111 - The Butler Dismissed by the Saintess Couldn’t Possibly Be the Demon Dragon Princess

### Chapter 111: Futile Struggles "If... if I haven't really done that kind of thing with Ian, what would you do then?" Liliane's face flushed slightly as she addressed this topic, a subject that always left her feeling bashful. She wouldn't have brought it up if the other version of herself hadn't insisted on discussing it. Silver-haired Liliane touched her chin thoughtfully for a moment before giving a reluctant nod. "If, in the end, you really haven't done that with Sister Ian, let's just pretend our agreement never existed. How about that?" "Alright," golden-haired Liliane conceded, realizing she didn't have a better option. The only one she could rely on right now was her other self. Plus, the condition wasn't too demanding. After all, it only involved the time when such a thing happened with Ian, and whether that would occur depended on her decision. In the instant golden-haired Liliane agreed, silver-haired Liliane, who had had her eyes tightly shut, suddenly opened them. Her once crimson eyes now sparkled with a deep blue hue. The previously unassuming, almost fragile presence of Liliane transformed into one shrouded in unfathomable depths, akin to an endless abyss. The abyss now set its gaze upon the crowd gathered in front of her, those eager to burn her and Ian. Everyone who felt her gaze shivered involuntarily, sensing they were being targeted by something dreadfully dangerous—an imminent threat of death. Immediately, the scene descended into chaos. The Holy Knights maintained a degree of composure, but the onlooking civilians scattered in various directions in panic. “Run! The infected one has awoken, she'll kill us all!” “I told you we should have burned them sooner, but no one listened. Now we're all doomed!” “Why panic? We have the Holy Knights with us. Surely an infected can't wreak much havoc here.” Amidst all this, shouts and lamentations intertwined into a cacophony that was anything but melodious. "Silence!" The lead knight's booming voice regained control over the frenzied crowd. "Rest assured, with us Holy Knights here, an insignificant infected one cannot cause any significant harm." Despite his resolute tone, deep down, the knight lacked confidence. The formidable aura emanating from silver-haired Liliane was daunting, even for someone of his caliber. After all, he was a renowned talent within the kingdom, reaching a bloodline development of over fifty-five percent—a level considered impressive even among the Holy Knights. Yet, facing silver-haired Liliane, he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling of confronting an unconquerable foe. "Enough games. It's my turn now." Silver-haired Liliane’s voice carried an otherworldly eeriness, as if it didn't emanate from her lips but from the depths of hell. She effortlessly severed the thick ropes binding her and Ian as if they were mere threads. Soaring through the air, she swooped down to catch Ian, who was about to fall into the fire after the ropes were cut. Ian, having inhaled too much smoke, was already unconscious. Her cherry blossom-like lips emitted a delicate fragrance with every breath, an allure that ensnared the senses. Liliane couldn’t help but touch Ian’s soft, tender face with her fingers. The touch caused Ian to furrow her brows tighter, letting out a sound so adorably shy that it could melt hearts innumerable times over. "Too cute!" Liliane poked Ian’s cheeks again with a doting smile. But quickly, her expression shifted to a cold, piercing gaze directed at the crowd around them. "You dare harm my Sister Ian, unforgivable." Her voice sent chills through the spines of all who heard, their bodies trembling involuntarily. The knight gripped his sword tighter, suppressing his fear, and commanded, "All knights, form up! Protect the civilians!" Upon receiving the command, members of the Holy Knights quickly assembled, forming a human wall in front of silver-haired Liliane. But their movements appeared laughably slow to her, like watching a video in slow motion. "Futile struggle," she murmured with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Holy Judgment: Binding Light." Chains of dark light burst forward, snaring the knights before they could fully organize. The power behind the binding used by silver-haired Liliane vastly exceeded that of the chains golden-haired Liliane had deployed during the Holy Trials. Moreover, a distinct aura emanated from these chains—an aura Ian would have immediately recognized as miasma if awake. The knight stared, wide-eyed, at the black chains binding him, voicing incredulously, "Impossible, this cannot be." His shock was understandable; this skill was originally exclusive to the blood lineage of the saintess, and only Aelia possessed it. How could a child seemingly out of nowhere perform this ability? Could anyone maintain their composure in such a situation? Moreover, he felt his body being gradually consumed by the unique aura infecting the chains. "I won't last much longer if this continues," the knight realized, clenching his jaw. Out of desperation, he called upon his power, "Sword of the Holy." A white halo manifested around the knight, condensing into a giant white sword that exuded a dangerous aura sensed by all, save for silver-haired Liliane. The knight wielded the sword, aiming to slash through the chains binding him. Yet, as soon as the blade touched the chains, its power was absorbed, as if merging with the vast expanse of an ocean.