The blade fell, cleaving the void.
Aimoer didn’t even have time to react before everything went black.
No pain, no sensation of tearing—nothing at all.
‘Is this what death feels like?’
Calmly, Aimoer floated in the void, waiting for the moment her consciousness would fade.
“Miss… Miss…”
After who knows how long, Aimoer suddenly felt a shaking sensation.
She jolted awake, and the hazy image of a café appeared before her eyes.
‘Where is this? Did I get transported again?’
She turned her head and met the waiter’s troubled expression.
“Um… we’re closing now.”
Aimoer blinked, only then realizing that everything just now had been a hollow illusion.
She touched her neck, a wave of fear washing over her.
If that blade had really come down, she wouldn’t even have a speck left.
Then Aimoer’s face flushed red.
She quickly waved her hand and ran outside.
‘How infuriating—I didn’t even notice that last slash was an illusion. I made such a fool of myself.’
But—
Aimoer reconsidered.
Why had someone created such a massive illusion just for her?
She couldn’t figure it out.
Her head ached, and she thought it best to return to the dorm and rest before trying to piece it together.
Too much had happened today.
Her brain cells were nearly fried.
So Aimoer quickened her pace.
Back in the dorm, Aimoer flopped onto the bed with a thud.
Without any dignity, she hugged the blanket and rolled twice, then slowly lifted her head, looking utterly empty.
“So tired.”
She muttered to herself, sat up, grabbed the paper bag, pouted, and wore a regretful expression.
“Boo hoo… after all that trouble, the ice has melted by now. It definitely won’t taste good.”
She had been looking forward to that bite so much, and in the end, she didn’t get to eat it because of that damned illusion.
She was so furious she wanted to run out right now and curse at the church’s statue.
Wasn’t it said that the Holy Light would protect its people?
Then why wasn’t it protecting her?
She puffed out her cheeks in anger and reached into the bag.
The cold touch of her fingertips made her shiver.
“What’s going on?”
Aimoer’s drooping tail suddenly shot upright.
She quickly pulled out her little cake and sweet drink, her face full of shock.
It was cold!
Still steaming!
Aimoer’s eyes lit up, but she quickly calmed down.
There were traces of magic on it.
This level of ice magic didn’t seem like the simple everyday magic a normal dessert shop would use.
She quickly picked up the bag to check if there was an ice pack inside, but only found a crumpled piece of paper at the bottom.
Cautiously, she pinched the paper, scanned it with a succubus detection spell, and then carefully opened it.
Inside was still that silver inverted pentagram pendant, and—
A new note.
[Heretic, Naya sends her regards]
‘Damn it, why is this persistent thing back again?’
Aimoer cursed a few times under her breath, disgustedly tossing it aside.
The [Void] had left a huge shock on her.
Now that she knew this was Naya’s doing, Aimoer actually felt more fear creep in.
‘This better not be some cliché plot about a domineering, mysterious god falling in love with me.’
She glanced at the little drink and cake on the table, carefully inspected them to make sure they were fine, then took a tiny bite.
‘So delicious. I could die happy now.’
After savoring that sweetness, Aimoer let out a long sigh.
Her eyes narrowed into slits, her tail wagging with joy.
She felt that all the grievances she had suffered today were worth it.
After a few bites of tiramisu, Aimoer seemed to find her confidence again.
She looked at the crumpled paper she had tossed aside, and finally picked it back up.
“Hmph, it’s just an evil god. What’s there to be afraid of? If they have the guts…”
As Aimoer said this, her mind flashed back to that world-shattering slash from before, and her voice trailed off.
“Time changes everything. One day, I’ll make you pay.”
She deeply felt her own weakness.
Most of the time, she could only live meekly.
But one day, she would definitely find a chance to turn the tables.
She would make these pretentious bastards kneel and apologize to her.
With a belly full of resentment, Aimoer devoured the cake and sweet drink, then fell into a deep, satisfied sleep on the bed.
In the two days leading up to the graduation ceremony, nothing too troublesome happened, finally giving poor Aimoer a few days of peace.
Now, in front of the Most Holy Abbey’s auditorium, Aimoer stood at the very front of the nun formation and let out a long breath.
Six years.
The day of graduation had finally arrived.
Over the past two days, she had been poring over various ancient texts—on one hand, to prepare thoroughly for her trip to the City of Purification; on the other, trying to track down any trace of Naya, though in the end, she found nothing.
“El, I’m so nervous.”
Standing next to Aimoer was, as always, the hot-and-cuddly blue-haired girl Senteli, fidgeting with her fingers, looking uneasy.
“Relax, let nature take its course. You’ll get good results.”
Aimoer offered a perfunctory comfort.
There was no need to guess—this girl was definitely first place.
What on earth was she nervous about?
‘Better to think about what I need to do when I get to the City of Purification.’
“Ahem! Silence!”
The old Pope on stage coughed twice.
The Holy Light radiating from this old geezer was so bright it nearly blinded her.
Just standing here, Aimoer felt a faint burning sensation.
‘Can’t I just go hide in the back? It would be hilarious if I died right here.’
Aimoer shuffled back a little, inwardly cursing the bastard who made her stand in the front row, along with several generations of his ancestors.
“Now, I will announce the final exam rankings.”
The Pope spoke slowly, word by word, then gestured.
A cardinal beside him brought forth a silver tray bearing ten pure white silver crosses.
This was the part of every graduation ceremony that drew the most attention from the outside world.
The top ten in the rankings would be personally awarded by the Pope, receiving a token of sacred heritage—this pure white cross—and gaining the qualification to compete for the next Saintess.
Aimoer didn’t think this had anything to do with her.
‘Are you kidding? I’m a succubus. It’s good enough that I managed to graduate alive. And now I’m supposed to become a Saintess?’
‘I wouldn’t even dare dream that!’
“First place in the rankings—Senteli!”
The Pope on stage began reading the list.
Unsurprisingly, Senteli was the top nun of this class.
Aimoer watched her with a professional smile and applauded.
‘How nice. The big warm blanket is about to get even hotter. From now on, just getting close to her might melt me.’
Watching Senteli receive the token, bow, and step down, Aimoer began to zone out.
‘Whatever comes next has nothing to do with me anyway. I might as well clear my mind.’
And so, at the sacred graduation ceremony, Aimoer began pondering the meaning of life.
Until—
“Sixth place in the rankings—Aimoer!”
Zzz…
“El, El! They’re calling you.”
“Huh… what?”
A pair of very hot hands pushed her, startling her so much she jumped.
“Sixth place in the rankings—Aimoer!”
The Pope on stage repeated it.
Aimoer finally snapped to attention, frozen in place for a second.
“Huh?!”
Was there another Aimoer in this church?
Aimoer swallowed hard.
She stared at the Pope on stage, whose Holy Light was overflowing, and her legs involuntarily went weak.
‘Is this for real? Me, a Saintess? But I’m a succubus!’