Anna had beco the Saintess of Purification.
At those words, Simon felt the blood freeze in his veins. He hadn’t even fully escaped the nightmare of Flema, and now his own mother had beco a Saintess herself? He was too stunned to speak.
"...If that’s true, then why did Ms. Anna look like she was in so much pain?" Lethe challenged, her tone sharp.
Richard nodded grimly. "It’s impossible for a human body to accept two different Essences of a Saintess at once. Anna was originally the Saintess of Miracles. Though the essence was removed, its remnants still linger within her. When the new essence entered, her body began to violently reject it."
At the tender age of eleven, Anna had beco the youngest Saintess in history, a testant to her natural talent and high compatibility. It wasn’t surprising that the Essence of Purification, searching for its next host, had chosen her now that she was an ordinary person.
The two essences were now at war within her body, and she was dying, unable to fully awaken as either Saintess.
Listening to the explanation, Simon asked anxiously, "So what’s going to happen to her?"
Richard’s lips quivered. He was using every ounce of his strength to maintain his composure. "Her body can’t withstand this. Even if we suppress the power, she won’t last more than three months."
The cruel reality crashed down on Simon, and he hung his head. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.
"However, there is one option," Richard said, and both their heads snapped up. "The Essence Removal Surgery that Anna underwent to beco an ordinary person. We have to do it again. If we can sohow remove the Essence of Purification, the remnants of the first one shouldn’t cause such a severe reaction."
Simon shot to his feet. "Who can do it?"
"The one who perford the original procedure has passed away, but I was present for the entire surgery. I still rember every detail perfectly." Richard tapped his forehead. "The surgery is possible. But it requires an ingredient that cannot be obtained in the Dark Alliance."
"It’s in the Holy Federation, isn’t it?"
"Yes. The Federation’s sacred artifact, the Tree of Life." Richard’s eyes flickered toward Lethe. "We need the white leaves that grow only on that tree."
The mont he finished speaking, Lethe was on her feet and out the door. Richard watched her go, a quiet sigh escaping his lips.
A short while later, she burst back into the house.
"Two weeks!" she panted. "The broker is adjusting the schedule. He can get us into the Holy Federation in two weeks. I’ll go and retrieve the ingredient."
Richard shook his head. "No, this is our family’s issue. We can’t inconvenience you any further..."
"You said all that knowing I was listening. Don’t give that now," Lethe retorted, striding into the master bedroom. She stood silently, gazing at Anna’s still form, her breathing shallow beneath the Jet-Black bandages.
A deep resolve hardened her eyes. "I don’t care what any of you say. I’m going for my teacher, and for her alone."
"I’m going with you, Lethe," Simon declared, rising to his feet.
Lethe stared at him in disbelief. "Huh? Are you insane? A necromancer going to the Holy Federation?"
"You’re in the Dark Alliance right now, aren’t you? Why can’t I do the opposite?" Simon clenched his fists. "My mother’s life is on the line. I can’t just sit here and do nothing."
Lethe crossed her arms. "Your affection is touching, but do you have any idea what the Federation is like right now? There’s a top-level security alert because of the Witch of Death incident, and heretics are burning villages and killing people. The entire Federation is crawling with red-eyed Heretic Inquisitors. If they catch a necromancer, it’s imdiate execution. And I, the one who brought you, would be hanged without a second thought, Efnel be damned."
She jabbed a finger at him. "When the Inquisitors show up, how are you going to prove you’re not a necromancer?"
Richard nodded in agreent. "She’s right. Your sentint is admirable, but the situation in the Holy Federation is dire. I’ve heard security is much tighter than it is here."
"I’m confident that I won’t get caught," Simon said, holding out his palm. "I should have ntioned this sooner, but..."
The power that blood in his palm made both Lethe and Richard recoil in astonishnt. The white light radiating from his left hand was unmistakable.
"The truth is, I can use Divinity."
The room erupted into chaos.
---
Lethe contacted the broker again, asking if he could procure a fake identity for a male in his late teens. If he’d said no, she would have gone alone, but as it turned out, the broker had one identity left: a teenage acolyte. An acolyte was a novice priest who had just unlocked their divine power.
The deciding factor, however, was Anna’s own words. When she had briefly regained consciousness, Simon confessed everything. Anna was worried about him going to the Holy Federation, but she was overjoyed to hear he could wield Divinity.
"Half of you is made of your mother, Simon," she had whispered. "I want you to take an interest in the place where I was born and lived."
After much deliberation, Lethe had no choice but to agree.
’I’m sorry, Goddess,’ she prayed silently. To bring such an impure being into the holy land, even to save her benefactor... She would have to add three months of fasting to her penance upon her return to Efnel.
