Ochester was perennially rainy and overcast, its dim, gloomy sky blurring the line between day and night. But the neighboring Pegeli Forest, separated only by a river, had a clear distinction between day and night, with a bright sun shining high above. It was as if they were two different continents.

Polly stood on the riverbank, looking at the river that was half shrouded in shadow and half bathed in golden sunlight. Slowly, she raised the staff in her hand and began to chant a spell in a low voice.

A biting chill condensed at the tip of her staff, and a white mist surged toward the river. The calm surface of the water began to freeze without a sound, and an ice bridge appeared in the center of the river.

Polly lowered her staff and stepped aside to clear the path. Dozens of white and gray wolves leaped nimbly onto the ice bridge, their figures quickly vanishing into the forest on the opposite bank.

The Vampires patrolling the forest keenly sensed the fluctuations of nature magic. A dangerous aura was approaching. They exchanged a look and decisively turned to report to Iman, but before they could leave, their path was blocked by white and gray wolves that had appeared from nowhere.

The white and gray wolves lowered their bodies, baring their sharp fangs at the Vampires before pouncing fiercely upon them.

Knights in golden armor escorted the God Race across the ice bridge. Olivia, who had already arrived in Pegeli Forest, stood atop a tree. Gazing into the distance, she saw that the God Race’s party had entered the forest, then took out her staff and began to chant a spell.

A faint green light swirled around her body as countless vines burst from the ground, growing wildly to enclose the entire forest like a cage.

Helen stood beside Olivia, sensing her nature power. The corners of her lips curled up slightly, her tone laced with relief. “Seeing you in such good condition puts my mind at ease.”

Nourishing the Tree of Life with one’s own life force caused irreversible damage, and Helen had always worried that Olivia would follow the same path as the previous Elf Queen.

But this was an internal matter for the Elf Race, so she could not dissuade her. Besides, the Elf Fruits also helped improve the Wolf Race’s reproduction to some extent, so she was in no position to object.

Still, in her heart, Helen did not want Olivia to come to any harm.

After sealing the forest, Olivia put away her staff. Hearing Helen’s words, she lowered her gaze slightly, her long eyelashes fluttering a few times before she said softly, “Cynthia has been helping me regulate my condition.”

“That one from another race is certainly thoughtful.” Helen said with a smile, shaking her head.

Olivia pressed her lips together and said nothing.

To deal with a third-generation Vampire, Cynthia could have certainly asked Olivia to take action. Olivia alone could have eliminated this troop of Vampires, but Cynthia didn’t. She only asked Olivia to seal off the forest.

The task of protecting their territory was something the God Race needed to do themselves.

They had cultivated a large number of knights and Light Believers. A mere increase in strength was not enough to solidify their “faith”; only by personally destroying the darkness could the light in their hearts grow truly brilliant.

A troop of third-generation Vampires—not too strong, but not too weak—was the perfect opponent for the first battle between light and darkness.

Since Olivia was willing to trust her, she, in turn, had to develop the God Race into a worthy ally.

Cynthia caressed the Light Crystal in her hand, her gaze sweeping over the knights and the God Race party ahead. Her golden eyes held a profound meaning.

After arranging the God Race party, Darcy walked to Cynthia’s side and said in a low voice, “The Wolf Race reports movement inside the castle.”

The sudden cage of vines had already alerted the Vampires inside.

Cynthia nodded and said with a smile, “Then let’s begin.”

It was time to prepare a grand feast of light for the Vampires.

The sky-blotting vines locked down the space. Inside the castle, the carousing Vampires dropped what they were doing and ran out to investigate. Iman walked onto a terrace, a cup of blood in hand. She looked up at the vines overhead, her expression turning grave.

She casually tossed the cup aside and raised a hand, attempting to tear open the space, but she failed.

This was a spell the Elf Race often used to prevent enemies from escaping. Judging by its intensity, the caster had to be Olivia.

How did they know she was hiding here?

Iman lowered her hand, her face dark as her mind raced. But before she could devise a means of escape, a dazzling golden light descended from the sky, and golden flames instantly engulfed her castle.

Iman raised her hand, creating a Blood Domain to resist the invasion of the Power of Light. She commanded the other fourth-generation lords to find and attack weak points in the vines, attempting to break through. But soon, white and gray wolves, along with knights in golden armor, emerged from all directions, forcing the Vampires to shift their attention from the vines to them.

The castle quickly became an ocean of gold. The dazzling light was almost more blinding than the sun itself. The Vampires within could not withstand the searing Power of Light; their paper-white skin turned to char, and they screamed as they were reduced to ash that scattered on the wind.

The God Race tirelessly chanted spells, casting them toward the castle. The sky turned from light to dark and back to light again, yet the golden ocean showed no sign of dissipating, and the Vampires remaining inside were few and far between.

Avira stood atop a tree, her crimson eyes gazing toward the golden ocean. Her expression was dark, the emotions hidden in their depths complex and unreadable.

On a tree not far from her, two figures suddenly appeared. They had white hair and sky-blue eyes. The elder werewolf looked gentle and reserved, while the younger one appeared somewhat naive and inexperienced.

Avira composed herself and turned to look. Her red lips curved into a slight smile as she shot a flirtatious wink at the younger werewolf.

Hanni hadn’t expected Avira to be here. Her eyes widened instinctively, and she felt as if her hair was about to stand on end. She bared her teeth at Avira with a fierce expression.

Joanna glanced in Avira’s direction. Avira had concealed her aura before Hanni and Joanna arrived and had even changed her crimson eyes to brown. She looked just like a human.

But it was impossible for a human to stand so calmly atop such a tall tree, observing the battle at the castle.

