Although the witches’ overall strength had increased significantly with the Blood Demon’s help, the time they had spent with the spells was ultimately too short. Their use was neither fluid nor skillful. Coupled with the fact that they were facing the Power of Light, their natural counter, the witches’ side eventually fell into a disadvantage after a period of confrontation.

During the era of the gods, Light had suppressed Darkness at every turn. Now, seeing the witches in such a sorry state before these flawed copies infuriated the Blood Demon. She let out a cold snort, raised her right hand, and a red long spear materialized in it. She teleported behind Kana, who was concentrating on chanting a spell, and the long spear in her hand transformed into a red whirlwind, rushing toward the golden light shield above with immense power.

The golden light shield shattered instantly, and specks of golden light quietly dissipated. The God Race’s magical assault was broken. The Power of Light, which had been confronting the Power of Darkness, stagnated for a moment before being torn apart by the impact of the red whirlwind.

After scattering the Power of Light, the red whirlwind’s momentum did not diminish in the slightest as it charged straight for the God Race. Darcy’s expression changed slightly. She gestured for her kin to retreat, then quickened the speed of her chanting.

Layer after layer of barriers descended, but the red whirlwind was already upon them. Darcy looked at the overwhelming red, feeling the pressure emanating from it. She already knew that the spells they had hastily prepared could not withstand the whirlwind’s power. She gripped her staff, hesitating whether to resist it head-on, when a golden long arrow shot past their heads and collided with the red whirlwind.

Time suddenly stood still. A terrifying pressure spread out from the point of impact between the golden arrow and the red whirlwind. The spells being chanted by both the witches and the God Race were interrupted, and both sides retreated several dozen meters before stopping.

The smug smile on the Blood Demon’s face, who had been preparing to watch the show, froze. She stared intently at the golden arrow and cried out in a shocked tone, “Divine Power of Light? That’s impossible!”

The Goddess of Light was long gone from this continent. Who else could command the Divine Power of Light?

Wolf Fang, who had no interest in the conflict between the God Race and the witches, also showed a slight change in her indifferent expression the moment the golden arrow appeared. She moved beside the Blood Demon, her gaze fixed on the direction the golden arrow had come from. Her superior eyesight quickly spotted Cynthia and the others walking toward them.

Silver hair cascaded down to her knees, swaying in a slight arc as she walked. The leading member of the God Race looked no different from the others fighting the witches, except that her moon-white robes were more exquisite and ornate. Wolf Fang gave her a cursory glance before her eyes settled on the dark green longbow in the silver-haired God Race’s hands. She quickly recognized it as the weapon of the Goddess of the Forest.

It seemed the golden arrow had been condensed using this divine weapon. Wolf Fang crossed her arms, tapping her fingers on her arm twice. Then, she thoughtfully raised her eyes and began to study Cynthia carefully. Her gaze lingered on her face for a moment. The more she looked, the more familiar she seemed. After a moment of serious recollection, a figure appeared in her mind, leaving her completely stunned.

From a distance, the Morgan Witches, clad in long robes with their heads bowed in silence, appeared as a dark, oppressive mass. But standing behind Cynthia, the gloom that surrounded them seemed to be dispelled. This member of the God Race was like light itself, and everything around her was merely a backdrop.

“…God’s Descendant.” Wolf Fang’s figure blurred from shock, taking a moment to stabilize. Her deep voice was laced with unconcealable astonishment. “How has the God’s Descendant awakened?”

“God’s Descendant?” The Blood Demon floated a little higher, peering curiously into the distance. “Are you talking about that member of the God Race?” she asked doubtfully.

She observed Cynthia intently for a while and soon noticed something amiss. The disdain in her words turned to shock and suspicion. “This… isn’t this the one the Goddess of Light created…” She turned to look at Wolf Fang. Wolf Fang said nothing, instead flashing closer to Cynthia’s position.

Wolf Fang had already recovered from her initial shock. She floated in the air, staring at Cynthia with a scrutinizing gaze. This face… this body… it was indeed the God’s Descendant created by the Goddess of Light before she left the Sitatul Continent. But the Goddess of Light had never bestowed a soul upon the God’s Descendant, and this body had been sealed in an Ice Coffin and sunk to the depths of the sea ever since its creation.

So, her earlier word, “awakened,” wasn’t accurate. The question should be, how did this body become “alive”?

Cynthia was unaware of the scrutiny from Wolf Fang and the Blood Demon. She walked to the front through the path cleared by the God Race, glanced up at the red whirlwind still clashing with the golden arrow, raised her dark green longbow, and fired two more arrows.

The Blood Demon, who had not taken her eyes off Cynthia, saw her move. She flashed behind Kana and, with a slight raise of her hand, summoned her long spear back. Outsiders couldn’t see her figure; they only saw the red whirlwind dodge the siege of golden arrows and return to Kana’s side, mistakenly believing it to be a dark magic spell she had cast.

“It’s been a while, Elder Kana. Your dark magic has truly grown more powerful,” Cynthia said, raising a hand to lower Darcy’s staff. She smiled faintly at Kana and said in a soft voice, “It seems this Temple of Darkness is indeed different from the other temples.”

