Every time Iris clashed against Greenwood Swordmaster, she noticed that the entire floor would ripple; it was barely noticeable that her hypersensitive perception almost missed it. If not for the first time she accidentally detected it, she wouldn't know of its existence. Her attacking speed slowed down as she redirected her focus, easing the pressure on Greenwood.

She knew herself. She could never shatter space and distort reality with just her power; not even the Condensation Phase Monster Girls could do it. Something strange must have happened to the Puppeteer Legacy Ground that it could not maintain the stability of its inner worlds.

Iris inevitably thought about the moment she crushed the everchanging orb inside the sacred graveyard. She must have caused great troubles to the Overseer. A sense of satisfaction emerged in her heart as she unknowingly took revenge.

While Iris was distracted, Greenwood Swordmaster unleashed a gigantic slash and pushed all Iris's weapons away. He retreated to a safe distance and stopped moving, narrowing his eyes, staring at Iris.

"Why did you stop?" Greenwood said. "Are you looking down on me? I might not be able to overpower you, but if you are arrogant, you will face your end here."

Iris relaxed her tens of arms and retracted them into her back before exhaling, getting rid of the fatigue of commanding new body parts. She strengthened her back and smiled, shaking her head.

"Why would I look down on you? You're the strongest being I've ever fought. Without my Myriad Arm Form, I would have no confidence in defeating you."

Though her myriad arms could overwhelm Greenwood Swordmaster, it was not without prices.

She had to overwork herself to maintain her reaction speed, making her soul and mind exceptionally more vulnerable to magic and exotic means than before. If she couldn't finish her battle before long, she would exhaust herself and collapse, either into a deep sleep or a dreamy state, where her instinct took over and did whatever her emotions told her.

So be it if she fell asleep, but if her lust took over and made her do unspeakable things with the other Monster Girls, even if they didn't mind, she would still cry herself to sleep. She feared that she would wake up in an unfamiliar bed with an unfamiliar Monster Girl cuddling her. Simply a nightmare!

"Then why are you distracted during our battle?" Greenwood said. "Your face has turned red, but it was not bloodlust; it was something else. What are you thinking?"

Serinda and Artium blinked, then chuckled to themselves. Their voices weren't loud, but Iris's sensitive ears twitched, heating up until she became pink. She glared at them but failed to find the energy to scold them.

"It's nothing." She brushed herself, breathing in and out, trying to calm down. Her colour gradually returned to its natural blue. "I have a question. I hope you can answer it truthfully. It's been occupying my mind since a while ago; I can't focus without knowing the answer."

Greenwood stabbed his sword into the ground, relaxing his trembling arms. Fighting against tens of weapons forced him to the limit. If not for Iris's suddenly stopping, he would have to use his desperate method.

"Lady Iris, I'm willing to clarify your confusion, but my knowledge is limited only to the past long gone. Many things may have changed or disappeared inside the flow of history," Greenwood said.

"My question only concerns the Puppeteer Legacy Ground and won't extend beyond it." Iris didn't dare to mention even the name of Gulia and Lilith, let alone asking about their history. The less she talked about them, the better. "I can sense the ripples of space when our strikes clash. What happened to the Legacy Ground? Why is it so unstable?"

"Lady Iris, you've done it yourself." Greenwood laughed. "You've shattered the sole energy source of the Legacy Ground. Without it, the Legacy Ground can’t maintain its existence any longer. Each floor will gradually break down, connecting to the outside world. If not for the emergency power injected by the Overseer, this floor would have already crumbled."

Iris nodded, but anxiety still lingered in her heart.

"What would happen if we failed to leave before the floor disintegrated?"

"The power of assimilation will mend the rifts in reality, but none will survive its all-encompassing pressure. Maybe you might, but all else will fall."

"What about you and the other citizens of the Puppeteer Legacy Ground?"

Greenwood Swordmaster raised his head and stared at the sky, absorbing the peaceful weather that he would never see again. The clouds quietly flowed across the horizon as sunlight shone onto his body, warming his tired body. He remained motionless for a minute before turning his gaze to Iris.

"We, remnants of the lost age, can never leave this haven. Our era has passed, left behind by the rest. We shall accompany our ruler in our afterlife, the sombre relief." Greenwood sighed. "Lady Iris, you are our last hope, our last chance towards salvation."

"What do you mean?"

"You will understand it soon. It's a pity that I can't go against the imperial decree. A pity."

Greenwood grabbed his sword and pulled it out of the ground. He exhaled, twisted his legs, and pushed forwards, flying towards Iris. Though he felt like Iris would be a good listener to his story, he had a mission to complete, as decreed by the imperial family.

Iris condensed multiple arms from her back and sighed, moving forwards, fearlessly facing the terrifying sword of nature. Her tens of weapons moved in unison, parrying, slashing, stabbing, and hitting Greenwood Swordmaster in an unceasing rain of assault. She had gotten used to her new form, becoming more proficient the longer she practised it.

Against her unyielding advance, Greenwood had to halt his sprint and defend himself. Multiple shallow cuts appeared on his body as he fought hard, slowly retreating before exploding with deadly blows. Despite how powerful his strikes were, he only had two arms and one sword—not enough to go against tens of weapons and arms.

