My Celestial Ascension

“Does anyone else wish to die by my blade?” Sylvia asked coldly, her murderous gaze sweeping across the crowd of protesters.

The protesters stood frozen in place, too shocked to respond. Disbelief was etched into their faces as they stared at the severed head lying on the ground, blood slowly pooling beneath it.

The man who had just been killed wasn’t some ordinary merchant—he was the head of a prominent noble household. A Noble Count, no less. And yet, despite his status, he was executed in the blink of an eye.

Fear surged through the crowd like a tidal wave. Their bodies trembled, and cold sweat drenched their backs.

“H-How could you kill him just like that?! He was a high-ranking noble—A Noble Count!” one of the braver protesters finally shouted, though his voice trembled with fear. The shock still hadn’t faded from his eyes.

“Are you questioning me?” Sylvia raised an eyebrow, her eyes locking onto the man.

As their gazes met, the man’s entire body stiffened in place. It was as if his limbs had turned to stone. He couldn’t move a muscle, frozen under her overwhelming pressure.

“You kidnapped our people,” Mireya spoke, her tone sharper than a blade. “You sold them like goods to feed your bottomless greed. Do you truly think elven lives are mere merchandise?”

Her words echoed through the square, her killing intent swelling like a stormcloud.

“And still,” she continued, her voice colder now, “we gave you a chance—an opportunity to do the right thing and release them. But you refused. Did you really think we wouldn’t use force?”

“We will free our people,” she declared, her voice rising, “even if it means wiping out every single one of you. And don’t think about running. You won’t escape from here.”

Sylvia’s cold, merciless voice rang like a death knell through the square. Her bloodlust seeped into every soul present, paralyzing them with dread.

‘She’s not bluffing! She’ll really kill us all if we don’t comply!’ the crowd collectively realized, their faces going as pale as corpses.

“I suggest you release my people—right now—if you value your lives,” Mireya said with finality, her words booming through the air like a divine decree. “I won’t repeat myself. The choice is yours.”

The protesters clenched their jaws, frustration and despair mixing inside them. They had no one left to rely on. The Holy Church—the force that had once protected and empowered them—was no more. Now, they stood exposed and powerless.

“You can’t do this to us! We’ll lose everything! Please—we beg you!” one of the merchants cried out, falling to his knees with desperation in his voice.

Seeing him crumble, the others followed. One by one, they fell to their knees and begged like their lives depended on it. The arrogance they once wore so proudly shattered completely. They looked pathetic now—broken and defeated.

But neither Mireya nor Sylvia showed mercy in their eyes.

They wouldn’t forgive so easily. Not until every single elf was freed.

And they would make an example out of these fools—a warning to the entire world about what happens when someone dares to enslave their people.

“I don’t care about your problems—you should deal with them yourselves,” Mireya snorted coldly, her voice laced with contempt. Her words left the protestors utterly shocked and unable to respond.

Indeed, they had never once considered the lives of the elves when they captured them—selling them openly in the streets as if they were no more than livestock. In fact, they had even slaughtered the male elves and only spared the females, drawn to their beauty and grace.

‘T-This is all the Holy Church’s fault! If they hadn’t forced us to sell elven women as slaves, we never would’ve gotten into this business!’ the protestors cursed inwardly, shifting the blame from themselves to the now-destroyed church.

“W-We agree… I will release all the slaves I have with me…” one of the merchants finally spoke, his voice trembling as he dropped to his knees. With no other options, he chose to submit.

“Me too… I’ll also release every slave I have in my store,” another merchant echoed, his expression filled with resignation.

And just like that, most of the merchants gave in. They understood well that a few million gold coins were not worth more than their lives. As long as they were alive, they could rebuild their wealth. But if they lost their lives here and now, everything would be lost forever.

They weren’t fools. Pride had to bow to survival.

“Good,” Mireya responded, her voice still cold. “Now bring every elf here and remove their slave collars immediately. And don’t even think about hiding a single one of my people. The consequences for doing so… would be far more severe than you can imagine.”

‘Fortunately… I won’t have to spill unnecessary blood today,’ Mireya thought with a quiet sigh of relief. Her people—who had suffered for far too long—were finally going to be freed.

Shortly after, the merchants who had agreed to release their slaves left the scene hurriedly to carry out her command.

However, not everyone was so wise.

Almost half of the protestors still remained, their faces twisted with arrogance and pride. As nobles, they refused to bend—refused to be ordered around by someone they viewed as beneath them.

“What about you?” Mireya asked, her voice sharp like a blade as she turned her gaze toward them. “Are you not going to release the elves you bought? Or do I have to speak to each of you personally?”

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned their unmoving figures, her voice steeped in disdain.

“Hmph! Do you think we’ll back off just because you killed one man in front of us?” one of them barked with a scoff, his tone dripping with scorn.

“That’s right! We won’t give up something that belongs to us!” another added, puffing out his chest with haughty defiance.

Their voices joined in unison, reinforcing their arrogance. They had no intention of releasing the elves. Not out of fear. Not out of shame. And certainly not out of guilt.

