Chapter 985: The Vindicator and the Special Archery Technique

In fact, for all these years, Euphelia had one question: why was the one whose bloodline best matched hers none other than Adam, a mere mortal? Back then, though she’d believed the fortune-teller’s advice and found the most handsome man on her territory, when she discovered he was nothing but a weak mortal, she immediately doubted the fortune-teller’s prophecy.

After all, she sought a successor with exceptional talent; bearing a child with a mortal could only produce a half-demoness, and the innate disparity between a half-demoness and a pure-blooded demoness was well known—could such a child truly be considered exceptionally gifted?

She truly didn’t believe it.

Normally, given her temperament, she should have outright abandoned that so-called “prophecy”—after all, she’d never been the type to blindly trust others’ judgments.

But that day, she ultimately decided to give the fortune-teller one chance, struck a deal with Adam, borrowed his seed, and used secret methods to conceive Dorothy.

Of course, judging from the present outcome, this was unquestionably the right decision—the fortune-teller’s prophecy had been remarkably accurate; her bloodline and Adam’s were perfectly compatible, and Dorothy was far more outstanding than she’d ever imagined.

Hmm, no surprise—the Queen’s prophecy was always this precise.

Tsk, but why didn’t I recognize that fortune-teller as the Queen back then?

Something just feels off.

Forget it. Overthinking now is pointless—all these judgments are hindsight, reverse-engineered from results.

What truly deserves thought is why fate deemed only her and Adam’s bloodlines could produce the most outstanding child.

What special quality did Adam, this weak mortal, possess?

Euphelia was genuinely curious about this.

But now, she was furious with Adam—the bastard who stole her daughter—and every time she saw him, she wanted to punch him. There was no room left in her heart to investigate his secrets.

Besides, excessive curiosity about a person is dangerous—it easily leads to self-destruction.

Euphelia herself didn’t fully understand this principle, but she’d seen it played out in books and magical theater, so she always remained wary of such emotions and eradicated them the moment she noticed them.

Ha. Petty, boring emotions only hindered her ambitions. She had far too many tasks ahead for the revival of the Jemundae clan to waste time satisfying idle curiosity.

But now, it seemed she’d finally found the answer.

“So Adam is a Vindicator’s heir? No wonder he was so special.”

Euphelia suddenly understood.

As the Dragon Queen, her knowledge of the Vindicator far surpassed that of mere little demonesses; as Grand Inquisitor of the Tribunal, she knew secrets beyond ordinary reach.

According to her, the Vindicator’s lineage was ancient—even older than the demoness race. Long before demonesses appeared, legends of the Vindicator had already circulated in the Western Cosmos.

Where the first Vindicator came from was now an unsolvable mystery. But according to the histories of the three ancient golden races—angels, demons, and dragons—they had all clashed with the Vindicator long ago.

After all, the classic Vindicator archetypes included the God-Desecrator, the Demon-Hunter, the Dragon-Slayer, and more.

The Three Great Calamities had once tried to exterminate these annoying Vindicator once and for all, but after trying, they despairingly realized the Vindicator were like weeds in a field—kill one batch, and another sprouted soon after. Even when they unleashed apocalyptic magic, new Vindicator still appeared in other worlds shortly afterward.

Their propagation was stronger than any plague. Even the Three Great Calamities couldn’t figure out how their lineage was passed down.

Yet now, the Calamities had gained some understanding of the Vindicator—understanding that only deepened their despair.

They discovered the Vindicator’s calling seemed rooted in humanity’s bloodline. As long as humanity existed, the Vindicator would never vanish; some chosen ones would always, under specific conditions, awaken the Vindicator’s power without a teacher.

To eradicate the Vindicator, you must first eradicate humanity.

But humanity, in the Western Cosmos, was as ubiquitous as cockroaches. Even ignoring already-explored worlds, you’d still find native humans in every newly opened realm.

Eradicating humanity from one world was simple. Eradicating humanity across the entire Western Cosmos? That was fantasy—even the Calamity races couldn’t accomplish it.

Not to mention the demonesses would never allow it. After all, they were humanity’s evolved form, and since demoness realms occasionally transformed human fetuses into Primordial Demonesses, humanity remained a vital population source. Emotionally and Liyi -wise, demonesses would never permit humanity’s extinction.

Yet precisely because demonesses cared for humanity, their conflict with the Vindicator was never severe; their relationship was even quite good. Many demonesses had once been Vindicator companions, and young demonesses often admired and idolized the Vindicator—just like the little demonesses’ reaction earlier.

Some demoness scholars even believed demonesses and Vindicator were kin races, since both were humanity’s evolved forms: demonesses were more like physical evolutions, while Vindicator seemed to be spiritual evolutions.

After all, the Vindicator’s greatest strength was their fearless, unyielding spirit.

But how long this friendly atmosphere would last was uncertain. Most original demonesses had been transformed from humans and could still coexist peacefully with them—but their children? Their grandchildren? Not necessarily.

As the elder demonesses gradually withdrew, the power gap between demonesses and humanity widened, and many younger demonesses increasingly refused to acknowledge humanity as their “poor relative.” Modern demonesses’ personalities had grown increasingly cruel, gradually shifting toward true Calamity traits.

According to what Euphelia knew, in recent Demon King eras, conflicts between demonesses and Vindicator had been increasing year by year.

From this, it seemed the rift between demonesses and Vindicator was inevitable.

As a demoness, the Dragon Queen naturally sided with her own kind. In her view, the Vindicator were a dire threat.

As Grand Inquisitor, she’d always held a special regard for the Vindicator. She feared that if the two races ever turned hostile, these Vindicator could become the source of disaster—or even the extinction—of the demoness race.

