“Who is it?” Tilis asked curiously.
Ophelia waved to the waiter and ordered another cup of coffee.
The new coffee exuded a rich aroma, and she sipped it leisurely, which only made Tilis grow more impatient.
“You woman, why do you always have to put on this annoying aristocratic air no matter the situation? Who is it? Just tell me already!”
Ophelia slightly raised the corner of her mouth, feeling that she had finally regained the upper hand after a long time, now that Tilis needed something from her.
“Don’t rush, let me explain slowly.”
Facing Tilis’ increasingly displeased gaze, Ophelia finally stopped beating around the bush.
She whispered, “Our eastern nemesis, Norsgul, recently had a major incident. The Holy Maiden of the Weston Papacy deposed the Pope. It’s said that the Pope was imprisoned in his room and starved to death...”
“The Pope is dead?” Tilis suddenly froze.
When it came to international affairs, Tilis was far less sensitive than Ophelia, but such shocking news still made her ponder for a moment.
“It is indeed a big deal, and a good one at that, but what does it have to do with what we’re talking about?”
“You really don’t know?” Ophelia lightly covered her mouth, feigning surprise. “It seems the intelligence of your Magical Hermitage isn’t all that impressive, huh?”
Tilis’ face darkened as she glared at Ophelia, who was mocking her.
“Cut the nonsense.”
Ophelia chuckled, “The current Holy Maiden of the Papacy, the shadow ruler of the Holy Light Church, is none other than that priestess from our past~”
This finally caused Tilis’ expression to change.
She frowned, “So it’s her. No wonder the actions of the eastern nations have become increasingly difficult. They’ve kept it so well hidden...”
Originally, there was only one church in the northern continent—the Holy Light Church, located in the central holy city of Weston. However, after the rise of Wegnar in the southwestern frontier, the church split, and the Wegnar diocese broke away from the Papacy’s jurisdiction, becoming an independent church that no longer obeyed the Pope’s orders.
This involved a very complex historical context, but regardless, for a mere priestess to rise to become the ruler of such a long-standing orthodox church was truly astonishing.
And more importantly...
“But I don’t really like her...”
The witch showed a troubled expression.
“That woman talks endlessly, always spouting grand principles, and constantly tries to get me to convert to the ‘righteous path’ and embrace the true gods...”
“And her smile is so fake, it makes me feel uncomfortable all over...”
Tilis shuddered, recalling that gentle, sunlit smile, and felt goosebumps rise all over her body.
Ophelia burst into laughter, “So there’s someone who actually scares you...”
She had thought this woman was fearless, someone who didn’t take anyone seriously.
“Who said I’m scared of her!” Tilis snorted coldly. “I just find her annoying, and besides, light and darkness are destined to never merge! I hate all the hypocrites in the church!”
“Yes, yes, yes...” Ophelia smiled. “But think about it, if your vision really comes true—”
“If you become the most powerful magical force on the continent, and I hold Wegnar, the strongest secular power...”
“What are we still missing?”
“Of course, spiritual power! The church!”
Ophelia looked at Tilis, who wore a bitter expression, and patted her shoulder earnestly.
“For Luo Wei, for the world, you go and deal with her first. I won’t keep you company anymore. See you later.”
Tilis stood there, frowning and pondering for a long time. By the time she came to her senses...
The coffee on the table had gone cold, and Ophelia was nowhere to be seen.
“What she said does make some sense, but why did she leave?”
The witch rested her chin on her hand and began to seriously contemplate.
Gradually, she felt something was off.
“The Papacy is so far from here, and the church hates us to the core...”
“Why does it feel like she’s deliberately sending me away, so she can have Luo Wei all to herself...”
The witch felt she had uncovered the truth.
...
Meanwhile, when Ophelia returned to the luxurious hotel...
She immediately spotted Luo Wei sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a book.
“You’re quite the studious one, aren’t you?” Ophelia walked over with a teasing smile, noticing how seriously he was studying the thick magic tome.
“Huh? Ophelia!” Luo Wei glanced up at her, but his eyes quickly returned to the book as if they couldn’t leave it.
“Wait a second, if it’s nothing urgent, let me finish analyzing this magical structure first.”
Ophelia’s rising anger was instantly stifled.
She suspiciously observed Luo Wei, who was deeply absorbed in the book, and realized he was genuinely studying. She quietly sat down beside him and joined him in reading.
Half an hour later.
“You must be done by now, right? I have something to tell you...”
“Wait! This ring magic structure is a bit tricky. Let me take one last look...”
Ophelia clenched her fists.
Another half hour passed.
“You must be done now, right? I...”
“Just a bit more! Just a bit more! The old headmaster’s notes here are incredibly insightful!”
Ophelia’s face darkened completely.
But she still held back from lashing out.
She didn’t want to be the kind of woman who disrupted a man’s work, so she forced herself to endure and continued to sit with him.
Another half hour later...
Ophelia’s anger had almost dissipated. She stared at Luo Wei in exasperation. “How much longer are you going to study? You’re so slow! I’ve almost memorized this entire spell by now!”
Luo Wei smiled helplessly, “I can’t help it. Beginners are like this. Let me take my time. Just stay quiet, okay?”
But this time, Ophelia wasn’t going to let him off so easily. She suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door.
“Hey! My magic! I haven’t finished studying yet! What are you doing?!”
“No more studying today!” Ophelia glared at him fiercely. “Come with me!”
“Where are we going...” Luo Wei felt his stalling tactics had completely failed.
“Where else?” Ophelia flashed an evil smile. “You spent three days with Tilis without returning, and now you don’t even greet me or pay me any attention! You’re done for today, Luo Wei! I’m going to punish you! Punish you severely!!”
With a loud *bang*, Luo Wei’s vision went dark as Ophelia dragged him into a secluded... little black room.
Then, the lights came on.
A slender, long leg clad in black stockings was already right in front of Luo Wei’s face.
“Take them off!”
She stood tall, looking down at him with an expressionless face.

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!

ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!