The Hero Who Became a Monster Girl Will Never Fall to Evil

“You really have a twisted sense of fun.”

Vieya paused, then stretched out her hand. “Give me the method to save my student.”

“So quick to decide?”

Elizabeth looked almost regretful. She spread her hands.

“This place is about to disappear. All traces of life here, this room — everything will vanish. Even the lingering scents will cease to exist. Yet you, the Holy Swordmaster, still cling to that dimwitted failure of a student. She’ll only drag you down... she’s nowhere near as good as I am, don’t you think?”

“Give it.”

“Hmph. I hope you don’t regret it. I’ll give you one more chance to choose—”

“Give it.”

“Your tone is as hateful as the first Swordmaster’s, but your resolve falls far short.” Elizabeth sneered.

Vieya, however, took the blood bead without another word and leapt straight back into the exit. Her figure vanished.

...

The residential district had become a chaotic battlefield of vampires and humans, the stench of smoke and blood rising to the heavens.

The three elders straightened their backs and rushed to the front line, engaging the bloodkin.

By rights, humanity’s forces should have been overwhelmingly dominant, crushing the vampires. Yet the fortress floating overhead kept spewing out new bloodkin like dumplings in boiling water.

“This can’t go on. Perhaps Her Holiness was right — we have to destroy the source first, even if it means risking the entire southern sector of Fengxiang Town, even if the fortress’s explosion leaves nothing but ruins.”

“But that fortress is surrounded by a shield. We can’t yet confirm its energy level.”

Unlike the blazing frontline—

Lilian had returned to the convent. The convent stood in the Core District, far from the residential quarter, with a commercial zone between them. Even so, she could still feel the ground trembling now and then, and the southern sky radiating a bone-chilling dread.

Today the convent was quiet. No adults came; the nuns knelt before the cathedral’s statue and prayed.

The children left there by their parents also felt the oppressive air before a storm. Born to different stations and ages, they now huddled silently in the same small room, barely daring to breathe.

Among them was a brown-haired little girl in a frilly dress. Born to a great merchant family in the commercial district, she never bullied the other children. Instead, she was friendly, lively, always nosing into things and wandering about with cheerful curiosity.

Another, the most robust of the group, came from the southern residential district. His father was a butcher, his mother an embroiderer. They had paid to send him to the convent for fostering. But once here, he hadn’t been sad at all — he was overjoyed to finally be free from his parents’ discipline. Too spirited, he had become the leader of the children, often punished jointly by the nuns with feather dusters for fighting.

The remaining four — three were orphans left at the convent’s gate, and one more came from the commercial district: two boys, two girls.

Lilian went to each of them, handing out small bags of pastries. She smiled, patting their heads, and reminded them they could resist the strong but never bully the weak. When they met children less healthy than themselves, they must show patience.

“Lilian-sis, we don’t understand...”

“That’s fine. Just remember it.”

After leaving the children, Lilian went to the convent’s rear garden — a cemetery. In one corner stood a small keeper’s hut where an elderly man was sweeping.

When he saw her, he set the broom aside, lit the hut’s only candle, and invited her in.

Inside the simple, old cabin, the elder sat on a small stool and began asking Lilian one question after another.

Lilian answered softly, one by one.

This old man had once been her teacher, before she met the Chief Hero — the one who taught her ecclesiastic spells and sacred scripture.

Back then, she had been truly wicked: not only had she poured laxatives into his cup to avoid studying, she had also complained to her father, demanding the man be exiled # Nоvеlight # to die in some frozen, worm-ridden wasteland.

That was over ten years ago.

When his questions were done, the old man looked at her. “Do you remember what you asked your father and me before we sent you to the Hero Squad for training?”

Lilian smiled but said nothing.

The old man answered himself. “That year you asked us: ‘If I come back, will I finally become a real Saintess?’ We told you, once you understood what a true Saintess is, you would come back on your own.”

He suddenly laughed. “And what happened? You’d barely been with the Hero Squad a week before you threw a tantrum, saying you wanted to return, that you didn’t want to train or be a Saintess anymore. But His Holiness the Pope valued you so highly — not only because you’re his daughter, but because your talent surpasses every Saintess before you.”

“The Pope not only refused your pleas but even cut off all contact with you. Yet that Hero truly was a responsible man. He was paid to do a job, and he did it.”

Lilian smiled faintly. “I got scolded plenty. I couldn’t outargue him, couldn’t outfight him, so I just had to hold it in.”

The old man sighed and went on, “Your mother was the previous Saintess. You’ve seen her current state... that is the fate of Saintesses.”

“Every Saintess is a dancer walking a tightrope of hope, enduring endless trials. One misstep, and she falls into the abyss.”

“Lilian,” the old man fixed his eyes on her, voice cold, “are you truly going to keep walking this road to ruin? For a tiny town, no more than a few tens of thousands, you’d throw away the Divine Heart you’ve honed for over ten years and abandon all your holy grace? If it were an ordinary Saintess, fine — but you are Lilian, the Pope’s daughter, the sole Saintess of this and the next generation, the future Pope herself! You could truly change the world’s order!”

He trembled. “Even if a Demon King appears, so what? Others can defend Fengxiang Town. At worst, more people will die. You needn’t sacrifice anything, or make any vows!”

Lilian shook her head. “And that’s exactly why I don’t want to return to the Church. You’re my elders, wise and experienced — you always choose what you believe to be the optimal solution.”

Her voice hardened. “But those so-called optimal choices of yours — they may sound good, yet the reasoning behind them isn’t always right.”

Thousands of miles away, in the Royal Capital, the old man shuddered, his face frozen in disbelief.

Lilian slowly rose, murmuring as she turned to leave, “Teacher, you’re wrong this time.”

“In this world, who could possibly live a life with no regrets? This time, I don’t want to live under anyone’s protection... and I won’t run anymore.”

...

The track plunged rapidly downward.

“Don’t move for now. Wait here until I return,” Vieya said quickly, not looking back.

Helcat blinked, dumbfounded. She looked up, then down.

What’s gotten into her, meow?

When Vieya returned into the fortress again, she didn’t meet a single vampire — nor did she stop.

She had to be faster. Faster!

Walls of ornate stone shattered as the slime girl rammed through them, her hardened body and authority-enhanced force breaking even several-centimeter-thick doors of dark iron thorns.

Each impact rattled her whole body with pain.

She sprinted like a wild charge of gelatinous fury. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Bursting through corridor after corridor, she passed seven fortress levels in one breath. After dozens of collisions with walls and iron gates, her mind was spinning dizzily.

But she never paused, never rested.

Her trembling arms carried her to the final floor. Staring at the downward-sloping passage ahead, she kept running.

The metallic stench grew stronger. She clenched her teeth, forced herself onward, and reached the end.

The stench of blood was overwhelming. Vieya slowed, eyes fixed on the center of the blood pool — on Rania, weeping with tears streaming down her face.

Nearby, several bats projected the battlefield’s image.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry... It’s all my fault. All my fault... I killed so many people... I’m sorry...”