Chapter 7: Subjugating the Steelback Dragon (Part Three)

“It’s probably not a curse,” Laigaiyas said in a low voice.

“But it is related to Samimi.”

“Hero, spit it out! Where is that mutt Samimi? I’ll drag her back by the hair!” Fabiana shouted, furious.

“What are you trying to say?” Clos asked, her expression darkening as if something was dawning on her.

“Clos, I think you’ve figured it out too. Our stats haven’t dropped. We even leveled up. But our performance in battle is questionable. Think back carefully—our actions during the fight weren’t any different than usual, but one step was missing.” Laigaiyas calmly analyzed.

The group crossed their arms, staring into space, mentally reviewing the fight.

And soon enough, they realized there was something different from before.

That was — Samimi’s pre-battle ritual.

Every time before a mission, Samimi would give everyone a long-winded series of “blessings,” often accompanied by some annoyingly creepy groping.

It was gross.

At that thought, their expressions all soured dramatically.

No way, right?

Could it really be… that their decline in combat effectiveness was because that annoying blonde priest wasn’t there?

The four members of the Hero’s Party fell into an extended silence.

No one had anything to say.

They had already kicked her out — and it had been a unanimous decision.

They couldn’t shamelessly ask her to come back, could they?

And with Samimi’s petty and twisted personality… if they did go crawling back, who knows what disgusting expression she’d make?

They’d rather die than beg her.

But without her support, even slaying a Steelback Dragon had become an exhausting ordeal.

Now their power was barely on par with any standard advanced adventuring party.

How could they still claim to be a “Hero’s Party”?

“Let’s finish off the Steelback Dragon first. We’ll talk about the rest afterward,” said Laigaiyas.

“I’ll take the first watch. You all get some rest.”

No one objected.

With nothing more to say, everyone quietly slipped into their tents.

Laigaiyas sat by the fire to stand guard — though truthfully, she couldn’t sleep.

Her thoughts were a chaotic mess.

But she wasn’t the only one — inside the tents, the other three lay awake as well, staring blankly at the ceilings.

They’d always thought of that filthy priest as just another replaceable, low-level healer — dead weight that could be swapped out at any time.

Who would’ve imagined… she was the core of the team?

No one had paid attention to Samimi’s blessing rituals before.

They’d just taken them for granted.

Now, without her buff spells, they were no different from ordinary adventurers.

What Hero’s Party?

They were just a bunch of nobodies now.

The campfire burned out.

Dawn arrived.

The sound of urgent hoofbeats echoed in the distance, making Laigaiyas, who was meditating with her eyes closed, snap alert.

“Hero! Bad news!” A royal scout rode up in a hurry.

“What happened?” Laigaiyas asked.

“The Steelback Dragon is heading toward Melon Town! It’s a trade route hub with no city walls and minimal guard presence. The town is full of inns and hotels, and even during the slowest seasons, there are thousands of people there. Trade caravans from all directions rest around the town.”

“Damn it. This is bad. We move now — we must stop it before it reaches the town.”

Laigaiyas immediately woke the others and rushed off with the scout.

Let’s rewind the clock to a few days earlier.

This was Samimi’s first day reporting for duty in Melon Town.

Though the place was called a “local chapel,” Samimi quickly realized this was no remote village.

Thanks to its location at the intersection of multiple major trade routes, it saw constant traffic day and night.

The town’s economy revolved around catering to merchants — inns, restaurants, and cheap travel supplies.

In short, it was a wealthy and prosperous town.

Walking through the streets, Samimi noticed a lot of suspicious or hostile stares, but no one did anything.

Life here moved fast, and people came from all walks of life — who knew what kind of dangerous people might be hiding in those merchant carriages?

So, the appearance of a “criminal nun” like her didn’t cause much of a stir.

However, when she arrived at the town chapel on the outskirts, it had none of the town’s lively atmosphere.

The grounds held an old cathedral and several stone houses, surrounded by a short wall enclosing a large plot of land — all belonging to the church.

Upon entering, she realized half of the grounds were a graveyard, flanked on both sides by rows of crosses and gravestones.

“Ohh, praise be! Headquarters finally sent someone!”

An old nun had been the sole caretaker of this place.

When she saw Samimi, she nearly danced with joy.

After handing over a ring of chapel keys, the old nun immediately went to pack up.

She retired on the spot, heading home to enjoy her golden years.

And just like that, Samimi — a single disgraced nun — was left in charge of the entire rundown chapel.

But she wasn’t worried at all.

After all, she was a transmigrator from a novel, someone who had fallen into this world via a god-tier trope.

She was practically euphoric.

“Child, there’s a set of old equipment I used back in the day, under the bed in my room. If you’re ever in danger, take a look.”

The old nun came back a few steps to give one final word of advice.

“Thank you, Elder Sister. Please rest assured — I will protect Melon Town.”

Samimi personally escorted her to the carriage.

As the cart pulled away, a translucent game-like interface suddenly popped up in front of Samimi.

“?”

She looked left and right — none of the nearby pedestrians noticed anything strange.

Clearly, she was the only one who could see it.

Across the top, three large characters read: [Virtue & Evil Value]

(Doing good will grant Virtue Points and decrease Evil Points, unlocking the Holy skill tree.)

(Doing evil will grant Evil Points and decrease Virtue Points, unlocking the Corruption skill tree.)

“That’s… absurdly easy to understand,” Samimi muttered.

Was this the kind of system every transmigrator got?

If so, hers seemed a bit too simple.

But she wasn’t surprised.

Her expression stayed calm — she’d seen this sort of thing before.

After all, this kind of fantasy light novel world borrowed heavily from traditional Western fantasy, but used video game systems as its base.

Mana bars, classes, skill trees, stat screens — even her role as a “support-type priest” was a common game trope.

In short:

Do good things → unlock Holy Skills.

Do bad things → unlock Dark Skills.

And apparently, the two trees were mutually exclusive — one path only.

Still, even without a system, Samimi wasn’t just anyone.

She was a rare, top-tier support-type unit, a “human rights card” with a skill list full of powerful buffs and enhancements.

She had zero problems protecting herself.

So for now, she had no real interest in the system.

She decided to go back and tidy up her new home — she’d be living here for a while.

On her way back, she noticed a crowd gathered at the entrance to a side alley.

Samimi squeezed her way through and saw a half-dead beastkin slave girl with two small horns lying on the ground.

Her legs were broken, and she still wore iron shackles.

“What a classic fantasy world plotline,” Samimi sighed.