A brand-new mental world entry. Although this one was somewhat damaged, it was still a mark of stepping into the Saint Tier. If Hel could find a way to properly utilize this entry, she might be able to create another Saint-tier powerhouse under her command.
However, this particular entry carried a troublesome prefix — damaged.
"Maybe… fusing them could repair it."
Hel rubbed her chin thoughtfully. But the cost was heavy — at least 40 points of system energy were required. And if she wanted to maximize efficiency, she'd need to reserve another 10 points to keep a sample entry.
"Should I try it?"
She hesitated for a while. But not for long. The benefit of gaining a Saint-tier subordinate was simply too great. And if this worked once, she would gain the ability to mass-produce Saint-tier beings in the future.
That single possibility alone made it worth risking everything.
"Let's do it."
As 50 points of system energy vanished, five brand-new damaged entries appeared in Hel's word library. After she placed them one by one into the synthesis panel and pressed the combine button, a system notification popped up:
[Special ability entry detected. Entry is in damaged state.]
[Two synthesis options available.]
Option 1: Damaged Bone Hill Demi-plane (Pink) = Damaged Bone Hill Mental World (Red) ×5
Option 2: Unformed Death-Type Mental World (Red) = Damaged Bone Hill Mental World (Red) ×3 + Saint-tier soul core ×1
Note: Each Saint-tier soul core contains the identity code of their mental world. Each Saint-tier individual can possess only one mental world. If multiple appear under the same code, newly created worlds will require re-authentication.
Hel frowned deeply as she read.
"Re-authentication?"
So that meant — she'd have to replay the mental world's vision phenomenon again? If that was the case, her plan to secretly build an army of Saints would be ruined.
Unless she could find a way to create a Saint-tier mental world without being noticed. But from what she knew, that was basically impossible.
Even if she went far south into the deep sea, the phenomenon caused by a mental world's birth could still be detected from the continent. That's why most Saint-tier breakthroughs happened inside one's stronghold — to avoid interference.
"Sigh… Forget it. One step at a time."
She selected the second synthesis method, and as the three red entries and the Archbishop's soul orb vanished, a brand-new red entry appeared in her word library:
[Unformed Death-Type Mental World (Red): Requires a death-type profession. The mental world's landscape depends on the user's personality and talents.]
"Death-type, huh…"
Hel thought about her subordinates. The Shadow Knights and Death Elves were technically part of the death category, but their souls were too fragmented — lacking personality — and thus unable to use the entry.
That meant the only viable candidate was… herself. Or more precisely — her avatar, Morrigan.
But whether it would succeed, she'd have to test it first. Just in case, Hel decided to let Morrigan perform the trial outside.
Soon, Morrigan reappeared deep underground in one of the shelters beneath the Bloodstained Plains. After sending undead insects to scout the surroundings, confirming no living beings within a ten-mile radius, Hel finally opened her word library and stared at the gleaming red entry once more.
"Let's hope it doesn't cause too big of a disturbance…"
With a silent prayer, she dragged the entry onto Morrigan's body.
In an instant, her vision went black — and then she found herself in another world.
The entire space was wrapped in mist. There was no sky, no earth — only vast rivers of death energy flowing endlessly in every direction.
Hel focused her mind, and the death energy began to gather. Soon, a massive glowing sphere condensed before her eyes.
"A world needs a sky and ground first… then…"
As her thoughts shaped the void, countless strands of death energy transformed. Some formed the sky, others became earth. Under a strange metaphysical influence, these pure death energies actually solidified into tangible matter.
"Normally, a necromancer's mental world would be filled with undead creatures. Quantity begets strength — that's their usual path. But as a Death Witch, the standard should be higher… grander."
With her words, the entire world began to shift. From the ground, enormous crosses like mountain peaks thrust upward. And nailed upon each — countless skeletons.
Angels. Dragons. Demons. Devils. Elves. Goblins.
Beings from every age and race — all crucified upon the titanic crosses.
Then, from beneath the ground, a colossal skeleton slowly rose. Its hill-sized body dwarfed even the giant crosses. It was the skeleton of an ancient dragon.
And atop its skull stood a tiny silhouette — Hel herself.
She descended slowly. When her delicate bare foot touched the dragon's skull, waves of thick death energy surged around her.
Moments later, a throne of bones, radiating dense necrotic aura, formed before her.
Hel walked forward and sat down, gazing down at the crosses that filled the world.
"Something's missing…"
She thought for a moment.
"Just bones are too plain. Let's add a bit of scenery."
As her voice fell, streams of blood burst from the earth, flooding across the land. Within moments, the entire ground was submerged in crimson.
Wherever the eye could see — blood-red horizons stretched endlessly.
And from that horizon, a full moon began to rise slowly. Yet as it reached the top of the sky, its gentle silver glow turned deep red. Drops of blood began to fall from its surface — one after another — painting the world beneath in scarlet rain.