Chapter 227: Let Go of Her - Stop Hypnotizing Me, Villainous Princess!

The followers of the Silent Church are mostly women, and its doctrines don’t prohibit them from marrying and having children. Love and being loved are inherent rights of humanity. Coupled with this world’s feudal backdrop, it is difficult for women to participate in various professions like on Blue Planet. Thus, even the Goddess of the Moon, who detests men, doesn’t deprive her followers of the right to form families. Of course, this only applies to ordinary believers. For the clergy within the church, dedicating their entire lives to the goddess means marriage and childbirth are strictly forbidden. Falling in love with a man is absolutely not allowed. Once confirmed, they are sent to the inquisition. This explains Louise’s prior hostility towards Shia. Perhaps due to Beatrice's distorted and morbid beliefs, this form of spiritual purity obsession was born. In her view, love is the ugliest thing in the world. Like an apple freshly plucked from a tree, crisp and juicy at first, it inevitably oxidizes and wrinkles over time until it rots entirely, swarmed by maggots and flies, emitting a stench. To her, possessing the authority over "beauty", such ugliness, even if only glanced at, would make her nauseous. Thus, after accessing memories of Tia and Lynn’s intimate interaction, her fury knew no bounds. The years spent selecting countless vessels led to every Holy Maiden wilting prematurely, making the Silent Saint seem like a short-lived profession from an external perspective. In her eyes, although past vessels were devout and adhered to her created doctrine without ever contacting any opposite sex, they never met her stringent standards. As a vessel on the path to deification, perfection is the baseline. Finding such a rare body from the Elven Court that she could resurrect into, only to stumble upon loyalty issues, was unexpected. Despite her seemingly weak demeanor, the resolve and determination she showed when threatening her were no joke. Moreover, Even without full control over this body, Beatrice sensed a subtle turmoil deep within, causing her heart to tense instantly. With her teeth clenched, she mentally imposed a directive upon herself. She must use the most terrifying methods in the world to... No! Why did she think Lynn Bartleyon is handsome?! Instantly, Beatrice’s expression changed dramatically. The moon's ethereal light fluctuated violently with her emotions. Her gaze, filled with endless murderous intent, halted on Tia’s remaining faint consciousness. Only then did the Moon Goddess realize the "curse" the other mentioned was no bluff. This unease, this previously revolting notion, seemed ingrained into the vessel’s being as if it had become an inherent instinct unbeknownst to her. It’s easy to foresee certain undesirable changes would occur should she truly occupy this vessel. She faced two choices. Either retreat back to the divine realm, temporarily suspend this plan for a future opportunity. Or grimace and occupy this body, finding a way later to deal with the suggestion within it. The first option was immediately dismissed. Her true consciousness had long been polluted by demonic whispers, and this split remnant was the most sanity she could maintain. Returning to the divine realm wouldn't just mean being unable to find another vessel soon but would also stain this final sanctuary. Then, she would lose every opportunity. Yet the second option, sickening her to the core, was akin to forcing a vegetarian to taste meat. For a being of her stature to love a human boy less significant than an insect was more painful than death. Beatrice's icy gaze lingered on Tia’s figure, seeing only a frail, pale face. Somehow, despite facing doom, her lips still curled into a slight smile. Rage overwhelmed. "You wretched, vile thief!!!" In that instant, Beatrice lost all reason, her luminescent-wrapped right hand rising swiftly, eyes filled with murderous intent. At this moment, the only thing she desired was to inflict tortures a million times worse than any illusion of pain onto this cursed "mistake." She wanted her to regret ever being born into this world. "Wow" Inside the ceremonial hall. As the high-hanging white full moon emitted its glow, everyone’s gaze was inevitably drawn upwards, involuntary gasps escaping lips. Even Shirley couldn’t help but be captivated by the flowing moonlight, her eyes glimmering with awe. It was a beauty surpassing human comprehension, resonating with the soul. After all, the deity possessing the authority over "beauty" could evoke such sentiments effortlessly. However, Yveste, sitting on the other side, merely rolled her eyes in disdain observing the celestial shift. "Showy bitch." She muttered inwardly. Clearly, even facing the Moon Goddess’s unintentional revelation, she felt disdain deep within, a hint of hostility rising. Perhaps due to the curse mark on her face, her perception of the Silent Church had always been negative. "Woof, woof." At that moment, a soft whimpering came from her feet. Yveste looked down to find a fluffy white puppy curling at her ankles. Nearby, Eleanor gently picked up the little puppy named "Lynn," chuckling as she pet its head. "Your Highness, she seems quite attached to you." Eleanor whispered. The Bartleyon family had not received an invitation from the Silent Church, but Yveste couldn’t refuse Eleanor’s plea and brought her along. At this comment, the princess showed a trace of disdain: "Keep it away, it’s filthy." "Alright." Seeing the puppy's slightly aggrieved face, Eleanor giggled but didn’t expose her. After all, it’s tied to her brother’s life. If she truly hated it, the princess wouldn't let it be so carefully tended and inquire about it occasionally. Yet, Yveste, unaware of Eleanor’s