Two years after she had resigned herself to being unable to use magic, the Church found her at the orphanage when she was seven years old and took her back.
Saintess.
Book.
Citizen.
After undergoing their special Magic Orb Test, Furnicia discovered that her Magic Attribute was the extremely rare “Holy” attribute.
According to the Chronicles, in the two thousand years recorded to date, only one person had ever possessed this Magic Attribute.
And that person was none other than the current Church’s supreme and sole spiritual faith—the Lord.
After a year of instruction from a Liturgical Teacher hired by the Church, she donned the black Nun Hood, becoming the Church’s symbolic embodiment of faith.
She didn’t know how to explain this Holy Attribute of magic.
The Church’s Chronicles contained almost no records about it, let alone any related magic.
However, it was roughly understood that this Holy Attribute magic was auxiliary in nature.
“Keep order later. Don’t wander around,”
a rough male voice called out from outside the carriage just as Furnicia’s thoughts wandered through these trivial memories.
Hearing this, she tilted her head to look outside, only to see a Demon Race knight clad entirely in deep black armor walking backward against the direction of the procession.
Seeing this, she slightly lifted the hanging curtain and gazed toward the front of the Demon Lord Army’s march.
The sun was setting in the west.
The slowly dying sunset bathed the land in red and bleak hues.
In the distance, Furnicia spotted towering city walls.
Alani.
A military fortress town established by the Theocracy to defend against the Demon Race’s invasion.
Seeming to recall something, a trace of melancholy appeared on Furnicia’s delicate face, like that of an exquisite porcelain doll.
Alani was located at the Theocracy’s border.
In other words, once she passed through this town’s gates, she would completely enter Demon Territory.
At that thought, a wave of unease about the future welled up in Furnicia’s heart.
***
Before long, the carriage entered Alani’s heavy stone gate.
Perhaps due to the influx of Demon Race, the town was filled only with the sound of the marching troops.
Regarding this somewhat unusual silence, Furnicia peeked through a slit in the curtain and saw the main street lined densely with citizens.
Their faces varied, but mostly wore frowns with serious, somber expressions.
“It’s the Saintess!”
She didn’t know whose voice it was.
When the brief exclamation rang out amidst the crowded crowd, it was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, instantly rippling.
“Ah! It really is the Saintess.”
“Saintess.”
“Saintess…”
Listening to the citizens’ voices outside the carriage, Furnicia slightly pulled up the curtain and, with practiced grace and dignity, bowed her body forward, then traced a proper cross over her chest in response.
The previously noisy and chaotic voices quickly subsided, and the citizens silently knelt down, making the sign of the cross in prayer.
Such solemn treatment was something even the Pope of the Theocracy could not enjoy; this was the Saintess, symbolizing the Church’s highest faith.
Come to think of it, Furnicia didn’t know whether this was merely coincidence.
The Church here bore a striking resemblance to that Church over there.
Though there were some differences, they were largely similar.
This seriously made her suspect it was no coincidence.
Perhaps…
Perhaps that “Lord” had also come from that place, preaching devoutly as a Church believer in this unfamiliar land.
If she thought that way, everything became extremely reasonable.
Especially considering they both possessed the rare “Holy” Magic Attribute.
Of course, these were only her guesses since there was currently no direct or indirect evidence to support them.
The moon hung high.
Furnicia rose from the small single bathtub, then, wrapped in a towel and still wet, stepped on the ceramic tiles toward the square floor-length mirror in the bathroom.
Long golden hair fell beside her fair, delicate face.
Her slender eyes and rosy lips, combined with skin as white as snow and translucent, reflected her upbringing in the northern lands.
She took down the cotton pure white nightgown hanging on the rack and slowly put it on.
The cuffs and hem of the nightgown were adorned with five layers of lace, and the neckline was decorated with white satin ribbons.
At this moment, she was housed in the Governor’s Hall in Alani.
Of course, this was by the will of that Demon Lord Dalinan.
Otherwise, given the attitudes of the other Demons toward her, it would be inconceivable that she’d even have a place to sleep, let alone not be bullied or humiliated.
Rinse.
A breeze blew in through the half-open window, stirring the skirt of her nightgown.
Outside, palm-like leaves rustled softly.
The night was still young.
In the dim room, only a Western-style candleholder emitted a faint light.
To be honest, Furnicia felt lucky to have a private little bathroom.
Otherwise, she’d have to wash in the public bathhouse, where she’d inevitably encounter those Demon Race individuals.
Although bound by Demon Lord Dalinan’s authority, those Demons wouldn’t inflict real harm on her, but that didn’t mean she was willing to face their hostile expressions.
After all, she was not an M.
Picking up the candleholder from the bedside cabinet, Furnicia paced toward the balcony.
This place still maintained the inconvenient medieval era without electricity.
Speaking of which, among the few magics she knew, there was a convenient spell to illuminate the darkness.
However…
It consumed not only magic power but also stamina.
The physical exhaustion caused by using magic power made her quite reluctant to use it, so unless absolutely necessary, she basically never employed it.
Although magic was an incredible thing in this world, it was not as convenient as imagined.
At least not for Furnicia.
Stars and the moon floated in the sky, their gentle light illuminating the night.
Leaning against the balcony railing, Furnicia gazed up at the clear starry sky.
A warm, comfortable summer breeze brushed past.
Just as she was enjoying the dazzling night sky filled with countless stars, a black shadow suddenly passed across her vision.
The shadow hovered in the air, flying leisurely straight toward outside the town.
“Dalinan…”
Furnicia naturally recognized the owner of that shadow.
She didn’t know why Dalinan was out so late.
With a little confusion, she thought for a moment, then simply pushed the matter from her mind.
Her understanding of Dalinan was limited.
Apart from the day the Theocracy was defeated, she had hardly ever seen Dalinan.
And on the rare occasions she did, it was just her back.