The moment Morte pointed at me, I had nearly lost all strength in my body.

He had probably just used Death Finger—

His signature technique, where he condensed his will into raw magic and fired it at a target’s heart, making it burst on impact.

It wasn’t magic in the traditional sense.

It was pure magical energy, blasted out at a speed faster than sound.

If Raven hadn’t interfered, I wouldn’t have even had time to blink before I died.

Just locking eyes with him had put me in mortal danger.

Akashmir was terrifying, but these Seven Sins were truly something else.

‘I get it now. In the otherworld, necromancers were nothing more than punching bags for the Church. No wonder he despises divine power so much.’

But still—instantly trying to blow up my heart without a second thought?!

That was taking things way too far!

I wiped the cold sweat from my clammy palms onto my thighs, then quietly slipped behind Raven to hide myself from Morte’s line of sight.

After all, Raven was the only one here who could actually fight this guy.

My beastfolk instincts, sharpened by my transformation, had naturally led me to take cover behind him.

Take care of that terrifying monster for me! You’re the protagonist—you can do it, right?!

Still clutching my fluffed-up tail to my chest, I silently cheered Raven on with every fiber of my being.

“Hmm… So this is how things were unfolding down here.”

Keeping his eyes locked on Morte, Raven scanned the area before furrowing his brows slightly.

It seemed like he had already pieced together the situation from just a quick glance.

Well, even to an outsider, it was obvious that this was a full-scale assault on the auction.

Someone as experienced and well-informed as Raven would have figured things out instantly.

And judging by Morte’s lifeless expression, Raven’s words must have hit the mark.

As if admitting it without resistance, Morte replied in a hollow voice, as if he were already halfway back in his grave.

“...Yes. I didn’t have enough corpses on hand, so I planned to replenish my ranks… I never expected my masterpieces, Vita and Verita, to be stalled here….”

Hearing that, I quickly pieced together what Morte’s plan must have been.

He had likely spread the rage gas in the auction, intending to mix his undead soldiers among the infected civilians.

Since the undead were already dead, the gas wouldn’t affect them at all.

If the entire area were filled with nothing but undead, then the Fixers could simply go all out and fight back.

But the problem was—the gas-infected civilians were still alive.

If the Fixers hesitated for even a moment to protect them, they’d fall victim to the gas themselves.

Then, Morte could overwhelm the hotel with his undead soldiers and newly infected Fixers.

If it hadn’t been for Tamamo holding off the Vita Sisters or Alice quickly evacuating the civilians—

We would’ve been completely screwed.

‘We were seriously lucky. I managed to suppress the rage gas too. If even one thing had gone wrong, we’d all be dead by now.’

Morte was considered the most difficult opponent among the Seven Sins for a reason.

The fact that we survived this encounter unscathed was nothing short of a miracle.

Well… if he had been here from the start, we wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway.

So, in that sense, we should count our blessings.

Raven seemed to have reached the same conclusion, as he scoffed, leveling his gun at Morte.

“Heh. Guess things didn’t go according to plan, huh? Can’t always expect the world to work in your favor.”

“...Indeed.”

Yet, despite Raven’s taunt, Morte remained unfazed.

Instead, he reached into his robes and retrieved something from within.

“But I have already accomplished half of my goal.

It’s unfortunate that I couldn’t bring despair to humanity…

But this is still a meaningful step toward our cause.”

“Our cause…?”

Shff.

Something rested on Morte’s withered, skeletal arm.

A crown—adorned with two red gemstones and two blue gemstones.

It was beautiful.

And unfortunately—

I recognized it immediately.

So much so that I wished I didn’t.

It must have been one of the items up for auction at Enigma.

That exquisite crown had a name—The Queen’s Profane Tiara.

An extremely dangerous artifact, crafted by a queen from the otherworld.

‘No way… So while the Vita Sisters were attacking the hotel, Morte was after that?’

That thing was dangerous.

No—if the Otherworlder Liberation Army got their hands on it, it would be catastrophic.

Which meant—

The moment I registered its existence, I instinctively gathered my divine power into the shape of a spear and hurled it at Morte with all my strength!

“Tch. How pointless…! Renta Depositio Putredinis.”

