Chapter 115
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Chapter 115: Chyzh: This Little Devil Is Only at the Superlative Level, Why Not…
“Splash!”
On a narrow path cutting through the wild wasteland near Palgauro City, Chyzh Winchester, still recovering her strength and magic, was heading northwest. Suddenly, a large quantity of liquid poured down on her from above.
The liquid, reeking of alcohol and a deep abyssal scent, drenched her completely. It seemed to have been thrown from a great height, quickly soaking her hair and cloak.
Under normal circumstances, Chyzh would have dodged in time. Though her “Superlative Level Ranger” identity was merely a disguise, she was swift and agile.
But now, having just regained her mobility and still consumed by anger and dissatisfaction, her alertness was dulled. Assured that the succubus and the demon dragon weren’t pursuing her, she had let her guard down.
For five seconds, Chyzh stood motionless, touching the liquid on her face. She sniffed the strong scent of alcohol and removed a piece of abyssal vine tangled in her hair.
Looking around and confirming she was alone, she took a deep breath.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
The kind and gentle sheriff of Palgauro City suddenly let out a scream, stomping her feet furiously in the desolate night.
She was utterly frustrated.
Chyzh had been on high alert, ready for an attack from the succubus, but now all her suppressed emotions surged forth.
First, the demon race had inexplicably broken through the Western Front, derailing her plans for Palgauro City and plunging everything into chaos.
Yet, the Abyssal Dragons’ lack of intelligence made the situation somewhat manageable.
Then, within mere hours, the succubus had flipped everything upside down.
How had she discovered the underground altar? It was shielded by layers of barriers and spells, hidden even from Palgauro City’s leaders and the stationed church.
Why were her two human followers so powerful? Chyzh was certain that knight belonged to the Ryman Schwarzwald family—how had their descendants fallen so far as to serve the demon race?
And most infuriating of all was the succubus herself.
Why was her proficiency with magic circles superior? How was she adept at advanced rule-based magic, especially space spells?
And how could she wield Holy Light?
It wasn’t just Holy Light either. The succubus had used Ultimate Power.
Who was she?
What haunted Chyzh the most were the succubus’s parting words:
“Your god is dead.”
Had anyone else said this, Chyzh would have dismissed it as blasphemy or an attempt to shake her faith.
But the Ultimate Power radiating from the succubus had been genuine.
Coupled with her ability to cast Holy Light divine spells, those words chilled Chyzh’s soul.
Fear, hatred, regret, and despair burned within her, all ignited by the alcohol that now soaked her.
Chyzh didn’t even stop to wonder where the liquid had come from.
Negative thoughts consumed her.
What had her more than ten years of effort been for?
Ever since her father had been falsely accused, stripped of his position, and driven to his death, Chyzh had sworn to grow stronger. She had vowed to return to Seychelles and make those responsible pay.
Her father had sought to reform the Republic of Seychelles, a decayed and hypocritical system masquerading as “equal and free.”
But the so-called “new nobles” were more ruthless than the old aristocracy. His dream ended in tragedy.
From the moment her father fell ill, Chyzh realized one truth:
The Republic of Seychelles must die.
But at that time, Chyzh Winchester was merely a powerless noble girl.
In her despair, The Final Church had found her, offering her a position as the sheriff of Palgauro City.
Under the guise of fighting “cults,” she rose to power.
In secret, she constructed an altar using the souls and bones of wicked criminals and corrupt nobles.
She knew her “dark god” would bring everything to an end.
Her plan had been clear: bury the decaying Republic of Seychelles and ensure its destruction with her own hands.
It was supposed to be that way.
But the arrival of the succubus had shattered it all.
“Detestable! Detestable! Detestable!”
Soaked and trembling, Chyzh shouted into the night, her eyes red with fury.
Her decade-long efforts had crumbled to nothing. The sacrifices she had made felt meaningless.
Yet, beneath her anger and frustration, she didn’t realize that what she truly felt… was jealousy.
Why could the succubus so effortlessly wield Holy Light and Ultimate Power?
Why wasn’t that power hers?
If she had been granted such gifts, she wouldn’t have needed to align herself with The Final Church.
Lost in her spiraling thoughts, Chyzh failed to notice someone approaching from behind.
“Excuse me?”
A sweet, cheerful voice called out in the common tongue.
Startled, Chyzh turned to see a little girl hovering in midair.
On closer inspection, she realized this wasn’t just any girl.
It was a Little Devil, soaring in the sky.
Dressed in a Gothic-style outfit, her youthful face was framed by soft pink hair. Thin, translucent bat-like wings fluttered behind her.
The energy radiating from her was at the Superlative Level.
The sight made Chyzh instantly alert.
“Who… are you?”
“I’m Doyle Candice, just a simple messenger. I wanted to ask how to get to Palgauro City—don’t worry, I mean no harm.”
Doyle’s tone was polite, almost disarmingly so.
Chyzh hesitated.
At only the Superlative Level, Doyle wasn’t a significant threat. Even in her weakened state, Chyzh felt she could easily defeat her.
But for Chyzh, demons were no different from monsters.
And if this Little Devil was headed to deliver a message to the demon race in Palgauro City, intercepting her might yield valuable information.
As she debated her next move, Doyle suddenly frowned.
“Be careful!”
The Little Devil’s voice rang out, startling Chyzh.
