Chapter 46: Darkin Disguise

Duoluosa keenly caught the glance the girl shot over.

The girl looked about twenty-something, her clothes relatively clean—no signs of abuse.

But Duoluosa’s heart still clenched tight; she strode forward at once, aiming to block the two green-robed priests from rampaging.

She cursed inwardly.

‘Damn it, these mutts—snapping at everyone? She looks twenty-ish; that’s… that’s adoption age too… No! Absolutely can’t let Liang Lai stir up pity again!’

With that, Duoluosa bolted to the priests’ front, arms flung wide in a bold “大” stance.

But before she could bark a scold, the pair grumbled and slunk off.

Truth was, the priests hadn’t planned to hassle the girl anyway—just venting earlier frustration with a casual kick.

Spotting Duoluosa charge in, they folded—not from fear of the kid, but dread the third saintess lurked near.

Watching the green robes flee in disarray, Duoluosa finally exhaled.

“Whew~”

Now Liang Lai couldn’t scoop up that wood-carver girl, right?

Duoluosa sized the wood-carver up careful: plain face, plain build, fumbling at her craft—no standout traits…

Even if Liang Lai dragged her home, she’d pose zero threat.

That thought eased Duoluosa further.

Liang Lai had meant to intercept the priests herself—only for Duoluosa to beat her to it.

Seeing the pair spare Duoluosa and the carver any grief, she slowed her pace, flashing Duoluosa a beaming thumbs-up.

Duoluosa’s lips quirked up faint—but she masked any glee, terrified it’d come off smug and grating.

She caught Liang Lai’s eyes then: scanning the surrounds, not lingering on the girl—so her heart, once lodged in throat, sank back easy.

But none noticed: the old honey-seller, quaking as he packed his stall, silver coin clutched—once he shuffled to a shadowed corner, his body deflated like a punctured ball, collapsing to a limp husk on the ground.

A black silhouette peeled from the withered skin, streaking line-thin toward the distant bell tower.

“Tch.”

Atop the tower perched a golden-haired girl, slender legs dangling off the eaves, swaying lazy.

Morning breeze kissed her porcelain cheeks, teasing loose a few silken strands.

She frowned slight, her all-white eyes—pupil-less—rippling faint displeasure.

Her lips, pale rose, pursed soft.

She. If not for that uncanny chill in her gaze, anyone’d peg her for some wide-eyed innocent, untouched by the world.

She tucked the stray locks behind her ear with effortless grace.

Sunlight bathed her, gilding her outline in faint gold—but it pierced not those vacant orbs.

“What rotten luck today—bumping into a busybody!”

She grumbled.

“Had those two green robes drag me to an alley for a beating, I’d have offed ’em mid-chaos and possessed fresh—slipped right into the church, bold as brass! Now? That saintess wrecked it all! Hunting fresh dead dustfolk skins again—gonna take ages!”

She vented her gripe here, but a voice drifted from behind:

“Dearest Mortifil, if you skipped the ‘just-died’ types and just offed a few dustfolk yourself… wouldn’t take long~ Task wrapped quick~”

Teasing lilt, laced with schadenfreude.

Mortifil whipped around.

A black-haired woman lounged against a tower pillar, long legs crossed elegant.

Arms folded under her chest, squeezing lush curves into tempting swell.

Raven locks cascaded to her waist, tips dancing on the wind.

She cocked her head, ruby eyes glinting playful mischief.

That porcelain-fine face looked early twenties—yet carried a maturity beyond her years.

Lips curved in a half-smirk, dragging the teardrop mole beneath her right eye to vivid life.

“What?” she purred, voice husky-lazy. “Where’d I go wrong?”

Mortifil sneered. “Heh, I reckon Veleris, you’re no saint yourself—still pathetically hunting those so-called ‘sinners’ to kill and skin-crawl into?”

Veleris unfolded her arms, shrugging loose.

“Call it whatever~”

“Indifferent, or did I hit a nerve?” Mortifil sneered again. “Don’t forget—we’re darkborn. No call pitying humans, ‘specially these blind church drones.”

Veleris tilted her head, lobbing a killer query:

“You school me fine—but tell me, why can’t you just slaughter dustfolk casual? ‘Cause you see ’em sinless?”

Mortifil choked, pupil-less eyes bulging; words failed her long moments—till she finally snarled and turned away, done with the woman behind.

She fixed her stare on distant Liang Lai and crew.

“You find her intriguing too?”

But Veleris scooted close, plopping beside Mortifil—her own long legs dangling too, swinging idle, a half-inch outpacing Mortifil’s.

Lucky for her, Mortifil missed the difference; she’d have bristled otherwise.

Her focus locked total on Liang Lai’s group, head swiveling to track their path.

“Mm, first church hothead I’ve clocked—bet she’s darkborn-possessed… Nah, even they ain’t that soft-hearted.”

By now, Liang Lai and hers had quit the dustfolk depths.

Once their figures vanished clean, the wood-carver girl—in a back alley—melted to a puddle of skin too; another black streak zipped back into Mortifil.

“Looks like your hard-won fresh-dead duo flopped~” Veleris chimed, all armchair quarterback.

After all, non-darkborn-killed skins maxed a month.

Mortifil raked her hair in fury. “I know! Spare me.”

Veleris propped her cheek, eyeing the way Liang Lai’s lot had gone.

“Think we’ve got a shot… at that softie saintess…?”