Currently, the so-called Vindicator were still insignificant. Though some legendary Vindicator could rival golden races, such powerful figures appeared only once every few centuries. And though Vindicator were strong, their lifespan remained the mortal span of a hundred years—dooming them to remain insignificant.

But Euphelia, having fought countless battles and earned her many victories, never underestimated any enemy.

To the angels, hadn’t demonesses once seemed insignificant too? And what became of the angels? No need to elaborate.

The Dragon Queen had a persistent feeling: if the demonesses’ cruel pleasures ultimately ended in cruelty, the sword-wielder who brought them down wouldn’t be anyone else—it would be these Vindicator.

Didn’t demonesses themselves once embody the Vindicator?

The Vindicator who slew dragons became new dragons—and were inevitably defeated by new Vindicator.

Fate has always been fair.

But Euphelia hadn’t expected the Vindicator to be right beside her—Adam was a Vindicator, and now her daughter Dorothy seemed to have inherited the Vindicator’s legacy.

This was awkward.

Adam himself? She didn’t care. But Dorothy? She cared deeply.

This child was a demoness with a Vindicator’s heart—her future would be painfully complicated.

Just thinking of it made the Dragon Queen’s head ache.

“Sigh, I should’ve realized sooner. This child told me back then about equality, freedom, bonds—nonsense I didn’t understand. Those are exactly the things Vindicator always say. Dammit, Adam, what the hell did you teach my daughter?”

Euphelia fumed inwardly, then glanced at her adopted daughter and disciple, Sophilia, and sighed again.

What sin had she committed? How could both her children be such prodigies—and so alike?

Sophilia, bound by her Radiant Lord’s bloodline, was stuck between angel and demoness—she’d barely resolved that. Now her daughter faced the same predicament.

Sophilia’s problem was easy to fix: a Divine Prince’s title was enough to grant her freedom.

But Dorothy—

The growing rift between demonesses and Vindicator was nearly irreconcilable.

Vindicator were all stubborn fools; they’d never compromise.

And who, pray, could rally all demonesses to abandon their arrogance and become good people?

Euphelia knew she couldn’t do it—even with the Sage’s power. Force wasn’t omnipotent; not every problem could be solved with fists.

In changing customs and hearts, the pen might be mightier than the fist; prestige more effective than fear.

And as for Dorothy—

The Dragon Queen recalled her daughter’s alias, the Forest Witch. Hmm—if that Quanminouxiang were to take the stage—

“Sigh.”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

The Forest Witch had enough popularity and influence, but popularity alone couldn’t change the world. She lacked execution.

And execution? That brought her back to force.

Fine. Force couldn’t solve everything—but without force, you couldn’t solve anything at all.

After circling back, the only solution left that might make all demonesses follow your will was—

Become the new Demon Queen.

Only the Demon Queen possessed the authority and power to reverse the demoness race’s Fengqi .

But even Euphelia, a fiercely ambitious woman, had only ever aimed to revive her family’s legacy. Her expectations for her daughter were simple: become an excellent heir.

Now you wanted Dorothy to become the Demon Queen?

Even the Dragon Queen thought that was excessive. Who sets such an unrealistic goal for their child?

But—

Euphelia’s gaze shifted slightly upward, toward that Dianxia , and her eyes lit up.

Ah, speaking of the Demon Queen—wasn’t there already a future Queen right here?

Though that future’s arrival seemed distant, at least she carried destiny itself.

But that Dianxia ’s madness—

Sigh.

Euphelia sighed again.

Well, in Dorothy’s words: I thought the convergence of two prodigies was miracle enough—turns out there’s a third, a young dragon.

All problem children.

No hope. Just wait. Let fate decide.

The Dragon Queen finally gave up thinking.

Meanwhile—

The little demonesses had no idea what troubles their elders faced—they were joyfully hunting.

“Stop roaring, keep it quiet—you scared off my prey.”

The Fairy King pointed at the Hundred-Beast Slayer in her hand and warned.

The poor, pitiful great bow reluctantly suppressed its terrifying aura, becoming plain and unassuming.

Too bad—it was useless.

The earlier commotion had already frightened off all nearby dragon beasts.

Ambush was impossible now. They changed plans: from ambush to pursuit.

“Time to speed up.”

The Fairy King said this to her sisters, then reached out, lifted Audrey beside her, placed the fluffy little junior on the front of her Light-Seeker broom, and wrapped her arms around the little fox, gripping the broom handle tightly.

“Audrey, be my eyes and nose. Let’s chase.”

The next instant, “Demon Gate” activated—the broom’s jet-like tail blasted forth a torrent of magical energy, then transformed into pure light.

"Wuhu, this is the feeling—I really enjoyed that."

Only the Yaojingwang ’s joyful laughter remained behind.

"Wait for me, sister."

As a biker girl, Alice immediately full-throttle, becoming a streak of red light.

Sophie, Mia, and Madeline, left behind, exchanged helpless glances and each turned into a streak of light to follow.

But it turned out the Photons’ high price wasn’t arbitrary—this thing was indeed fast.

By the time the sisters finally caught up to the Zhaimonv , they found Dorothy seemed to be performing some kind of performance art.

She stood perfectly upright, her foot planted on the string of the Hundred-Head Slayer, her hands straining to pull open the bow’s limbs.

She appeared ready to shoot herself like an arrow.

Everyone: "???"

Wait, is this how you’re supposed to use this bow? Is this what you meant by “cannon magic”?

Even Long Ma and Mavis, two seasoned adults, were momentarily stunned by the sight.

But before they could ask, the bowstring released.

Dorothy was shot.

(End of Chapter)