Secain knelt and raised her hands, which held the exquisite black cane, on whose head embedded a pure-white diamond. Iris pressed her right hand to Secain’s palms, stroking them, and grasped the cane. The diamond glowed, crying out for its owner’s affection.

Iris rubbed the diamond, smiling. As Secain retreated to stand beside Lorient, Iris lifted her gaze. Her subordinates, surrounding her, disappeared from her view. Only a metallic gate locked by glistening chains remained in her focus. Its shimmering appearance exuded an imposing aura that commanded authority over the weak-willed.

Despite trying their best, Metamorphosis Phase Monster Girls couldn’t stare at the gate for too long. Their palpitating hearts ached; their bodies grew tense. If they approached the gate, a danger would befall them, and they would perish.

Standing before the gate, Iris lightly knocked her cane against the floor. A soothing tone resounded, echoing throughout the third floor. This vibration passed through the Monster Girls, imbuing their minds with the assurance that none would come to harm, that they were standing behind Iris, their mistress, their leader.

Iris took out a golden card she got from an imprisoned professor and tapped it on the gate.

A golden radiance flashed. A hidden mechanism rotated, snapped, shifted, clicked, and quaked. The chains binding the gate gradually unravelled.

Iris frowned. The golden card in her hand turned crimson and shattered. Countless burning fragments flew at her. The gate trembled, its chains rustling. The crystal walls trembled, and the lines engraved on the surrounding came to life.

Lorient projected her spells while Secain manipulated her shadow, but Iris merely lifted her left hand. The twisting chains and crystal blades aiming for her heart met a thin membrane, whose structure stretched and enveloped them. As it folded over the attacks, its faintest yellow colour gradually darkened until only a dark blue shade remained.

Like a black sea, it drowned the chains and crystals, which disintegrated into energetic particles.

These particles, tainted by Iris’s Corruption Power, reversed their course. They headed for the gate. The remaining protective chains and crystal walls caved upon the impact, cracks manifesting on their smooth surfaces.

A shockwave shook the third floor, loosening dust on the ceiling. The surrounding Monster Girls lost their balance; some stabilized themselves while others tipped only to get caught by their friends.

Lorient and Secain cancelled their spells. They were too slow to help Iris. No. Iris was too fast. Her instant casting, with such power and complexity, wasn’t something a Master could do.

“Mistress, your prowess is matchless,” Secain said. “If it were us, we would’ve sustained a few grazing wounds.”

“Your shadow dissimilation will help you avoid the trap.” Iris looked at Lorient. “And your vine shield will grant you enough response time.”

“But we can’t imitate your grace.”

“It’s merely the result of my Innate Talent.”

“No Slime Girl could achieve your elegance, Mistress. You’re special, born with a gift unparalleled.”

Iris shook her head. She couldn’t deny her extraordinary origin, even if she didn’t want it to be true. She was unique, an amalgamation of schemes stacking on top of her, empowering but also controlling her.

Even now, she wasn’t sure if her actions were hers, or if she was merely dancing to the invisible tone of an unseen puppeteer.

“I . . . wasn’t born with an unparalleled gift. I simply bet my everything for a chance to, a singular, minuscule chance.” Iris closed her eyes.

Secain and Lorient refrained from commenting or inquiring. Their mistress would’ve told them sooner or later. They didn’t have to push her, for doubt never existed between them.

Iris raised her left hand once more. Her Corruption Power, now bright and holy, gathered at her palm. It weaved into a thin fabric-like array, whose shape gradually resembled a luminous lance. Its length spanned out of her reach, yet its majesty only enhanced hers.

She gripped its immaterial handle, aimed at the crumbling gate, and thrust forward. Her delicate movement produced a thunderous shockwave, which cracked the floor beneath her feet and the ceiling above her head.

Rays of light shot out of the tip of the holy lance. The main beam, the biggest and brightest, charged through the air, burning vapour and dust particles, whose scorching ashes twinkled like gemstones reflecting sunlight. Combined with the smaller beams surrounding it, the attack struck the gate, detonating in a dazzling light that blinded all senses.

Secain, Lorient, and other members of The Court shielded themselves with magic while raising their weapons and conjuring their spells, though they didn’t dare to strike recklessly.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Three humanoid silhouettes burst through the ruined gate. The three Elementals—one Water, another Fire, and the last Wind—struck their gigantic palms at Iris. Their powers erupted from their cores, aiming to annihilate the intruder.

Iris let go of her golden lance. Trembling mid-air, it thrust itself upon its enemies. The Corruption Power sustaining its structure broke down into tiny stars and headed for destruction. They crashed with the immaterial Elementals, who crushed the foreign energy with their overwhelming Elemental particles.

As Iris raised her cane, Lorient, covered in thorny vines and blossoming flowers, leapt past her. She swung her excited whip at the Water Elemental. Her green Corruption Power flowed through her whip, on whose stem bloomed pink flowers.

Their fine petals detached from the whip and flew at the Elemental. Upon touching it, the petals greedily absorbed the magical vapours, growing more petals, turning into a new flower, whose white roots penetrated the Elemental.

No matter how it manipulated its Water Element, creating blades, evaporating to escape, or compressing the flowers, nothing could stop a sea of flowers from consuming it.