But my spear was effortlessly blocked by a floating mass of darkness that had appeared around him.

No matter how advantageous my attribute matchup was, the difference in level was just too vast.

At times like this, I desperately longed for the overwhelming power I had felt when Tesseract transformed me into an adult form.

…Not that it mattered.

Even if I could take that form again, the transformation would have worn off long before Morte even arrived.

“Tch! Alice! And you, purple head! Fall back, now!”

“Ah—yes!”

“H-Hey?! Why are you shouting at me—?!”

Bang! Bang!

Raven fired his gun, sending bullets flying toward the spreading darkness.

Of course, there was no way a simple bullet could harm Morte’s magic.

And yet—

To my shock, Raven’s bullets pushed back the dark mass, disrupting its spread.

And the reason for that was—

Every single shot cost thousands of credits—an incredibly expensive piece of craftsmanship.

It was similar to how vampire hunters coated their bullets with silver, making them lethal against their prey.

Since Raven couldn’t use magic, and his physical abilities were only on par with an orc, this was his one and only breakthrough.

‘But Raven is strong. His true strength doesn’t lie in being a fair fighter—he’s a ruthless, cunning hunter. If his opponent has a weakness… he never loses!’

And judging by his reaction, Raven must have instinctively recognized the artifact Morte had pulled out.

With a pitch-black gun in hand, he slid forward, firing continuously to prevent Morte from doing anything suspicious.

Of course, the thick, mist-like aura of decay surrounding Morte easily blocked the bullets, stopping them midair.

Or at least—that’s how it looked.

Puft! Pshhk!

Suddenly, two bullets pierced through the decayed mist, drilling into Morte’s body with sharp precision!

“Guh?! Y-You…! How did you bypass my magic?!”

“You idiot. Did you really think the same trick would work twice?! That spell you spread from above earlier…

I already analyzed all of it!”

Logically speaking, this shouldn’t have been possible.

Morte’s magic emitted a field of rot, decaying any attack before it could even reach him.

It was an undead magic that combined both offense and defense, leaving no real way to counter it.

Due to its layered nature, normal bullets should have never been able to punch through.

But Raven—

He had angled two bullets in a way that made them ricochet off each other, twisting their trajectory into an unnatural curve, and forcing a gap in Morte’s defenses!

A level of marksmanship so absurdly precise that it might as well be called a miracle.

“Kuh… My insides…! I didn’t expect this to be possible…!”

“Morte, sir!”

Drip.

Like a withered old tree oozing sap, Morte’s body began to bleed profusely.

The ricocheted bullets must have ripped apart his insides on the way through.

Black blood spilled heavily from the wounds in his collarbone and abdomen, staining the floor beneath him.

It seemed Raven had correctly identified Morte’s biggest weakness—his frail physical body.

Of course, Morte wasn’t truly alive to begin with—

He was an Elder Lich, possessing a corpse as a vessel.

So the wounds weren’t fatal.

But even he couldn’t ignore the damage—his weakened body would make it harder to control his magic.

And if this kept stacking up, it would become a serious problem.

Raven clearly wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

Aiming his gun at Morte, he declared coldly:

“Morte the Necromancer. Your reign of terror ends here.”

“Khhaha… How amusing.

Let’s continue this conversation… another time.”

Wait—what?!

Raven frowned, as if annoyed by the nonsense he was hearing.

Morte was cornered.

He had no soldiers to protect him, no fresh corpses to raise, and Raven had already figured out how to break through his magic.

There was no possible way for him to escape.

Even if he was one of the Seven Sins, Morte alone couldn’t turn the situation around.

…That is—

If it weren’t for the artifact he held in his hands.

“Remember this, black-haired human…

And you—Earth’s Saint.”

“….”

“…?!”

CRACK.

A harsh, tearing sound echoed through the room.

And within the swirling fog of decay, space itself began to rip apart.

The Queen’s Profane Tiara.

Its ability—

To open a passageway to any desired location.

Morte cast one final glance at us before stepping into the portal—taking Verita with him.

And just like that—

The fog of decay dissolved into thin air, leaving nothing behind.

Even though we had successfully blocked his attacks completely,

It still felt like we had suffered a massive loss.