Her heart was beating fast, and she had imagined countless possibilities.
If she really was pregnant, she could never return to the Goddess Cult; otherwise, it would likely cost not only her own life, but her child’s as well.
Clearly, she was carrying the Witch’s Seed, yet she had no choice but to give birth. But she couldn’t bear to get rid of her own child, especially since the medical standards in this other world were not advanced.
She’d heard that aborting a child was painful, and very dangerous.
She would have to flee far away, find a remote village, raise the child on her own, and tell her daughter that her mother had died long ago.
However, after waiting for so long, the Signal Stone still hadn’t lit up.
Millie froze for a moment, then a look of delight bloomed on her face.
“That’s wonderful! I’m not pregnant!—”
Millie jumped up, and her towel went flying off.
Well, of course! How could she be that unlucky? It’s already difficult for girls to conceive together—she’d heard it took an average of 300 times to successfully get pregnant!
Moreover, both sides had to be in their ovulation period for it to work.
If their timing was off, they’d have to adjust their cycles to synchronize.
“Ugh, it’s so cold!…”
Millie shivered, only then realizing her towel had disappeared without a trace.
She returned to the side of her Camp, put on her underwear, the pure cotton fabric bringing her a particular sense of security. Now, she didn’t have to be bullied by that wicked Big Sister Witch anymore.
Next came the pure white Saintess Robe.
It was custom-made in advance, blessed by the goddess. If Leona questioned her about the robe from the Dungeon, she’d just say that one was a cheap imitation.
Anyway, once the Saintess Robe was torn, the blessing would be gone.
“This is what you call erasing all evidence!~~”
Millie grinned mischievously,
With practiced speed, she packed away her Camp and camping gear.
Millie leapt onto a tree branch, scanning her surroundings in search of the Witch’s Stronghold.
After last night’s attack, the witches had likely all fled. Even if any hadn’t, they’d have been captured by the Goddess Cult by now, right?
Still, she had to go back and take a look.
First, to destroy evidence; second, she wanted to look for any clues left by that scoundrel. She didn’t even know what the villain looked like, or their name!
There was no way that villain had been captured.
If she had been, Millie would have been ratted out already. The Pope would have ordered her arrest immediately, rather than calmly probing her as he did.
From the direction of the Stronghold, she saw a plume of black smoke drifting up.
This was the usual style of the Goddess Cult: after destroying a Stronghold, they’d always burn it to the ground. Millie frowned and nimbly moved from branch to branch.
In no time, she returned to the witches’ Stronghold.
The vast place had already been reduced to ashes.
Charred, crooked walls, collapsed beams. The flames had long since died out, leaving only thick black smoke and a pungent, burnt smell.
The ground was covered with fragments of brick and stone, and twisted, deformed objects.
Millie stepped into the ruins, searching for any clue.
The entrance to the basement was gone—probably burned away too. If only she could find some evidence left by that wretch; this time, she absolutely wouldn’t let her go!
Suddenly, Millie spotted a glowing orb floating in midair.
She paused for a moment, quickened her pace, dodged collapsed beams, leapt over debris, and arrived at what used to be the conference room.
The orb lost its color and slowly landed on the conference table.
“This is…”
A Letter, and a Recording Stone?
Millie had a bad feeling, but reluctantly opened the Letter.
“Dearest Millie, you probably thought I was dead, right? Sorry, I left the Stronghold before the battle began.”
“I really miss the days we spent together. Your delicate voice and soft body made Big Sister so very satisfied, you know?”
“For the time being, we probably won’t see each other. But don’t forget, you will always be mine.”
“On your body, there’s a mark Big Sister left behind.”
“As for the Recording Stone, it’s filled with our memories. Don’t worry, Big Sister has kept the full version and will admire your shy side every day, okay?”
“Then, I’ll look forward to the day we meet again~~”
“With love, your Big Sister Witch.”
Millie gnashed her teeth, wishing she could tear that witch to pieces.
“Wait a second!…”
Could it be the Recording Stone contained that scoundrel’s appearance?
Suppressing her excitement, Millie activated the Recording Stone to play its images.
Sure enough, it was a memory of shame: Millie, on the bed, blindfolded, her full curves gently swaying, making unspeakable noises.
“Yaaaaaaah!—”
Millie crushed the crystal in her hand, furious.
“You wretched fiend, I absolutely won’t let you go!—”
After smashing the Transmission Stone, Millie still wasn’t satisfied. She stomped on it a few more times, then tore the villain’s mocking Letter to shreds.
“Ha…ha…I’m so angry I could explode!…”
How could anyone be so hateful?
Just you wait—when I catch you, I’ll tie you up and record your own steamy video! I’ll make you watch it ten times a day, let you see yourself suffer!—
Millie stamped her foot in rage and only calmed down after quite a while.
This wretch was even craftier and more despicable than she imagined. On her own, she couldn’t catch her sly tail—she’d have to rely on the information network of the Goddess Cult.
In the afternoon, Millie returned to the Goddess Cult.
Before she even reached the front gate of the sanctuary, she was surrounded by the crowd.
“Saintess, thank you for your hard work!”
“Thank you for subjugating the witch!”
“Saintess, could you accept this bouquet? I just picked it…”
Looking down, she saw a petite girl holding a bunch of wild lilies, looking up timidly. Millie patted her on the head and accepted the bouquet with a smile.
“Everyone, please go about your business. I need to go report back.”
After some persuasion, the crowd finally dispersed.
Still, many people watched her respectfully from a distance.
This feeling could become addictive—no wonder so many wanted to join the Goddess Cult. But Millie had no time for such idle thoughts.
If she didn’t keep what had happened to her a secret, by this time tomorrow she’d be tied up in the plaza, burned alive at the stake.
A short while later, Millie arrived at the Pope’s office.
She raised her hand to knock, but her hand hovered in midair.
All the way back, there had been nothing unusual at the Goddess Cult. It seemed Leona had no decisive evidence—she couldn’t dismiss the Saintess without reason.
In that case, it was time to perform well.
Millie tidied her collar, swept back her silver hair, held her head high, puffed out her chest, and adopted an imposing air before knocking again.
“Your Holiness, I’ve returned to report.”
“Finally, you’re back. Come in.”
Millie hesitated for half a second, then pushed the door open.
Leona, clad in a magnificent robe, sat upright behind the desk.
She looked no more than twenty-eight; even after all she’d been through, her skin was still fair and glowing, showing no trace of age.
Besides Leona, there was another Big Sister.
She was tall, voluptuous, with golden hair draped over her shoulders and eyes like emeralds, exuding a noble aura.
She was Filusa, also a Saintess.
“Good day, Sister Filusa.”
Millie picked up her skirt and curtsied to Filusa.
Filusa turned around, her gentle manner giving way to a crazed look in her eyes. She stared greedily at Millie’s chest, even licking her lips.
“Millie, how have you been?”
On her face lingered a smile full of lingering desire.