Chapter 997: Gazing Into the Abyss

In the Demon Kingdom, Venus City, the Lord’s Mansion, a lavish afternoon tea gathering was underway.

Two noblewomen, each about three to four meters tall and with mature, voluptuous figures, sipped tea and chatted leisurely.

“Little Sister Bachi, we’ve finally managed to meet in person—why not stay a few more days? Once you leave, I’ll have no one left to talk to.”

The noblewoman on the left, radiant and alluring, spoke with evident reluctance.

“Sister Evelyn, I truly appreciate your hospitality these past days, but something major is brewing in Nihon Island—I must return to handle it. I simply cannot remain away any longer; please understand. Once I’ve settled matters, I’ll come visit again.”

The noblewoman on the right, wearing a white dress and a round sun hat, smiled with noble elegance.

“Oh? Nihon Island? Has the Young Mistress made another move? Lately, the Aphrodite family has been acting strangely too—seems they’re preparing for something. Do you know anything, Sister?”

The Lady of the Mansion asked with keen curiosity.

Though she was over a thousand years old and already a mother, Evelyn now looked like a girl of ten or eleven—anyone gazing into her curious green eyes, no matter how hardened, would involuntarily soften.

One could only say: no wonder she was a Succubus Witch—her seduction art had become flawless, seamlessly woven into her daily life. To be near her required constant vigilance; a moment’s lapse, and you’d be ensnared.

Unfortunately, the Lady across from her was no ordinary person.

Bachi cast a glance at this “curious” old friend. They’d known each other for over a century—she knew full well this old woman was playing her usual games, trying to extract secrets from her.

Ah, before we knew it, Dorothy has become such a formidable figure—every word and action of hers now draws scrutiny and analysis from many.

Bachi thought of her unofficial niece and current sovereign, feeling a quiet pang.

On the surface, she offered a sincere, apologetic expression.

“Sister, I truly don’t know. The Young Mistress was celebrating her birthday in the Dragon King’s Palace these past two days—how could she be making any major moves?”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, truly.”

At the tea party, the two ladies chatted merrily on the surface, yet each harbored a thousand hidden motives.

The young witch accompanying them grew visibly impatient.

“Mother, Aunt Bachi, when will you take me to report to the Tribunal? I’m curious about it.”

Cassandra asked.

She had only recently learned that her mother and the mysterious Aunt Bachi were both Tribunal Judges, colleagues of the Young Mistress, the Jester Grand Judge.

Moreover, her mother seemed intent on enrolling her in the Tribunal—and the young werewolf witch found herself eagerly anticipating it.

After all, it was the Tribunal.

Though the Tribunal was infamous, its dread so great it could silence crying children at night, youth naturally rebelled, drawn to its mysterious darkness, finding it thrilling.

Cassandra was no exception—just imagining herself wearing a dazzling mask and striding forth in the sleek black Judge’s battle robe filled her with quiet excitement.

As a fashion model, she couldn’t resist the allure of such attire—her past photoshoots in “cool” themed outfits paled in comparison to the real Tribunal uniform.

Unfortunately, her mother and Aunt Bachi had spent the past two days playing mind games with each other, showing no real intention to bring her in—and Cassandra was growing frantic.

Though she was a hybrid of werewolf witch and succubus witch, she clearly hadn’t inherited her father’s side’s cunning—instead, she’d inherited her werewolf mother’s straightforwardness and boldness, and she was utterly fed up with these two fake sisters.

Can’t you two just stop circling each other? Just ask directly! Stop all this roundabout nonsense—take me in already!

Hearing the young girl’s question, the Lady of the Mansion and Aunt Bachi both froze, expressions twisting oddly.

The Tribunal’s recruitment relied primarily on legacy—neither Evelyn nor Bachi had a designated heir, and either could recommend Cassandra as a Judge.

But

Hmm, for the child’s sake, it was better to find another recommender. Their reputations were poor—if Cassandra joined as their legacy-bearer, her future would be bleak.

The Grand Judges Wanton and Deceit exchanged a glance, both thinking the same.

As they pondered how to explain this difficulty to the girl, their expressions suddenly turned serious, and both reached into their pockets simultaneously.

Trouble—the Tribunal Warrant has stirred. Has someone issued a summons?

Each quietly checked the message on their Tribunal Warrant, and their faces grew grim.

The sender was Black Constable, the Grand Chief Judge.

“Cassandra, your chance has come. Listen carefully—go find your Fourth Aunt. She’ll take you in.”

Evelyn rose to her feet and spoke to her daughter.

