They are all characters I control.

"Could it be that there's a room beneath the prayer room with a highly advanced sacred barrier set up..."

Ophelia stared at the now-numb crystal and murmured to herself.

Chapter 25 is finally out!

Isabelle arrived at the dungeon earlier than usual today.

The dungeon's stone door was still slowly sliding, and her feet had already squeezed through the gap.

He carried a basket containing a wooden cup and a small wine barrel, his steps light and quick, as if he were stepping to a cheerful rhythm.

Claire leaned against the stone wall, chains hanging on either side, watching her walk down the steps.

"So early today?"

“Hmm.” Isabelle smiled mysteriously, then squatted down and took the items out of the basket one by one.

Bread, cheese, cured meat.

These are all foods we eat regularly, but this time is different.

Claire raised an eyebrow when she saw the glass and wine appear.

"Oh? You didn't forget to bring wine today?"

“I don’t have to worry about it anymore.” Isabelle opened the barrel and poured the amber liquid into a wooden cup, the rich aroma of malt filling the small dungeon.

She raised an eyebrow smugly, watching Claire's captivated expression.

Miss Leah's specially prepared gift has now been delivered to Claire.

"Try it." She handed the wooden cup to Claire, a slight smile playing on her lips.

Claire took the glass, but didn't drink immediately. Instead, she swirled it and smelled it. "Imperial beer? Water from the capital?"

"Ah."

"You got this?"

Isabelle turned her face away and curled her little nose: "Don't worry about it, just drink."

Claire looked at her and smiled.

He took a sip, and the liquid spread in his mouth, carrying the slight bitterness of honey and hops, as well as the unique crispness of Wangdu water.

"This is the taste." Although Claire had also drunk the wine from her hometown when she controlled Leah.

Ultimately, it was still Lia's body that was used, and it was Lia's tongue that tasted the flavor.

At this moment, it is Claire herself who truly tastes this bitterness.

No matter how intense the taste was when using Lia's body before, it still couldn't compare to the taste I'm experiencing now on my own body.

For a moment, Claire looked up at the top of the dungeon, her expression filled with mixed emotions.

Isabelle's lips curled up even higher.

This guy is always complaining about wanting to drink, and now that he's had some, he's so happy.

Where is the old self who used to bring him alcohol and then get his disdain?

Claire took another sip, then put down her glass and looked at Isabelle.

The oil lamp in the dungeon cast a warm yellow light on her face, making her bright blue eyes shine.

"Thank you, Isabelle."

Isabelle was stunned for a moment; the unexpected thank you almost made her brain freeze.

“You’ve been taking care of me all this time.” Claire’s voice was calm, without teasing or joking. “Bringing me food and drinks, keeping people away from outside. I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”

Isabelle's face flushed red instantly.

"Uh, I'm not doing this for you!" She turned her face away, her voice a little tight. "I'm doing this for world peace and stability! Just stay here quietly and don't think too much!"

Claire smiled. "Really?"

"Of course!"

"Then why are you blushing?"

“I didn’t!” Isabelle glared at him, but something was clearly flickering in her azure eyes.

Claire picked up the wooden cup, took another sip, as if talking to herself, or perhaps to her.

"You have a great figure and a good personality. Although you're a bit too saintly, you'd be perfect for being a mother. If all the substitute saintesses were like you, that would be great."

"You bastard! You're doing this on purpose again..." Isabelle was about to explode.

But then she saw Claire staring at her intently, which made her blush.

Thinking back now, perhaps this is what Ophelia meant by the feminine scent emanating from her?

Claire looked into Isabelle's eyes: "No matter what happens in the future, I'm willing to consider you a friend, even if our statuses are opposite. I'm willing to listen to you, although whether I take your advice is another matter."

"Hmph, what friend? You're just a prisoner I'm keeping an eye on. Don't think you can treat others as friends just because I'm taking care of you."

Having been teased and pranked by Claire so often, Isabelle decided to retaliate.

"Really? You don't want to..."

"That's right! I don't want to!"

"That really is..."

"Who told you to be the Evil God Emperor? How many people can be your friends? I'm just a lowly acting saintess, and you often call me a stupid woman."

"hug……"

Claire's voice changed.

It wasn't her tone that changed; it was her body that was trembling.

The wooden cup slipped from her hand, spilling wine onto the floor. Isabelle then looked up and noticed Claire's unusual behavior; she saw Claire's brow furrowed and her face drain of color.

Moreover, an abnormal, water-like ripple appeared on the surface of her skin.

"Claire? What's wrong?" Isabelle panicked immediately.

Claire didn't say anything.

His body was trembling violently, and the chains on his limbs rattled.

