The judgment magic beam Tina had condensed was originally precisely locked onto Riya on the cross, but at the last moment, it was completely absorbed by a figure that flew in abruptly.
Boom–!
The pure white, blazing purification beam struck No.3 solidly, erupting with blinding light and energy shockwaves.
From within the light came No.3’s barely suppressed grunt of pain.
When the light faded, No.3’s figure reappeared.
His originally neat clothing was now tattered, and his exposed skin showed large areas of charred black, as if burned by high-temperature flames.
Although the Blood Race’s powerful regeneration was slowly repairing these wounds, the reality and severity of the injuries were enough to make every knowledgeable person present narrow their eyes.
No.3 grinned, revealing his fangs that had been loosened by the energy impact.
He moved his charred arm, producing faint sounds of tearing flesh, but casually looked up at Tina on the judgment seat, his scarlet pupils flickering with a light of scrutiny and sudden realization.
“You woman,”
No.3’s voice carried a post-injury hoarseness, but it echoed unusually clearly in the silent hall.
“you’re not a pure human, are you?”
He paused, as if analyzing or stating an obvious fact.
“A human mage—even a genius specializing in light magic—could never master purification magic of such a high rank and with such a strong specific effect against the Blood Race.”
These words were not only said to Tina, but also to everyone present.
Yize’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
He knew No.3’s strength level better than anyone present—this was the Third Seat of the Blood Race, capable of confronting the Imperial Sword Saint Laura Elwin head-on and even gaining the upper hand at one point.
His defense, recovery, and magic resistance were far beyond ordinary high-level Blood Race.
Yet, Tina’s single judgment magic had actually caused him substantial damage that couldn’t heal instantly?
This was unreasonable.
Just as No.3 said, unless this woman was not human.
And Yize looked at Tina, vaguely feeling that the aura on her body was similar to the elves he had seen…
The trial was interrupted by this sudden disturber, and the entire Ten Holy Temples fell into an eerie silence.
All eyes—shocked, fearful, angry, confused—simultaneously turned toward the direction of the main entrance.
Including Riya on the cross.
She lifted her head with difficulty, her silver hair soaked with sweat, sticking to her pale cheeks.
Those eyes, slightly unfocused from weakness and pain, suddenly sharpened the moment they made out the figure at the entrance.
Yize.
He had come.
At this time, in a way she never expected, appearing here.
Countless questions flashed through Riya’s mind:
Why were there Blood Pillars she had just recently defeated and captured following behind him?
How had he escaped from that mysterious black-robed figure?
But all these chaotic thoughts became unimportant the moment she truly saw Yize standing there completely unharmed.
An indescribable feeling of endless grievance overwhelmed the psychological defenses she had barely maintained.
He was alive, he was safe.
This realization made her nerves, strained to the limit, suddenly relax, followed by immense bitterness.
She almost subconsciously turned her head, not wanting Yize to see her current miserable state, nailed to the cross and being judged.
Proud as she was, she didn’t want to show weakness even in the face of death, but when facing this person, all her strength seemed so fragile.
Her eyes uncontrollably heated up, reddened, and her vision quickly blurred.
Crystalline teardrops escaped her will, sliding down her dust-and-blood-stained cheeks, leaving clear wet trails.
‘If Yize hadn’t come, she could grit her teeth, face everything with coldness and silence, and not shed a single tear until the end of her life.’
‘But Yize had come.’
‘In front of the person she liked, all the grievance, exhaustion, loneliness, and fear buried deep in her heart over the years—belonging to “Riya” not “the heir of Yalseed”—found an outlet and burst out instantly.’
‘Over the years, under her sister Angelica’s almost strict molding, she had indeed successfully become a qualified, even perfect, heir of the family as a “male.”‘
‘Strong, cold, decisive, steady—these labels were firmly attached to her, becoming the mask she had to wear when facing the outside world.’
‘Only she knew that the real, “female” Riya had never disappeared.’
‘She still secretly missed the beautiful skirts she briefly owned as a child, liked delicate and cute little objects, and occasionally, in the quiet of the night, fantasized about being able to lay down all burdens, to be protected and treasured.’
‘She had asked herself more than once why she was so fixated on Yize, why he was so special.’
‘Was it because of the silhouette of that black-haired boy who unhesitatingly stood in front of her in the dark Pighead dungeon, and the unchanged look in his eyes after learning her true gender?’
‘Was it because under the effect of that strange “potion,” she had unreservedly revealed her girlish willfulness, dependence, and coyness in front of him, and that unexpected kiss imprinted in the heart?’
‘Or was it because, like now, every time she was in crisis or on the brink of despair, he always appeared miraculously, like light piercing through darkness?’
‘Perhaps, all of it.’
And when Yize’s eyes finally passed through the crowd and met hers in the air, Riya clearly saw the anger in his eyes that instantly rose as if it would materialize.
That anger was not a violent uproar, but an ultimate coldness, so cold that the temperature of the surrounding air seemed to drop a few degrees.
Especially when Yize saw her turn away, but couldn’t hide her tear-streaked, aggrieved expression…
Yize’s mood fell to an icy valley at that moment.
What did he see?
Riya was nailed to that damn cross, her limbs pierced by special long spikes, bloodstained and weak.
