The Bad Girl's Quick Transmigration System: Traveling Back and Forth

In that quiet valley, an atmosphere of oppression and tension permeated. The Pope of the Dark Magician Organization, dressed in a gorgeous yet eerie robe and holding a glowing longsword, coldly stared across at Lina, a female general of the Roman Holy City Guard.

Lina stood tall, her silver armor gleaming in the sunlight. Her eyes were firm and resolute, and she gripped her spear tightly, as if holding the glory and hope of the Holy City. However, she was now isolated and helpless, the dark magicians' magic surrounding her like a black tide.

A cruel smile played across the Pope's lips, as if he were enjoying the impending slaughter. His eyes revealed a cold and ruthless apathy; in his eyes, Lina was nothing more than a lamb to be slaughtered. "Do you think you can protect this so-called holy city? You're like a mantis trying to stop a chariot!" The Pope's voice was low and sinister.

Lina glared and shouted, "You evil magicians, the justice of the Holy City will crush you!" Her voice was clear and loud, echoing in the square.

The Pope's eyes were as cold as a glacial pond, revealing a resolute killing intent. He gripped his sword tightly, the veins in his arms bulging like a dragon, as if gathering all his strength. Every muscle was tense, brimming with power and majesty.

His movements were as swift as lightning, as fast as a cheetah, leaving Lina no chance to breathe. The longsword slashed through the air in an inky black arc, carrying a sharp sword energy, piercing Lina's throat like a venomous snake. Lina's eyes widened, her face filled with fear and despair. She desperately tried to dodge, but her body was frozen, unable to move.

The longsword, swift and precise like a venomous snake, pierced Lina's throat. Instantly, blood gushed out like a volcanic eruption, a crimson torrent splattering across the Pope's robes. The bright red blood quickly spread across the black robe, creating a strange and terrifying painting. Hideous, horrific blood flowers bloomed across the black robe, emitting a nauseating, pungent odor.

Lina's body trembled violently like a leaf in the wind, as if it would be blown away in the next second. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. Only the hoarse sound like a torn piece of cloth was squeezed out from the depths of her throat with difficulty, like a wail from hell.

Her eyes gradually dimmed, their once bright pupils now hollow and lifeless, like ashes with their souls ripped out, lifeless. The light of life slowly faded from her eyes, as if mercilessly snatched away by an invisible hand.

The corners of her mouth twitched uncontrollably, a pain and despair that could not be expressed in words. Her face was filled with fear and despair, tears welling up in her eyes, but they refused to flow, as if they were being held back by a powerful force.

Her hand tightly grasped the spear, as if it was her last straw, but the spear seemed to have lost its life support and fell to the ground weakly, making a dull thud.

Her body gradually grew colder, her once vibrant skin now pale as paper, devoid of any trace of color. Her breathing grew increasingly weak, like a candle in the wind, ready to go out at any moment. Her eyes were filled with a longing for life and a fear of death, a deep sense of helplessness and despair that was heartbreaking to watch.

The moment she took her last breath, her body collapsed like a puppet without support, a soulless shell. Her long hair cascaded down, covering her pale face, as if to provide a final cover for her departure.

The spear in her hand fell to the ground with a clang, a sharp and piercing sound that echoed in the silent air for a long time. The sound seemed to toll the death knell for her departure, telling of her unwillingness and regret, which moved everyone.

The entire scene fell into a dead silence, save for the continuous flow of blood, which stained the ground red, forming a shocking pool. The Pope stood still, like a statue, his face expressionless, as if none of this concerned him. His eyes were cold and empty, as if he were gazing at a distant, unfamiliar world. Yet, his slightly trembling hands betrayed the turmoil within him.

The Pope looked at Lina's body quietly, and the cruelty in his eyes was gradually replaced by a sense of satisfaction. He turned and left, leaving behind Lina's cold body, blood, and the smell of death.