Then, both she and Bachi unleashed their magical energy—moments later, their casual attire vanished, replaced by the cold, sleek battle robes of Grand Judges.

“Also, little Cassandra, remember to call me Sister from now on. If you call me Aunt again, I’ll truly be angry.”

As Bachi waved her hand, summoning a rift, she spoke to the bewildered werewolf witch.

Then, both vanished from sight.

Cassandra: “.”

Though she’d been thrilled by her mother and aunt’s transformation, right now she was more bewildered than excited.

“Find my Fourth Aunt? Wait—does that mean she’s…?”

The young werewolf witch’s eyes widened in shock.

They always said Judges were everywhere—she’d thought it exaggerated, but now she truly believed it. Apparently, she’d been surrounded by them all along—and had never noticed a single one.

But this was even cooler than she’d imagined.

Without hesitation, Cassandra bent her knees slightly, then dashed forward without a care for dignity, sprinting straight toward the training camp.

Her Fourth Aunt, the workout fanatic, would surely still be training.

On the other side, Hati, who had been warming up in the ten-thousandfold gravity chamber, raised an eyebrow. She released the dumbbell forged from several mountains, then stood.

She wore only loose athletic wear, slightly damp with sweat. Drops rolled down her face, dripped onto her chest, climbed laboriously upward, then plunged over the rugged terrain of her eight-pack abdomen.

One could only say: no wonder she came from the Night City’s modeling wholesale family—the werewolf witch’s physique could be described in one word: perfect.

Hati wiped her sweat with a towel, drank water, then walked to a nearby rack and pulled a trembling Tribunal Warrant from her robe’s pocket.

“Black Constable, Grand Chief Judge?”

At just one glance at the message, the previously calm werewolf witch’s expression turned serious.

She snapped her fingers—immediately, a torrent of water cascaded from above, drenching her clean. Then, like a wolf, she shook her body, flinging off every droplet, leaving herself refreshed. Instantly, the Grand Judge’s battle robe enveloped her, and she prepared to leave.

But

“Fourth Aunt, wait! Mother told me to find you—she said you’ll take me to report to the Tribunal.”

Her niece’s voice came from outside the door.

Hati: “.”

The werewolf Grand Judge hesitated, then finally opened the door.

She’d long known her sister-in-law Evelyn was a colleague—she’d known Evelyn even before her elder sister had. Back then, when her elder sister had pursued Evelyn, Hati had tried to convince her to give up—after all, this succubus witch was famously beautiful and dangerous; her simple-minded elder sister stood no chance.

Unfortunately, her advice had been useless. Worse, she hadn’t expected her simple-minded sister to actually succeed.

Well, perhaps “success” wasn’t the right word—they’d never married, and it was her elder sister who bore the child. Perhaps her elder sister was merely one of many playthings among Evelyn’s many conquests.

Yet her elder sister was content—after all, Evelyn had roamed countless gardens for years, yet only ever bore offspring with her. She believed herself to be special.

Hati, for her part, found it utterly unbearable to watch.

Sigh. How could her elder sister, a tribe chief and city lord, be so humble in love?

But then she thought of herself, and sighed again.

Never mind—Fourth Sister wouldn’t mock the eldest. Werewolves simply weren’t suited for love.

Still, though Hati had always disliked her sister-in-law Evelyn, she genuinely liked her niece Cassandra.

“Evelyn sent you?”

She asked, watching her niece, breathless but glowing with excitement.

“Yes! Mother and Aunt Bachi just got a mission and left for the Tribunal already—they told me to find you, that you’d take me in.”

Cassandra, having sprinted here at full speed, tore off her shredded dress as she answered.

Hati fell silent, then reached into her pocket and tossed a standard Judge’s battle robe to her niece, who stood half-naked.

“Put it on. Then follow me.”

She instantly understood Evelyn and Bachi’s intentions.

Tch. Like attracts like—those two were two of the Tribunal’s Four Evils. Cassandra wouldn’t fit with them at all. And she herself just happened to have an heir slot open.

Sigh. That slot was meant for her daughter Alice—but Alice had already inherited Lilith’s legacy. She didn’t need it.

Thinking of her daughter, the werewolf witch’s face softened slightly with melancholy.

“Yes, Fourth Aunt.”

Cassandra eagerly snatched the robe she’d long dreamed of, slipped it on in seconds, then pulled out a black wolf mask and put it on.

She’d prepared it the moment she learned her mother was a Tribunal Judge.

“Hehe, New Judge Wolf Fang reporting.”

