During their time in the Slade Sea Region, the Witches, who had been severely weakened, had mostly recovered. While their decision to leave was partly due to the conflict between the Anderson Family and the God Race, it was ultimately a well-considered one.

They couldn’t only consider their own safety and abandon their kin who were still suffering.

The God Race’s power had grown seemingly quickly, but it was not yet stable.

The witches were already deeply moved that the God Race had taken them in during their most difficult time. They had no intention of seeking the God Race’s help to rescue their kin.

Allies were meant to be equals who helped one another; the Witches couldn’t hide under the God Race’s protection forever.

Even humans were taking up arms to protect themselves and their people; the Witches would not become timid and withdrawn over a few setbacks.

However, strength, more than determination, provided a sense of security.

And strength was a shield that no one could take away.

Witchcraft and formations required immense patience and time to master, whereas Dark Magic was easy to begin learning. It was also far more offensive in nature.

Their inability to defend the territory the Witches had inhabited for millennia, to protect the kin they lived with day in and day out, to escape the blade constantly hanging over their heads—this constant fear of losing their lives at any moment diminished Elder Hettie’s prestige in their hearts.

To continue studying their less-than-powerful Witchcraft or to turn to Dark Magic, which could grant immense strength in a short time—for the first time, the scales in the witches’ hearts began to tip toward the latter.

After all, only by killing their enemies could they truly be free from danger.

However, while the Morgan and Garcia families had grown interested in the power of darkness, they still had their principles and disapproved of the Anderson Family’s methods.

Practicing Dark Magic didn’t necessarily mean one had to follow the Anderson path.

In a remote and hidden valley, witches gathered in small groups, whispering amongst themselves. Occasionally, a few words about the power of darkness drifted to Chelsea’s ears. She leaned against the cliff wall, arms crossed, her calm gaze fixed on the witches in the distance, lost in thought.

Betty approached Chelsea with Eunice, holding a piece of parchment covered in incantations. Her once-clear eyes were now clouded with hesitation and sorrow. Stopping a few steps away, she considered her words for a moment before asking, “Do you need this?”

She gestured with the parchment. “These are the Dark Magic incantations Eunice wrote down,” she said, her lips pressed together.

The power of darkness was no longer seen as a terrifying beast among the witches. As Betty watched her kin begin to study Dark Magic, her own resolve wavered. Seizing the opportunity, Eunice, who had always wanted Betty to learn Dark Magic, wrote out a copy of the incantations she had developed. But Betty, though shaken, had not yet made up her mind. She wanted to hear Chelsea’s thoughts first.

Pulled from her thoughts, Chelsea looked up and stared at Betty for a long moment before silently extending her hand.

Betty was surprised but handed the parchment to her nonetheless.

Betty knew how much Chelsea loathed Dark Magic and had worried she would be angry. She never expected her to accept it so calmly.

Chelsea glanced at the incantations on the parchment. As if reading Betty’s mind, she said coolly, “Practicing the power of darkness doesn’t mean your mind will be corrupted.”

She paused, then glanced at the other witches in the valley and murmured, “But this isn’t our only path.”

Those were words exchanged between Cynthia and the Elf Queen, and Chelsea had remembered them ever since.

And yet… the Witches had still chosen this path in the end.

Betty turned to look at Elder Kana discussing Dark Magic with the others. “Are we really going to practice Dark Magic?” she sighed.

Chelsea folded the parchment and placed it in her Space Gem. Her downcast eyes hid her uncertainty. Instead of answering directly, she said, “…I will not give up on Witchcraft.”

Call it obsession, call it foolishness, but she wanted to prove to the other witches that Witchcraft was not weak—that it was no worse than Dark Magic.

Although the Morgan and Garcia families had begun to explore the power of darkness, they refused to accept any guidance from the Anderson Family, preferring to learn on their own.

The shunned Anderson witches, however, weren’t angry. Perhaps it was because they had been harshly reprimanded by the Garcia and Morgan families for using humans to summon demonic beasts, but they were now uncharacteristically subdued.

While the other two families studied the power of darkness, the Anderson witches took on patrol and guard duties.

Betty had been ignoring Camille ever since she learned the Anderson witches were indiscriminately killing humans. Camille was heartbroken, but the thought that Betty was no longer fawning over the God Race replaced her sorrow with joy. She even skipped about cheerfully while performing the tedious task of patrolling.

The only downside was that they were now under the strict supervision of the Garcia and Morgan families and could no longer kill people at will.

Unable to kill humans, they had to settle for the next best thing—capturing animals to practice their Dark Magic.

Camille knelt by a small stream, humming a tune as she expertly butchered an antelope carcass. Her hands were covered in blood, yet she found the sticky sensation rather pleasant.

She picked up a stone and casually etched a small array into the dirt. Then, she carved out the antelope’s heart, placed it at the array’s center, and carefully smeared blood over the markings before beginning to chant in a low voice.

A dark aura began to coalesce above the array. Camille touched her chin, her blood-smeared face filled with dissatisfaction.

The amount of dark power she had gathered was too small; animal blood and organs were no substitute for human ones. Camille began yanking at the weeds in frustration when a squeaking sound suddenly reached her ears.

