As they spoke, a terrifying giant hand made of countless death elements lunged toward Hel. The dreadful pressure it carried was far beyond what an ordinary sixth-tier powerhouse could muster.
So the High Priest was also a Saint-rank being?
A faint trace of killing intent flickered in Hel's eyes. She didn't resist at all and simply allowed the elemental hand to reach for her. But the very instant it was about to grab her, the High Priest's pupils suddenly constricted. In a flash, he pulled his spiritual power back and stopped the spell midair.
Because at that moment, he felt a deep, chilling sense of danger. It was as if, should he continue his attack against the little brat before him, he would trigger some unimaginable calamity.
He sniffed the air, and then his eyes narrowed — there was a familiar scent coming from Hel.
"Kid, what's your relationship with Lady Pestis?"
The High Priest stared at Hel warily. Now he understood where that overwhelming sense of dread had come from.
Hel, on the other hand, sighed inwardly in disappointment. So close. If this Saint-rank priest had truly unleashed his death magic on her, she might've been able to harvest herself a brand-new Saint-rank undead.
She hadn't expected him to have such keen instincts — to the point of halting his own attack at the last second.
Still, it seemed he had misunderstood something, assuming that the death divinity's backlash — the source of his dread — came from Pestis herself.
That misunderstanding worked perfectly in Hel's favor. After all, she couldn't possibly kill him right now, and letting him believe what he wanted helped conceal her secrets.
So, she decided to go along with it and improvise:
"There's a lady named Pestis who told me to find Lady Polina to handle some transfer procedures. She said she wanted me under her command."
"You're looking for Polina?"
The High Priest looked at Hel as though she were an idiot. He wanted to scold her, but considering Pestis's reputation, he forced out a stiff, ugly smile.
"Polina's office is across the hall."
Seeing Hel's confused expression, he sighed, grabbed a robe from the table, and threw it on.
"Forget it, I'll take you there myself."
As he walked up beside Hel, his tone dropped, his voice turning cold:
"Listen, kid. I don't know what Lady Pestis sees in you, but remember this — in this world, might makes right. Today, I'll let you go for her sake. But you'd better forget everything you saw here. If I hear even a whisper about today from anyone outside, then even if Pestis herself wants to protect you, you won't live to see another sunrise. Understand?"
"Uh, I get it. Though… if you're that worried, shouldn't you at least pay me some hush money?"
Hel smiled lightly. Compared to the crushing presence of Pestis, the High Priest's aura was much easier to handle. If she went all out, she might even have a thirty-percent chance of beating him.
Not the kind of "three punches and I'm bleeding from seven orifices" kind of three-to-seven — but an actual thirty percent chance of victory.
Still, they were in the very heart of the Beastman domain. There were plenty of powerhouses around, and just Pestis alone could easily crush her. So direct confrontation was unwise.
Hel's real goal was to quietly plant a tag on this man — a rune or "word effect" — so she could later control him without lifting a finger. If she could turn a Saint-rank priest into her puppet, she'd have a powerful foothold to manipulate the Aira Royal Court.
Unfortunately, the man was more cautious than she'd expected.
He looked at her smug expression and snapped,
"You think that just because Lady Pestis fancies you, you're someone special? Seems I'll have to teach you your place today!"
The High Priest roared in fury and lifted his right hand.
[Intermediate Death Magic: Curse of Agony]
But the instant his spell struck Hel, an overwhelmingly powerful force — a backlash hundreds of times stronger than his own spell — rebounded from her body and slammed straight into his chest.
Caught off guard, the High Priest's mind exploded in agony. It felt as though every inch of his flesh were being sliced apart into mincemeat, the pain flooding through his entire being.
An ordinary transcendent would've been rolling on the floor screaming by now. But the High Priest was a seasoned Saint-rank warrior, hardened by centuries of life-and-death battles. It was only a pain curse — nothing he couldn't endure.
He gritted his teeth, his voice trembling with fury as he shouted,
"You little brat—get out of my sight!"
The next moment, a powerful surge of psychic energy condensed into an invisible hand and flung Hel out of the room.
Fortunately, he still had some restraint left; afraid of killing her outright, he held back his strength. And since Hel was far from weak herself, the blow didn't actually harm her.
The High Priest, however, was not so lucky. The moment she was gone, his face twisted into a grimace of agony.
It hurt — hurt like hell.
In all his centuries of life, through countless battles, he had never experienced pain like this. If not for his dignity as a High Priest, he might've cried outright.
Meanwhile, Hel picked herself up outside, sighing regretfully.
"So he didn't use an attack spell after all. From that reaction, he probably thinks Pestis gave me some powerful defensive relic that reflects magic. That means he won't dare attack me again.
And judging by what just happened, Saint-rank beings have an insanely sharp sense for danger — installing tags on them won't be easy. Unless I can immobilize them for an instant and make direct skin contact…"
Shaking her head, Hel decided to drop the idea.
Everything that happened just now had been an accident. She hadn't expected the High Priest to suddenly attack her — if she'd killed him, she could've made good use of his corpse. But now that he'd survived and grown wary, pushing her luck would only backfire.
After all, her goal here wasn't to seize control of the Supreme Church. She was here for one reason only — to find the Beast Witch.