Chapter 30: Chapter 30: The Devil’s Whisper Chapter 30 – The Devil’s Whisper Elizabeth turned toward the voice, her expression flickering with something between confusion and suspicion. How had he approached without her noticing? Noah’s smile remained intact—relaxed, unreadable. "What are you doing here alone?" he asked, voice casual, curious. "I thought you were always glued to Elijah’s side." Elizabeth didn’t respond at first. Her gaze drifted back to the battlefield below. Carnage in motion. It was almost over. Her voice was soft, almost lost in the wind. "Some will come to challenge the Chosen One. And I’m not a fighter... so I stepped away. I didn’t want to distract him." Noah nodded slowly, stepping closer. "And what about you?" The Saintess said "Why isn’t the Princess glued to you?" Elizabeth turned back to him, a half-smile curling her lips. "I was surprised to see you two together, to be honest. Last I heard, the Emperor was breaking your engagement and giving his daughter to Elijah." She tilted her head, voice taunting. "So tell me—how did you manage to make her stay? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind being the woman of a god’s chosen." Noah chuckled. "Well, how could I possibly allow my childhood love to marry another? I mean—am I not also an SSS-rank holder?" Elizabeth laughed, but it wasn’t a kind one. "Yes, you are. But let’s be honest here, Noah. You’re no match for Elijah." Her voice dipped, turning almost sincere. "Still... thank you. That’s one girl less to worry about." Noah raised an eyebrow. "One less, huh? So even you know how many will flock to him?" "Aren’t you jealous?" he added. Elizabeth’s smile vanished. Her voice dropped to a firm, razor-sharp tone. "What do you want, Noah? Stop circling. Say what you mean." Noah’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes. "You’re the Saintess. He’s the messenger of your goddess. Isn’t that the perfect couple? I just want to see it happen." Elizabeth froze. "What?" "You heard me," Noah replied, voice light but laced with something darker. "I’ve been thinking about how it could all play out." Elizabeth stared at him, brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" Noah’s smile twitched—knowing. Dangerous. Elizabeth asked, "How?" Her expression sharpened, serious now. Noah smirked internally. Elizabeth Lightcross. One of the female leads. And without a doubt... the scariest of them all. Calm. Composed. Graceful. But that was the problem. That was what made her dangerous. A Yandere with control over her emotions—is there anything more terrifying? Even his mother, a certified Yandere in her own right, couldn’t manage that. Around him, her emotions always slipped. But Elizabeth? Elizabeth smiled while calculating how to kill you. She didn’t crack. She planned. But that’s not surprising, with a talent like hers, how could she possibly be normal? Still, it worked. She had always held back in the early parts of the story—always careful, always restrained. But Noah had no intention of waiting for her to bloom. He wanted to watch the garden burn. "Isn’t the question simple?" he said out loud. "Don’t tell me you never considered such an option before." Elizabeth looked at him, puzzled. "What option?" Noah smiled, soft and sickly sweet. "Of course—to kill the women who are close to him. What else?" Shudder. Elizabeth flinched—not from fear, but from the sickening sense of being seen. A part of her she buried, exposed by someone who shouldn’t know it existed. Noah leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Don’t give me that look. Others might not know, but I do. I know who you are, Saintess." He stepped even closer, just inches from her face. "I know how you think of every method to kill them—clean, quiet, precise. But you stop yourself. Every time. Because of him. Because of the fear." "Because if Elijah saw that side of you... he’d run." His voice slithered into her ears like poison. "Don’t hold back. Because if you do, you’ll lose him. You know Elijah, right? He’s lustful. He won’t stop collecting women." "So why—" "Shut up!!!" Elizabeth snapped, voice sharp and loud. But the chaos of the battlefield drowned her out, and with Noah’s invisible sound barrier in place, not a soul noticed. She stared at him, trembling with fury. "I don’t know what you’re trying to do," she said, voice tight, "but stop. Now." "I won’t do anything that could compromise Elijah’s happiness. Do you hear me?" Noah’s smile stayed. Calm. Creeping. "Even if it means sacrificing your own?" "Yes. Absolutely." No hesitation. Noah tilted his head. "Are you sure? With an SSS-rank, you’ll live a very, very long time. Are you ready to suffer in silence for eternity?" Elizabeth paused. Noah turned and walked away, his voice trailing like a shadow behind him. "Eternity in agony... That’s what you’ve chosen." He disappeared into the smoke and blood of the battlefield, his Trickster aura cloaking him from all eyes. "Why not use your eyes?" his voice echoed faintly. "Look into Elijah’s future. See it for yourself." "Eyes of Revelation, right? What a dreadful talent..." Gone. Elizabeth stood still, breath shallow. The echo of that conversation looped endlessly in her head. Eternity in agony... Eternity in agony... She repeated the words under her breath. Her hands trembled. Her lips quivered. But she didn’t break. She would not give in. ... Below, the battlefield had begun to still. The air, once thick with killing intent, was now heavy with exhaustion. Only the strong remained. The desperate. The survivors. And in mutual understanding, they stopped. Too tired, too wary, too few. Except for two. Rouge and Malrik refused to stop—lost in the high of battle, still swinging with bloodlust and glee. But Elijah is that strong and Malrik hardly managed to touch him. But Damon’s voice returned. Calm. Cold. Final. "That’s enough. The test ends here." "Number of participants remaining: eighty." Sophie stumbled back, blood dripping from her brow. Her body was a canvas of wounds. In her hand, a red lightning spear flickered and sparked. She breathed heavy, vision blurry, yet her eyes locked onto the figure in front of her. "Are you immortal or what?" she hissed. Rouge stood opposite her, body mangled and torn. Her regeneration was slowing. Even she had limits. But the smile on her face hadn’t faded. "Princess," Rouge said, blood running down her chin, "let’s be friends, okay?" She raised a hand like they’d just finished tea. "And let’s fight every day." Sophie stared at her like she was looking at a mental patient freshly escaped from the asylum. And for the first time in her royal life— "Fuck you, Rouge." She cursed. The princess cursed. —End of Chapter 30—