Moreover, one must know that the original undead Samimi was the scum of all scum; by comparison, the contrast made her current self seem even more impressive.
Samimi put herself in the position of the Earl’s Lady for a moment.
If her own daughter had real promise, she probably would have already returned to the ancestral temple to burn incense and pray!
But she did have a good daughter in Niubao. Aside from being a bit dim-witted, Niubao was one hundred percent obedient, well-behaved, diligent, and hardworking.
After all, the age gap between Samimi and Niubao wasn’t much; she treated her as her own daughter.
“Is that half-orc nun your colleague?” The Earl’s Lady asked just as she was thinking about Niubao.
“She’s someone I took in. A little slave who fell and injured her abdomen by the roadside. I healed her, and since she had nowhere to stay, she ended up living at the chapel with me,” Samimi explained.
“Such a poor child.” The Earl’s Lady was visibly moved.
What touched her most was that her formerly terrible daughter would actually save someone—a half-orc at that?
It had to be noted that the former Samimi was a staunch racial supremacist. She was an unwavering defender of the noble class, and half-orcs were considered less than insects in her eyes—despicable and utterly detestable, worthy only of death.
So when the Earl’s Lady heard that Samimi had rescued a half-orc girl and even raised her—dealing with all the mess that came with it—it was nothing short of a miracle!
And now she was even funding the town to build walls? The Earl’s Lady simply couldn’t believe her daughter was capable of such things!
The more she thought about it, the more excited she became, almost fainting from the shock.
“Are you alright? The noble ladies have weaker constitutions than I do. The morning sun is too much for you. Let’s head back. No need to watch this any longer; the town chief’s knights will supervise the workers.”
Samimi stretched out her strong and powerful arm, supporting the Earl’s Lady with one hand as they returned to the shade in Sweet Melon Town to rest.
However, upon returning…
From afar, Samimi saw a group of uninvited guests blocking the main street of the town, obstructing the caravan’s path and causing a massive traffic jam.
“I am the Black Lotus Baron! All the surrounding territories belong to me! And you, a mere small-town chief, dare to talk back? You established a guild without my permission? Such audacity!”
Frowning deeply, Samimi stepped closer and overheard someone shouting this all-too-predictable line, making her want to retch.
“According to the rules, Sweet Melon Town is not under the jurisdiction of the Black Lotus Baron.”
The town chief was standing there, arguing passionately with the uninvited guests.
“Don’t move! Don’t move! Don’t act rashly!”
Several of the town’s knights were guarding the Sweet Melon Guild, preventing a group of thugs many times their number from entering, doing their duty very responsibly.
Samimi finally got a good look at this group’s true colors—a middle-aged noble wearing ostentatious and flashy clothing, leading a gang of vicious thug knights.
Even their formation was classic villain material; truly a disgraceful and low-class antagonist troupe.
“You dare defy me, a mere common town chief!” The Blackberry Baron snapped angrily and raised his hand to slap the town chief.
“Zheh!” Suddenly, a metal staff flew from the side and struck him sharply in the waist.
The Blackberry Baron collapsed like a broken fish on the ground, clutching his side in pain, grimacing with a mouthful of teeth, but somehow unable to pass out—he had to endure the agony.
Even stranger, as he fell, the metal staff that hit him remained standing upright on the ground, as if some invisible force was controlling it.
This was clearly intentional. If the blow had struck the head, he would have lost consciousness immediately. Instead, it targeted the ribs to inflict excruciating pain without letting him pass out.
“Who… who dared hit me? I am the Black Lily… Baron!” His expression was as ugly as mud, but he still shouted.
“It’s me.” A pitch-black figure emerged from the crowd, and the noisy street instantly fell silent.
She stepped forward, her small hand resting on the upright Runic Staff.
Even the snarling thug knights retreated a step upon seeing the woman in black, clearly intimidated by her imposing aura.
“I am the local Nun Samimi. This guild is mine. The blood potions are mine to sell. If you have any issues, take them up with me. Come and fight me if you dare to risk your life,” Samimi said coldly.
“Local nun? A nun dares to strike me!” The Blackberry Baron sat on the ground, gritting his teeth.
“[Healing Spell].” Samimi flicked her hand and shot out a small healing green orb, restoring him.
“Haha! You’re afraid—”
“Yong!” But as soon as Samimi healed him, she stabbed her staff forward fiercely, jabbing the Blackberry Baron’s belly and forcing him to spit out last night’s dinner.
“[Healing Spell].” With a snap of her fingers, Samimi healed him again.
“What are you staring at? Attack! Did I invite you here to do nothing? You’re just a mere nun! A mere cleric! What are you afraid of?” The Black Lotus Baron didn’t dare stand or challenge Samimi but loudly scolded the thug knights behind him.
“I’ve been studying at the Magic Academy for three months and still don’t know what magic can do to ordinary people?” Samimi casually remarked, easily intimidating the gang of thug knights.
As she spoke, an eerie and intense crimson thorn magic began to emanate from her, frightening the gathered crowd into retreating.
What’s the point of risking your life for a three hundred silver coin monthly salary? It’s not worth it!
“[Strength Enhancement].” Samimi slightly boosted herself and suddenly charged forward with a lightning-fast thrust.
“Crack!” The Runic Staff struck the Black Lily Baron’s shoulder, breaking his arm.
But this time, Samimi wouldn’t heal him—she left him writhing on the ground.
This kind of brainless noble looking for trouble was probably the most common trope in other worlds: endless cycles of one arrogant jerk after another, with hundreds of thousands of words of pointless build-up, internal monologues, and humiliations, making you want to punch the author’s glasses off.
But now it was her turn to transmigrate into this world. How could she not act? How could she watch her people being beaten without lifting a finger?
Samimi thought this move had a bit of flair.
Her three-staff thrust combo should look pretty cool, right?
If any other protagonist tried to show off, they’d waste entire chapters explaining the causes and effects, pages of internal struggles, and slapdowns—taking at least three chapters to pull off such a lame stunt.
Some might even throw in historical flavor, with chapters of setbacks, acceptance, calls to action, and scheming, only to fight a minor noble and pretend it’s a final boss battle.
But Samimi didn’t care about the backstory or the reasoning. She had no feelings for such stupid nobles—not even sympathy—just a stick ready to smash their shins.
“Get lost. Don’t show your face here again.” Samimi swung the Runic Staff with pride, thinking she looked very cool.
She couldn’t help but sigh again: Priestess Rebecca had truly crafted the Runic Staff perfectly—its feel in hand was first-class, just enough to injure but not kill. A truly perfect weapon.
The next moment, the thug knights dragged the injured Black Lily Baron away, disappearing without a trace in the blink of an eye.
(Ding! +0.5 Kindness Points!)
“Thank you, Nun Miss.” The Sweet Melon Town Chief came forward to express gratitude.
“Don’t mention it. We’re business partners. You think, I act—that’s my responsibility. No need for thanks.” Samimi waved her hand, signaling it was nothing.