Elena ultimately stayed, standing quietly in the courtyard's shadows like a plant that had silently taken root.
Van Helsing's consciousness clung to the thumb, observing the two sisters at the center of the storm without a sound.
Elena's decision to remain was no different from dancing on the edge of a blade—the outcome of what followed was almost predictable.
Time to add the final spark.
"You were so eager to send her away just now," Van Helsing's voice drawled lazily in Anna's mind, sharp with insight, "was it because looking at her felt like looking at your past self—twenty years ago, when you first became Black Baron's servant? You wanted that naïve Anna to escape this devouring place, the farther the better?"
Anna's body stiffened almost imperceptibly, as if pricked by an invisible needle.
She immediately retorted inwardly, "No! How could she be like me? She's nothing like me!"
"Fair enough," Van Helsing replied, following her lead—yet steering deeper."Same origin among disaster refugees, same fall into Black Baron's hands. But she burns with a desire to uncover the truth. She studies ritual arrays you yourself don't fully understand. She survives under both you and Black Baron's malice…"
He paused, then continued, his words dripping with poison.
"Compared to her—"
"Compared to what?" Anna's voice tightened in her mind. She knew nothing good would follow, yet couldn't stop herself.
"Compared to her, you helped Black Baron traffic people, hesitated over blood money from grain, and even considered killing your junior sister to climb higher…"
Van Helsing chuckled softly.
"She's nothing like you. From the same mud, she rose like a snow lotus. And you… twisted into something closer to a maggot."
"And when she voiced her suspicion earlier—did you really deny it because you believed the sect wasn't responsible? Or… because you couldn't bear admitting you've been serving those who killed your parents?"
"Enough!" Anna roared in her mind.
In reality, her right hand shot up, clutching her own thumb in a death grip, nails digging deep as if to strangle the presence within.
"What gives you the right to judge me?! What do you even know?!"
Her fury ignited, all honorifics long discarded.
"Do you think I wanted to become like this?!"
Her emotions broke past the confines of thought, spilling into the real world as a trembling, suppressed growl that echoed through the silent courtyard.
"She's only been whipped for two months! Me? Twenty years! Twenty full years!You say I trafficked people? Those weak and old—I always tried to let them go or made excuses! I only sent the strong ones, the ones who might survive in the mines!
"You say I coveted the grain money? My blood core was shattered! I needed resources! And her? Her blood core is intact—she still has a future! She could've been tricked into a soul contract! It was me—me—who killed Black Baron first to protect her!"
Her chest heaved violently, eyes bloodshot as twenty years of grievance, rage, and bitterness burst like a flood.
"Who helped me when I was beaten? Who gave me a way out when I was desperate? Yes, I've done wrong things! Yes, I'm twisted! But I wanted to be a good person too—a proper cultivator! Who gave me that chance?! Tell me—who?!"
The final words were nearly screamed aloud, tears streaming down her face.
Elena, who had been quietly watching, stepped forward and gently wrapped her arms around Anna from behind, embracing her trembling shoulders.
She said nothing—only pressed her forehead against Anna's back, offering silent warmth and support.
The unexpected embrace halted Anna's surging emotions mid-break.
She realized, belatedly, that her outburst had not remained confined to her thoughts—it had spilled into reality.
Van Helsing watched with satisfaction.
Good. All spoken.
If this were a game, this would be the moment—the special bond event, the CG unlock, the +10% attack boost.
He couldn't help but inwardly mock the thought.
But reality was always more… timely.
"Oh? What chance are you talking about?"
A voice—playful, cold, unmistakably malicious—pierced the moment like a poisoned icicle.
BANG—!
The courtyard gate was kicked open with brutal force, slamming into the wall with a groan.
Under moonlight and flickering torchlight, Voss stood at the entrance, composed and at ease. Behind him were five sharp-eyed enforcement disciples.
A cat-toying-with-mouse smile hung on his lips.
His gaze lingered briefly on the embracing Anna and Elena, then locked onto Anna's tear-streaked face like a predator fixing on prey.
Anna's heart slammed in her chest.
Why is he back so soon?Did they capture the black-market dealer? Did he reveal the finger's location?
Her right thumb trembled almost imperceptibly—like an arrow drawn tight on a bowstring, ready to trigger everything.
Voss stepped into the courtyard, confidence radiating from him.
"Looks like I was right," he said lightly. "A shattered blood core is like a broken bowl—no matter how much you pour in, it all leaks out."
He advanced step by step.
"And you still dream of cultivation? Then… how about becoming my concubine? No—" he smirked cruelly, "I've changed my mind. A slave suits you better. That's the proper place for trash like you."
Hearing the humiliation, Anna instead felt her mind steady.
If he had real information, he wouldn't be acting like this.
He hadn't identified her yet.
She lowered her gaze, hiding the cold light in her eyes, and softened her voice deliberately:
"You jest, my lord… someone like me wouldn't dare aspire so high…"
As she spoke, she subtly stepped forward, fingers hovering near her storage pouch—calculating the distance to his unguarded neck.
Voss laughed, pleased by her "submission."
Then, as if remembering something, his tone turned cold:
"That old Black Baron still hasn't shown up? Looks like… he ran off with the goods."
"…What?" Anna froze for a split second, genuinely confused.
Ran off?
Van Helsing's amused voice echoed in her mind:
"He thinks Black Baron got the finger and fled. Honestly… that logic fits an 'elite mob' pretty well."
In the original storyline, after all, Black Baron was the one who obtained the finger—and Voss came straight for him.
Compared to a cripple like Anna, the old, cunning Black Baron was the more reasonable suspect.
I see.
In that instant, Anna grasped Voss's reasoning.
A ridiculous—but perfect—opportunity flashed before her.
She had to seize it.
Her expression instantly shifted to one of uncertainty and alarm. Her eyes darted toward the gate behind Voss as she suddenly cried out:
"Wait—Black… Baron?!"
The shout carried just the right mix of surprise and unease.
Reflexively, Voss and the five enforcement disciples snapped their heads toward the empty gate.
Now!
In that instant, all hesitation vanished—refined into a single, icy thread of killing intent.
Anna's sickle flashed from her waist like a long-hidden serpent—
SHING!