“I see…” Mireya said slowly, a cold smile creeping onto her lips. “In that case, I suppose you won’t mind if we simply take them back… after killing you all, of course.”

She turned to Sylvia, her eyes serious, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Kill them all. We’ll visit each of their households next and free our people by force.”

“As you wish, Sister…” Sylvia grinned darkly, her eyes gleaming with delight. She licked her lips seductively, then gripped her daggers tightly—ready to unleash the storm.

“Hmph! Don’t think your bluff will work on us—we’ve seen this kind of act too many times before!” one of the noblemen shouted, glaring at Mireya and Sylvia with a furious expression.

“Heh! You think we’re bluffing?” Mireya scoffed, her tone laced with disdain. “How stupid of you to even believe that.”

“Since you’re unwilling to hand our people back… you can all go to hell now,” Sylvia said coldly.

In the next instant, she vanished from sight.

Swish!

A slicing sound cut through the air as Sylvia’s dagger effortlessly severed a nobleman’s head. The strike was so precise that it sliced through bone like butter.

Thud!

A moment later, the severed head hit the ground with a dull thump, blood pooling around it as it rolled lifelessly across the dirt.

Gasps and horrified screams erupted from the crowd. The nobles froze in shock, their faces turning pale, their hearts pounding in terror.

But before they could even process what had happened—or consider apologizing—another head fell.

Then another.

And another.

Within seconds, Sylvia had already executed nearly half of them. Her movements were so fast and lethal that none of them even saw it coming.

The remaining nobles, overwhelmed by fear and regret, turned and tried to flee—desperate to escape the nightmare that had suddenly descended upon them.

But they were far too slow.

The city was vast, but Sylvia was faster than death itself. Before any of them could run more than five meters, they were all slain—each killed the same way, their heads cleanly removed from their shoulders.

It was a horrifying sight.

Bystanders and ordinary citizens watching from afar began vomiting from the sheer brutality of it all. They had never seen such a massacre in their lives—and they knew they never would again. The image of nobles’ corpses lying headless in pools of blood would haunt them forever, a nightmare burned into their memories.

“They were so proud… so arrogant,” Sylvia said with a sneer, standing among the corpses, her blades still dripping. “Yet not a single one of them could defend against me. I didn’t even need to use any of my techniques. How weak. How pathetic.”

A few moments later, the merchants who had agreed to release the elves returned, leading dozens of elven slaves with them.

“What in the world happened here?!”

“W-What is this?! How did they all end up dead like this?!”

They gasped in disbelief at the carnage. Dozens of noble corpses lay sprawled across the ground, every one of them missing a head.

Their legs trembled, and their bodies went cold with fear. But even so, they felt a strange sense of relief—they had made the right choice.

“They refused to hand over my people,” Sylvia said casually, giving them a faint chuckle. “So, we killed them. Simple as that.”

“I-I see…” one of the merchants stammered, swallowing hard as he pushed the elves forward. “Just as you asked, we’ve brought every slave we had with us. Please… have mercy. Let us go. We beg you for forgiveness.”

“You may leave… after removing those collars from their necks,” Mireya said, nodding her head slightly.

“Thank you for your mercy, Your Majesty!” the merchant replied, bowing deeply before casting a spell to release the elves.

One by one, the slave collars dropped to the ground with a chorus of metallic clinks that echoed through the street. The once tightly-bound chains of servitude now lay scattered on the dirt like discarded shackles.

The other merchants quickly followed suit. Soon, the sound of metal clattering filled the air as collar after collar was removed, falling to the ground. It was a sound of liberation—one that brought tears of joy to many.

There were almost two hundred elves among the freed slaves, and now every single one of them was free.

Some of them began to cry—tears streaming down their cheeks as the weight of years of suffering finally lifted. Many had been torn from their homes, separated from their families and loved ones. Some had watched their kin die before their very eyes, and the trauma of those moments was etched deep in their souls.

“Thank you… Thank you so much for saving us, Your Majesty,” one of the elven women sobbed, kneeling on the ground along with the others. “You’ve saved our lives. We were about to be sold again…”

The rest followed her example, bowing before Mireya, their voices trembling with overwhelming gratitude.

“There’s no need to thank me,” Mireya replied softly, though her voice carried with it the pride of a ruler. “I am your Queen. It is my duty to protect my people—and I won’t ever let you suffer like this again.”

She offered them a warm, reassuring smile before continuing, “Now, all of you head to the Imperial Palace. Some of your sisters are already there. They will explain the situation to you, and you’ll have a safe place to rest.”

“And don’t worry—we’re going to rescue the rest of our people still trapped in the noble households. Once we’ve freed everyone, we’ll take you all back home… to our kingdom.”

“We understand, Your Majesty. Please be safe,” the elves replied in unison, bowing once more before they turned and headed toward the Imperial Palace.

A few moments later, Yuan and his wives arrived at the gates of the first noble household—one that was known to keep five elves as slaves.

With their Divine Sense, it only took a glance to see the elves inside.

And what they saw infuriated them.

The elves were treated worse than animals. They were thin, bruised, and confined in filthy conditions—looked upon by the proud nobles as if they were less than dogs.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!