Theocracy of Saint Margaret.
Holy Capital Fafniya.
The sky, shrouded by thick, heavy clouds, was so dark it seemed ominous.
On the stone-paved streets, blood, tainted with a murky hue, flowed into the rainwater like a river, eventually vanishing into the slowly sloping gutters.
Inside the Sanctuary
The once magnificent hall, adorned with vibrant and solemn religious murals and sculptures, had now been reduced to a ruinous wreck.
A massive hole was shattered open in the towering stained-glass ceiling.
Torrents of rain poured down through the breach.
In the center of the crumbling hall, dozens of Church Knights stood gathered, swords in hand.
Their armor, once gleaming silver-white, was now dulled and marred with dents and cracks.
The knights stood back to back.
Though their faces were weary, their eyes still burned with unyielding resolve.
They glared fiercely at the invaders encircling them, showing no sign of fear despite being heavily outnumbered.
In the middle of the knights stood a petite girl.
The dim light in the hall illuminated her unbelievably pale face, suffused with a holy aura.
Framed by her lush golden hair was a delicate visage, and a pair of crystal-clear, astonishingly blue eyes.
The sounds of battle outside gradually faded, until only the rain falling through the broken stained glass echoed in the hall.
“It seems it’s over.”
A cold, somewhat amused female voice echoed down from the shadowed throne above.
The knights instinctively tightened their grip on their sword hilts and cast angry glances upward.
Clack, clack, clack…
The sharp sound of footsteps on the floor came from the throne.
A young woman in a black formal dress, appearing about seventeen years old, slowly stepped out from the shadows cast by the throne.
Darlian Sasha Lissti.
She was the Demon Lord leading the Demon Lord Army’s invasion into the Kingdom of Humanity.
Standing on the high steps, Darlian looked down on the girl at the center of the Church Knights.
Her slightly parted cherry lips bore a seductive hue.
“It looks like you’re utterly defeated, Saintess—Finihiya Hilesfiliana.”
The girl was the Saintess, the symbol of supreme spirit and purity within the Theocracy of Saint Margaret.
The light in Finihiya’s eyes dimmed noticeably.
Defeated…
Though unwilling to admit it, the grim reality forced Finihiya to accept the truth.
As the last bastion of humanity, the Holy Capital Fafniya boasted formidable and excellent defenses.
For years it had withstood the relentless onslaughts of the Demon Lord Army, standing tall on the continent and repeatedly crushing their morale.
But tonight, all that was about to come to an end.
While most still slumbered sweetly, the Demon Lord Army had breached the city walls.
Like the thick, rolling black clouds above, their numbers swiftly spread across the entire city.
The Church Knights hastily organized defenses that proved too thin, quickly overwhelmed by the vast Demon Lord Army.
Finihiya raised a bitter smile on one side of her face.
Just as she was about to give the final command to the knights, a creaking sound suddenly echoed behind her—the door being pushed open.
The heavy, solid Sanctuary doors swung wide.
A slightly corpulent middle-aged man entered.
He wore a light brown beret.
His expensive teal suit was stretched tightly over his bulky frame.
This man was Mas Beardsley, an important minister within the theocracy.
Finihiya felt a flicker of doubt at why Minister Mas would appear alone at such a critical moment.
But…
Minister Mas’s presence here might mean the battle outside was not as dire as feared.
With that thought, a faint glimmer of hope stirred within her, and her previously dimmed eyes brightened slightly.
“Beardsley…”
Before she could finish calling out to Minister Mas, she was stunned to see him bypass them and walk straight toward the throne.
“Lady Darlian!”
Minister Mas dropped to one knee and gave a deep bow to Darlian.
Witnessing this scene, a bitter smile once again surfaced on Finihiya’s shocked face.
Before Finihiya could speak, a female knight beside her stepped forward, her voice cold and sharp as she demanded,
“Minister Mas! What do you mean by this? Why betray us?”
Mas Beardsley slowly stood up, then turned to the knights with a condescending and mocking gaze, his eyes squinting through the flesh of his face.
“Why? Haha~”
His brazen laughter echoed beyond the high Sanctuary ceiling and its brilliant stained glass, resounding through the sky darkened by thick black clouds.
“What’s so funny? Answer me, Mas Beardsley.”
The harsh laughter subsided.
Minister Mas’s face twisted into utter madness as he ruthlessly examined Saintess Finihiya’s exquisitely beautiful face—so stunning that everything else paled in comparison.
