The dark shadows blocking the path ahead lunged forward almost simultaneously, wrapping around the spear layer upon layer in an attempt to drag it down into the darkness.
But the silver threads were inherently inanimate objects meant for binding souls. After reverse-absorbing the power of the dark shadows, their momentum as they tore through the air surged violently instead, dragging a silver-white trail behind as they violently pierced through the sky like a shooting star.
With a crisp crack, glass shattered, looking like a broken galaxy cascading from the heavens.
The unicorn let out a long neigh, its four hooves trampling fiercely. Enveloped in a flurry of flying light fragments, it carried Isolde straight out of the collapsing gap.
The violent, chaotic currents of the void whistled past her ears, slicing through the final layer of viscous darkness.
As the flying debris around them gradually dimmed, the suffocating pressure suddenly vanished.
The unicorn's speed slowed. Isolde narrowed her eyes, brushing away the mist blocking her vision. Looking out from the beast's back, the world before her was reduced to nothing but an endless, desolate wasteland.
And at the end of that cracked expanse, a massive pile of bones stood suspended over the desolate clearing.
Hovering above the bone pile was a glowing horn.
The horn was pure silver-white, with a clear blue light slowly flowing down its length, casting a cold, faint shimmer over the entire pile of bones.
It seemed this was the anchor she was looking for.
The unicorn carried Isolde slowly toward it. Dismounting, she stared at the colossal pile of bones and stepped firmly onto the steps forged from white bone.
She heard the bones weeping. Suppressed rage, enveloped in a bloody mist, rushed toward her. With every step forward, the soul inside her body shuddered in resonance.
By all accounts, Isolde was a darling of the darkness and shouldn't have cared about this negligible malice.
Yet, the remaining empathetic capacity belonging to “Yu Lingye” allowed her to perceive these pains with absolute clarity.
Step by step, she climbed the bones.
The two emotions intertwined in her chest, leaving even her unable to distinguish whose personality was driving this physical body forward at this moment.
However, she was certain of one thing.
She did not need to make an either-or choice between “Yu Lingye” and “Isolde.”
She was whoever she wanted to be.
The current version of herself was the optimal answer.
The battered unicorn stopped at the bottom of the bone pile, raising its head to watch her quietly.
In this world, too many people had witnessed the holiness and perfection of unicorns.
But no one had ever asked them if they actually wanted that perfection.
If holiness brought only skinning, broken horns, melted bones, and sacrifice, then those who crowned them with the name of sanctity and bowed before their statues were all detestable accomplices.
The believers sang praises, and the executioners offered prayers.
Only the unicorn's mournful wails became the tragic elegy atop that supreme glory.
Isolde finally reached the top of the bone pile.
She raised her hand and gripped the horn.
In an instant, all surrounding sounds vanished. Even the distracting self-examinations in her mind fell silent at this moment.
【You have obtained: Sacred Royal Horn (Legendary)】
[A supreme power of purity, often used to suppress all absolute darkness in the world.]
Isolde looked down at the short horn shimmering with cold light in her hand, the corners of her lips curling into a sarcastic arc.
She understood now.
So the so-called Mooncrown Lock was never actually suppressing some filthy darkness.
It was suppressing the unquenchable hatred of the unicorn race, which refused to fade even in death.
Fearing the backlash of this immense resentment, the Holy Court had cruelly crafted holy artifacts from the unicorns' own bones to, in turn, suppress their posthumous curses.
Flaying the victims' bones to lock away the victims' hate.
“Heh... how truly ironic.”
Before she could study the specific usage of this holy artifact, a sharp shattering sound suddenly echoed from not far away.
Deep within the darkness, another spatial barrier violently shattered.
Isolde looked up toward the sound. Amidst the drifting ash and burning ruins, a black-clothed figure was slowly standing up.
In his hand, he clutched a gem-like lock core.
It seemed the other party had also obtained the other sealing anchor.
With a flick of her wrist, Isolde's cold and elegant features faded, returning to Yu Lingye's seemingly delicate and harmless face.
The black-clothed figure in the ruins seemed to sense something amiss, abruptly raising his head to look toward the high platform.
Their gazes collided in the air, separated by the drifting fragments of flowing light.
Isolde felt a sudden burning sensation in her palm.
The newly acquired 【Sacred Royal Horn】 slipped from her grasp and flew into the air.
At the same time, the lock core in the black-clothed figure's hand also transformed into a streak of light and shot into the sky.
The two anchors collided in midair. As their lights fused, a Mooncrown Lock woven from the beast horn and the gemstone fully materialized in the air.
It hovered quietly in midair, radiating an irresistible holy pressure.
At that exact moment, a new voice rang in Isolde's ears.
【Sacrifice one soul】
【You will obtain the recognition of the Mooncrown Lock】
On the other side, the black-clothed figure had clearly heard a similar prompt.
He did not hesitate. The shadow behind him rapidly elongated, stretching across the ground toward Isolde like a silent venomous snake.
Isolde's eyes grew cold.
She knew it. Those hypocrites of the Holy Court would never peacefully send just two people to release the sealing anchors.
Those people loved nothing more than backing others into a corner, watching them tear each other apart, and then saying from their high horse:
“See? Human nature is inherently evil. Only the Holy Court represents the sole truth, goodness, and beauty in this world.”
Isolde had toyed with human hearts herself, but her sole difference from the Holy Court was that she never denied her own malice, nor would she despicably seal off all escape routes, let alone use some righteous excuse to beautify her judgment of human nature.
The Holy Court loved to reverse cause and effect; she, however, insisted on putting cause and effect back where they belonged.
The black-clothed figure's voice came from across the way, testing the waters:
“Did you hear something?”
“Of course I did.” Isolde stared at the Mooncrown Lock hovering in midair. “It wants us to betray each other.”
The black-clothed figure was silent for a moment. “How can you be sure?”
Isolde cast a sideways glance at him, her tone mocking. “Because I used to be the one setting the questions.”
She walked down the high white bone platform, and the battered unicorn at the bottom dissolved into a wisp of blue light, merging back into her palm.
“One life can serve as an anchor, but one betrayal allows the Mooncrown Lock to continue proving the purpose of its existence.”
She looked up at the black-clothed figure and continued to explain:
“It doesn't actually want any souls. It only wants us to push each other into the abyss with our own hands, establishing the crime of 'betrayal.' Then, under the guise of purifying evil, it can naturally seal both of us away again.”
The shadow beneath the black-clothed figure's feet stopped, as if he were contemplating.
The other party was someone with an intelligence stat over 100, so her words carried a certain level of credibility.
But precisely because she was a smart person, he felt even more uncertain.
What if she was lying to him?
Of course, Isolde was not without her own guard.
Neither of them had any intention of exposing their backs to the other.
The Mooncrown Lock seemed to exploit this very fact, amplifying this trace of distrust to turn it into the true killing move within the illusion.
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