Its movement slowed to a halt, and the roots took over its silhouette, turning it into an unmoving tree.

Besides the Water Elemental, the Wind Elemental roared. Its screeching tone grew hoarse. Its Wind Element cut through the black tendrils constricting its body. The immaterial tendrils, created by its shadow, rapidly dragged the Elemental into the puddle of stain-like darkness.

The blade-like winds cut through the floor and ceiling and everything in between. They shattered stone pillars, splintered wooden shelves, and ground fragile equipment to dust, yet they harmlessly passed through their sole enemy, the ghostly Secain, whose body merged with the shadow, turning fluid-like, seamlessly separating and recombining.

Secain’s dissipated figure condensed in front of the Wind Elemental. While getting assaulted by a storm of invisible blades, which rendered her silhouette distorted, she raised her right hand, holding the purple-tinted dagger, and plunged it at the Elemental’s core.

Submerged within the intense concentration of Wind Element, her intangible right hand bubbled. Its shadowy mass rapidly scattered, dispersed and taken apart, dissolved to nothingness.

Her dagger stabbed the core. The Heart Stirrer poison rapidly spread throughout the interconnected Wind Element. The invisible blades faltered. They revealed themselves in the shade of dark purple before turning into toxic gas which decayed everything they touched.

When the Wind Elemental melted, and the toxin was about to contaminate the floor, Secain took out a bottle of perfume, shook it lightly, and sprayed it around her. The magical perfume, synthesised by Morbi, captured the Heart Stirrer residue. They reacted with each other and formed pinkish steam whose fragrance stirred the hearts but didn’t destroy them.

The last Elemental got overwhelmed by the rest of Iris’s underlings. They soon annihilated the Fire Elemental, reducing it to mere cinders.

Everyone looked for Iris, but she’d already disappeared up the fourth floor. They chased after her and, passing a few signs of one-sided battles, found her holding a grimoire in her left hand, smiling at a female professor kneeling before her.

Unbothered by the professor’s hateful glare, Iris carefreely scanned through the grimoire’s content. She occasionally glanced at the tattered, exhausted, and defeated eye candy.

Her prisoner, chained by flower-laden vines, pointlessly flailed her arms; her strength could only fall the petals and tear her clothes. With more of her fair skin exposed, her attribute softened, and her fierce gaze dimmed. She’d studied extensively about the Corrupted Ones; she knew what they could do and feared for her life.

“Your grimoire contains a great deal of biology-oriented spells. Your talent is hard to come by,” Iris said. “How many of my kind have you experimented on?”

“I don’t keep track of a such meaningless thing.” The professor snickered. “I did kill one of you, a Purple-Scaled Snake Girl. That book you’re holding, her carcass contributes half of it.”

“Her name, age, hope and dream?”

“Don’t bother. Even her Soul Gem no longer exists; I ground it to explore its composition. You must’ve seen it. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Iris closed the grimoire, bent down to the kneeling professor, and placed the book in front of her. Iris’s black eyes, staring at the professor’s, glimmered. As a milky white current swirled in her pupils, she reached forward, caressing the professor’s left cheek.

“How cute. You fear losing your sense of self so much that you lied about your sins. Aren’t you afraid that I might Corrupt you here and now, so that your past will drown you in despair, and you will forever be in my embrace?”

“You . . . wouldn’t absolve me. They wouldn’t let you.” The professor eyed the other Monster Girls approaching Iris. “You’ll kill me, or they’ll kill me, or I’ll kill myself.”

Iris leaned close to the professor’s ears. “What form do you think you’ll assume, Melan?”

“How—”

As Melan was about to speak, Iris seized her chin and forced a small seed down her throat. It melted upon touching her tongue, flooding her mouth with a hint of savoury sweetness, which, despite its unwelcome presence, soothed her aching heart, invaded her body, and infected her with a sense of lethargic dread.

She widened her eyes, tears welling. She tried to bite her tongue, tried to detonate the Pure Power inside her bosom, tried to shatter her heart, but all she could do was fall into terrifyingly peaceful darkness.

The restraint on her relaxed. Iris caught her falling body and lay her gently on the ground. The other Monster Girls came to Iris and examined Melan before reporting their findings.

“Should we take her with us?” a Monster Girl said. “To be graced by your touch is her honour.”

“We shouldn’t force what isn’t meant to be.” Iris got up. “Give her a new set of clothes and give her to other captives.”

“Your words lead our hearts, Lady Black Rose.”

The Monster Girls took the sleeping Melan away. Their excited chattering faded as they left Iris. She stared at the place she restrained Melan and sighed. She merely gave her a healing medicine.

She was still afraid, too afraid to risk it.

“Mistress, please take the key to freedom.” Secain climbed out of Iris’s shadow and knelt before Iris. She raised her right hand, which held a rusty bronze key.

Pushing back her contemplation, Iris took the key. “You’ve done well, Purple Shadow.”

“Please give me a heartfelt reward.”

“Such a greedy little maid; I like it.”

Iris lifted her gaze and walked to the end of the hall, where her attendants had already cleared the path, captured the resistance, looted what they desired, and found all enslaved Monster Girls. They waited for her by the side, reassuring their poor kin and treating their wounds.

Standing before the monolith controlling all prison cells, Iris gripped the bronze key in her hand, took a deep breath, and pressed it against the mould.