Chapter 96: The Black Nun’s Dance of Retribution

It was night, and a canvas of black shadows painted the entire sky.

Even the high-hanging half-moon, with its feeble light, could not illuminate the village engulfed by the night below.

The inherent, profound darkness seamlessly concealed a figure, their ethereal movements like those of a phantom.

Her steps were utterly silent, ensuring no one noticed the approaching shadow.

Unseen, she made her way towards a large, ancient house, stopping before its tightly shut door.

Her ears, sharpened by magic, meticulously listened for sounds within, refusing to miss the slightest tremor.

Clink, clank, clatter.

It was the sound of cups and dishes, and even from outside, she could imagine the joyous atmosphere within.

A banquet was being held.

Typically, at such gatherings, eating and drinking were not the main focus; people’s attention often centered on the conversations at the table.

She had arrived at precisely the right moment. The banquet inside had only just begun, as a chorus of voices rose in a toast:

“We, the representatives of our respective families, raise a glass to the village chief!”

The men’s shouts echoed one after another, following the clinking of glasses.

Afterward, an old man’s voice began to speak:

“My fellow villagers, that our village survived this crisis was not solely due to my strength, but to the efforts of everyone.”

The demon forces, having suffered casualties in the war, were forced to relocate elsewhere.

To the villagers, this was, of course, a cause for celebration.

What made them even happier was a shout of glee:

“The armies of the great nations seem to have suffered heavy losses too! I went to the battlefield this afternoon, and it was strewn with corpses!”

As this joyous declaration fell, a dozen other voices chimed in:

“Those soldiers deserved it! Who told them to covet our village?”

“It’s best if they all died, saving us from future disturbances.”

“Our village is free, and it will never integrate with the outside world!”

The villagers articulated a truth:

With the complete annihilation of the Seven Great Nations’ soldiers, there was indeed no power left to claim their village.

Even the Kingdom of Sero, the sole victor of the war and rapidly expanding in power, was currently preoccupied with devouring the territories of the great nations, deeming such a small place unworthy of notice.

Through these convoluted circumstances, the village had returned to tranquility.

For this, everyone in the village was delighted, and the village chief was ecstatic.

The former rejoiced at avoiding contact with the outside world.

The latter was pleased, knowing no one would dominate them anymore.

Such is often the way with some people: once their minds are at ease, their words and actions become unrestrained.

Standing at the doorway, listening to the commotion inside, it was at this moment that she most easily heard the true thoughts of her familiar neighbors:

“Although we survived this crisis, we lost a villager. It’s truly a pity.”

“A villager? You mean that Nun? Ah, don’t even mention it. Now you’ve made me feel down too.”

A nostalgic atmosphere spread, even seeping through the door and into the outside.

From a distance, she could sense the malice in people’s hearts.

As if to confirm her suspicions, the voices from inside continued:

“We won’t find another free servant, you know. Now I’ll have to do some of the household chores myself.”

“Can your situation even compare to ours? My son always said he liked that woman, constantly pestering me about marrying her.”

“Your silly son who can barely string a sentence together? Don’t be ridiculous. The Nun wasn’t blind; she wouldn’t have looked at him.”

“Why not? I even bought the ‘medicine’. If it weren’t for the demons, I would have invited that woman over recently, and put the ‘medicine’ in her bowl…”

“I quite liked that woman too, but she was a bit thin. She would have been prettier with a little more flesh.”

“Hey, old man. When the village suffered famine that year, the Nun begged at your door, and you didn’t give her a single grain of food. Isn’t it a bit contradictory to complain about her being thin now?”

“That was my own food! Of course I couldn’t give it to anyone! I was hoping one of you would show some kindness.”

“Forget it. Why should I benefit an outsider?”

“Calling her a person is generous; she was just a dog. Would you give anything to a dog?”

“Hahahahaha, you’re absolutely right!”

****

Hearing this was enough.

Convinced that her neighbors had not changed, she confidently began to manipulate the elements.

As if countless threads converged, silently wrapping around her slender hands, they refracted with magical patterns.

Looking up at the pale moon in the sky, her eyes softened at the corners, and she couldn’t help but think:

‘The villagers weren’t wrong; the village truly won’t integrate with the outside world in the future.’

‘Because tonight, this ancient, historical village will have no ‘future’ at all!’

The village was finally illuminated.

The flickering light affected a wide area, and the rising flames quickly warmed the place considerably.

Yet, even after igniting such a massive fire, the young woman’s heart remained utterly unchanged.

Her heart had turned cold. Even as the external heat brushed against her in the wind, causing beads of sweat to form on her skin, her inner self, wrapped in layers of ice, showed no signs of thawing.

Far behind her, beyond the all-consuming sea of fire, a transparent magical barrier completely isolated the village from the world.

Ordinary people and those with power alike could not escape, and not even a single sound could pass through.

But within the village, the incessant cries of agony echoed everywhere.

Flames, like a blanket, wrapped around the young, burning through their flesh but never falling off, then searing their internal organs.

A beam, severed by the fierce fire, suddenly dropped, crushing a man who hadn’t managed to escape the house.

The moment he hit the brick floor, he did not die instantly; that would come later. For now, he faced the inescapable torment of his final moments.

Trapped in the inferno, women were suffocated by thick smoke before the flames could consume them, their lives extinguished.

An old man slipped while running, falling heavily to the ground.

Before he could rise, he was repeatedly trampled by panicked villagers fleeing for their lives, slowly embracing death.

Everyone had to die, yet death was usually not fair.

Those who were healthy, those who were wealthy, death would greet them later.

However, death inflicted by human hands was absolutely fair!

The high-born, the low-born;

Adults, children, the elderly;

The rich, the poor;

Those alone, those surrounded by descendants.

The death that descended upon these people happened on the very same day!

Though their deaths differed, the fear and despair felt in their final moments would make them regret ever being born into this world!

A certain young woman passed by.

She witnessed the entire process of slaughter, but because she had no intention of stopping it, Cai paid her no mind.

At the peak of the fire’s spread, the Pure Black Maiden could not help but dance.

Margaret Elmos sang with a beautiful voice:

“Death blooms like a flower, how beautiful its fleeting grace ♪

Skeletons rise from the earth, come, let us dance in this place ♬

The deceased approach me, their eye sockets hollow and torn ♪

Holding stark white bones, their forms gracefully transform ♬

Dead by their own deeds, terrified by death, driven mad by fear ♪

None of it matters, none is heeded, none is held dear ♪

Die! Scream! Hate! ♪

The moment of demise is most exquisite, wails the sweetest sound to hear ♬

From death it begins, to oblivion it ends ♪

The value of life lies in its destruction by one’s own hands ♪

The taker of life is the most revered ♪

Kill one, a smirk; kill ten, pure cheer ♬

Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands die by my touch, now I laugh without end ♪

Laugh heartily, cheer wildly ♪

Applaud, clap your hands ♪

On this day of celebration, in this moment of remembrance ♬

Declare this one time, lend your ears to my words ♪

The black raven speaks, the withered trees speak, the charred corpses speak:

Look! Look! ♪

The Black Nun has been born!”

After that melodious song, a terrifying laughter erupted:

“Kukukuhahaha…”

When the sound faded, the Pure Black Maiden was nowhere to be seen where she had stood moments before.

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