To convincingly play the part of an acolyte, Simon agreed to take lessons from Lethe for the next two weeks. They climbed a low hill behind the ruins of his ho, a place he often visited. It was secluded and spacious, making it the perfect spot for their training.
Lethe paused, genuinely impressed by the scenery. Colorful wildflowers blood in the lush green fields, and a cool breeze carried their sweet fragrance. She had been taught that the lands of the Dark Alliance were cursed, barren, and foul-slling, but this was nothing like what they said at Efnel. Even in the Holy Federation, few places had preserved such natural beauty.
"I’m in your hands," Simon said with a smile.
Lethe glared at him, then sighed, her shoulders slumping. Teaching white magic to a necromancer. How had her life co to this?
"Alright, let’s begin." She knelt respectfully at his feet.
’Huh?’ As Simon stood there, dumbfounded, her expression soured. She gestured downward with her finger.
"What are you staring at? Kneel, you idiot!"
He awkwardly knelt beside her. She irritably swept a lock of hair from her face.
"Ugh, having to teach you every little thing is so annoying. From now on, this is how we begin all our training. A pious mind stems from a pious posture."
"Is a pious mind necessary to generate Divinity?"
"Of course it is! Divinity cos from faith in the Goddess. Now, quiet down and let’s begin. Mutual greetings."
In her kneeling position, she folded her hands over her navel and bowed her head respectfully. Despite her usual wild streak, her posture now exuded a profound grace and dignity. Simon, slightly surprised, did his best to mimic her.
Next, Lethe recited a prayer. Simon clasped his hands and listened in silence. With that, the pre-lesson ritual was complete. She opened her eyes, a satisfied look on her face.
"So? Do you feel a bit more pious before the great Goddess now?"
"Not at all."
His legs were just cramping. As Simon shifted uncomfortably, she shrieked.
"Don’t move! I’ll smack you upside the head! At Efnel, if you so much as twitch a toe during prayer, they drop a boulder on your knees. You do not move. Got it?"
"Ah, got it."
This was going to be difficult. To Simon, born and raised in the Dark Alliance, it was an incomprehensible formality, but he decided to respect it as part of her culture.
"Good." She crossed her arms. "Show the Divinity you used before."
Simon nodded and held out his left hand. He focused, gathering his concentration.
’Co on, co on, co on.’
But with Lethe watching him so intently, he grew nervous. The Divinity wouldn’t appear.
"Well, it’s only natural that you can’t," she sneered.
"I can’t control it at will yet. What’s the problem?"
"Faith," she answered instantly. "Only faith in the great Goddess is the source of Divinity."
"But I generated it before without any faith in the Goddess."
"Well, you must have gotten lucky!" she snapped. "It’s not working now, is it? From now on, stop relying on luck and do it the Efnel way. This is the official thod, the foundation, and the truth."
Lethe took a scripture from her backpack. She explained that faith was the first priority and began to drone on about the creation myth: the great Goddess bringing order to chaos, creating light and darkness, the continents, the animals, and finally, humans. Those who believed were saved; those who didn’t were cruelly punished.
After more than two hours of this, Lethe looked at Simon and grinned.
"Do you now feel the greatness of the Goddess deep in your heart?"
"Um..."
Not in the slightest.
No matter how many passages she recited, the words didn’t resonate with him. It sounded less like greatness and more like a myth. When he thought of the Goddess, only one phrase ca to mind.
"Because the great Goddess commanded it so."
Flema’s reason for attacking Kizen. All it stirred in him was a strange hostility.
"Sorry," he said. "I don’t feel anything like that."
"Haaaah." Lethe clutched her forehead and sighed as if the world were ending. ’What am I doing? This is like preaching to a brick wall.’ The sight of herself, reading scriptures to a necromancer, felt utterly pathetic.
"Keep this in mind," she said, her voice dripping with ice. "If you don’t show the progress I expect in two weeks, I’m going to the Holy Federation alone. I’d rather die than let you drag down with you."
"I know." Simon stared at his palm, lost in thought. "...Divinity cos from faith in the Goddess."
"That’s right."
"Faith." He considered it. Operating Jet-Black required ’will’. Perhaps faith and will were two sides of the sa coin.
He focused all his senses. Faith.
Not faith in a goddess.
’I will save my mother. I will generate Divinity. I will go to the Holy Federation. And I...’
An absolute, unshakable faith in himself.
’...can do anything!’
’WHOOOOSH!’
Lethe let out a terrified gasp. She, who was always so poised, lost her balance and tumbled backward. A large, dazzling ball of Divinity was blazing in Simon’s left hand.
"Is this good enough?" he asked with a grin.
The one and only. A necromancer who could wield Divinity had just been born.
User Comments
0 comments from readers