Gazing upon the remains of the Withered Cult’s leader, Green failed to find any new leads.
Detect Evil, Soul Perception, Divination… At his request, the Inquisition investigators had exhausted their repertoire, yet they found nothing in the hollowed-out skeleton but cooling fat and necrotic flesh. Anyone looking at this corpse would reach the same conclusion: the Cult Leader was dead, utterly and finally.
Except for Green. He had no rational evidence, only an instinctive pull—but in a world where magic and gods were real, intuition was the loudest form of proof.
“Check it again,” Green coughed, his voice raspy. “Don’t leave a single stone unturned.”
Clatter, clatter—
As the investigators worked frantically within the warehouse, a wave of noise erupted from outside.
“Hmm?” Green frowned. “Are those civilians? I gave orders to evacuate the nearby residents. It’s too dangerous here.”
Thud. The heavy doors were pushed open, and an investigator stumbled in, cold sweat drenching his brow. “Master Green, it’s bad… that—that Imperial Envoy, along with the residents… they’ve gathered outside.”
“Gathered?” Green dropped his notes. “What were you doing? If you couldn’t evacuate them, how did you let a crowd form? Did the Temple teach you nothing? Cults crave dense crowds for their rituals!”
“But… but,” the investigator stammered, “it was the Envoy. The people were incited by the Imperial Envoy!”
The Envoy. Green recalled that icy, calculating stare from the execution grounds. Though he had no interest in politics, he knew the Envoy was the trusted confidant of the current Prime Minister, Duke Montague—the man effectively ruling the kingdom while the young King remained a minor. Aside from Archbishop Lawrence, no one dared cross him.
“Trouble,” Green muttered. “In a crisis like this, do those people in the capital only think about power struggles?”
Cough, cough, cough!
A violent fit of coughing shook his frame. If he weren’t already dying, if his goal weren’t to raise Alice in the Way of the Light… Green wasn’t sure he would have the strength to play the “Saint” any longer.
Bracing his failing body, he walked out to meet the ill-intentioned official.
“Mr. Green.” Surprisingly, the Envoy was not mocking. Instead, he was perfectly polite, his movements adhering to the strictest court etiquette, as if they were in a grand ballroom rather than a ruin in the slums.
“Lord Envoy. Cough!” Green nodded slightly. “What brings you here?”
“I am here to voice the demands of the refugees.” The Envoy gestured behind him. A sea of dark figures followed him through the winter wind, looking to this man from the capital as their only lighthouse.
“Demands?” Green asked warily.
“Not mine, but the demands of the King’s innocent subjects. They hope you will make the correct choice, Mr. Green.”
Green thought for a moment. “You want me to hand over command? Fine. I’m suspended by the Council anyway.” He didn’t want a useless argument; getting these people away from the Cult Leader’s body was the priority.
“No,” the Envoy shook his head. “They don’t want you to leave. Quite the opposite, Mr. Green. They want you to stay—and act.”
“Expel the cultist’s daughter from the Paladins!” “The servants of Light cannot be tainted by foul blood!” “For the sake of Abundance City, get rid of that girl!”
One by one, the citizens shouted. Their faces were flushed with a terrifying, earnest “justice.”
Green froze. He had expected a political trap, but he hadn’t expected the Envoy to weaponize the people against Alice.
“Expel Alice? Why?” For a moment, Green’s unshakable faith wavered. He could handle any insult or injustice directed at himself. He was a Paladin; he was built for sacrifice.
But Alice? The innocent girl who had fought through the slums with a smile, who had worked harder than anyone to become a beacon of Light? He could not—would not—accept it. She was his goddaughter.
“I’m sorry.” Green’s polite smile vanished. “Lord Envoy, withdraw this absurd request.”
He stepped in front of Alice, shielding her. “I will accept any criticism of my own conduct. But I will not punish an innocent girl to satisfy a mob’s baseless anger.”
“Innocent? Her parents were cultists! They were the ones who ruined our families!” “Look at her face—you can tell she’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing!”
Green’s words, which usually commanded respect, had lost their magic against the roar of the crowd.
“I’m sorry, Master Green,” an elderly man from the slums—someone Green had personally helped many times—stepped forward. “We still believe you are a great Paladin, even without the Light. But… that girl? We cannot accept her.”
“Alice’s parents were not cultists!” Green shouted, desperate to quell the rising tide. “They were good people! There was an accident—”
VROOOOM—
As Green began to reveal the truth, the remains of the Withered Cult leader behind them began to vibrate. An invisible, malevolent pressure expanded rapidly.
“No!” Green’s instincts screamed. He lunged toward the ritual site. “EXORCISM STRIKE!!!”
Clang!
He drew his sword, pouring every ounce of his remaining mana into the blade. A brilliant white light erupted like the moon, momentarily pushing back the black fog.
“Julia! Alice! Evacuate the civilians! NOW!”
BOOM!!!
It was too late. The Cult Leader’s corpse exploded into a million shards of bone and shadow. The blood-red ritual circle on the floor reignited, and discarded ritual candles flew into the air, spinning in a macabre dance.
Cough, cough! Seeing the dark energy about to sweep over the innocent people, Green made the only choice he had left: Sacrifice.
“In the name of the God of Justice!” Green roared. “Patron of the Afflicted, Light of the Poor, GRANT ME STRENGTH!!!”
He prayed to Kamudo, the fallen god. No miracle descended from the heavens. No divine grace touched him.
But… his power tripled.
A Paladin’s vow, sworn with the soul, continued to provide power even when the Light itself had turned away.
Light erupted from within Green, a golden cage of pure will that wrapped around the darkness, containing the explosion. The crisis was smothered.
Phew— The smoke cleared. The people were safe.
Drip. Drip.
Except for one. Green.
“Pffft…” Having burned the very last embers of his soul to save the people who had just been cursing him, Green’s life reached its end.
“Godfather? Godfather!” Alice watched in a daze as the man who had always protected her, who had stood by her when the world turned cold… collapsed.
Thud.
She lunged forward, catching his cold body. “Godfather… please…”
“Sorry…” Green’s eyes were glassy, his voice a fading whisper. “It looks like… I won’t get to see you… become the Light…”
He closed his eyes.
“No… no, no, no!” Alice clutched him, her world shattering.
“Ahem! Look, citizens! It’s all because of that cursed girl!” The Envoy, having recovered from the blast, didn’t miss a beat. “Look at Alice! It was her presence that caused this! Master Green died because of her!”
A wave of agreement rippled through the crowd.
“It was… because of me…” Alice’s face went numb. Her vacant eyes stared at nothing. Her fiery red hair began to turn a ghostly, porcelain white.
[O Saint…] A voice echoed in Alice’s ear. [They are right. You are the daughter of the Holy Cult.] [Do you wish to revive your Godfather? Then become the Holy Mother. Give birth to the Son of God and drag this absurd world into Eternal Wither.] [Death is rebirth. In a withered world, you and your Godfather will find eternal peace.]
“Wither… rebirth… Son of God…” Alice murmured.
BOOM!!!
A force a thousand times stronger than the previous explosion gathered within the girl. Level 60… 70… 80… 90…
Her power didn’t stop until it touched the ceiling of the world. Level 100.
Alice opened her eyes. The hope that once lived there had been replaced by a deep, terrifying crimson. She tilted her head and smiled beautifully.
“You’re right. I am the daughter of the Cult. The heir to the foul blood.” She looked at the shivering crowd. “Mortals… accept the calamity. Find your rebirth in the Eternal Wither.”
The power of the Abyss had arrived. And it lived within Alice.
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