Chapter 7: Are You a Saint?

“Hmm-hmm~”

The dense canopy swayed under the breeze, a sea of green rippling in the sunlight. 

Golden rays pierced through the gaps in the leaves, fragmenting into slivers that danced across the girl’s porcelain cheeks. 

The delicate, scattered patterns seemed to beg for someone to lean close and blow them away in a single breath.

The sun’s warmth enveloped her, and the girl hummed a carefree tune, each note as light as the air around her.

She plucked a dandelion, puffing its seeds into the wind, then nibbled on a wild berry from a nearby bush—only to wince as bitterness flooded her mouth, tears welling up with a soft, “Wah-wah.”

“Life is truly wonderful,” she murmured.

Drawing in a deep breath of the forest’s sweet, damp air, Noi’s smile bloomed from the depths of her heart.

The hospital’s sprawling grounds had offered ample space for her walks, but after four or five years of the same routine, day after day, even Noi had grown weary. 

It wasn’t just physical exhaustion—it was a fatigue of the senses, a dullness that craved something vivid, something alive.

Now, standing in this vibrant, healthy body, her feet firmly planted on the earth, embracing the pulse of nature itself, Noi’s spirit soared with joy.

“Gurgle.”

Her stomach growled, a sharp reminder of hunger. 

Noi pressed a hand to her flat abdomen, cloaked beneath her cape, feeling the insistent pang of need.

The high-intensity skirmish in the goblin camp had drained her, and it dawned on her that she hadn’t eaten in a full day. 

Without sustenance, her strength was waning, and the weight in her chest seemed to grow heavier, prompting her to tug the fabric of her cloak tighter around herself.

‘Ugh, I need to get to Wagner Town and find something to eat,’ she thought, a touch of worry creeping in. 

The currency of this world was likely different from her past life, and she was utterly penniless.

Surely she couldn’t resort to dining and dashing…

With a flicker of thought, she summoned the system. 

Having absorbed the souls of the goblins and their leader, the system had awakened, though its functions were limited to three: Attributes, Skills, and Inventory.

Tapping “Attributes,” a crystalline blue screen materialized, displaying Noi’s current stats.

[Noi Vellrich]

Soul: B– (Demon Spirit, Seraph · Incomplete)  

Strength: D+  

Agility: C+  

Constitution: C-  

Magic: D-  

Attribute Points: 4 (88%)  

[Note: Function Guide (Click for Details)]  

After skimming the guide, Noi pieced together the meaning of the panel.

Her soul’s strength was denoted first, with the parenthetical terms—Demon Spirit and Seraph—indicating her two unique abilities. 

Attributes progressed through major tiers (S to F, eight in total) and minor tiers (++, +, neutral, -, –, five per major tier), each major tier marking a qualitative leap and each minor tier a quantitative shift. 

A newborn started at F, while an adult with basic training could reach D.

By this measure, Noi’s attributes were impressive, save for her lagging Magic stat.

The percentage beside her Attribute Points represented “experience,” which she could condense into points to enhance herself by collecting souls or other energies beneficial to the system.

The guide’s final note mentioned that the terms in parentheses could be explored further. 

Focusing her mind, Noi delved into the details of Demon Spirit and Seraph · Incomplete.

[Ability: Demon Spirit]

Description: When collecting the spirit of any being, there is a chance to seize its abilities and attribute values.  

Ability Slot: None  

Attribute Points: 4 (88%)  

[Ability: Seraph · Incomplete]

Description: ??? (Ability is incomplete, information unavailable)  

Ability Slots: Michael (Warrior Angel), Gabriel (Guardian Angel), Raphael (Healer Angel)  

Note: Due to the ability’s incomplete state, you may currently select only one branch for cultivation. 

The chosen branch will be moved to the “Skills” tab for development.  

‘So, you’re the culprit behind those Attribute Points,’ Noi mused.

She grasped the gist of Demon Spirit but found Seraph’s vagueness troubling. 

‘Which branch should I choose?’

After much deliberation, she decided to hold off until necessity demanded a choice. 

For now, she allocated her four Attribute Points, updating her panel.

[Noi Vellrich]

Soul: B– (Demon Spirit, Seraph · Incomplete)  

Strength: C–  

Agility: B–  

Constitution: C-  

Magic: D-  

Attribute Points: 0 (88%)  

As the points took effect, Noi’s heart pounded fiercely, pumping a surge of energy through her veins. 

The sensation was peculiar—not an external boost, but as if this power had always been hers, locked away until the Attribute Points, like keys, released it through her pulsing heart.