His face was changing at a visible speed, not becoming ugly, but the outline was blurring, as if it were being kneaded and reshaped by an invisible hand.

"Claire! Claire! What is this? Is this poison? No, it can't be..." Isabelle frantically gathered holy light, casting wave after wave of purification spells on Claire.

But the light falling on him was like water droplets falling into a boiling oil pan, sizzling but not dispelling anything.

She was unaware of what was happening before her eyes; she had already purified the wine herself.

How could she still be poisoned? But regardless of Isabelle's doubts, Claire's body continued to change.

Isabelle had never seen anything like it. Was it Lia who poisoned her? Or...Ophelia!?

However, it was no longer important to think about this at this point; Claire's body continued to undergo strange changes.

"Wait here! I'm going to get the potion! I have a sacred potion that can break all curses!" Isabelle stood up and ran towards the dungeon exit.

The stone gate slowly closed behind her.

Silence returned to the dungeon.

Claire leaned against the stone wall, looking at her wrists which had become slender, and slowly exhaled.

"Thank goodness, if we had delayed any longer, we would have been exposed."

Then he reached out and grabbed the iron chain hanging by his side.

With a gentle tug.

The iron chain broke out from the stone wall, and rubble flew everywhere.

He stood up and stretched his now more dexterous hands and feet.

The effects of the shapeshifting potion were still ongoing; his body had shrunk by a size, and the chains that had once tightly bound him were now hanging loosely on his body, easily pulled apart.

Claire looked down at her unfamiliar body, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"Thank you for the wine, Isabelle."

Next, he needs to think about his new image.

Chapter 26 The Seamless Transition of Discipline by the Acting Saintess

Ophelia stood by the window, examining the crystal over and over again.

“I’m isolated,” she murmured to herself, placing the crystal on the table.

Her potion mark was neither dispelled nor erased; it was simply kept outside by that layer of power.

It's like being separated by an invisible wall; you can see the other side, but you can't touch it.

But Ophelia wasn't in a hurry.

Although they didn't know more, they understood that Isabelle had hidden something beneath her prayer room, and that the wine had been sent there by her.

Who would have thought that something was hidden beneath the prayer room of the most disciplined prayer agent saint?

Could it be the evil god emperor Claire that I've been searching for all along?

Ophelia tapped her fingers lightly on the table, once, then again.

If there really is something shady hidden there, she'll have to find a way to get Isabelle out of there and then go in to find out.

Just then, the crystal on the table suddenly lit up.

The dark red patterns began to flow again, faster and brighter than before.

Ophelia suddenly stood up, grabbed the crystal, and turned her perception to the maximum.

The potion's effects are still there, and the barrier is still there, but the 'alcohol' has now moved outside?!

Watching the potion mark move within the crystal, Ophelia easily understood that the wine she had laced with the potion must have been drunk by something, and that person was moving through Isabelle's prayer room.

But is it also possible that Isabelle drank it herself?

"My lady." The voice of the judge nun came from outside the door, tinged with urgency: "There's been a problem with Lady Isabelle."

Ophelia didn't turn around. "What's going on?"

"She suddenly left the prayer room, looking flustered, and was searching the world for a holy potion to 'lift the curse.' Her attendants had never seen her so distraught."

Ophelia remained silent for a moment.

Then she smiled.

That's the satisfaction of a hunter finally waiting for his prey to emerge from its den. Now that Isabelle has already gone out, what is it that bears the potion mark? That's a bit intriguing.

"Interesting, really interesting. I hope it gets even more interesting next."

She tucked the crystal into her sleeve, turned, and walked towards the door.

"Notify everyone to clear the area." Ophelia's voice was calm, but every word carried an unquestionable authority: "Around the prayer room, in the garden, in the corridors, everywhere that people can walk, leave no one behind."

"Yes." The Sister of Judgment bowed her head in acceptance, but she didn't forget the other acting saintess: "What about Lady Isabelle..."

“Don’t worry about her.” Ophelia pushed open the door, the moonlight shining on her face and making her deep purple eyes shine even brighter. “She doesn’t have time for us right now, which is for the best.”

The corridor was deserted.

The nuns had already cleared the area, and even the patrolling church knights had been reassigned elsewhere.

Ophelia walked alone through the garden, up the veranda, watching the mark in the crystal draw closer and closer to her.

Then, she saw it.

On the lawn in the garden, a small figure is jumping down from the windowsill.

The moonlight fell on him, casting a long shadow.

It was a boy.

He looked to be no more than eight or nine years old, shirtless, wearing only an overly long pair of pants with the cuffs rolled up several times and tied around his waist with a straw rope.