It's so hard being a hero!

The question came so suddenly that Frey's face turned red instantly.

She opened her mouth as if to say something polite, but swallowed the words back down.

After a few seconds of silence, she raised her head, met Beatrice's pale golden eyes, and said in a calm but firm tone, "No matter what she becomes, that soul will always be hers, and I don't care about that."

Beatrice stared at her for several seconds before straightening up and smiling.

This time, the laughter carried a hint of genuine appreciation, unlike the previous one which seemed deliberately meant to amuse.

"Hmm, she's quite a perceptive girl."

She raised her right hand and gently twirled her fingers in the air.

A silvery-white light emerged from her palm, swirling around her fingers as if it were alive, eventually weaving into a simple, antique-style silvery-white hair ornament.

The crown has no superfluous decorations on its surface, only a ring of very fine light patterns flowing slowly across the metal surface, like a variant of some ancient script, radiating a warm and reassuring glow.

"Alright, since it's our first meeting, I should at least give you a small gift."

Beatrice handed the crown to Frey.

"This is the Crown of the Goddess of Light. Wearing it will enhance the light magic within you, allowing your light spells to temporarily reach the level of a demigod. Although it is only effective against light magic, it has special effects against demons and should be useful on the battlefield."

Frey was completely stunned.

She certainly knew what a piece of equipment that allowed a Saint Realm expert to temporarily unleash the power of a demigod meant.

If this kind of treasure were on the Starfall Continent, even the Holy See would fight tooth and nail to get it. But this woman just casually gave it away, like giving away a bouquet of flowers. It was far too casual.

"This is too valuable..."

Frey instinctively wanted to decline.

"Take it."

Beatrice casually shoved the crown into her hand without a word, as if she had just given her a piece of candy.

"It'll just collect dust if I leave it there, so I might as well give it to someone who can use it."

Frey looked down at the silver-white hair crown in her palm; light flowed across its surface like a living stream.

She paused for a moment, then carefully put it away.

"Thank you, senior."

Sophia stood by and watched this scene, her lips twitching involuntarily.

She moved closer to Beatrice, nudged the other's arm lightly with her shoulder, and muttered, half-jokingly, "Sister Beatrice, that's not very nice of you. You gave my wife such a nice gift, but you didn't prepare one for me?"

Beatrice turned her head and glanced at her, her eyes conveying a clear message: "How dare you even speak?"

"You don't need it."

She said it very bluntly.

"You had people giving you equipment wherever you went in your past life, so I don't think you'll lack it in this life. Besides, your current path doesn't rely on equipment for a living, so giving it to you would be a waste."

Sophia opened her mouth to refute, but after thinking about it, she realized that she really couldn't refute it.

In her previous life, as a Holy Son of the Church, she certainly didn't lack equipment. Although her level has dropped in this life, her combat experience is still there, so she doesn't really rely on external forces.

"Fine, you're stingy."

She muttered something, but didn't really take it to heart.

Beatrice ignored her and turned to look at the dark purple horizon in the distance.

Even though they were so far apart, she could still clearly sense the dark aura that lingered over the ruins of Zhenmo Pass.

The smile on her face gradually faded.

"That thing is even more arrogant than I imagined."

She said something in a low voice, her tone no longer as lazy as before, and her face adopted a quiet expression of serious thought.

Sophia followed her gaze and looked in that direction.

"Can you handle it?"

She asked.

Beatrice did not answer immediately.

She stood there quietly, gazing into the distance. After a long while, she nodded gently.

"It can't be dealt with, but it can be suppressed if we try."

She turned around, looked at Frey and Sofia, and her tone returned to its lighthearted rhythm.

"Let's go back to that city you mentioned and take a look. We need to see it with our own eyes to know what it actually looks like."

Sofia nodded, then turned to look at Frey. Frey put away the hair ornament, met Sofia's gaze, and had a faint smile on her lips.

"Let's go then."

She raised her hand and slashed open a dark blue spatial rift in front of her.

Beatrice glanced at the crack, raised an eyebrow, and was the first to step inside.

Sofia and Frey followed behind, entering the closing blue light one after the other.

The floating island fell silent again.

On the surface of the stone gate of the sanctuary, the light of the runes had completely dimmed, and the initial silence had returned.

