Ines's body shuddered violently, and a look of sheer terror suddenly appeared in her eyes.
What is this power?!
How—how can he possibly inflict harm upon my soul itself?!
"No, this can't be. You bastard, you can't… no—"
"I surrender! I'll tell you everything I know, please, just don't erase my soul—please!"
Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Enduring the searing agony on her soul, she sent a desperate message straight into Charles's mind—
Charles's expression didn't change; he maintained the purifying white light. Yet Ines's features suddenly relaxed, as if she'd been granted release.
Six seconds later, her body completely disintegrated, vanishing into dust with nothing left behind.
With that, all was finished. Ines's story reached its conclusive end, and there would never again be any hope of vindication.
Charles watched the scene with satisfaction. But just then, a shout rang out from the back: "The Archdruid is here!"
The crowd around the execution turned to look and saw Ilarode approaching—antlers rising from his head, clad in an ornate robe of colorful bird feathers, supporting himself on a staff as he slowly made his way toward them.
Nidalee caught sight of her father and instantly tensed. Old shadows from her childhood crashed over her, leaving her flustered and helpless. She hid behind Theresa, terrified like a child caught red-handed.
In that moment, only Theresa's formidable strength brought her any comfort at all.
She couldn't help a surge of resentment. She thought to herself, When passions were running wild and everyone needed your leadership the most, you stayed hidden—now that Master has pulled everyone through and it's over, you finally show up.
But as Ilarode approached, she noticed the abundance of new white hair on his head and the deep lines etched across his face. All her bitterness was replaced by a pang of sorrow.
After all, he was the father who raised her and taught her the ways of the druids.
She wasn't ready. Not after everything that had just happened.
On the other side, Ilarode also caught sight of Nidalee's silhouette as he drew near. A maelstrom of emotions flickered in his eyes—longing, relief, regret.
In the end, he just sighed deeply, and his solemn voice rolled through the entire camp: "It's late. Everyone disperse and go home, get some rest."
At his words, there came a wave of assent. The directors, the women and their families—all led their groups away and melted into the night.
Many of the minotaurs were still glaring at Charles with open hostility, but none dared openly protest the "righteous cause" of fighting against demons.
Dragged away by their own lords or wives—sometimes even scolded—they could only retreat unwillingly, letting go of any ideas of further retribution.
Soon, the bustling execution square was empty save for Ilarode, Willo and her daughter, and Charles's party.
Facing the strongest figure of the Mountain Purifiers, Charles felt perfectly calm—no guilt for what he'd done with his daughter, no nerves at all about meeting a so-called father-in-law.
To him, Ilarode was just another arrogant politician—one who'd danced at the edge, trying to reap benefits from both sides, only to lose everything when the demons turned the table. Charles had no respect and no sympathy for him.
Add in that Ilarode's strength was nowhere near Theresa's, and Charles felt even less pressure, simply waiting to hear what this Archdruid would say.
But when Ilarode reached the group, he didn't call to his daughter or start trouble. Instead, he walked directly to Anno and, in an earnest tone, offered his deep thanks: "Madam Paladin, you've done well. The blame is mine—for allowing a demon spy to infiltrate our alliance."
Anno had prepared herself for confrontation, but found herself caught off guard by his politeness. She'd expected the Archdruid who waged war to be a ruthless tyrant, not someone so courteous.
"Uh… When facing demons, everyone should stand together and fight," Anno finally replied, then quickly followed with, "I am Anno Amcastra, envoy of the Blackstaff Tower. We came not just for Ines the fiend, but also for the sake of this alliance."
"Archdruid, I hope we can leave the past behind and stand together as one against the demons."
Ilarode simply nodded, noncommittal. "It's late—please rest for now, all of you. In the morning, I'll gather the leaders of every tribe to discuss this further."
He gave Willo a look. She picked up the thread immediately, adding, "Everyone, get some rest. Tonight has been too much—everyone must be exhausted."
Anno grew anxious and was about to say more, but Charles drew her close, quietly agreeing and leading her back toward the satyr camp to rest.
In a blink, the once-crowded execution square was left with only Ilarode and Willo.
When everyone else had gone, Ilarode heaved a great sigh. "Willo, about the spy—you should have come to me first and discussed it."
Willo looked a bit embarrassed. "Actually, I only found out last night myself. You were out today, not here in the alliance, so I didn't get a chance to confer with you."
She sighed again. "I never thought Ines would strike so soon—or even try to silence me tonight. I never wished for things to get this out of hand…"
She explained the truth as best she could, but Ilarode didn't really believe her.
He saw it his own way: that his own actions had left Willo cold, that she no longer trusted him as a leader, even seeking help from the Liberl Port factions in the fight against demons.
That in mind, he heard Willo continue, "But what do you think of the alliance Madam Paladin proposed, Ilarode?"
"We started the war, destroyed Rockseeker's Outpost, yet they are willing to put the greater good first, bury the past and reach out to us… I really don't see any reason to refuse."
She spoke earnestly. Hearing this, a deep sigh welled up again in Ilarode's chest.
Willo… how much must they have given you to make you their mouthpiece?
Ah, the hearts of people drift so far apart…
Enough. Clearly, I'm not fit to remain as leader. If I keep clinging to power, it'll only bring more disaster upon myself…
Out loud he just brushed off Willo's questions, but inside, Ilarode made a decision he had never contemplated before.
Meanwhile, on their way back to rest, Anno was still a swirl of emotion. So much had happened in half an hour—one surprise after another, waves of excitement and tension that she couldn't settle.
She looked to her companions for similar reactions, but was surprised to see Adele looking rather downcast.
She quickly moved to stand beside her. "What's the matter, Miss Adele? You don't look well."
Adele shook her head, managing a forced smile. "It's nothing… just that so much happened tonight. I'm having trouble processing it all."
Anno was about to offer comfort when Charles suddenly cut in, "Honestly, no one expected it—Ines had seen through your disguise long ago, and tonight she even brought a drider to try killing you."
"Good thing Theresa and I were around, or else…"
He shook his head, and Anno shot him an immediate glare. "Charles!"
She meant: That's enough, don't rub salt in the wound.
Charles shrugged, saying nothing more, but the implication couldn't have been clearer. Adele pouted, feeling wronged—she really had no idea how she'd been exposed. Everything had seemed normal, Ines had shown no signs, but tonight…
Besides that sense of wrong, irritation bubbled inside her. She couldn't find a comeback, so in her mind she just slapped Charles with the label of "insensitive jerk."
She quickly slipped her arm into Anno's, seeking comfort in the paladin's warmth, if only for a little peace of mind.
With Anno distracted by Adele's mood, Charles turned to Nidalee and gently asked, "Feeling a bit down?"
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