Gazing at the Magic Stone powder that slowly fell from Ivyst’s palm, Lynn was at a loss for words for a long while.
Feeling his inner struggle and conflict, Ivyst’s eyes appeared dazed.
Although she really wanted to cup his chin and kiss him just like that, she still restrained the impulse deep within her heart.
If it were according to her previous status, she might have been in a hurry to use that clipped video to slander that despicable woman.
However, now that Ivyst had comprehended the dragon’s path, her status had soared, and she naturally looked down upon such inferior actions.
The highest level of conquest was always a sense of distance.
Only by playing hard to get, luring and yet eluding, could she keep a man’s heart hanging on.
After all, with Lynn’s intelligence, it was impossible for him to miss that the origin of this Imaging Magic Stone was fraught with problems.
Although the content of the picture was real, it had been edited to remove certain parts.
So instead, it was better to take a step back proactively and lie to him that it was fake.
And with the assistance of the Lie Swallowing, Lynn successfully began to doubt the witch Miss he had been loyal to and admired for the first time.
Accompanied by the carriage door being slowly pushed open, Ivyst, swaying her slender waist, slowly descended from the carriage.
The banquet was about to begin.
She was still somewhat wary of that woman Hillena.
In the dead of night at Mosgla Manor.
Having witnessed her daughter Eunice being hastily buried, and with hardly any mourners present, the heart of the woman in mourning garb was filled with sorrow and rage.
This anger was directed not only at Lynn, the chief culprit behind all this, but also at the inherently cold members of her own family.
Thus, after the funeral had concluded, she spent a long time alone by the graveyard before she slowly departed.
However, she didn’t hurry back to Mosgla Manor immediately but instead went to a private residence in the Glostiting Lower District.
As the largest district in terms of area in the Imperial Capital, the Lower City District was mainly inhabited by various middle-class citizens, ordinary civilians, and all manner of forces from all walks of life.
Although it was much more glamorous than the slums, it also had a distinctly clear divide from the Upper City where many nobles resided.
Under normal circumstances, the noblewoman in mourning garb wouldn’t even consider visiting such a place, as she felt the air here was tainted with the filth of lowborn people.
However, she was now determined to exact revenge for her daughter and thus steeled herself to take that step.
After returning to the residence, the woman in mourning garb headed straight to her room.
Having issued an order to the servants that "no one is to disturb me," she locked the door from the inside, then moved to the window, pulled the thick curtains, and extinguished all sources of light in the room.
The entire room was suddenly engulfed in darkness.
However, moments later, several eerily green candle flames, like the phantom lights of ghosts, suddenly illuminated from the ground. Continue reading on NovelHub.Côm
These were spiritual candlesticks arranged on the wooden floor in a peculiar combination, symbolizing some bizarre and indescribable existence.
Around the candlesticks, blood-red lines, as crude and fierce as fresh blood, spread in all directions and converged toward the central sacrifice.
Viewed from above, a ferocious and angry monstrous face, its mouth wide open as if to devour everything, seemed to appear.
Gazing at the scene before her, and remembering the sight of her daughter Eunice’s tragic death, a vengeful look flashed in her eyes, and the last bit of unease in her heart dissipated like smoke.
A moment later, a strange and obscure chant echoed in the room.
It sounded like a monster’s roar and also like the incoherent moans of a senile person.
If a Mysticologist or a linguist specializing in this field were present, they could easily discern that the language the woman was reciting was actually Ancient Demon Clan language.
Moreover, the configuration and style of the blood-red matrix on the ground also pointed toward a terrifying entity.
She didn’t know his name.
She only knew that on the Demon Clan’s side, He was revered as the "King of Cruelty."
Of course, with her status as a human, she was definitely not qualified to communicate with Him and receive a response.
Furthermore, compared to the Divine Position the ceremony was meant to invoke, the ritual seemed rather rudimentary.
However, what she needed was not a power comparable to that of deities.
To kill that wretch from the Bartleion family, praying to a subordinate Evil Apostle was enough.
After all, the power held by Demons was twisted and corrupt, unlike the Transcendents of the True God Church, most suitable for lurking in the shadows and ambushing.
And as far as she knew, in the Imperial City of Grossting, there was a well-publicized series of serial killings recently.
The perpetrator was none other than a Fourth Rank Demon disguised as a human, undergoing an Ascension Trial.
However, as to whether she could successfully summon it, the woman in mourning garb was somewhat uncertain.
After all, this was a method that she had acquired from the black market of Transcendents, and it had never been tested.
As the obscure and ancient Demon Clan language chant slowly came to an end, the green candle flames flickered slightly, but the room remained very calm throughout.
During this process, the woman in mourning garb faintly felt an evil gaze cast a brief glance her way, but it quickly disappeared without a trace.
Was the offering she presented not enough to move Him?
A deep sorrow welled up in the woman’s heart.
But at this point, she could not stop halfway.
According to the masked person on the black market for Transcendents, once a ritual had begun, it had to be finished smoothly; otherwise, certain indescribable things would happen in the future.