Free Web NovelLiselotte hadn't been in such a wretched state for a very long time.
The last time?
Probably twenty-seven years ago.
Back then, she was still young, still naive, and still thought Sequence III was already touching the ceiling.
Then she met her mentor, a crazy old woman.
She ground her into the dirt for three whole days.
After that time, she learned a truth.
Power is something that has no end.
But that was twenty-seven years ago.
For twenty-seven years, she climbed up step by step.
From Sequence III to Sequence IV, it took eight years.
From Sequence IV to Sequence V, it took fifteen years.
Countless times hovering on the edge of life and death, countless times undergoing rituals that would shorten one's life, and countless times crazily testing the boundaries of erosion.
Then, she succeeded.
She became a Wayfarer of the Path of the Empress, Sequence V.
In the entire Empire, the number of people who could reach this height could be counted on two hands.
She had the right to be proud.
She had the right to look down upon all living beings.
She had the right to—
“Bam!”
A heavy punch smashed into her abdomen.
Her body flew out like a kite with a broken string.
She tumbled three and a half times in the air.
Finally, she crashed into a stone pillar.
The pillar cracked, and she felt her ribs crack too—at least three of them.
“Cough—!”
A mouthful of blood sprayed from her mouth.
It exploded into a mist of blood in the air.
But that wasn't real blood.
It was just the soul's simulation of the concept of being 'injured'.
A habitual reaction.
Right, she was already in a soul state.
It was all the fault of that damned mission, or perhaps, her bad luck.
“Go to Rosenthal Manor. The target is the daughter of the von Hohenheim family. Ensure she does not leave alive.”
It was that simple.
The Orders from the Secret Party were always like this.
Concise, clear, and beyond question.
Killing a sixteen or seventeen-year-old, powerless noble miss. freewebnøvel.coɱ
For her, such a mission wasn't even worth changing her clothes for.
Initially, the mission execution went very smoothly.
Until those two young girls started running away—well, that was expected.
Until that red-haired boy rushed out to block the target—that was also actually expected.
Until a white mecha, which seemed like it shouldn't exist in this era, emerged from a flock of pigeons.
That was not expected.
Then, a seven-meter-long crimson light spear pierced through her chest.
Then, she died.
But death was not the end.
At least not for a Wayfarer of her level.
Her consciousness was still there, her soul was still intact, and her connection to the return had not broken.
As long as she found a suitable vessel, she could come back to life.
This was a backup plan she had prepared long ago.
Every high-sequence Wayfarer had similar insurance.
The only difference was the success rate.
And her success rate should have been very high.
“Damn it...”
She climbed up from the ruins of the stone pillar.
Her deep green gown was already tattered.
Her once gentle and elegant face was now distorted.
Traces of blood hung from the corners of her mouth.
Her eyes were full of anger and resentment.
She hadn't expected this situation.
When she was killed, she knew her soul would be captured by that mecha.
That mecha had some kind of device capable of absorbing souls.
She had felt it at the last moment.
That suction.
That irresistible force that dragged her soul out of her broken flesh.
Then came the sensation of the soul detaching from the body.
It felt like a piece of gauze stuck to a wound being suddenly ripped off.
Skin and flesh included.
The entire world exploded before her eyes, then collapsed into a pinhead-sized point of light in the same instant.
Then, the point of light also went out.
And then—
She was here.
She thought she would be imprisoned in some soul container.
Soul-Eater Stones, Spirit-Binding Jars, Soul-Sealing Caskets—the Secret Party's basements were filled with such things, and she had even personally stuffed many souls into them.
So she was no stranger to such things.
These soul containers usually had seals.
But seals could be broken.
As long as one had enough time and patience.
And she, as it happened, was very patient.
In fact, the first step went very smoothly.
The seals here were outrageously weak.
She broke free from the restraints with almost no effort, which even made her suspect it might be a trap.
Then, she ran into trouble.
“Oh~ You can still stand up?”
A low female voice came from ahead.
Carrying a sort of nonchalant mockery.
“You're quite resilient.”
Liselotte raised her head.
Looking toward the source of the voice.
It was a woman.
A... very tall woman.
At least one hundred and ninety centimeters.
Maybe taller.
Broad shoulders, thick arms, sturdy thighs.
Every muscle looked as if it were cast from steel.
Distinct lines, clear contours.
Before this physique, most men would appear frail.
She was wearing...
Saying 'wearing' wasn't quite accurate.
She only wore a black iron helmet, her face obscured.
Below the helmet, there were only two things on her body.
A bandage wrapped around her chest.
Barely covering what should be covered.
A piece of cloth tied around her waist.
The same style as the loincloths of those male knights.
Other than that, everything was exposed.
All her muscles were bared to the air.
Scars crisscrossed her body.
Some were blade wounds, some were burns, and some looked like they had been bitten by something.
Every scar told a story of past battles.
Liselotte had been fighting her for...
She didn't know how long.
In this damned space, time perception was chaotic.
Maybe a few minutes.
Maybe a few hours.
Maybe a few days.
She only knew she had been sent flying at least twenty times.
“What kind of monster are you exactly...”
Liselotte cursed under her breath, her voice hoarse.
The female knight tilted her head.
A hint of amusement flashed in the eyes beneath the iron helmet.
“Monster?”
She cracked her neck.
The joints made a clicking sound.
“I am # Nоvеlight # just a knight. A knight of the Paranov Guard Knights.”
“A knight loyal to the Novitz Royal Family.”
“A knight loyal to Her Imperial Highness the Princess.”
Paranov Guard Knights.
Novitz Royal Family.
Her Imperial Highness the Princess.
These three terms made Liselotte's brow furrow even tighter.
She certainly knew of the Paranov Guard Knights.
Everyone on the continent who studied the history of the return knew of this Order.
They were once the largest association of the Path of the Tower.
They were also the only organization that used the power of the Path of the Tower for 'protection' rather than 'destruction'.
Their philosophy was very unique.
Ordinary Wayfarers of the Path of the Tower pursued destruction.
They pursued rebirth after destruction.
In their words—
“Only through experiencing destruction can one usher in new life; only by protecting until the final moment can one witness the dawn.”
Very idealistic.
And very foolish.
The 'Red Dawn' of decades ago had also proven this.
The flames of revolution swallowed the Novitz Royal Family.
The Paranov Guard Knights were wiped out while covering the imperial family's retreat.
They protected until the final moment.
But they failed to witness the dawn.
They only witnessed their own deaths.
...
Then, they vanished from history.
Not even their corpses were left behind.
Some said their souls were swept into the torrent of dead spirits on the battlefield.
Some said they were collected by some high-sequence Wayfarer.
Others said they didn't die at all, but were just hiding.
Now Liselotte knew the answer.
Their souls had indeed been collected.
Collected into this damned place.
And then used as jailers.
Dammit, which immortal could possibly achieve such a thing?