Chapter 137 The Power of the Divine Realm

When Beatrice reappeared, she had already arrived in the City of Divine Punishment.

The moment she stepped out of the spatial rift, the light above Tianqian City seemed to be turned up a notch.

She looked down from mid-air.

The busy crowd on the street stopped and looked up; some squinted, while others gaped in astonishment.

The light was so pure that everyone bathed in it felt a sense of peace welling up from the depths of their soul, like the warmth of a baby returning to its mother's womb.

"Such a rich power of light."

A soldier on the city wall muttered to himself.

Beatrice didn't just hover in mid-air. Her gaze passed over the layers of buildings and city walls, over the vast blood-red plains outside the city, and landed on the rolling dark purple mist in the far distance.

She watched quietly for two breaths, then moved.

Her figure merged into the light itself, vanished from her spot, and reappeared hundreds of meters away in the sky above the plain. The next instant, she was hundreds of meters away again.

The guards on the city wall only saw a golden streak of light trace a straight arc, rushing towards the darkness in the west, so fast that it left only a blur on their retinas.

After flying for a while, scattered demon soldiers began to appear in the field of vision.

Those were soldiers who had retreated from Zhenmo Pass but failed to return to the Demon Realm in time. They were wandering around the plains in groups of three or five, some gnawing on the bones of their prey, and others tearing at each other and fighting for territory.

The first thing they noticed was that the light had become brighter.

The dark sky that had been hanging overhead seemed to be torn open by some force, and golden sunlight poured down, shining on the dark purple skin.

Before the demon who first raised his head could even let out a warning roar, his body had already begun to melt from the edges.

Like a snowman that has been exposed to the sun all summer, starting from the fingertips, the skin becomes transparent, and the flesh turns into tiny golden specks of light, gradually dissipating into the air.

Other stragglers met the same fate at the same time.

Some tried to escape, but their limbs gave way as soon as they took a step; others tried to raise their weapons, but their bones fell apart before they could even grasp the weapon.

Some squatted on the ground, curled up in a ball, and let out low moans, which lasted only two or three seconds before stopping abruptly.

In less than ten breaths, dozens of demon soldiers vanished without a trace.

Only a few pieces of bone, charred black by the high temperature, remained on the ground, still sizzling and emitting blue smoke.

Beatrice didn't even blink, continuing to fly forward at the same speed, her gaze fixed on the swirling dark purple mist ahead.

After flying for about fifteen minutes, the fog got closer and bigger.

From a distance, it was just a blurry shadow, but up close, its true form was finally revealed: a living wall formed from the condensation of dark energy.

Occasionally, a few cracks appear on the surface of the fog, revealing a thicker blackness inside, like a deep pool beneath a human eyelid when it blinks.

Beatrice stopped about fifty meters away from the fog wall.

She didn't rush to make a move; she simply hovered in mid-air, quietly observing.

The churning dark energy surged even more violently after sensing her presence.

Twisted bubbles began to emerge from the surface of the fog, each bubble bursting with a sharp screech, like the death cry of some creature.

Beatrice gently raised her right hand.

Palms facing the wall of fog.

The power of light surged from her palms, flowing out naturally and smoothly, like turning on a tap, without any preparation or buildup.

The light was dazzling, so pure that it was impossible to look directly at it.

It was like a silent torrent, crashing against the wall of darkness.

The moment they made contact, the surface of the fog wall surged violently as if a spoonful of boiling oil had been poured on it, with countless bubbles bursting at the same time, their hissing sounds merging into a piercing shriek.

The darkness began to dissipate.

Beatrice did not stop.

She walked step by step toward the Demon-Suppressing Pass, leaving a golden footprint in the void with each step. Those footprints hovered in mid-air for a long time, like a staircase leading to the light.

The collapse of the dark energy is accelerating.

Large chunks of dark energy peeled off the wall, curled up into a ball on the ground, and struggled like scalded insects.

Most of it was directly dissolved by the golden light, leaving not even a trace.

Wherever she goes, light follows, and wherever light goes, darkness retreats.

It's as if there's a natural, irreconcilable enmity between light and darkness; the two cannot coexist and can only wax and wane.

Beatrice passed through the original location of the fog wall and stepped onto the land of the ruins of the Demon Suppression Pass.