thoughts, kept watching her surroundings. Instinct told her that her unruly pup would show up during tonight’s Moonlight Ceremony. And the pup’s current agitation might just indicate that Lynn, linked to it by fate, was nearby. Thus, Yveste's vigilance heightened to an extreme. She mused, suddenly interrupted by astonished gasps followed by whispers. "What... what is that?" "I can't see clearly, it looks like a shadow." "Is this the revelation from this descent ceremony?" "Perhaps..." Whispers mixed with shock and hesitation, as if people had an idea but dared not voice it. Watching, Yveste looked up. At that instant, a pitch-black shadow appeared over the moon. Its contour stood clear. Anyone with normal vision could perceive its form at a glance. Flamboyant yet tattered wings, a grotesque sneering face, a colossal, deformed body—though just a symbolic shadow, not solid. Yet the evil contained almost overflowed. Almost every Moonlight Ceremony had such a segment. People would perceive prophetic images on the moon and, through interpretation, acquire valuable insights. For many years, this segment had always been accurate. Yet this time, collectively they saw an ominous spectacle. Guests exchanged anxious glances, believers prayed in fear, and even clergy looked grim, unprepared for such an outcome. A tapestry of human behavior unfolded before all. For they well knew what they saw in the moonlit revelation. A devil’s presence. Inside the Pantheon, The End Witch donned her usual torn black gown, barefooted, stood at the hall’s center. At this moment, her expression was icy, quietly watching the cocoon of light before her. It had been long since her followers left the Pantheon. During this period, fueled by anger, she completely blocked out the prayers and calls directed towards her, opting for cold detachment. In their usual interactions, although there might have been moments of intimacy and fluttering hearts, out of respect for her, Lynn had never once argued with her. This was unlike Yveste. At first, the Witch thought it was because she held a special place in his heart. However, upon accessing the fresh memories from ten thousand years ago, the Witch genuinely caught fire. Due to the obstruction of the river of time and the seals, she found it hard to monitor Lynn’s every move, and all past information she gathered was from Yveste's memories. Thus, she knew nothing about what transpired between Lynn and Tia. She could only deduce the events from a third-person perspective and fragmented information. From the still unbroken chains of order, it seemed that he had not followed her command to use the Mark of Corruption to enslave Tia. According to memories from ten thousand years ago, after the Tomb of the Silent ended, her follower was seemingly captured by the Silent Maiden named Tia. It took several days before the church retrieved her. One could infer what transpired during that time. Discovering that her devoted follower might have developed such a relationship with her mortal enemy drove the Witch to a breaking point. Standing silently before the moonlit cocoon of light, dissipating life’s essence, she gazed at the petite girl. After prolonged silence, she did nothing against the girl. Her enemy was the Moon Goddess, Beatrice, and her overflowing murderous intent was solely directed at Beatrice, not this already deceased vessel. Moreover, this vessel had caused Beatrice and others considerable trouble in the past; otherwise, Shia and the others wouldn’t have chosen to divide and seal it within the Pantheon. As they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Witch could grasp this basic logic. Upon realizing this, a wave of frustration and anger surged within her. Though she hated the thought, she couldn’t ignore the possibility that her follower had betrayed her, allying with that vile woman, Beatrice. Over ten thousand years, she had faced countless betrayals and injuries, yet Lynn’s presence remained unique to the End Witch. He was like a beacon in the darkness, illuminating her desolate heart, rekindling a survival instinct, and vaguely yearning for a perhaps non-existent beautiful future with him. The Witch clenched her pale fist. Then, an almost imperceptible heartbeat resounded in her ears. Instantly, the End Witch snapped her head up, eyes filled with doubt and suspicion, gazing into the cocoon of light. The girl's expression remained serene, her chest unmoving. An illusion? The Witch furrowed her brows slightly. **Divine Moon Rift.** Incandescent moonlight force crashed against the already crumbling battlefield, as if a terrifying deity flaunted its majesty. Beatrice’s heart was brimming with unparalleled rage. Though she couldn't fare well herself, she was determined to make the contemptible entity understand the magnitude of existence she defied! All this because of one boy. Beatrice's voice echoed in the boundless void. "Foolish being," her voice laden with emotion. "For a filthy man, you've committed the betrayal of your faith. Even killing you couldn't quell a fraction of my fury." "Beg for mercy, weep! Then in endless agony... repent!!!" An onslaught, surpassing torment incarnate a millionfold, swept towards Tia's consciousness. Watching the hellish scene before her, the girl slowly closed her eyes. Farewell. She whispered inwardly, unsure to whom it was directed. Yet the expected pain never came. In an instant, the fervent moonlit force seemingly paused, stilling the entire Divine Moon Rift. Simultaneously, a familiar voice resounded near Tia's ear. That voice was laced with boundless fury, harboring hatred and malice that threatened to consume the world, articulating each word with bitter clarity. "Hey, bitch." The boy clutched Beatrice’s throat, his expression deranged and fierce. "Let her go."