Camille froze. She glanced down at the skeletal rat by her feet, her expression peculiar. Lifting her head, she scanned the area, her gaze finally locking onto a specific spot. A deceptively innocent smile spread across her face. “Who’s there? Playing hide-and-seek with me?”

The wind fell silent for a second, then the sound returned, accompanied by shuffling footsteps.

Several figures in black robes appeared before her. Camille watched them with curiosity, reaching down to scoop up the skeletal rat.

The leader of the group pulled back her hood, revealing long, grayish-white hair that tumbled over her chest. Her eyes, the same pale shade, gave her an uncanny appearance. She looked down at Camille and spoke slowly, “An Anderson witch?”

Camille looked up at Maia and blinked. A look of realization crossed her face. “I know who you are! You’re the Sethite clan the God Race has been hunting, aren’t you?”

“How pitiful, having to flee all the way out here.”

The face of the wizard behind Maia darkened. He stepped forward and said menacingly, “You’re courting death.”

Camille grinned at him, baring her teeth. “Picking on a little kid. How pathetic.”

“You…”

Maia raised a hand, stopping the wizard from acting. She scanned the area. “Where are your kin?”

Camille looked down and stroked the skeletal rat. “Why should I tell you?”

Maia frowned, but remembering her purpose, she spoke again. “I heard you witches have developed a Teleportation Array?”

“Help us leave this place.” Maia glanced at the dark array in front of Camille. “I can give you some Dark Magic incantations in return.”

A delay had prevented them from meeting up with Iman, which had saved Maia and her group’s lives. But the God Race, with the help of the Wolf Race, had never stopped hunting them. They had been hiding all over and were at their breaking point.

Maia produced a piece of parchment and handed it to Camille. “If you can’t make the decision, you can fetch your elder.”

“Are you looking down on me?” Camille said, displeased.

Maia paused. “No,” she denied. She studied Camille for a moment. “What’s your name?”

Camille, who was examining the parchment, thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled slyly. “My name is Eunice.”

She touched her own face and repeated with a giggle, “Eunice.”

Maia didn’t know why Camille repeated the name, but she nodded casually. “Can you use the Teleportation Array?”

“Of course,” Camille said, getting to her feet. A smirk touched her lips. “But these few incantations won’t be enough.”

Maia exchanged a glance with the wizard beside her, then produced several more pieces of parchment and handed them over.

Sneaking into Pegel to map the Giant God Temple was no difficult task for Avira. By the next morning, a flawless, detailed map showing the temple’s location, internal layout, and the distribution of Vampires was in Cynthia’s hands.

Olivia unfolded the map and scanned it. “Have Polly go with you,” she said coolly.

The Vampires had been in Pegel for an unknown length of time, and the dark array within the Giant God Temple was likely near completion. Cynthia knew her current Power of Light posed little threat to a Second Generation Vampire, so she decided to target the temple instead.

After all, the temple was her objective.

Knowing Olivia was worried, Cynthia didn’t refuse. She just nodded with a smile. “Alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll join you after I destroy the dark array inside the temple.”

Olivia glanced at Cynthia, then quickly looked away when their eyes met. She handed the map back. “Helen and I will break through the Blood Domain first. You can use that opportunity to slip into Pegel. The Vampires shouldn’t notice you.”

With some time still before they left, Olivia couldn’t help but add, “Edeli will certainly have Vampires guarding the temple. If you run into trouble, let Polly handle it. And as for that vampire, Avira… you must remain vigilant around her at all times.”

It was rare for Olivia to say so much, and Cynthia listened intently without interrupting, her smiling gaze lingering on Olivia’s face.

But a cold, domineering dark aura suddenly shattered the warm atmosphere between them. A blood-red fog appeared from nowhere, shrouding the clear sky. A powerful pressure rolled in, and time itself seemed to freeze.

Olivia’s expression turned grave. She looked up at the bloody mist, her brow furrowed. “This is the Blood Domain of a Second Generation Vampire.”

Had they been discovered?

But they had deliberately concealed their auras. To avoid detection, they had even kept a safe distance, never getting too close to Pegel.

It was impossible for Edeli to have sensed their arrival.

Cynthia’s brow furrowed as well. Edeli had found them first, completely disrupting their plan.

“It’s the Second Generation Vampire from Pegel.” Helen and Joanna appeared at Olivia’s and Cynthia’s sides. Joanna stared toward the densest part of the bloody mist, her tone grave. “He has sealed the space around us.”

Breaking a Blood Domain from the outside and breaking out from within were two entirely different matters.

Within the Blood Domain, their strength would be diminished.

Olivia raised her hand slightly, and a pale green longbow materialized. She stroked the silver bowstring, her voice icy. “He cannot keep us sealed.”

Joanna glanced at her. “True,” she said gently. “Not even the Blood Domain of a Second Generation Vampire can withstand the arrows of Her Majesty the Queen.”

Olivia watched the figures that had appeared in the distance, offering no response to Joanna’s compliment.

Avira, the most sensitive to Edeli’s aura, had sensed him even before the Blood Domain closed in. She sat perched in a tree, surprised that Edeli had somehow discovered the presence of the Wolf Race and the Elves.

Edeli was hardly the cleverest of Vampires.

She licked her lips, her gaze sweeping nonchalantly over the group below, her expression intriguing.