Chapter 17: The Saintess’s Infiltration and the Hunting Knight’s Ambush

“Noah, where could my sister be?”

As Letitia fought a desperate battle to prove her worth, Issac, the loli cloaked in white, had already breached the city walls, making her way into the heart of the Demon King’s Castle.

Her quest had begun: to find the ‘Sister Noah’ she so earnestly sought.

Nestled against the mountains, the Demon King’s Castle commanded a vast expanse, occupying a full third of the Demon City, Irithyll.

Each night, the Demon King’s personal guard meticulously patrolled the castle, their lanterns casting dancing shadows.

These were the most formidable soldiers and knights in the entire demonic realm, a trump card the Demon King would never deploy or reveal without grave necessity.

A master of solo infiltration, Issac, whose expertise lay in masking her presence, meticulously chose the most treacherous routes, ensuring she remained utterly undetected.

For Issac, the very notion of height appeared irrelevant. With astonishing agility, she would deftly push off walls, use her backhand, and effortlessly scale structures dozens of meters tall.

A mere few minutes of keen observation were all Issac needed to discern the intricate patterns and opportune gaps in the personal guard’s patrols, allowing her to steadily advance towards the grand Demon King’s Palace at the castle’s heart.

“Sister Noah… will she be languishing in a dungeon, or has the Demon King ensconced her in some specially appointed chamber, a gilded cage for his treasured captive?”

A delicate furrow appeared between Issac’s elegant brows as she mused, considering where she, if she were the Demon King, would choose to confine the Saintess of Healing.

Having just eavesdropped on the garrison’s chatter, she learned that while they acknowledged the Demon King had seized the Saintess of Healing as a prized trophy, they remained utterly ignorant of the Saintess’s actual whereabouts or condition.

It seemed that no matter how vast their network or influence, every individual consistently displayed an air of ‘unawareness’ when questioned about the Saintess’s true location.

The thought had certainly crossed Issac’s mind to seize a garrison soldier for a quick interrogation, for dispatching a few personal guards was well within her formidable capabilities.

Yet, the Demon King’s Castle boasted an exceptionally thorough night patrol system.

Should a comrade’s lantern flicker out without the slightest warning, troops would converge with alarming speed upon the exact location where their companion had disappeared.

Issac, however, had no desire to draw undue attention all at once, compelling her to advance with meticulous caution, probing her surroundings one step at a time.

Up to this point, her infiltration had unfolded without a hitch. The Demon King’s Castle’s formidable barrier remained silent, and the personal guard patrolling the streets were remarkably quiet.

Issac, however, knew she could not afford to relax; her efforts must continue unabated!

Issac briefly clenched her small, pristine fists, then, with a fluid motion, vaulted into one of the grand corridors of the Demon King’s Palace.

The Demon King’s Palace, centrally positioned, bore a striking resemblance to a formidable castle, boasting expansive halls, intricate corridors, and a multitude of chambers.

The moment she stepped inside, Issac registered a heightened impedance from the Demon King’s Castle’s barrier, further dulling her senses. Henceforth, her search for Noah would rely solely on the keen edge of her intuition.

A mystical luminescence emanated from her azure eyes, and with it, the world around Issac began to twist and transform, every object appearing starkly different from its usual form.

Beneath the gaze of Issac’s demonic eyes, everything was laid bare: sinuous, blue lines flowed, while others converged into stagnant, murky points.

This was the ‘Demonic Eye of Origin Flow,’ Issac’s extraordinary power to pierce through all things, clearly discerning both the defiled and the impure, as well as objects of pristine purity and divine essence.

A profound mystery, this ability transcended the limits of her own senses and the castle’s formidable barrier. It was precisely this power that had granted Issac the audacious courage to infiltrate the Demon King’s Castle entirely on her own.

Moreover, Issac’s demonic eyes held the formidable power to ‘attenuate an adversary’s strengths and lay bare their most critical vulnerabilities.’

The beautiful, ceaselessly flowing lines mirrored within her demonic eyes were, in fact, conduits of energy, revealing an object’s most robust and potent points.

Yet, by simply severing along these very lines with a bladed weapon, even the most impenetrable defenses would utterly disintegrate before Issac.

They were akin to the grain of muscle or the vital flow of blood vessels—simultaneously the most potent and the most tragically vulnerable aspects.

It was through this precise method that Issac had dispatched countless adversaries of the Church, a feat that had earned her the formidable title, ‘Saintess of Life-Hunting.’

