Volume 3 Chapter 12 – The Woman in the Ice Coffin

“A thousand years ago, [Cursed with Malice] was the creation of a genius elf alchemist. Because of its heinously cruel effects, it caused widespread outrage and was unanimously condemned by the academic community of alchemy. The formula was officially declared destroyed by the Alchemist Association of that time,” Yimi recited a piece of history she wasn’t unfamiliar with.

“For at least a millennium, there has been no record of it being used. During the great demon invasion, surface civilizations suffered a catastrophic blow—many forging techniques and formulas were lost. Even if someone hoarded secrets, this potion’s recipe had long been forgotten by the world.”

“That such a ruthless and savage killing potion still exists...” Yimi stared in the direction the two masked figures had vanished. “Who are they?”

“We can figure that out later. Can we even get down now?” Teresa crouched, frowning as she looked at the corpses below, rotted and blackened by the poison mist, a trace of shadow flickering through her gaze.

“It won’t come to that,” Yimi said calmly, analyzing the situation. “According to the texts, [Cursed with Malice], while highly toxic and lethal, has a very short active duration once it becomes airborne. The mist should dissipate quickly.”

Sure enough, in just a short time, the purple mist thinned visibly and soon dispersed entirely.

A few minutes later, Teresa carried Yimi down from the rooftop. The air below had returned to normal.

Yimi held her forehead in silence.

“What is it?”

“This poison mist... I feel like I’ve seen it before.”

“Didn’t you just see it?”

“I mean before that. Someone once used this poison mist right in front of me.” Yimi clutched her forehead, trying desperately to latch onto that fleeting memory. But the only result was a spike in pain—nothing else came back to her.

“Don’t force it if you can’t remember.” Teresa stepped behind her, gently placing her ten fingers at Yimi’s temples, massaging her aching head in a steady rhythm to help her relax.

“...”

Yimi raised a hand, somewhat resistant, and pushed Teresa’s hands away.

Teresa didn’t mind. Seeing that Yimi had regained her composure, she quietly withdrew her hands.

Yimi looked at the golden-haired girl with a complicated expression. Her reason told her she shouldn’t grow attached to a woman who had betrayed her own kind. Yet both humans and elves were often ruled by emotion more than logic.

By all rights, the more time they spent together, the more Yimi should have detested Teresa—and she should have. Words and actions could deceive, but the heart could not—especially not one’s own.

“What is it? Are you feeling unwell?” Teresa asked softly as she noticed Yimi’s odd expression. Her voice remained as gentle as flowing water, as though she wasn’t speaking to someone who had vowed to kill her day and night.

The girl’s gaze was like a tranquil lake, exuding a maternal warmth that could soften even the coldest heart.

“...Nothing. Just finding you more and more annoying.”

“Annoying?” Teresa chuckled lightly, saying no more. She was already used to this taciturn loli’s frequent cold remarks.

She slung the flintlock back over her shoulder and then untied a long, bandaged item she’d been carrying—revealing a full-sized wooden bow.

“You analyzed those masked figures with Divine Appraisal, didn’t you?” Yimi asked after a pause.

As a Divine Child, Yimi’s Divine Appraisal was ranked even higher than Teresa’s, even with the Golden Butterfly’s boost.

Teresa didn’t know what Epic-level Divine Appraisal was called, but in terms of mental acuity, Yimi was undoubtedly a genius.

“I couldn’t identify their race.”

Teresa wasn’t surprised. As she’d expected, the “?” in the race field wasn’t due to her own appraisal level being too low—Yimi had seen the same thing.

***

A pitch-black laboratory glowed with a cold, sterile white light. Countless energy-conducting tubes extended from a massive power crystal into a colossal ice coffin nearly two meters long.

A handsome, upright man stood in front of the ice coffin, his upper body shrouded in shadow.

He gazed at the icy casket with a look of obsession, as though nothing in this world held meaning except for the woman inside that frosted coffin.

A soft sound came from the shadows behind. Two figures deliberately softened their steps.

They knew never to disturb their master while he was watching his beloved.

The two kneeled silently behind him until he finally looked up after a lingering glance.

“It’s done?”

“There were a few minor hiccups, but the mission was successfully completed. We didn’t fail you.”

“The logistics team has obtained the sample and data from this evolution event. They’ve already handed it off to the research group.”

“The researchers report it’s a difficult task, but they’ll do their best. All for your sake, Master.”

“Difficulty is to be expected. After all this time, I thought the Corpse Blossom would cause multiple divergence outbreaks. But only Kanz City erupted. That was unexpected.”

His emotionless voice carried a mocking chill. “Humans. After a thousand years, the one thing they never disappoint in is their instinct for self-preservation.”

“You have other information for me, don’t you?”

“During data collection, we encountered students from Coleman Academy.”

“Oh? Who?”

“We’ve met him before. That human—his name is Dylin, I think.”

“...That’s strange. He wasn’t supposed to be there—at least, that’s not what his dispatch report said.”

“He was accompanied by a blonde girl.”

“They’ve joined up? That’s... outside my projections. But it doesn't matter. A minor deviation.”

The ending would not change because of one person. No unexpected variable could derail the plan he had laid over a millennium. They were but pebbles tossed into a swift current.

