Ernesto stood frozen in horror, gripping the broken hilt of his sword, staring in disbelief at what had just happened.
Suddenly, Shiloh’s small hand shot forward, palm aimed straight at his skull.
Only then did Ernesto snap back to reality, his face going pale with terror as he desperately tried to defend himself. However, it was too late. Her palm struck him square across the face, and he let out a muffled groan as he was sent flying dozens of feet through the air before rolling across the ground.
When he finally struggled to his feet, his face was completely mangled and unrecognizable. He raised a trembling hand to point at Shiloh, trying to say something, but instead, a mouthful of blood came spurting out first.
Shiloh did not even spare him a glance. With a reverse pull of her hand, Morgan was yanked through the air toward her against his will. She threw a devastating punch mid-air, and Morgan’s back made a sickening crack. His bones were shattered, and his clothes were torn open with a gaping hole. Blood and fragments of organs gushed out of his mouth as if his life were being wrung dry.
“Die!” Shiloh said coldly, showing no mercy as she prepared to stomp down and crush Morgan’s skull.
Morgan was already at death’s door, and all he could manage was a bitter laugh.
Just then, Ernesto charged forward again. His hands traced a formation in the air, guiding his aura into the shape to form an octagonal formation that slammed into Shiloh with tremendous force. After all, he was someone who could match Jerome in skill, and he was not as weak as he appeared.
“Monster, with me here, I won’t let you keep slaughtering!”
The octagonal formation shifted and transformed in mid-air, radiating an ancient, mystical aura.
Shiloh’s lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. She said dismissively, “The Mistveil Peak’s Octa-Palm Exorcism? Not bad, but nothing special! Kid, trying this trick in front of me is nothing but showing off in the wrong place.”
Then, she formed a seal with her hands, and suddenly a black vortex opened before her. Ernesto’s octagonal formation was instantly pulled inside.
Nonetheless, he was formidable in his own right. His expression hardened as he roared, “Powers of Heaven and Earth, heed my call! Grant me the strength to purge this evil!”
His hands shifted rapidly, forcing the octagonal formation to transform, releasing beams of hazy blue light.
For a moment, Shiloh’s vortex began to tremble, close to collapsing. Even so, she only snorted coldly, her eyes flashing with a chilling black glow. The vortex roared to life, spinning with terrifying force. Its pull surged out violently, ripping Ernesto’s Octa-Palm technique apart in an instant.
Blood trickled from the corner of Ernesto’s mouth again, and he staggered backward three steps. For the first time, his eyes showed genuine fear as he looked at Shiloh.
Shiloh walked toward him step by step, her face completely expressionless. She said, “Well then, you can die before Morgan does! After you’re dead, I’ll march up to Mistveil Peak and wipe out every last one of your entire clan!”
Her light, casual words sent chills throughout Ernesto’s entire body. Suddenly, he remembered his master’s repeated warnings before he had left the mountain: the saintess of the Greene family was a being beyond the realm of martial strength. With his current level, if he ever encountered her awakened form, he was to run immediately.
However, Ernesto’s overwhelming pride had made him forget about this. After all, he was at least 20 years younger than Jerome, yet his combat ability was already equal to his. Mistveil Peak had many prodigies, but among them all, Ernesto was the prodigy of prodigies. Now, standing before Shiloh, he felt like nothing but trash.
“If you want to kill me, then do it. We of Mistveil Peak have never feared death. Monster, the Greene family was destroyed because it was fate. No matter how much terror you cause now, one day you’ll end up like your people: wiped out.”
He straightened his chest, ready to face death head-on.
Shiloh suddenly smiled, her finger flicking toward him. A bloody hole was punched through half his torso. The searing pain made sweat pour down Ernesto’s forehead as he gritted his teeth and groaned involuntarily.
“Feel it well. This is the agony before death. And remember–we of the Greene family are not extinct yet. So I promise you, before I die, Mistveil Peak will fall first.”
The words drained the last color from Ernesto’s face. Yet, instead of begging, he shut his eyes and waited for death in silence.
Shiloh tilted her head, looking bored. “Pathetic. Mistveil Peak’s priests all have the same tired spirit. In that case, just die.”
Dark energy coiled around her fingertip as she pointed it at Ernesto’s forehead.
“Wait!” Andrew’s voice rang out at the very last moment.