Joanna withdrew her gaze and glanced at Hanni, who was glaring warily at Avira. She frowned and asked, “Who is she?”

This person seems rather strange.

Questioned by Joanna, the anger on Hanni’s face froze for a moment. She raised a hand to scratch her hair and said guiltily, “A person… a human.”

Cynthia had instructed her not to reveal Avira’s identity for the time being. Though she didn’t know why, she intended to keep her promise.

Even if she currently loathed Avira so much it made her teeth ache.

“Hanni, are you lying to me?” Joanna narrowed her eyes, seeing right through Hanni’s guilty conscience.

Hanni avoided Joanna’s gaze and stammered, “I really don’t know who she is. Cynthia knows her. Go ask Cynthia.”

After she spoke, she lowered her head, anxiously awaiting Joanna’s reprimand.

The vice clan leader, who was gentle and friendly to outsiders, was extremely strict when it came to her own daughter. Hanni had grown up by Joanna’s side but had rarely felt her warmth.

Joanna had high hopes for her growth, so when Hanni lost to Hanna in the contest for the position of Young Master, Joanna had flown into a rage.

Otherwise, Hanni would never have secretly run away to train on her own.

Joanna stared at Hanni for a moment before shaking her head, her tone cold. “You… when will you ever show some improvement?”

“Your strength can’t compare to Hanna’s, you’re foolish and simple-minded, and you’ll trust anyone.” Joanna averted her gaze and sighed to herself.

How could she have given birth to such a daughter?

Hanni had been hearing such words her whole life. Though she still felt a pang of disappointment, it no longer hurt as much as it did when she was a child. She rubbed her eyes and retorted in a small voice, “I’m not foolish at all.”

After speaking, she turned her head away, only to meet the gaze of Avira, who was watching them with great interest. Hanni shot her a few fierce glares before turning and leaping down from the tree.

The cage of vines was similar in principle to the arrays the witches used to trap their enemies. Betty, Chelsea, and the other witches stood behind the God Race party, watching the castle being submerged by the Power of Light, their faces filled with a mixture of amazement and envy.

They were amazed by Olivia’s power and envious that the God Race could wield Light Magic, a natural counter to the Vampires.

As for the witches, while they also possessed arrays capable of trapping enemies, their power was far inferior to this cage of vines, and their Witchcraft was no match for Light Magic.

The God Race, once as weak as humans, had grown strong enough to take on a third-generation Vampire, while the witches had made no progress at all.

Not only that, but they had also lost the territory where they had always lived.

While Betty was happy for Cynthia, a wave of sorrow washed over her.

Eunice, whose attention was always fixed on Betty, quickly noticed the shift in her mood. She reached out, took Betty’s chin to turn her face toward her, and after a careful look, asked, “What’s wrong?”

Betty pulled Eunice’s hand away from her chin, holding it with both of her own. She shook her head slightly. “It’s nothing.” She paused, then added, “I just feel that we witches need to work harder.”

The God Race has been striving to drive out the Vampires; we can’t afford to slack off either.

“Witchcraft will never be as powerful as Light Magic,” Eunice said in a low voice, gazing at the chanting members of the God Race. “But Dark Magic can be.”

Chelsea turned to look at her, her expression icy.

Eunice ignored Chelsea, her attention focused solely on Betty.

Betty hesitated for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “I still don’t want to have anything to do with the Power of Darkness.”

After the Anderson Family grew powerful from practicing Dark Magic, some witches from the Garcia Family had been tempted to follow suit. They were only held back by the clan rules left behind by Elder Hettie, so they never acted on the impulse.

Eunice had always wanted to teach Betty Dark Magic, but Betty consistently refused.

She still wanted to become strong through the Witchcraft and arrays passed down by her people.

Perhaps it was because of the rule Elder Hettie had left behind, but the Power of Darkness always made Betty feel uneasy.

She trusted Eunice’s assurances that she wouldn’t be influenced by the Power of Darkness, but deep down, she was always worried about her.

Betty gripped Eunice’s hand tightly, about to ask for reassurance that she truly hadn’t been affected by the Power of Darkness, when Cynthia’s arrival cut off her unspoken question.

Continuously using Light Magic didn’t seem to have affected Cynthia much. She appeared as elegant and composed as ever, though a closer look would reveal a trace of fatigue hidden in her eyes.

Upon seeing Cynthia, Betty let go of Eunice’s hand. She walked forward a few steps to meet her and asked with concern, “Are you alright, Cynthia?”

Cynthia nodded at Betty and said with a smile, “I’m a little tired, but I can keep going.”

She turned to look toward the castle, her tone gentle. “It’s almost over.”

Only Iman remained in the castle, and after being seared by the Power of Light for so long, she was a spent force.

Turning her to ash was only a matter of time.

Iman was a problem as good as solved. Next, there was another, no less troublesome, that remained.

Cynthia turned, her gaze sweeping over the faces of Betty, Chelsea, Eunice, and the other witches. The smile on her lips faded slightly as she asked with a serious expression, “Do you know the method the Anderson witches use for their Dark Magic?”

Betty looked baffled. She turned to Eunice in confusion. “Isn’t it the same as how Eunice uses it?”

She had seen Eunice use Dark Magic, and it looked similar to Witchcraft.

The other witches thought the same. Some of them had also seen Anderson witches use Dark Magic, and aside from being more powerful offensively, it didn’t seem much different from Witchcraft.

Cynthia said nothing, her gaze shifting to Eunice. With her arms crossed, Eunice met Cynthia’s stare, her expression blank. It was obvious she knew what Cynthia was asking.

The method the Anderson witches used to summon that trash… of course, she knew it.