Baker City, backstage.
Celia sat on a chair in the corner, holding a bottle of Happy Water in her hand.
This was a concentrated version of Happy Water.
To suppress the impending stage fright and sense of shame, Celia had specifically increased the dosage of Berserk Berry.
The people around her noticed her movements.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know, it looks like some kind of Forbidden Potion used to stimulate one’s potential.”
Celia ignored the whispers around her and downed the liquid in the bottle in one gulp.
The high-concentration berry juice slid down her throat, and subtle electric currents exploded along her esophagus. The intense stimulation dissipated the feelings of social death and shame in her mind.
Refreshing! This is true happiness!
However, Celia soon felt an urge to burp welling up in her throat. But the current situation was inappropriate, so she could only press her lips tightly together, forcibly suppressing the burst of air.
After waiting idly for a while, Yuna ran back from the front stage to announce the good news to everyone:
“It’s our turn, get ready to go on stage!”
***
The lights on the stage suddenly went out, leaving only a single beam of light hitting the entrance.
The originally cheerful music came to an abrupt halt, replaced by the low, oppressive sound of a pipe organ. This instrument, which was originally used only for Church masses, was currently tuned down two octaves, making it sound full of profanity.
The curtain rose, and the audience fell silent.
Lynn was the first to walk out, her pure white robes trailing on the ground. Under the illumination of the lights, Lynn’s shrinking appearance looked like a lamb that had wandered into a pack of wolves.
Elent walked into the circle of light bare-chested, holding a thick iron chain in his hand. The scar makeup on his face looked startling under the lights.
The chain tightened, and Celia was led out.
The fabric of the black nun’s habit on the young girl was extremely sparse. The Fishnet Stockings on her thighs pinched into her skin, leaving clear marks, and her neck was fastened with a spiked Collar, the other end of which was held in Elent’s hand.
Due to the effect of the extra-strong Happy Water from earlier, fine electric arcs flickered around Celia’s body. Combined with the Saint Celery flowing from within her, a hazy halo shimmered through the thin black gauze.
Celia walked to the center of the stage and stopped.
The audience was dead silent.
Everyone stared at the bound figure on stage. This sense of contrast, so different from the usual image of a holy nun, made the audience members forget to breathe.
Celia wanted to say something and then strike a pose according to Yuna’s original script.
“Gulp—”
The air she had suppressed in her throat surged up again. Celia had to clench her teeth and tilt her chin up slightly to combat the physiological discomfort.
However, in the eyes of the audience, this movement looked like a gesture of disdain.
Right at that moment, a clamor of footsteps came from the stairs at the side of the stage.
“Stop, everyone stop!”
A familiar female voice broke the atmosphere of the scene.
Catherine rushed to the edge of the stage, lifting her skirt, followed by a squad of guards and a middle-aged man wearing the robes of a Holy See Deacon.
“Seize her, it’s that woman!”
“She is a witch of the Black Church! She is openly promoting Fallen Doctrine in Baker City! Lord Deacon, hurry and seize her so she can be subjected to Purification!”
The music did not stop; the low drone of the pipe organ continued to echo.
The audience began to stir.
Celia stood in place, looking at the group of people rushing up. She wanted to explain that this was just a show, but as soon as her lips moved, that burp reached the top of her throat.
She couldn’t speak.
Once she opened her mouth to burp, the persona of the Fallen Saintess would completely collapse.
Celia could only purse her lips tightly, her gaze coldly sweeping over Catherine.
If she ended up making a fool of herself, she would definitely make Catherine pay!
Seeing someone rushing toward Celia, Elent’s body reacted first, stepping forward to block the way in front of her.
This protective posture, combined with his scarred body and the electric arcs, made several guards who were trying to step forward freeze in their tracks.
“What are you waiting for? Do it!” Catherine shouted at the Deacon behind her.
The Holy See Deacon frowned, his hand resting on the codex at his waist. As a professional inquisitor of heresy, he had a keen sense for dark auras.
The Deacon walked within five paces of Celia, just about to shout a reprimand.
The Saint Celery that had been suppressed inside Celia’s body was stimulated by the external hostility and fluctuated.
A warm white glow was released through the black nun’s habit.
It didn’t look like a disguise of dark magic, nor was it the special effect of an Alchemical Potion.
It was genuine Saint Celery that could only be condensed by a member of the clergy.
The Deacon’s eyes widened as he looked at the girl before him who, despite being dressed in fallen attire, was radiating Saint Celery from her entire body.
This kind of pure Saint Celery was something that even an average Bishop might not possess.
Celia still didn’t say a word; she just watched him quietly, her eyes containing three parts indifference, three parts endurance, and four parts nonchalance.
The Deacon’s lips began to tremble.
What was he seeing?
An ascetic who lived in darkness, draped in the shackles of sin, yet carried Light in her heart, with Saint Celery manifesting through her body.
What level of resolve was this? What kind of realm was this!
Under Catherine’s disbelieving gaze, this originally aggressive Deacon actually knelt directly on the stage.
“Stigmata Manifestation!”
The Deacon’s trembling voice spread throughout the venue via amplification magic.
“This is true asceticism! Bearing the sins of the world while seeking the redemption of the Light! Praise the Saint Celery!”
The audience, who had been somewhat hesitant, instantly erupted when they heard the official certification from the Holy See Deacon.
“So that’s how it is, this is performance art!”
“How great! I knew that look in her eyes was different!”
“Fallen Saintess! Fallen Saintess!”
The cheers broke out like a tsunami.
Catherine stood frozen in place, looking at the kneeling Deacon, then at the fanatical audience, and finally at the cold and aloof Celia on stage.
“No, this isn’t right? Have you all gone mad?”
Catherine took two steps back. Before she could react, the kneeling Deacon suddenly stood up and backhanded her across the face.
“Fool, how dare you interrupt such a holy ritual!” The Deacon’s eyes were wide with rage. “Blasphemer, drag her out!”
Several guards looked at each other and immediately turned their spears, grabbing the still-dazed Catherine and dragging her toward the backstage.
“Let go of me! I am from the Violet Chamber of Commerce… Mmph mmph!”
Catherine’s voice disappeared into the backstage.
Only the trio remained on stage.
Watching all of this, Celia’s tense body finally relaxed a little.
“Burp—”
A tiny bubble of a burp escaped from her mouth.
Fortunately, the applause and cheers from the entire venue were too loud, masking this discordant note.
Does this mean the performance is over?
Celia glanced at the fanatical audience and felt that her task was complete.
Time to exit.
Celia tugged on the chain in her hand. Elent understood, put away his fierce expression, patted Lynn’s shoulder, and followed Celia toward the backstage.
Only the Holy See Deacon remained on stage, still kneeling in the center, piously making the sign of the cross toward Celia’s departing back.