The Dark Princess’s Judgment

The Bishop pointed at me, exclaiming, “Are you, truly, the guardian of the dungeon, the legendary Coolie? What exactly is your true form? How dare you deceive everyone by taking the guise of a young girl!”

“My true form? Hmph, this is how I’ve always looked.” I spun around slightly, my skirt fluttering above my slender, pale legs.

The Bishop’s face turned ashen with terror, his thick fingers pointing at me as he roared, spittle flying, “Rumor has it that Coolie is a terrifying demon, ten meters tall, with massive curved horns, engulfed in flames, and spewing molten lava from its mouth!”

“Rumors also say the Church of Light is a symbol of justice,” I remarked nonchalantly, advancing towards him.

“You, you dare to question the great Church?! You, aren’t you afraid of divine punishment!”

“Did Asta, who saved the villagers from the plague, or Leona, who fought to protect her domain, ever receive divine protection?” I continued, stepping closer.

The Bishop and the Redfang Fortress Lord both retreated steadily. The Fortress Lord drew his sword, while the Bishop pulled the golden crucifix, an emblem of the Church of Light, from his robes. “They are witches, defilers of God’s will! Only by accepting God’s judgment and dying can they show loyalty to God! Only by dying! Die!”

“Shut up, you waste,” I said coldly, a strange ripple shooting from my fingertips. “Silence spell.”

“Go—ugh…” The Bishop gasped, his mouth opening and closing frantically as if suffocating, his fat fingers trembling as he pointed at me, yet no sound escaped him.

I hadn’t realized that the silence spell, a potent weapon against mages, could be used in such a way. I truly admired my own flash of inspiration. He thought he could out-talk me if he couldn’t beat me? Not a chance!

The Bishop, having exerted himself too much trying to speak, began to have trouble breathing. He clutched his chest and collapsed to his knees.

I walked up to him, my cold eyes looking down. “Speak, then? Where is your god? Did they protect you?”

The Bishop glared at me furiously, but remained speechless.

“Hah! What a ‘Bishop of Light’! You are nothing but a hypocritical, sanctimonious, false-benevolent, truly pathetic, vile liar, who bullies the weak under the banner of God. Goblins, though ugly and short, at least dare to attack tall warriors. But you? You only cruelly abuse women who cannot resist! If your soul hadn’t already become so filthy and depraved that even killing you would sicken me, you would already be ashes consumed by dark flames! Continue to grovel in this hypocritical world with your base, sordid body and utterly corrupted virtue! Just as sewers need rats, wretches like you also have a purpose: to serve as inferior bacteria, strengthening this world’s resistance to malicious disgust! Be humble—be fawning—live on in squalor! You, you worm of light, utterly devoid of even the worth to die!”

“Cough… cough…” The Bishop’s thick fingers turned pale from shortness of breath. He pointed at me, wanting to retort, to argue, to scream, but no sound emerged. His fanatical, pathological obedience to God had long since led him astray, yet now he was unable to use his stubborn theories to attack me, unable even to pray to his god or cry for help.

The obese Bishop’s face was purple, his eyes bulging, his features twisted in agony.

Pfft—!!!

He spat out a mouthful of black blood and fell to the ground, his pupils dilating with resentment, bloodshot and red, his corpulent body convulsing uncontrollably.

“Bishop Richelieu!” The Redfang Fortress Lord stared in disbelief at the Bishop, who had been enraged to the point of paralysis.

“Witch! How dare you insult God’s representative!” As a noble of the territory, the Redfang Fortress Lord had never endured such humiliation. In his fury, he ignored the disparity in strength and roared at me.

“I advise you not to approach me. Not all witches are tools for your violent abuse. I will not warn you a second time.” I stated calmly, not even glancing at the Redfang Fortress Lord.

“You b*tch! I’ll cut you down for your insolence!” The completely enraged Fortress Lord, bristling with anger, roared and raised his sword, charging at me.

In the sky, dark clouds rolled, and a peal of thunder echoed.

Boom—!!!

A bolt of white lightning, thicker than a tree, struck down from the thunderclouds, hitting the Redfang Fortress Lord mere steps from me. In an instant, the Fortress Lord was reduced to a charred, humanoid silhouette.

The entire scene fell silent. The remaining crippled and wounded soldiers sat weakly on the ground, and the onlookers, the villagers, seemed to sink back into numbness from the incomprehensible events.

I stood on the judgment platform, my foot resting on a chair, and addressed everyone present: “I am Coolie Lombane Aryan XVI, the Dark Princess of the Dungeon!

Originally, I could have quietly rescued Asta and the others. However, the young girl’s words awakened me. The persecution of witches has continued for millennia, with people blaming their misfortunes on innocent others, simply because they are different from you! Just because a young girl loves another girl, her elder sister, she is to be stoned to death, all because of your prejudice, jealousy, and ignorance! If I were to conceal my identity here, would that not be tantamount to admitting the sinfulness of these girls’ actions? No! Asta, Leona, you are innocent! I, Coolie, the Dark Princess of the Dungeon, will not only save your lives but also clear your names before the entire world! Love between girls—it is innocent!”

“Lady Coolie…” Asta and Leona, tears blurring their vision, leaned into each other, looking at me with overwhelming gratitude.

I gazed at the sky, now obscured by dark clouds, watching the rampant electrical serpents writhing within them. I declared to the crowd, “Eighth-tier magic—Thunderstorm—has been cast! In a few minutes, this village will be destroyed by the lightning storm, reduced to ashes! This is your punishment, you ignorant, selfish, cruel fools! All of you, flee for your lives, on the double! Get far away! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!”

The Dark Princess’s unrestrained laughter echoed amidst the thunderous roars.

The charred lord and the quivering, infuriated Bishop were stumbled away by soldiers, and the heavily built Balrog was directly tied to two oxen and driven off. The villagers scattered like startled birds. The strong-arming nobles and the apathetic commoners, when fleeing for their lives, reacted faster than anyone!

Minutes later, the rolling thunderclouds flashed, illuminating the dim world.

Booming—!!!

Thousands of overwhelming lightning bolts descended from the clouds, transforming this decaying Beirut Village into a scorched wasteland.

Amidst the thunder, lightning, and torrential rain, I walked away from the village, now a sea of electricity, my black cloak billowing. My black twin-tails, reflecting the lightning, danced in the strong wind. Behind me followed Faein in her black attire, and the Asta sisters, supporting each other as they walked.