On the battlefield, a sudden and eerie vacuum of death appeared!
“……”
Helja completely lost her ability to speak. Her mouth hung open, her pupils dilated to their limits, and her body trembled uncontrollably.
Her mind went blank, leaving only the horrifying vision of hundreds of souls being casually drawn away, replaying relentlessly.
Was this a miracle? Or something else?
After a brief, suffocating silence—
“Lo… Long live!!!”
“Miss Eileen, long live our twin saintess!!!”
“The Holy Capital… is saved!!!”
The Imperial Knights and the surviving Restoration Knights finally snapped out of their overwhelming shock!
All their fear, despair, and exhaustion erupted at this moment into unrestrained joy and the exhilaration of having survived a catastrophe!
Like a volcano reaching its breaking point, a torrent of cheers and roars burst forth like a tsunami!
The sound waves nearly tore apart the battered skies over the Holy Capital!
Countless eyes filled with fanatic worship and tearful gratitude focused on the silver-haired girl at the center of the battlefield, whose fingertips still shimmered with a faint eerie glow.
At the peak of this deafening cheer—
The starry, iridescent Holy Magisterial Robe flowing over Eileen began to peel away like stardust scattered by the wind, revealing the silver-gray light armor and deep blue cloak beneath.
The dark light at her fingertips that had been devouring souls was extinguished entirely.
The most striking change was in her eyes, which had burned with molten gold and stardust lava—
That divine flame, capable of piercing the universe itself, receded like a tide, returning to a clear, pure golden hue tinged with confusion and panic.
The vast pressure and cold will of the Holy Magisterial King, like a receding tide, vanished swiftly.
“H-hey? Hey hey hey?!”
Eileen looked around at the fallen, lifeless corpses of monsters kneeling everywhere, then at the soldiers cheering wildly and rushing toward her like a tidal wave.
Her mind was utterly blank.
“W-what’s happening?! Just now… just now I seemed to… I… what happened to me?!”
Her last clear memory was still frozen at the moment of despair when Cerulelle had crushed the sanctuary with her dark giant, and their comrades fell one by one.
The next moment, countless hands, stained with blood but trembling with excitement, reached out and without a word threw her high into the air!
“Waaah! Put me down! What are you doing?!”
Eileen’s scream was instantly drowned out by an even louder wave of cheers.
She flailed her limbs in the air in vain, her face drained of color.
The commanding aura she had just displayed vanished completely, leaving only an ordinary girl bewildered and dizzy from the sudden surge of passion and chaos.
“Miss Eileen! Our savior!”
“By the Goddess above! Thank you for granting us another saintess!”
“Long live Miss Eileen!”
The soldiers laughed and tossed her repeatedly into the air, expressing their ecstatic joy and boundless gratitude in the most primal and heartfelt way.
Eileen waved her arms and legs helplessly, her face pale as a flower.
In the distance, Helja watched the silver-haired girl being tossed high and panicked, then glanced back at the suddenly silent vacuum zone where the monsters had vanished.
Her eyes were deeply conflicted.
Roswither leaned on the knight supporting her, looking at the scene with a genuine, relaxed smile tinged with a hint of helplessness.
Near the ruins, the unconscious Regilith seemed to twitch her brow slightly amid the deafening cheers.
The infernal flames of the Holy Capital had not fully died out, but the deepest despair seemed to have been completely driven away by a brief starshine that had appeared and quietly vanished.
Only, the owner of that starshine was now awkwardly enjoying her own naive triumph.
Several days later, the smell of gunpowder in the Holy Capital had faded considerably.
The fires had been extinguished, and the survivors began clearing the ruins.
The air was thick with a complex mixture of sorrow and the resolve to rebuild.
Eileen and her companions were placed to recover in the relatively intact side wing of the Grand Cathedral.
“… And then, just like that, whoosh, all the monsters knelt down! Then, swish, their souls were sucked out by you! Just one move! One move only!”
Helja flailed her arms wildly, saliva flying, as she described the scene to Eileen, trying to awaken her vague memories.
“At that moment, your eyes! Golden! Burning! Like the sun! No, like the entire universe on fire! It was terrifying! And so… so cool!”
Her face flushed a little as she spoke.
Eileen hugged her knees on the bed, her brow furrowed as she tried to remember.
“I… I only remember feeling very sad, very desperate, then it seemed like I heard a voice. After that… I think I flew really high… saw stars… then everything got… blurry… like a dream…”
“Immortal mode!”
Trying to focus, she struck what she thought was a cool pose.
But nothing happened.
“Sigh, looks like that miracle happened only this once,” Helja said, dejectedly sinking back into her chair.
Serena sat nearby, gently shaking her head, her voice weak but certain.
“A miracle? Maybe. But when it comes to Eileen, it doesn’t seem so surprising after all.”
After all, she was the “Miracle Weaver” herself.
Just then, the door to the room was flung open!
At the doorway stood Roswither, pale and breathless, clearly having rushed here in haste, neglecting even her usual composed demeanor.
“Eileen! Helja! And Serena, come quickly! There’s something… you must see!” Her voice trembled with suppressed shock and urgency.
Eileen, Helja, and Serena exchanged glances, all sensing confusion and an ominous premonition in each other’s eyes.
They quickly rose and followed Roswither out of the room.
Roswither led them through the winding corridors of the Grand Cathedral, avoiding the busy crowds, descending downward.
The air grew colder and damper, heavy with a mixture of medicinal scents and faint decay.
Finally, they stopped before a heavy iron door engraved with sealing runes.
Roswither touched several nodes on the door with the crystal atop her staff.
The heavy iron door creaked loudly as it slowly opened.
What lay beyond made Eileen and the others draw a sharp breath, freezing in place!
It was a vast, sinister underground chamber, seemingly a repurposed secret laboratory.
Cold magical lamps cast a ghastly pale light.
Beneath the glow, behind cold iron cages and restraint devices, dozens of grotesque creatures were imprisoned.
Some still bore clear human traits—twisted, agonized faces, tattered clothing, even remnants of robes worn by Church monks or nuns.
But most had forcibly grafted, fused limbs and organs of abyssal monsters!
Twisted bone spikes pierced through their skin; limbs covered with scales or carapaces grew unnaturally.
Compound eyes spun within human sockets; mandibles tore through cheeks.
Some emitted unconscious, beast-like cries of pain; others huddled in corners with hollow, numb stares, like broken dolls.
An overwhelming aura of despair, suffering, and abyssal corruption almost solidified and rushed upon them.
“By the Goddess above…” Helja covered her mouth, her stomach churning violently.
Serena frowned, her crimson eyes burning as if aflame.
She certainly understood what this scene meant.
Roswither stood at the doorway, her figure unusually frail under the pale light.
She looked at those abominations—neither human nor demon—and spoke in a low, hoarse voice filled with deep sorrow and anger.
“Do you see, Eileen, Helja? These… are the sacrifices under Cerulelle’s ‘Purify the Future’ plan. She called it ‘evolution.’ Ha…”
Her laugh was cold and bitter.
“Beneath the sanctum of holy light, under the name of the Goddess, this is the… ultimate desecration she has committed!”