Dressed in her new gear, the model bowed mockingly to her Fourth Aunt.

Hati: “.”

“You’d better change your mask. Your Tribunal identity must be separate from your real one.”

She said, then donned her own Blood Wolf Mask.

Grand Judge Red appeared.

“Uh…”

Cassandra stared blankly at her Fourth Aunt’s Blood Wolf Mask.

Fourth Aunt, you’re being hypocritical.

“Fourth Aunt, this is called ‘darkness under the lamp’—everyone else is disguised, so if I’m not, that’s a disguise too.”

She argued.

In truth, she hoped her identity would be exposed—how else would the world know that Cassandra was a Tribunal Judge, if her true self remained hidden beneath this cool battle robe?

She wasn’t afraid of exposure anyway; as the young mistress of Night City, no one would dare trouble her even if her identity were revealed.

Besides, the young mistress’s identity was already exposed anyway.

Hati saw through her niece’s excuses at a glance and shook her head slightly.

Young people.

She knew her niece had always been proud—though she indeed had reason to be. Her talent was no less than Hati’s own, and given time, she would surely become the new pillar of the Werewolf Witch clan.

Night City, though sizable, was ultimately an artistic city with severe specialization; it produced many artistic geniuses, but true magical geniuses in the conventional sense were rare.

Cassandra had been confined to Night City too long, her vision narrowed—like a frog at the bottom of a well. Sending her to the Tribunal would do her good: let her see the world, meet true peer prodigies, and then she could grow properly.

“Come, follow me. We’ll meet a great figure first. Observe proper conduct—don’t act recklessly, or even I can’t protect you.”

Hati wasted no more time. She pressed the Tribunal Warrant against the training room’s door, opened her Concept Gate, and gave this final instruction to her still-excited niece.

“Relax, Sis Four—what’s your codename again?”

Hati was speechless.

“Red. From now on, call me Red Lord.”

Saying this, she stepped through the door.

“Yes, Red Lord. Who are we meeting next? Someone stronger than you?”

Cassandra hurried to follow, but now she was even more curious.

After all, Sis Four was already the clan’s top expert—in her eyes, Sis Four was invincible except beneath the Sage.

So someone who commanded such respect from Sis Four…

Wow, could it be a Sage?

At this thought, the usually bold Werewolf girl felt a sudden surge of tension.

But her nervousness didn’t last long—once they crossed the threshold, the mysterious Tribunal unfolded before her eyes: figures wearing masks and black battle robes filled the space, fascinating to behold.

Cassandra wasn’t a troublemaking brat, so she remembered Sis Four’s warning. She merely glanced curiously around, didn’t run off, and stayed obediently by her side.

Soon, she noticed Sis Four walking deeper into isolation, finally arriving at a quiet yet profoundly imposing compound.

Hell.

She saw those two characters inscribed above the compound’s gate.

Oh.

Sis Four pushed open the door ahead. Cassandra followed, and quickly spotted her mother among the crowd packed inside the Hell Faction’s compound.

Yet, compared to her mother, another figure radiated far greater presence.

It was a figure facing away from everyone.

The figure wasn’t particularly tall—compared to Cassandra’s three-meter height, she was petite, barely around one point seven five meters.

Yet even the combined presence of all the Tribunal judges couldn’t rival this witch’s aura.

Like a supporting character beside the protagonist of a tale.

This witch was the absolute protagonist—as if a spotlight shone upon her, ensuring she dominated center stage the moment she entered anyone’s view.

This is definitely a top-tier big shot.

The Werewolf young mistress thought to herself.

Cassandra could only see her back—the ornate, majestic cloak behind her bore the words “Tribunal” fluttering in the air.

“Everyone has arrived. Then let’s begin. For our first meeting, I am Hei Wuchang. Welcome to the Hell Faction.”

As the two entered, a clear, melodious voice rang out—the “protagonist” facing away finally spoke.

Hei Wuchang, the Grand Inquisitor, slowly turned around. Beneath her ordinary black mask, a pair of peculiar cross-shaped pupils gazed upon the crowd.

In that instant, every eye fixed solely on those expanding eyes.

Those pitch-black irises became boundless darkness, instantly swallowing everyone—then an unknown unease, turning to terror, enveloped every heart.

All could clearly sense that in this darkness, an unspeakable dread prowled all around.

You are staring into the abyss—and the abyss is staring back.

What an terrifying power.

The crowd stood stunned.

Oh no, Xi Bao really pulled off the act.

(End of Chapter)