NOVEL NEXT Chapter 607: Hear Me
With her hands trembling and her face pale from blood loss, Ishana felt her head grow heavy. She gritted her teeth, clutching the silver arrow tightly in her bloodied hand.
Memories of her life began to flash before her eyes.
In her mind she saw herself leaving the demon continent, setting foot in Soltheon for the first time. It was there she had crossed blades with a young adventurer—and lost. By the terms of their duel, she became his maid. That man had been Lilith's father.
Her breathing was ragged, shallow, each breath a painful effort. Yet the vitality of the demon kin, strengthened even more after gaining a class, kept her clinging to life.
The sounds of the hunters drew closer, but her mind was calm, her heart strangely still.
She thought of the Snake Temple, once so beautiful. They had all been raised there on tales of the Unknown God. Whether those stories were true or the imaginings of dreamers remained uncertain. But Ishana remembered how, whenever her eyes fell upon the symbol of the Unknown God carved behind the statue of the goddess, she always felt an ache of loneliness radiating from it.
'Was the god behind it lonely?' she often wondered. 'If so… then he must be sad. Loneliness cries louder than any prayer.'
Perhaps that was the true reason she left the temple—not out of rebellion, but because she could not bear to keep witnessing the loneliness of the god she served.
"I don't want my Lilith to be lonely," Ishana whispered, her lips pale as bone, her voice faint. "I pray she finds companionship…"
Her head swayed as her body weakened, strands of her dark hair falling limply over her face. Forcing herself to raise her eyes, she saw the vague silhouettes of temple ruins ahead—and the dark-robed figures moving swiftly toward her.
No, the temple was far. She was just lethargic.
One of them, perched upon the branch of a tree, paused. His cold gaze fixed on her battered figure. Ishana's legs gave out, and she collapsed to her knees, clutching the blood-slick arrow until it nearly slipped from her grip.
Seeing their focus turn to her, Ishana exhaled and closed her eyes for a moment.
The man in black smiled thinly.
"Demon… surrender. Where is the girl?"
Ishana gave a dry laugh, blood dribbling from her lips.
"Ohhh… the girl? I ate her. She was quite scrumptious."
The man wasn't fooled. He knew demon kin did not eat humans—that was propaganda to keep the masses ignorant and fearful of the demon continent. His expression remained flat.
"Ahh, a shame."
He raised his hand and gestured for the others to advance.
"We will enjoy making you squeal, filthy sow."
Ishana's eyes narrowed. She did not flinch as they approached. Instead, she pressed the arrow into her arm. Her lips moved as she began to chant in a low voice.
The air around them grew heavy. The trees themselves shivered, branches swaying as if recoiling from her words.
From the wound on her arm, her blood began to coil and twist, forming a symbol across her skin. It was a pair of wings with a swirling darkness at the center, shaped like an eye, with two crossed swords behind it. The mark pulsed with an aura both holy and abominable.
It was beautiful and hideous. Benevolent and malevolent. An imperfection etched in blood.
When the Templar saw it, his face went pale.
"She's one of the witches of the Snake Temple! Kill her now!"
Before they could move, the world itself seemed to shift. The natural laws bent and cracked as if something greater had replaced them. In that instant, the dominion of the Unknown God descended, twisting reality itself.
Ishana screamed, blood pouring from her nose, eyes, and mouth. The cost of invoking divine power was absolute. For a mere mortal to dare borrow the might of a god—this was the price.
The Templars understood as well as she did. She would not live through this. Death would claim her within moments. Yet she still raised her hand.
"Die!"
Her body surged forward, no hesitation, for she had only seconds left.
Her mind flashed back to her years in the Snake Temple. The forbidden ritual they had all been taught. It was not a curse, nor a gift. It was a grace—the final rite of a priestess. A ritual to enter the Unknown God's dominion, to touch his power, at the cost of their lives.
The Templar death squad moved to shield their masters, fanatical and fearless. But Ishana's trembling hand traced a final motion through the air, and her blood ignited.
A silver light tore from her body. She felt her soul pouring out with it, life draining away in a torrent. Space itself split open and stitched back together in the same breath.
The death squad froze mid-charge. No wounds marred their bodies, yet their faces twisted in terror. Those who had been trained to embrace death without hesitation now trembled, struck with a primal fear they could not understand.
Then, without warning, they collapsed.
No blades touched them. No wound could be seen. Yet their lives were gone. The forest floor was painted red as their blood poured freely from within, raining down as if reality itself had bled them dry.
The remaining Templars stared in horror. A silence deeper than death settled. For a moment, they were reminded of their own insignificance before the unknown.
Their leader's hands trembled as he lifted them, whispering a prayer to the goddess to steel himself.
"Doom protect us…"
He forced his voice to steady.
"After the girl. Find her. This one is already gone. Bring the girl back alive."
None dared to touch Ishana's body. Even in death, it was too terrifying. They moved around her, leaving her broken figure behind. The corpses of the demon witch would serve as proof enough.
As they faded into the forest in pursuit of Lilith, Ishana's hands twitched. Her blood-soaked body quivered against the earth.
Her eyes opened once more, vision clouded, blood streaming across her face. With all the strength she had left, she raised a trembling hand to the darkening sky.
"Hear me ..... Unseen Sovereign... Hear me..please"