Her neat black clothing was torn in many places, revealing skin with bruises and bloodstains underneath.
Because of the rush, he hadn’t had time to repair the [Misty Shadow Cloak] that could blur his presence.
Originally, he had thought that since he couldn’t completely hide his trail, he would face the Imperial Royal Family and the Ten Holy Temples in a relatively “peaceful” way—present evidence, state facts, and fight for Riya’s innocence and justice within the framework of law and rules.
He didn’t want to completely fall out with this country, at least not now, not in this way.
But the moment he saw Riya’s current state, all the weighing, all the concerns, all the “peaceful” plans were burned cleanly away by the heart-igniting anger.
“To hell with this damn empire.”
Yize muttered to himself, his voice as cold as the polar wind.
He remembered the evaluations of the Olay Empire by experienced adventurers from all over in Stana—closed, decayed, rigid, and endlessly infighting.
Now it seemed they were absolutely right.
This country, from its roots, was already rotten.
It didn’t deserve a guardian like Riya, and even less did it deserve to judge her.
Yize’s aura completely changed.
No more disguise, no more restraint—the pure, extreme life pressure originating from his maxed-out physical stats, mixed with overwhelming anger and bone-chilling killing intent, swept outward like a tangible wave.
The Blood Pillars closest to him—including the heavily injured No.1, charred No.3, Bart, Chise, and others—all involuntarily stiffened, feeling an instinctive shiver from the life level.
It was not bloodline suppression, but a more fundamental, primitive reaction when facing an absolute existence that could not be understood or resisted.
Yize did not look at anyone; his gaze was only locked on the cross on the central platform and Riya on it.
He took a step.
One step, two steps. The pace was not fast, but extraordinarily heavy and steady.
“Stop these intruders! Kill them all!”
On the judgment seat, Tina recovered from her initial shock, her stunning face covered with frost and anger.
The trial was openly interrupted, the sacred ritual defiled—this was the most blatant provocation to the authority of the Ten Holy Temples.
With her command, the Holy Knight Order dedicated to the Ten Holy Temples, already poised, instantly activated.
Dozens of figures in silver-white armor and capes embroidered with the Emblem of the Ten Saints appeared from both sides of the hall like unsheathed swords.
They were well-trained, coordinated perfectly, with Aura and sacred magic light complementing each other.
They formed battle formations and surrounded Yize and the Blood Pillars behind him from multiple directions, locking onto every “invader” with fierce killing intent.
However, these Holy Knights couldn’t even get within ten meters of Yize.
Two blood-red shadows were faster than them.
Bart’s massive body charged out like a cannonball, his fist covered in dark red Blood Armor striking out simply and violently.
No fancy techniques, only pure power and speed.
The three Holy Knights in the front, along with their condensed holy light shields, were blasted backward by this punch, crashing heavily into distant stone pillars, armor dented, spitting blood, instantly losing combat effectiveness.
On the other side, Chise’s figure flickered like a ghost.
Her speed was so fast that she left a series of faint red afterimages in the air.
Her slender fingers struck out like butterflies among flowers, each finger accurately landing on the weak points of the Holy Knights’ armor joints, or directly piercing through magical shields to hit vital points.
The Holy Knights struck fell to the ground limp, as if their bones had been removed, losing all mobility.
In just one exchange, the encirclement formation of the Holy Knight Order was torn open with two huge gaps.
Yize’s steps didn’t even pause for half a second, still walking toward the central platform.
Bart shook his wrist, glanced at the Holy Knights he had sent flying, and explained to Yize in a booming voice:
“Don’t misunderstand. We stepped in because, essentially, the one on the stage is also our ‘compatriot.'”
“Moreover, my Lord Kasimir truly admires her.”
Chise also landed lightly not far from Yize’s side, her clear, cold voice carrying undisguised sarcasm:
“More importantly, I find these humans utterly disgusting.”
“If it weren’t for the one on the stage, we would have devoured large territories in the central part of the empire as planned. How could these nobles have the chance to talk loudly and judge others here?”
“And yet, they turned around and nailed the ‘hero’ who saved their territory to a cross.”
“So hypocritical. No wonder my Lord is determined to overthrow this rotten empire and establish a new order of our own.”
Their words instantly ignited the already panicked noble seats.
“Blood Race! It really is the Blood Race commander!”
“I remember now! That big guy… is one of the Blood Race leaders who attacked my territory!”
“That woman is another! My family guard died half in her hands!”
“They really are together! Rhea Alside really colluded with the Blood Race!”
“Run! Run! The Blood Race is coming in!”
Terrified screams, desperate cries, and the chaotic clatter of tables and chairs mixed together.
The usually high-and-mighty, elegant lords and ladies were now showing their ugliest sides, scrambling to escape this judgment hall that had suddenly become a cage.
However, the moment the first person rushed near the main entrance—
Buzz—
Countless scorching red fire lines emerged out of thin air, crisscrossing, instantly weaving an impenetrable huge fire net at all exits, windows, and even the dome skylight of the hall.
The blazing high temperature distorted the air. The approaching nobles’ hair curled, their skin burned, and they retreated screaming.
At the same time, the ground trembled, and thick earth-yellow rock walls rose from the ground, closely combining with the fire walls to form a dual barrier of physical and elemental.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.