“Cynthia, what is the meaning of this?” Kana gripped the bone staff in her hand and questioned coldly, “Does your God Race wish to declare war on us witches?”

“Declare war,” Cynthia repeated the words, her golden eyes sweeping over the Anderson Witches standing beside Kana, as if considering it.

Her reaction made Kana’s expression change slightly. Her grip on the bone staff tightened until her knuckles turned white. The moment she decided to protect the Anderson Family, she knew they would eventually face the God Race. But deep down, she did not want to be their enemy.

Setting aside their former alliance, as the natural counter to the Power of Darkness, a fight against the God Race would be a vicious battle with little chance of victory.

The devastation would only be worse than what they faced against the Sethite wizards.

Perhaps sensing Kana’s nervousness, Cynthia, who had just been wearing a serious expression, suddenly reverted to her usual gentle demeanor. A faint smile played on her lips, as if the witches before her were still allies of the God Race. She spoke in a natural tone, “Elder Kana, you’ve misunderstood me.”

She turned slightly to the side, and Doris emerged from behind her with a group of witches. These witches looked haggard and thin, but their spirits were decent.

“We rescued some witches while guarding the temple in the Tallas Mountains.” Cynthia gestured for Doris to send the people over. Seeing the complicated expression on Kana’s face, she smiled. “The witches of the Morgan Family have already returned to Chelsea and the others. These should all be your Garcia kin.”

Having imagined countless motives for the God Race’s arrival, she never expected them to be returning her people. Kana’s grip on the bone staff loosened, and she subconsciously avoided Cynthia’s gaze, her heart a mix of complex emotions.

“Garcia and Morgan,” Camille’s eyes darted around. “Why aren’t there any of our Anderson kin?” she asked, puzzled.

“Of course there are Anderson kin,” Darcy, who had been silent beside Cynthia, suddenly spoke up. “Do you want to see them?”

Camille looked at Darcy’s hostile gaze and understood. She said with a grin, “Better not. It wouldn’t be good if I got scared by their gruesome deaths.”

Darcy snorted coldly.

“This is the last time the God Race will rescue Garcia witches.” Noticing Kana avoiding her gaze, Cynthia shook her head and chuckled softly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The next time we meet, we will properly settle the score for the Anderson Family assisting the Sethite wizards in their attack on the God Race.”

She didn’t seem to care about Kana’s response. After speaking, she shifted her gaze and searched among the witches, finding Betty’s figure in a corner. The coldness on her face melted slightly. Cynthia beckoned to her and called out gently, “Betty.”

Suddenly meeting Cynthia’s gaze made Betty’s heart tremble. Hearing her call her name so gently, her eyes reddened against her will. “Cynthia…”

Her right hand subconsciously rose to the Space Gem, wanting to touch the ruby Cynthia had given her, but she suddenly remembered that Eunice had taken it, and now it was missing along with Eunice. Her eyes dimmed again.

She lowered her hand and walked toward Cynthia through the crowd of witches, her head bowed.

Seeing her go to Cynthia, Camille narrowed her eyes and started to follow, but a golden flame blocked her path.

“Damn it!” Camille stomped her foot in anger, but she couldn’t extinguish the flame. She could only glare at its master, but the flame’s master didn’t even glance at her, simply taking Betty to an empty space nearby. Their figures were soon obscured by the other members of the God Race.

“Are you all very afraid of her?” The Blood Demon, who had been observing everything, floated to Kana’s side, her eyes fixed on Cynthia’s back as she probed for information. “Who is this member of the God Race?”

Hearing the Blood Demon’s voice, Kana turned and searched but couldn’t find her. She could only reply to the empty air, “Her name is Cynthia. She’s very powerful. The God Race’s Light Magic was developed by her.”

“Oh?” The Blood Demon’s tone was peculiar. “So she was the one who taught Light Magic to those flawed copies.”

It seemed the Goddess of Light had truly spared no effort when creating this God’s Descendant, even passing down Light Magic to her.

“Come, tell me more about this member of the God Race.” The Blood Demon floated in the air, her gaze never leaving Cynthia. She let out a few ambiguous chuckles and said coldly, “I’m very curious about her.”

While Cynthia and Kana were talking, Chelsea led her kin back to the witches’ side. Unlike the Garcia Family, they had not chosen to stand with the Anderson Family against the God Race. But the bond between the three witch families, forged over thousands of years, could not be broken so easily.

Chelsea didn’t want to see the Garcia Family fall into an abyss because of the Anderson Family. She brought a few Morgan Family elders to find Kana, but as she drew near, she noticed the witches were behaving strangely, constantly looking around with dazed expressions. Kana was the same, even muttering something to the empty air.

Chelsea paused and exchanged a look with the elders, seeing the confusion in each other’s eyes.

“Elder Kana, who are you talking to?” Chelsea walked up behind Kana, looked around, and asked with a frown.

Chelsea’s voice brought Kana back to her senses. She turned around, tidied her hair to cover her unease, and shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She stiffly changed the subject. “Welcome back, Chelsea.”

“Welcome?” Chelsea’s expression was cold. “Weren’t you the ones hiding your tracks?”

Kana lowered her head, her heart bitter. “We had no choice.”

In that situation, between Morgan and Anderson, she could only choose the latter.