally couldn’t bear to watch such a cruel scene. She looked away, unconsciously biting her lip until the taste of blood filled her mouth, only then realizing the pain.
“Do you want to save him?” Lena asked, seeing that the boy had stopped struggling, becoming motionless like a corpse. “I can.”
“You can save him?!”
Anger surged through Angel like a hungry lioness, her fiery gaze as if wanting to devour Lena whole.
For the first time, she hated someone so much. Lena had crossed too many lines, seemingly just to provoke her, not necessarily targeting the groaning boy on the ground.
“Of course, my dear angel. I can not only save him but also restore him to his original form, exactly as he was.”
Lena bent her knees slightly, the black magic flowing from her right sleeve condensing into a chair.
The gray-haired beauty crossed her legs and sat down, her eyes level with Angel’s.
“Sit.”
Lena extended her hand in a gesture of invitation.
But there was no seat. In the quiet environment, with only the chirping of cicadas, only those long, snow-lotus-like, plump, and tender legs caught Angel’s eye. Lena’s heels lifted slightly, her stocking-clad feet, like smooth chocolate, leaving the soles of her shoes, exposed to the air.
Lena invited her to sit, but didn’t provide a place to sit.
Was this a demonstration of power?
It didn’t seem like it.
What should she do?
Angel didn’t dare disobey, nor did she want to be turned into charcoal. So, she carefully sat down between Lena’s legs.
The soft, supple touch pressed against her bottom.
Angel felt like she was sitting on a soft gummy bear, the most comfortable sofa in the world incomparable to the feeling of Lena’s stocking-clad legs beneath her.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself?”
Lena’s voice came from the side, cold, sending a chill down Angel’s spine.
“No, of course not!”
Angel waved her hands repeatedly, her downcast eyes filled with anxiety. “How are you going to save him? He’s dying.”
As a Saintess Candidate, Angel couldn’t stand by and watch a life wither away before her eyes.
So, as long as she could, she would do everything in her power.
Even if he had been rude first…
Lena looked at Angel with a hint of surprise. “Among high-level necromantic spells, there’s a forbidden spell called Resurrection. As long as the body is still warm, it can bring the dead back to life, restoring flesh and bone…”
“Ah! Redemption! I remember there’s something similar in holy spells!”
Angel immediately recalled her days studying at the monastery.
The cramming education had exhausted her, almost making her give up on becoming a Saintess Candidate. Now, recalling the past, she couldn’t help but shudder.
Many long-forgotten spell structures appeared in her mind, clear and distinct.
Lena nodded. “Indeed, although the effects of necromancy and holy magic are vastly different, on some level, they are quite similar.”
Just like the simplest and most basic first-rank holy spell, Holy Light.
In necromancy, there was a similar spell called Putrefaction, often used to repair undead creations, but also possessing the ability to heal the caster.
The solution was clear.
But another obstacle stood firmly before them, like an insurmountable mountain.
“But I heard that only high-ranking Holy Knights of the Holy Inquisition can use Redemption to resurrect others, and they only have one chance per month, with extremely strict conditions. The body must be intact, the soul still present, not having passed away for too long, and not clinging to life…”
Angel was worried. This matter couldn’t be known by anyone.
Not only would it affect her candidacy as a Saintess, but it would also have a devastating impact on her reputation and future.
So, she had to save him, and she had to do it flawlessly!
For herself, and to appease the surging sense of kindness within her…
“High-ranking means rank six and above, but rank six professionals are already rare in the empire. Where are we going to find a willing cleric?”
Angel voiced her concerns.
Now, everything depended on Lena.
They were grasshoppers tied to the same rope…
Oh no!
From beginning to end, she was the only one tied to the rope, exposed to the elements, while Lena remained an observer, looking down on this filthy and disgusting world with a playful, rule-bending gaze.
“Heh.” Lena scoffed disdainfully.
“Do you have a solution?” Angel’s eyes lit up, the glint in them like a squirrel discovering a hazelnut.
“Yes, but I need your cooperation.”
“I’ll do it!”
Angel readily agreed, overjoyed, even forgetting that the instigator of all this was right in front of her.
Her face drew very close, making Lena uncomfortable with her enthusiasm. Lena frowned, slightly turning her head away. “Come to my house tonight, don’t forget.”
A fragrant breeze ruffled Angel’s pink hair, like a peony blooming at dawn and dusk.
She heartlessly left after dropping those words.
The more conscientious Angel looked back at the dying boy on the ground and cast a first-rank Holy Light spell based on her memory.
The ruptured flesh gradually healed, then burst open again, pus and blood splattering onto her face, her skirt, her small shoes…
But the Holy Light didn’t stop, spell after spell, like a gambler desperately trying to turn the tables with a maxed-out credit card.
This was the only holy spell Angel knew.
Its effect was minimal, but she could cast it repeatedly.
Finally, unable to bear the torment, the boy fainted from the excruciating pain of his wounds reopening.
Angel was helpless, her slender shoulders trembling. She buried her lonely expression in her knees, sitting on the ground, sobbing softly…
“Sister Angel, what are you doing here?”
A golden fox tail lifted her small body. The little fox girl blinked curiously, holding a disposable magic scroll bearing the Falmouth family crest…
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