Clutching the spear and bladed weapon concealed beneath her cloak, Issac’s lips were drawn into a tight, resolute line.

She moved through the castle with the silent grace of a cat, ever vigilant for traps, ensuring not a single sound betrayed her presence.

‘It feels… so quiet…’

A prickle of unease stirred within Issac. From the moment she stepped into the Demon King’s Palace, every sound seemed to have vanished, leaving her in an unsettling void.

Neither the vigilant patrols of guards nor the soft rustle of maids could be found within the Demon King’s Palace.

The silence was so profound, it was as if no living soul had ever graced the halls of this ancient castle.

Issac suddenly froze, her extraordinarily sharp intuition screaming a dire warning, forbidding her from taking even one more step.

Just beyond the corridor’s bend, an presence lurked, something so utterly alien and terrifying that it sent a shiver down her spine.

The scythe, forged from glistening blue quartz, unfurled itself, its handle extending into a long shaft beneath Issac’s cloak. Slowly, Issac assumed a battle-ready stance, poised to meet the foe who had so cunningly lured her into this perilous depth.

How she had been exposed remained a mystery to her. The intricate camouflage woven into her cloak should have rendered her invisible to the Tower Knight’s piercing gaze and impenetrable to the Demon King’s barrier’s insidious probes.

Yet, she instinctively knew that the enemy before her had orchestrated this encounter, lying in wait for her with chilling patience.

Recognizing that their ambush had been compromised, the hidden figure emerged from around the bend, slowly revealing their imposing form.

Jet-black armor, sleek and form-fitting, seemed to contract and expand with their movements, resembling the formidable scales of a fish or a dragon.

A subtle metallic whisper accompanied each shift of the knight’s limbs. A long, heavy greatsword was sheathed upon their back, and their four-limbed posture, close to the ground, eerily mimicked that of a predatory spider.

Indeed, they appeared less like a knight and more like a primordial beast, specifically designed for the ruthless eradication of foes.

This was the Hunting Knight, one of the Demon King’s dreaded Four Knights!

Issac dared not betray even a flicker of complacency. She immediately recognized this aberrant knight, whose movements were disturbingly animalistic, and was acutely aware of his fearsome and blood-curdling reputation.

Expert in the slaughter of both demons and demonic races, and equally proficient in the eradication of humans and holy knights, the Hunting Knight before her stood as the most formidable among the four, unrivaled in both skirmishes and close-quarters combat.

Legend whispered that he was a descendant of the demon wolf, engaging in battle guided purely by bestial instinct and raw intuition.

His blade and claws possessed a terrifying fusion of speed and power, allowing him to effortlessly throttle his adversaries in the cloak of night, like some predatory fiend.

“Clang!”

The slender scythe met the sweeping curve of the greatsword with a resounding clang.

Issac gritted her teeth, the web of skin between her thumb and forefinger, clenched around the scythe’s haft, tingling numbly from the violent impact.

In this initial clash of steel, Issac found herself at a distinct disadvantage.

As the Saintess of Life-Hunting and a high-ranking Inquisitor, Issac had always leveraged her exceptional mobility and nimble agility as her paramount strengths.

Possessing the Demonic Eye, she merely needed to swiftly and deftly cleave through an enemy’s armor and flesh.

Yet, she had gravely underestimated the Hunting Knight, who proved vastly superior to her in every conceivable aspect: speed, raw power, sheer mass, and formidable resistances.

In the brutal arena of close-quarters combat, the Hunting Knight was an undisputed, virtually flawless, hexagonal warrior, excelling in every dimension.

Issac’s initial strike had meticulously targeted a specific ‘line’ upon the Hunting Knight’s shoulder. However, to her surprise, her attack was met with an even more crushing counter-assault.

Having experienced a disadvantage in the first exchange, Issac dared not be complacent.

She abandoned her direct assault on his perceived weaknesses, opting instead to circle and parry, leveraging her superior technique and mobility to evade his attacks.

The Hunting Knight, conversely, pressed forward with an unwavering, relentless advance, systematically eroding Issac’s precious maneuvering space through a combination of precise footwork and overwhelming strength.

With every fierce clash of steel, a subtle tremor ran through Issac’s diminutive frame.

Even if she harbored the desire to escape, the oppressive, heavy sword-wind that constantly enveloped him relentlessly sealed off any potential avenues of retreat.

“Hah… hah…”

Despite only dozens of exchanges, Issac was already drenched in perspiration, her breath coming in ragged, continuous gasps.