“Lady Darlian promised me that if I opened the city gates, she could deal with Lady Finihiya however she pleased.”
“Yes, Lady Finihiya is now mine.”
“Hahaha! How many children must Lady Finihiya bear for me…”
Before Mas Beardsley could finish his filthy sentence, a blade radiating intense heat slashed out from the female knight’s sword.
A piercing hiss tore through the air.
“Mas Beardsley!!!” The female knight’s eyes burned with murderous intent. “The Saintess is not someone a scoundrel like you can desecrate!”
Though the attack could easily cleave through stone, it failed to harm Minister Mas.
Behind him, a towering Minotaur shielded him.
Seeing the attack harmless, Mas Beardsley relaxed and sneered again.
“That attack is a mere scratch before the Demon Lord Army’s officers.”
“You—”
The female knight’s murderous intent deepened.
Tension in the hall thickened once more.
Clack, clack, clack…
The footsteps striking at the knights’ hearts came again from the throne.
Darlian descended the stone steps slowly.
The earth seemed to groan; the gravel on the floor trembled and drifted upward, dissolving into tiny dust particles.
This was caused by the terrifying magical power emanating from Darlian’s body.
“Do you intend to continue this meaningless resistance, Miss Saintess?”
Finihiya lowered her eyes.
Her small, pale face displayed bitterness, sorrow, and helplessness.
They had no chance against Demon Lord Darlian Sasha Lissti.
Even if the overwhelming numerical disadvantage was ignored, no one could defeat Darlian alone.
Though these knights were elite members of the Church Knights Corps, they were no match for Darlian, and as for Finihiya herself, her magical power’s nature rendered her nearly powerless in combat.
Her gaze fell on the Sacred Sword in her palm, and her expression grew more complex.
(Holding this sword, protecting my people is my mission.)
Finihiya had once sworn this oath with this very sword—to become the Saintess.
“Lady Finihiya, we will absolutely protect you and get you out of here, please trust us.”
The resolute voice of a female knight reached Finihiya’s ears.
Finihiya slowly raised her face and looked at the knights who had never once retreated in the face of the Demon Lord.
A faint softness flickered across her expression.
Indeed, this pointless resistance should end.
Finihiya lifted her small hand and placed it over the female knight’s grip on her sword hilt.
“Lady Finihiya?”
Seeing the female knight’s shocked expression, Finihiya gently shook her head and then stepped forward.
Amid the knights’ short exclamations, Finihiya took the lead.
Though the rain poured heavily, the moon still appeared.
The cold white moonlight streamed through the broken stained glass and wrapped around Finihiya’s small frame.
The cold wind gusting through the breach fluttered the girl’s dark veil, and her golden hair, like the dawn’s light, shimmered silver in the moonlight.
Biting her lips two or three times, Finihiya lifted her head to face Darlian directly.
Her resolute face was drained of color under the moonlight.
“Please be kind to them.”
Upon hearing this, Darlian’s brows arched into a pleased curve.
She strode toward Finihiya and provocatively pinched the Saintess’s chin, forcing her to meet her gaze.
“Since it’s the Saintess’s request, I have no choice but to agree.”
Whether it was Finihiya’s words or Darlian’s provocative behavior, the knights began to stir in unrest.
Before the situation became uncontrollable, Finihiya was the first to loosen her grip on the pure white Sacred Sword.
The crisp sound of the sword dropping echoed throughout the hall.
With a gentle tone, Finihiya reassured the knights behind her.
“Knights, please lower your swords.”
The clamor gradually subsided, replaced by the soft sounds of blades clattering to the floor.
Finihiya did not harbor much hope for Darlian’s promise.
Yet in this dreadful situation, even such a promise was better than nothing.
Looking into Darlian’s abyss-like black pupils, Finihiya slowly closed her eyes.
In a calm voice so peaceful it surprised herself, she spoke.
“Kill me.”
Darlian let out a mocking chuckle.
“Saintess, you have courage, but I refuse.”
Finihiya’s eyes slowly reopened, silently watching Darlian for a moment before shifting her gaze toward the traitor Mas Beardsley in the distance.
“Do you intend to humiliate me?”
“Hehe~”
Darlian lightly poked Finihiya’s cheek with a pale fingertip.
Her expression was radiant and joyful, like meeting a childhood playmate—the sun itself shining brilliantly.
“You are the Church’s Saintess after all; I will at least grant you basic respect, but I have a few demands you must accept.”
“Of course, under these circumstances, these are less requests and more orders—you have no right to refuse.”