The sword blade cleanly sliced into the armor, blood spurting from the seams like fine red threads.

The one struck, unexpectedly, didn't cry out, but instead clenched his teeth and grabbed the hand holding the sword, as if trying to buy time for his companions.

Unfortunately, he underestimated the immense difference in strength between them.

Seventy-Six easily broke free from his grip, and as she withdrew her sword, she kicked him away.

The place where he was kicked felt like being struck by a blunt weapon, the entire piece of armor caving in. The knight spat out a mouthful of blood and fell to the ground, silent.

It seemed her fists and feet were more convenient, Seventy-Six glanced at the sword blade, already full of nicks after only one strike, and simply tossed it aside, charging at the others with her bare hands.

The hunter instantly became the hunted.

She leaped high, quickly moving across the shoulders of the clumsy knights. Each time she landed on someone's head, she would clamp her feet around their helmet and spin her body in a circle, using the momentum. The crisp sound of a snapping neck would be heard. Before they could fall, she would already be kicking off and leaping towards the next enemy.

Compared to Seventy-Six's nimble movements, the knights' counterattacks and dodges were no different from a wooden stake.

If she didn't land on an enemy's head, it didn't matter. Whether it was using strikes on the joints to unbalance them, and then following up with a fatal kick, or using her footwork to lure opponents, so that the blades meant for her ended up striking their own teammates, it was all effortless for her.

"This... is impossible!"

"Damn monster!"

After several rounds of fighting, the knights realized that their enemy couldn't be measured by ordinary standards. Not only was she immensely strong, but she was also extremely knowledgeable about swordsmanship and close combat. She was completely like a skilled and experienced warrior, and her precise methods of killing couldn't possibly be associated with the twenty-year-old woman before them.

"You all get out of the way!"

With a loud shout, Sir Logan charged into the crowd on horseback, rearing up his front hooves, heading straight for Seventy-Six.

The others hurriedly helped to block the gap, trying to trap her.

Seventy-Six grinned, advancing instead of retreating, raising her hands to grab the two horse hooves. The horse let out a long whinny, but didn't move an inch.

What she did next made everyone unable to believe their eyes. She lifted the knight and his mount off the ground together, and then swept them towards the surrounding knights. Those who were hit suffered broken bones and coughed up blood, while those who were severely injured died on the spot. Sir Logan himself was naturally the worst off. After being knocked off his horse, his body was twisted into an unnatural shape.

The surviving pursuers collapsed.

They leaped onto their horses, fleeing from the scene in a mad rush, wishing they could get as far away from this monster as possible. But Seventy-Six clearly wouldn't give them the chance.

Once the enemy gave up resisting, what followed was no different from slaughter.

...

By the time Seventy-Six had finished dealing with all traces of the battle, it was completely dark.

The knights' corpses were thrown into the nearby fields and covered with scattered stalks of wheat as a basic disguise. Although it was only a matter of time before they were discovered, the witches would have already retreated into Graycastle by then.

She got into the most luxurious carriage, lifted the cushion that Yoko usually lay on, and carefully felt beneath the cover, pulling out a magic stone ring that shone with colorful light. Even in the dim moonlight, you could see a vortex swirling slowly inside its crystal-clear interior.

After carefully inspecting the ring, Seventy-Six carefully put it in her pocket, smoothed out the cushion again, and lay back.

After that, she only had to leisurely travel to the next village, and then hire a coachman to take her to Graycastle.

They might not wait too long at the border, perhaps not even a day, but as long as the destination was Graycastle's Western Region, she would one day be able to see those witches again.

Looking at the bright crescent moon outside the window, Seventy-Six couldn't help but let out a sigh.

More than four hundred years had passed, and the Association, which once controlled vast lands, had vanished like dust. The only thing that hadn't changed was the starry sky in the night.

Only when she looked up at the sky could she feel like she was still alive – not living underground, nor living in the present after the Association disappeared, but living in the Holy City of Taqila four hundred years ago.

That incredibly prosperous witch empire.

The escape route afterwards... could no longer be considered living.

What supported her to keep going was only a faint hope.

...

"So, how does it feel to be back in a female body?" someone asked, "Do you feel a sense of being yourself again?"

She took two deep breaths, trying to move her wrists and ankles. "The distance is shorter."

"Of course, because this body is smaller," the voice chuckled, "Something too bulky wouldn't be suitable for serving those mortals. Besides, there are very few female Divine Will Army members to begin with, so don't be so picky."

"Appearance and age are also important," another person interjected, "If the mortals' aesthetics haven't changed drastically, how could anyone want those shells that look no different from men? Just standing there is sickening. Look at Elena, she'd rather have a male body than choose a defective product."

"That's right, yours is already the best-looking of everyone's."

"You know what I'm referring to, Pasha," she said helplessly, raising her head and looking at the giant tumor with twitching tentacles on the top of the cave, "This way, I have to re-practice controlling my limbs. From sewing to wielding a sword, every movement will take time to master."

"It doesn't matter," a tentacle fell down, gently poking her forehead, "The one thing we don't lack is time."

...

"Why do we have to deal with mortals?" Erxia, immersed in the scorching magma, blew a series of bubbles to show her dissatisfaction, "Can't we just bring the witches here to test their talents?"

"Have you been asleep for too long, your brain is getting muddled," Pasha retorted, "This isn't four hundred years ago. It's one thing to grab one or two, but are you planning to bring hundreds of witches to the deep mountains? I don't want to be seen as a monster by these younger generations."

"Then we could have the witches carry out the mission, right? Don't forget that these bodies that can move around are all enemies of the witches."

"First, they have to completely trust us, and they also have to have the ability to protect themselves. Where are we going to find someone like that? Mortals have already taken over the outside world. Sooner or later, we will have to deal with them, just like the Dawn Realm during the First Battle of Divine Will."

Pasha paused, then extended a tentacle and pointed at her, "What do you think?"

She flourished her sword, tossed it up, then slightly tilted her body, allowing the falling tip of the sword to insert perfectly into the scabbard. "I'm fine with anything... as long as I can restore the glory of Taqila."