The gushing black sludge poured down as if a violent storm had descended upon this small region.
In no time, the entire ruins of Snowveil City were filled with the thick, writhing mud.
But after all, the ruins were nothing more than a massive crater blasted into the earth — not a lake — and thus it had its limits.
Soon, the black sludge began to overflow, spreading rapidly outward. Wherever it passed, no grass could survive; any living being touched by the sludge would twist grotesquely before transforming into all manner of infernal creatures.
Meanwhile, in the sky above, the wound in that massive hand's palm slowly widened. Yet, no more blood flowed out. If anyone were to look closely, they would see only lifeless darkness within the gash.
Suddenly, within that darkness, a faint light flickered — followed by the slow emergence of a scarlet eye.
The eye turned, scanning its surroundings as if searching for something.
Soon, it locked onto its first target — then a second, and a third.
By this time, more than half of the hand had already been devoured by the Gate of the Underworld.
The eye blinked, as though it was about to unleash something once again — but it was too late.
Before it could act, the Gate of the Underworld completely swallowed it, leaving only a single finger outside.
That finger twitched gently — and from the still-beating blackened heart below, three drops of black sludge floated into the air, hovering briefly before transforming into three sharp arrows, which shot off in three different directions.
When the final finger was swallowed, the Gate of the Underworld turned thin and faint, like a mirage about to vanish completely.
Then, suddenly — the gate, which had nearly closed, was forcibly pulled open once more.
A furious female voice roared from within:
"Damnable insect! You almost deceived me with your clone! Just you wait — I'll tear you to pieces!"
With that, the great gate slammed shut again — and the phantom of the Underworld Gate finally vanished completely.
In its place remained only the shattered Fallen Ring Array, and three blood-red circles connected together by a glowing crimson band.
But the very next moment, everyone — whether the surviving onlookers or the scattered witnesses from afar — forgot entirely what that furious voice had said.
All except one.
Hel.
Her true body stared blankly at the new black entries that appeared on her status panel:
[Mark of Corruption]
[Curse of Corruption]
[Pollution of Corruption]
She blinked in disbelief.
"Good grief... I've been hiding so carefully, and she still found me."
Then she shrugged.
"Oh well."
With a casual wave of her hand, Hel tossed the three black entries deep into her Word Vault and sealed them away at the bottom.
"Tch, I really got greedy this time. If I'd cut the link with the little mage sooner, I wouldn't have been exposed."
"Still… fortune favors the bold. Survive a calamity, and blessings follow."
Switching her view back to the little mage's eyes, Hel looked at the blood-red ring in the sky and grinned with excitement.
"Now then… time to harvest."
As her voice fell, the crimson ring began to change rapidly.
Starting from Hel's own Nation Transmutation Array, the entire blood ring began to rotate clockwise and fade away. As it passed over the other two arrays, each erupted in blinding light. The souls gathered within them were absorbed into the Ouroboros Ring, and from there, transmitted to Hel's own array.
Before long, the crimson light in the sky completely dissipated. The little mage's array under Hel's control disintegrated as well, dissolving into countless motes of starlight before vanishing entirely.
The world of the Sacrificial Kingdom finally fell silent once more.
Left alone at the scene, the little mage stared at the blood-red gem in her hands — the size of a grown man's fist — her expression one of wild joy.
Fourteen million souls.
Even after the Fallen Ring had consumed a portion of them, this was still the number that remained.
Such a vast reservoir of soul energy — enough to power even a forbidden spell.
Of course, only if Hel actually knew how to cast one.
Still, the risk had paid off handsomely.
Not wanting to tempt fate, Hel quickly had the little mage tuck the Philosopher's Stone safely away.
But just as she did so, a red-eyed raven flew across the sky toward her.
The bird flapped frantically, patting its chest like a frightened person and squawking:
"Gah! Scared me half to death! I almost got caught up and killed! Luckily, this great raven is clever enough to fly off early — otherwise, I'd have been buried with those fools!"
It paused midair.
"Huh? What do we have here? A living skeleton? How is there still an undead alive within the Fallen Ring's range? That's… impossible!"
Flapping excitedly, the raven swooped toward Hel like a dog spotting a bone.
"Gah~ gah~ gah! What are you, little skeleton? How'd you survive the Fallen Ring's influence? Or wait…"
Its tone sharpened suddenly.
"You're the one who ruined our Holy Church's thousand-year plan, aren't you?"
As soon as the words left its beak, the raven's body twisted violently.
Its eyes bulged, its frame swelled — and with a burst of feathers scattering through the air, a beautiful woman appeared.
She was draped in a cloak of black feathers, a pair of demonic horns jutting from her head.
"A mere fourth-tier skeleton? No… something's off. With such weak strength, how could you possibly wield that kind of magic? Someone's backing you."
Her crimson eyes narrowed coldly.
"Who is it? One of the Seven Calamities' Apostles of Pleasure? The Bone Servants of the Seven Kings? Or…"
Her gaze darkened, voice dripping with fury:
"Are you that bitch Yomi's underling?"
Hel could feel the woman's rage — so close to erupting that she could almost taste it. The only reason she hadn't been blasted to dust yet was because the woman still wanted to know who stood behind her.
Since she'd been given the opening, Hel saw no reason to waste it.
She grinned, her tone mocking:
"You can call me Morrigan, one of Lady Yomi's Four Great Commanders. And you are, old crow?"
The woman's eyes went wide.
"Third Blood Bishop Morrigan of the Cult of Ascension… so you've admitted it. Then you're of no further use."
Before the last word fell, she appeared in front of Hel, clutching her white skull in one hand.
"A weak little skeleton daring to call herself one of the Four Commanders — Yomi really has declined."
But the instant her hand touched Hel's skull, her expression froze.
"Wait… you're just a clone?"
Hel chuckled.
"Oh? You just noticed? Then as a reward for figuring it out — here's a little gift."
She snapped open her Word Vault.
[Word Granted: Paramecium (Black)]
Knowledge -120. Current Knowledge: -35.