With his movement suppressed and his stamina progressively exhausted, he knew his death was inevitable. He had to risk it with his trump card. His body had withered through time for too long, and one activation would extinguish his remaining vitality.

"Lady Iris, if you could defend against this, it will be my defeat." Greenwood clenched the green sword until his entire body trembled. "This sword is called Flourishing Nature Sword. His Majesty has bestowed it onto me after I returned from my last expedition. It's always accompanied me ever since. Now, its power shall grace this world for one last time."

As Greenwood's voice fell, green flame burst out of Flourishing Nature Sword and engulfed Greenwood. Scents of nature, of flowers, of leaves, and of woods flooded the surrounding. There was no heat nor sound, the only immense pressure of the concentrated power. Iris shivered when she sensed the enormous power inside Greenwood; it was like a vast ocean, boundless, incomprehensible.

Before it, number meant nothing. It had broken through the limit of the Transformation Phase, reaching the mystical realm of Condensation Phase. Iris's Myriad Arm Form would crumble like papers against water. She had to fight an ocean with another ocean, not lines of rivers.

"Every era has its place; everyone is special in some kinds of ways," Iris mumbled. "I'm not the only one who has performed miracles in this world, not the first, not the last. I may be too weak to move the world now, but I'm not alone, never alone."

Iris smiled and let go of her weapons. Her myriad arms splattered into slime and merged with her, returning her silhouette into the usual delicate maiden. Her blue membrane condensed into soft, bouncy, fleshy skin as her appearance shifted to resemble her previous self, but with a hint of divine air, of the Lord's heavenly touch.

Her slime hair branched into countless silky threads, turning thin and light, fluttering with the slow breezes. They floated around her, caressing her face and neck and waist, giving her lonely contour a blue shade. Her white, almost icy, face expressed coldness yet warmth, her mouth revealing a bleak smile, her deep blue irises flashing with longing.

She drew her hands to chest, pressing against her breasts, and bent her head down. Her legs slowly arched forwards as she fell to her knees, her forehead touching her hands, which formed into a prayer gesture. Her hair covered her shoulders and back, spreading outwards like countless strings which bound everything together.

As she closed her eyes, her heart beat faster and louder. The green flame expanded until it rose towards the sky, brightening the overcast weather, dwarfing the sunlight. She knew the powerful enemy was in front of her, but she didn't care about that. There existed only one thought in her heart: Pray.

At that moment, she wasn't Iris; she wasn't Elizabeth; she was Herrifer, Elizabeth's younger sister, the one sister Elizabeth loved the most. She was the darling of the Lord, the child of providence, the one who succeeded where her big sister failed.

"Lord, I don't know what you're using me for," Iris said, "but if you're going to use me, be prepared to be used by me. The little Faith inside me, it was yours, but now it's mine."

Inside Iris's soul, the glimmer of Faith shone as Iris, now Herrifer, prayed to herself. She immersed her heart in Herrifer's manner and emotions, imitating that profound, longing expression she witnessed in the Dreamscape. That was the first time Iris saw how cute Herrifer could be, how sad she could look.

"Heria, your big sister is still alive. She's somewhere far away, wishing to see you, hoping for you to succeed," Iris murmured. "Please don't worry too much. She is doing well. She's got a wonderful family, wonderful sisters, a wonderful new life, but she won't forget about you and will be missing you for the time to come."

The silver of Faith grew brighter and brighter inside Iris's soul, shining like the sun in the clear sky. It emerged inside Iris's chest, warming her body, softening her expression. She faintly smiled and raised her head, looking at Greenwood Swordmaster, who also stared at Iris, waiting for her to finish her preparation.

"Lady Iris, you're praying to a Deity? No, this feeling is different," Greenwood said. "Your power is the antithesis of Divinity; no Deities in this world would accept you, but it is different for the beings from the void. Are you calling for the Foreign Existences behind you?"

"No. I'm not praying to the Foreign Existences. They aren't interested in Divinity and Faith, and I lack the ability to devote my soul to them."

"Then, who are you calling to? The void is too vast and chaotic for anything outside to receive your message, let alone locating you within the boundless nothingness."

"I'm calling myself." Iris chuckled, then ignored Greenwood. "Heria, your big sister will be checking on your progression now. If the Lord didn't give you what you deserved, I'll settle it myself."

Iris stood up and drew her arms outwards, stretching them to her sides. Her angelic appearance glowed in golden, divine light as she gradually floated from the ground, hovering with her bare feet slightly out of touch with the earth. The pebbles and dust rose around her, circling her figure like a gentle curtain which concealed her beauty.

Behind her, pairs of white wings merged from her back, spreading outwards, arching above her, shielding her from sunlight. The burning Faith inside her chest seeped out of her skin and rested in front of her. She raised her right hand and placed it below the divine flame, observing its feature.

The Faith flickered and displayed countless images of vivid details, showing Herrifer's memory and emotions, telling Iris what happened after she passed died. The confusion, the pain, the hatred, the despair, the feverish dream, the hope, the determination, the devotion, and the affection, everything which Herrifer had ever felt softly burnt inside Faith, the distillation of belief.

"Heria, you've grown up into a beautiful Saintess," Iris whispered. "My death is not in vain after all. It's all worth it."