The snow-haired girl stood in the forest, eyes closed, sensing the subtle shifts within her. 

After a long moment, she exhaled a cloud of stale breath.

Outwardly, she looked unchanged, but she could feel the increase in strength and speed. 

She’d prioritized Strength and Agility because the guide had emphasized the transformative leap of a major tier. 

For now, enhancing her immediate combat ability trumped Constitution and Magic.

‘Wait… where am I?’

Noi blinked at the unfamiliar grove of red maples, her antenna-like hair swaying in confusion. 

Absorbed in the system, she’d wandered off the path without noticing.

Opening the system’s Inventory, she found the vials of shadow spider venom, an explosive orb, and a letter addressed to a teahouse. 

The map and dagger were pinned to the top of the blue screen for easy access.

Retrieving the map, Noi traced the marked route, setting herself back on course for Wagner Town.

‘Gotta hurry… Adding those points made me even hungrier.’

***

“Argh… it hurts so much. Help… someone, please save me…”

On a desolate plain, a boy in tattered burlap leaned against a rock, clutching his arm where blood oozed freely. 

His sleeve hung empty, and a closer look revealed his left arm had been severed, the stump still tethered by sinew—a gruesome sight.

“Save me…” 

His lips were ashen, his trembling hand barely staunching the wound. 

Blood loss was dragging him toward death, yet survival instinct drove his feeble cries.

As his vision blurred, a petite figure in a black cloak approached. 

The blood-red eyes peering from beneath the hood, paired with the dark garb, made the boy think Death itself had come.

‘So, I’m really going to die…’

Memories flickered like a carousel, and he found a strange peace in the thought of release. 

Closing his eyes, he awaited the end.

“How did your arm get severed?”

Was this the judgment of some underworld deity? 

The boy, fighting pain, answered the gentle voice that seemed to come from nowhere.

“Bandits… they bullied me. Today… they cut off my arm… treated me like a dog, chasing me around.”

The voice fell silent. 

Having confessed his “cause of death,” the boy braced for his descent into the abyss.

But fate had other plans. 

A warm, tingling sensation spread through the stump of his arm. 

Opening his eyes, he saw the cloaked figure’s hand pressed over the wound, staunching the blood with a soft glow.

“Who… are you?” he whispered weakly.

The figure tilted her head, the hood slipping back to reveal cascading snow-white hair and a face of breathtaking beauty. 

The boy gasped, “H-Heaven… an angel?”

“Hm? I’m not an angel. I just heard your cries and came to help,” Noi replied softly.

“Mind if I try something bold?”

The girl, saintly in his eyes, blinked her crimson eyes at him. 

He nodded eagerly. 

“No problem, do whatever you think is best!”

“Alright then…”

With his consent, Noi lifted his severed arm, tearing away the blood-soaked burlap. 

Under the gentle light from her palm, and to the boy’s astonishment, the arm reattached seamlessly to his shoulder.

“By the goddess Efreya… are you a saint of the Church?”

The boy flexed his restored arm, finding it not only functional but more agile than before. 

His gaze toward the cloaked girl grew reverent.

In his limited understanding, only the Church’s hierarchs, saints, or apostles could perform miracles like reattaching limbs. 

Though this was “merely” reconnection, the impact was no less profound than regrowing an arm.

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘saint,'” Noi said, wiping blood from her hands with a few leaves, shaking her head.

“Oh… well, thank you for saving me—and for putting my arm back.”

The boy wanted to say more, but his face paled as a grim realization hit. 

“Quick, you have to go! The bandits are coming for me!”

He pushed her gently, urgency in his eyes. 

Noi pulled her hood up and slipped away.

Moments later, a band of bandits, clad in eclectic garb with headscarves, galloped up on horseback. 

Their leader kicked the trembling boy. 

“Heh, what’s with you, kid? Thought your arm was gone for good. You were screaming like a pig earlier, but it looks fine now.”

The boy quivered, too scared to retort.

The leader sniffed the air, catching a faint, sweet scent. 

Scanning the surroundings, he growled, “I saw a white-haired woman near you when I rode up. Where’d she go?”

He loomed over the boy, who shook his head. 

“N-No woman. You must’ve seen wrong.”

“Bullshit! Think I’m blind? Speak, or I’ll chop your arm off again!”

The bandits drew their blades, and the boy flinched, eyes darting, his left hand clenched tight.

Seeing his hesitation, the leader pressed a knife to his arm. 

The boy caved and blurted, “Alright, alright! She went that way,” he said, guilt flickering as he pointed in Noi’s direction.

The bandits exchanged wicked grins and spurred their horses toward her trail.