“If even a single villager is burned to death, then you are the one forging a divine oracle!”
The female knight glared at Irene, her chest heaving, a sickly flush spreading across her face. Of course she knew Irene was trying to exonerate her companions. Although she didn’t know what trick Irene was planning, with so many eyes watching, the advantage was hers.
In a moment, I’ll send her to the stake as well.
To risk your own life, even your whole future, for the sake of so-called friendship—how moving! Burning them will surely be a most delightful experience.
Irene smiled, not backing down in the slightest. “If none of the villagers die, then you are the one falsely invoking the goddess’s name. The guilty one is you!”
The female knight’s lips curled into a smile, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Interesting. To dare say such things to us, servants of the goddess—I rather admire you. State your name!”
“You should have heard of me. A villain notorious throughout the kingdom. If I were to be judged by the charges rumored about me, I’d have more than enough crimes to send me to the stake by your hands!”
Irene paused, cleared her throat, then pointed her thumb at herself. “Framing teammates, embezzling the kingdom’s finances, suppressing newcomers, a life of wanton debauchery… I am Irene Raven.”
The list of her crimes was already too long to count, and Irene couldn’t be bothered to recite them all. Any random few would do.
The female knight blinked upon hearing this. Of course she’d heard that name! Nowadays, Irene was a household name throughout the kingdom—though for all the wrong reasons. She’d even been written into textbooks as a disgrace among the nobility.
She’d long heard of Irene. In fact, she felt they were kindred spirits.
They’d admired each other from afar—both spoiled noble daughters, so who was she to judge?
“So it’s you. I think I understand why you’re doing this. You plan to give these people a glimmer of hope, only to snatch it away again, don’t you? Truly wicked.”
Irene snorted and retorted, “I’m not so bored as to do that. Don’t lump me in with you. Just say it—do you dare wager with me? Let’s see on whose side the goddess stands.”
After laughing, the female knight couldn’t help but shake her head and sigh. “Since you insist on seeking death, I’ll oblige you. Do you want to light the fire yourself? Otherwise, you’ll claim I did something underhanded.”
“No need, you light it. If even one person is burned to death, I lose.”
The female knight snorted, muttering “Fool.” If someone survived the flames, that would be one thing—there were so many people, after all, and accidents could happen. But not a single death among so many?
She’s underestimating us Inquisitors, isn’t she?
She took a torch from the knights, stepped forward, and tossed it onto the firewood at the villagers’ feet. The other knights followed suit.
And thus, the merry barbecue party began.
She stared at Irene with a sinister grin, as if already picturing her bound to the stake. Once you’re accused of forging a divine oracle, your noble status won’t protect you! As for any trouble after burning her—let the Pope worry about that.
The Inquisitor knights were well-trained; trying any tricks under these circumstances would be nearly impossible.
Come, let me see, Miss Irene—what’s your plan?
She looked at Irene, only to see her pull up a chair and sit down, calm and unruffled.
Hmph, let’s see how long you can keep up that arrogance!
On the stake, Rita spoke anxiously, “Sister Irene, why did you take such a hopeless bet with her? You didn’t have to worry about me…”
Irene spread her hands, helpless. “What can I do? You’re already one of mine. I can’t just watch a fool like you go to your death.”
“But it’s not necessary…”
Rita mumbled, blaming herself for doing something incredibly foolish, but her heart was also in turmoil. Sister Irene, why are you so good to me?
Even though it’s just, even though it’s just—
“Shut up, silly girl. Just trust me! I told you, today the goddess is merciful. No one will die.”
Just trust Irene? But will a miracle really happen?
Rita fell silent.
The female knight overheard the exchange, and couldn’t help but sneer. Still not giving up, huh?
And then, for some reason, she even opened an umbrella?
Ridiculous. The sky’s clear as can be—how could it possibly rain?
You think putting on such an act will make me—
Just as she thought this, a thunderclap rumbled across the sky. The female knight looked up, stupefied. The cloudless sky was now thick with dark clouds!
“Impossible…”
Indeed, by all logic, this was absolutely impossible!
The next instant, rain poured down in torrents. Irene gracefully opened her umbrella, her rosy lips curving in a smile as she looked at the female knight’s incredulous face and teased, “Oh my, I forgot to remind you, Sir Knight—did you bring an umbrella?”
The female knight stood dumbfounded in the rain, water streaming down her armor. She stared at Irene, unable to help but demand, “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. I was merely conveying the goddess’s oracle.” Irene smiled sweetly. “The goddess is merciful and generous. But for those who recklessly abuse her name… well, who can say?”
The female knight raged, “You’re talking about us, the glorious servants of the goddess—”
“That’s right, I mean you.”
The female knight’s face flushed red, then pale, but she had no way to refute Irene. Rain pouring down like this, at such a moment—what explanation could there be except the goddess’s will?
“It’s raining, it’s really raining!”
“It’s true! She was right—we’re saved! The goddess judges us innocent!”
“To hear the goddess’s oracle—this young lady is the one closest to the goddess!”
“She’s the real Saintess, isn’t she?”
Rita stared in astonishment. A miracle… really happened? No, was it Sister Irene—did she really hear the goddess’s voice?
Her emotions surged, and her eyes stung.
With the rain pouring down, she couldn’t tell whether it was tears or rain streaming down her cheeks.
Through the curtain of rain, as she looked at Irene, only infatuation remained in her eyes.
Rita herself didn’t realize that her feelings had changed. If she had nothing to hold onto, she would have chosen her own grave at the end of her journey, because from the start, that was her fate. For the greater good, she had to die for someone else.
But now…
Suddenly, Rita felt that living might not be so bad.
Irene smiled back at Rita. Where no one else could see, beads of sweat were forming on her forehead.
She had, of course, used her fate interference ability. But to interfere with the fate of so many people at once still left Irene drenched in sweat.
She could use this power now, though she hadn’t yet mastered it completely.
‘Miracle Weaver’—a terrifying ability that transcended common sense.
In years past, overturning probability was only the tip of the iceberg. Since luck was so hard to detect, Irene had always assumed it was just good fortune.
But after her adventure in Eusebius City, and especially after the Holy King instilled his memories into her, Irene began to realize how terrifying this power was.
After all, it was unheard of—something beyond logic. She’d spent the past few days trying to master it.
Just now was another bold experiment: using ‘Miracle Weaver’ on everyone present. The results were clear.
The more people affected, the more mana it consumed. The greater the miracle, the higher the cost. If she tried to create a miracle beyond her limits, nothing would happen.
For example, this morning, Irene prayed for the sun to rise in the west and set in the east—nothing happened, and no mana was lost.
It was precisely because she had such confidence in ‘Miracle Weaver’ that Irene dared to make this wager. With a downpour soaking all the firewood, there was no way the execution could continue.