IMPRISONED FOR A TRILLION YEARS, I WAS WORSHIPPED BY ALL GODS!

“Endless Night!”

Beatrice’s sharp, furious roar pierced through everyone’s eardrums like a whip of sound.

Around her, small and lightweight objects began to tremble and shift. A strange force was drawing them in—pulling them steadily toward her position.

A tiny black sphere, seemingly capable of swallowing all light, began to condense in her palm.

It was a miniature black hole—formed entirely from dark element.

Only mages who had taken their mastery of dark magic to its pinnacle could even begin to touch such deep gravitational spells.

Yet Alice showed not the slightest trace of fear.

The golden blade in her hand, like a comet tearing across the heavens, blazed with such brilliance that even a black hole seemed dull and dim in its presence.

In a single heartbeat, the golden comet clashed violently with the black hole.

The resulting magical shockwave surged outward, blasting solid bricks off the nearby fortress walls. The force was so intense, it stirred up a small sandstorm in its wake.

Boom!

Moments later, the golden comet ripped straight through the black hole, tearing it apart with unstoppable momentum.

The darkness vanished. Visibility returned to normal in an instant.

Beatrice, however, was in complete shambles—her eyes rolled back, blood leaking steadily from her nose and eyes. Her appearance was nothing short of pitiful.

The two followers Beatrice had brought with her stood frozen, stunned. They had seen her face down opponents countless times at Lioncrest Academy, but now she had crumpled under Alice’s assault in less than a minute.

Frightened, they rushed forward to try and help her.

But Alice didn’t even glance at them.

Without turning around, she smashed her golden saber backward into the ground.

CRACK!

A jagged fissure, more than ten meters long, split open beneath her strike. It sliced straight between the two subordinates.

The message was clear—

Take one more step, and you die.

Seeing the two followers freeze in place, paralyzed with fear, Alice dismissed them with a cold snort.

Then she raised her blade again and strode directly up to Beatrice.

With a powerful kick, she sent Beatrice’s limp body crashing into a nearby tree.

Sharp branches and splinters impaled Beatrice’s arms and legs, suspending her in midair in a spread-eagle posture—completely restrained.

Alice took a deep breath and gripped her sword tightly, blade pointed straight at Beatrice’s chest.

In the very next second, she would pierce her heart and make sure Beatrice died without a corpse to bury.

But at that exact moment, a figure suddenly appeared, stepping between Alice and her target.

Alice instantly recognized the uninvited interloper—it was Tyrande, the vice headmaster of Lioncrest Academy.

Yet even Tyrande’s intervention did not halt her attack.

Her blade had already been raised. Until it was plunged into her enemy, she would not—could not—stop.

Seeing this, Tyrande hastily cast a spell. Emerald green light flowed into the ground, and thick vines wove together to form a defensive web in front of Alice.

She didn’t slow down in the slightest.

Her golden blade pierced into the tangle of vines and, in an instant, shredded them into glowing fragments of magical energy.

A flicker of surprise flashed across Tyrande’s face.

He launched another blast of emerald energy toward her, but the moment it neared Alice, it was torn apart by the blade aura emanating from her body.

The backlash struck him immediately—he coughed up blood on the spot.

Alice was coming for him now too. She intended to eliminate every obstacle in her path.

Panic in his eyes, Tyrande raised both hands and shouted earnestly,

“Duke Alice! Please restrain yourself! It wasn’t anyone from Lioncrest Academy who harmed Mr. Alan! It was Duke Mogan of the Kent Kingdom!”

He pointed toward the two terrified followers behind him.

“These two are also from the Kent Kingdom!”

The moment Alice’s icy, murderous gaze turned toward them, the two subordinates nearly jumped out of their skins.

“Did… did Tyrande just call her Alice?”

“As in the Alice? The Rose Duke from Plantagenet Kingdom? The Golden Blade Alice?!”

Alice paid no attention to their mutterings.

She simply raised her sword again and aimed it directly at the two men.

Just then, a voice called out from behind her.

“Alice Duke, Alan is awake.”

It was the third princess.

The frost that covered Alice’s brows and lashes seemed to melt just a little at those words.

She quickly sheathed her blade and rushed over to the third princess’s side, kneeling to check on Alan.

He was awake, yes—but still shivering terribly, as though he’d just crawled out of a frozen grave.

Seeing the worry in her eyes, Alan offered a faint smile.

“You didn’t have to make such a big scene on my account.”

Then he glanced at Beatrice and the two stunned followers.

“The way others treat me… that’s how I’ll treat them. An eye for an eye—tenfold if I must. That’s always been my principle.”

He wasn’t just stating a fact; he was reminding himself.

Not to rely on others for everything.

If Alice truly retaliated on his behalf, there would undoubtedly be whispers throughout the city.

Rumors like: “He’s the Duke’s personal boy-toy,” or “some nameless man hidden away in her mansion.”

Alan despised that kind of talk—the kind that followed you in shadows, whispered behind your back.

Alice was quiet for a long moment before she finally nodded.

“If that’s how you feel… then I won’t intervene further.”

“Hoo…”

Tyrande let out a long breath of relief.

If the Rose Duke had continued to press the issue, it would’ve created a massive headache for Lioncrest Academy.

The two followers, seeing Alice withdraw her terrifying killing intent, collapsed to the ground, their legs too weak to stand.

For a brief moment earlier, they’d been certain they were going to die.

Tyrande didn’t waste another word. He picked up the now fully unconscious Beatrice and began to walk away.

The two followers didn’t dare say a thing. They quietly followed, tails between their legs.

Alan watched their retreating figures, lips parting slightly as if he still had something to say.

But the third princess cut him off sharply,

“Shut up already. Your tongue is practically an icicle, and you’re still yapping?”

Alice also turned her gaze to Alan with a hint of sorrow in her eyes.

She lifted her hand instinctively, wanting to brush the frost from his cheek.

But before she could reach him, Barbara suddenly appeared and grabbed her wrist firmly.

“No, my lady. You mustn’t. You’ll only harm him further.”

The third princess and Alan both turned to stare at the noblewoman.

Alice, too, looked at Barbara in confusion.

Barbara let out a long sigh.

“My lady… I hope you will come to terms with who you are, and what position you hold. Please, don’t let yourself get lost over someone so… unknown.”

“Your family is powerful—one of the most prestigious in the world. Countless factions have fought and begged just to form the faintest connection with your bloodline. If people see you showing this kind of affection to a man like Alan… what will they think? What will they do?”

“You may remain safe—of that I’m certain.”

She extended a finger and pointed at Alan.

“But can he face the consequences? Can he withstand so many people plotting against him in the shadows?”

“Even if he manages to defeat one… or two…”

Her voice dropped to a solemn tone.

“What about ten? A hundred? A thousand?”

“No matter how strong a man is… even he has his limits.”

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