“The Second Princess of the Gold Elves—is she still on campus?”

“No. She left Crown Manor a few days ago. Her itinerary simply states she’s out wandering—no destination noted.”

He hesitated slightly at that.

Was it casual—or intentional evasion?

She wasn’t someone to be underestimated. Even amnesiac, that Gold Elf was trouble from the start.

“You ordered us to be cautious of her intuitive perception, lest she notice anything unusual. So we’ve only been making irregular sweeps of Crown Manor to check if anyone remains.”

“The little princess didn’t follow the human?”

“No, we’re sure of that.”

“Do we need to keep investigating humans?”

“No. He’s just a human. Not worth allocating more resources.”

“Understood, Master.”

“Any updates on Astrid?”

“Astrid and her sister returned to the Land of the Elves. They’re with the Elf King. Nothing noteworthy.”

“Good.”

“In that case, whether she is or isn’t—it’s already too late.”

“The final sprint will be unimpeded. Nothing can threaten it.”

“Master, shall we assign others to monitor Teresa?”

“No. A mere amnesiac Elf War Goddess can’t stir waves. Besides, she’s part of my plan. Everything proceeds as scheduled. Let nature take its course. No one is to stir the waters.”

“Understood.”

“Dismissed.”

The two masked women in skintight suits vanished into the darkness.

In the stillness, the man’s previous indifference melted away. Gazing at the woman in the ice coffin, his eyes brimmed with tenderness.

“I will rescue you from your soul’s shackles.”

“Wait for me... Elica.”

***

By the time Teresa reached the mid-city district, it was already in shambles. This place had always resembled a refugee slum, but now it was nearly indistinguishable from ruins.

Collapsed brick houses, broken tiles piled like makeshift tombs.

One "benefit"—if it could be called that—was that the city was certainly more "lively" than usual.

The screams had diminished in frequency; the last moans of the dying were nearly over.

Survivors scattered. Desperation stripped away all restraint—cries for help echoed, each louder than the last.

How had it come to this...?

A woman clutching a wailing infant collapsed on the ground. Above them, a teetering pillar finally gave way.

Teresa reacted instantly. With a charged light arrow, she knocked the pillar aside.

The woman had fainted but still held the baby tightly, refusing to let go.

“This is a Strength Potion. It doubles physical strength for one hour.” Teresa handed Yimi a small vial.

“Take the wounded who are still alive and get them outside the city.” Knowing Yimi’s limited strength, Teresa had thoughtfully prepared the alchemical booster.

“We can’t save everyone.” Yimi paused. “Even if we do save them—where can they go?”

“They’ve lost families, homes—exiled and displaced. They won’t last long.”

“We’ll worry about survival later. I can’t turn a blind eye,” Teresa said gently, supporting the unconscious woman. “No matter what happens next, ignoring innocent lives while murmuring ‘natural order,’ or ‘survival of the fittest’—I can’t fathom how anyone could be so cold.”

“If we did that, how would we be any different from those who caused this suffering?”

“...I understand.” Yimi looked at Teresa with a complicated expression.

If Teresa’s kindness wasn’t an act—then those past events...

She shook her head. This wasn’t the time to think about it.

Besides, Teresa had always been a skilled actress. Who could tell which gestures were genuine?

But could anyone go this far just for a performance?

Watching Teresa carry the woman and child through rubble, desperately pulling survivors from debris, Yimi felt a tightness in her chest.

For a moment, she wished her memories were false.

But unfortunately, they were all too clear, too vivid to be faked.

“Help...”

As Teresa guided survivors to safety, her sharp senses caught a faint cry.

She followed the voice to a crumbling building. Just as she moved to enter, the support beam snapped and the roof collapsed.

She backed off, using Verdant Fragrance to extinguish the spreading flames.

“Help me... so dark, so cold... why won’t anyone save me?”

Because of the collapse, Teresa couldn’t enter directly. To avoid worsening the damage, she crawled through a narrow gap.

Activating her domain, she lowered her body and whispered through the opening. “Sir, don’t panic. Stay still. I’m coming to help you.”

The wreckage was barely holding—any major movement could bring it all down.

“I always helped others... even when taken advantage of, I smiled it off. So why, when I need help, is no one here for me...?”

“They abandoned me... it hurts, it hurts!”

“I did everything for them, and still, I was discarded...!”

“Sir, please calm down.” Teresa crept closer. With her enhanced vision, she saw a thin, tall figure in the darkness—his shoulder pinned under a broken beam, life fading.

“Can you move? Try to reach for my hand.” The gap was too tight to crawl through, so she extended her hand, voice calm and soothing. “Just a bit more, please. You can do it.”

“Why did they abandon me... why...?”

“Why?!” The man suddenly trembled, voice frantic.

“I don’t want to die! I’m not ready to die...!”

He flung the beam off himself and lunged toward Teresa, seizing her hand.

She froze.

Something was wrong.

No normal human could throw off a beam that easily.

In that instant, the man’s body began to twist. Black lines burst from his chest, wrapping around him.

“I’m not... ready to die!” His voice turned warped and harsh, like a broken accordion—deranged, no longer human.

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