The Saintess’s Revelation

Facing the King, Anto wisely refrained from outright refusal, a perfectly natural decision considering his supreme authority within the palace and across the city. His majesty’s power was not to be challenged. Rhys, too, had long understood this dynamic; the Church’s former influence stemmed solely from the Holy See’s sway across the continent, and without that leverage, any pretense of defiance would be utterly baseless.

Dignity held immense value, yet to grandstand without truly assessing one’s capacity to uphold it was nothing more than a blind path to self-destruction. Such a realization prompted Anto to articulate her intentions subtly; she recognized that a direct confrontation between the Church and the Kingdom at this critical juncture was unthinkable. Instead, she had to mend the burgeoning rift between them.

“She didn’t refuse, after all…” someone on the side murmured, a sudden utterance that drew attention. They recalled the last occasion Rhys had stood before the King, who had issued an identical command for him to display his Holy Light, only to be met with a resolute and righteous refusal. Yet, Sister Antolia had chosen a different path.

“Because she is different,” Rhys stated slowly. “She understands what she needs right now, and she recognizes her own leverage. That is why she acts this way.”

“Therefore, that light, for her, serves as a bargaining chip she can wield with anyone.” Pierre, upon hearing these words, initially harbored doubt, yet the moment a radiant glow manifested in the nun’s hand, every other light in the grand hall seemed to fade into obscurity. The brilliance emanating from her was simply too conspicuous, too blindingly dazzling. The nun closed her eyes, and before her, light materialized, but it was not confined to a single point; her entire being began to emit a sacred, ethereal glow.

“Such power…” Knight Commander Greer, standing to one side, was momentarily dumbfounded by the sight of this light. Stationed at the border, he frequently encountered patrolling nuns or Black Church Crusaders, yet their Holy Light had never possessed such immense potency. Typically, aside from a conscious exertion, their divine energy could only be directed inward, upon themselves. But the young woman before him was an anomaly; her light engulfed the entire hall, just as the sacred texts proclaimed: the dominion of light differed from all other elements, for light existed everywhere, capable of permeating every conceivable space. Every soul present in the banquet hall felt the profound strength imbued by that radiance—a palpable power born of faith.

To wield such power, it was widely believed, required the mastery of divine arts, a feat typically reserved for High Priests. Yet, this young girl, with effortless grace, had manifested such immense strength before their very eyes.

“May the Light guide your paths,” Antolia intoned, before slowly opening her eyes. As she lowered her hands, the intense radiance around her began to recede, yet to the astonishment of all present, a soft, lingering glow continued to shroud her form.

“This is truly—most impressive.” Pierre, at this moment, found himself at a loss for words to convey the depth of his astonishment. He had never witnessed a holy spellcaster of such formidable power; even amidst the chaos of war, practitioners of Holy Light rarely exhibited such a profound display of strength. Yet, the notion of such a superhuman existence was not entirely unheard of; indeed, everyone present found their thoughts converging on a singular term, the very word used to describe individuals of such extraordinary caliber—

“‘A Saintess’,” Pierre articulated, his voice sharp as he spun to fix Rhys with a fierce glare. “That’s why you remained so composed, why you chose to reveal this card at precisely this moment… You actually discovered a Saintess, a miracle born from the very essence of Holy Light!”

“It was not I who found her,” Rhys clarified. “Sister Antolia sought out this place on her own accord. She came here to save us.”

“No wonder, no wonder.”

“A Saintess… Is this truly a Saintess?”

“Such power… it’s unbelievable.”

A torrent of whispers erupted through the hall. The moment Antolia unveiled her strength, the onlookers, confronted by such an undeniable miracle, scrambled for an explanation their minds could grasp. The term ‘Saintess’ seemed to be the only fitting answer, for her power was simply too extraordinary, too utterly beyond the realm of the ordinary.

“…With such power, are you called Antolia, Sister?” The King inquired, his gaze fixed upon the beautiful young woman before him.

She nodded in affirmation.

“Yes.”

“Do you hail from a border village?”

“It is a small village named Sinka,” Antolia replied. “Through this power, I protected that village, ensuring it was not razed to the ground during the tragedy three months ago.”

“If you are willing, this power of yours could safeguard many more lives.” The King’s countenance shifted then, revealing not a simple desire, but an intense yearning, a potent avarice:

“Currently, the kingdom’s borders are imperiled; my subjects live in constant dread of our foes. The Demon King’s army has rekindled its might, and our frontiers have suffered grave setbacks. It is at this most critical juncture that you have appeared before me,” the King declared. “I must impress upon you, Miss Antolia, that the Kingdom desperately requires your power. Should you agree, I shall grant any demand you make—wealth, titles, land, all these can be yours. I ask only that you remain within the Deleans Kingdom, serving as a pillar of strength for Deleans, and aid us in resisting the encroaching darkness from beyond the rifts.”

“Resist that encroaching power with this light of yours.” The King finished, then turned his gaze towards Rhys. The Bishop, who had been observing from the side, strode forward without a moment’s hesitation.

“Antolia, what are your thoughts?”

“I… I come from the border, Your Majesty,” the nun began, lifting her head. “I am a Deleansian, a child born and raised amidst the snow-laden forests. To stand before the King of this nation at such a time, I believe, should fill me with immense honor.”

“However, while this power is mine, it does not solely originate from me. Your Majesty, the crisis three months ago might have revealed the decay at our borders, but… in truth, for an entire year prior, I stood on those very frontiers, facing those horrors—the Dark Legion—alongside your esteemed warriors.”

“How could this be…?”

“My adoptive mother was Hillevi, the Witch, a name perhaps known even to Your Majesty. She erected a formidable barrier at the border, and ultimately, she sacrificed herself to maintain it with her very body. I am the one she raised. From the moment I awakened this ability, I have been fighting the encroaching darkness at the border. There, I witnessed countless horrors, so many things that ultimately led me to decide to leave. Your Majesty, perhaps by your command, I could return to the border and continue those same struggles, but I implore you to understand: I am neither a tool nor a weapon. I departed and journeyed here because I have my own reasons, compelling reasons for my actions.”