READ NOVEL ONLINE Chapter 127
The Underground Cathedral engulfed in shadows.
The blue light of the lantern failed to dispel the darkness and blended into it.
In the dim light and gloom, worshippers were offering their prayers.
The worshippers muttered prayers with their hands clasped in devotion, kneeling in silence.
One wept, stammering through the words of the prayer.
Another stood quietly, silently offering their worship.
Different actions, yet their hearts resonated as one.
– Guhhhaaaak!
At that moment, a chilling scream echoed from somewhere nearby.
The source of the sound was far from the Prayer Room, yet it was disturbingly clear.
Nevertheless, the worshippers continued their prayers, undisturbed.
The lamentation of the sinner was described as the path of reformation.
The ghastly howls from the Torture Room were seen merely as part of that process.
Meanwhile, a silhouette passed by the Prayer Room.
Wrapped in black cloth, it blended into the shadows.
He was one of the Twelve Apostles assisting the Lair Lord of the Underground Cathedral.
Strangely, his footsteps made no sound.
Eventually, he arrived at the Torture Room, disguised as the Reformation Room.
– Please, just kill me…
A heart-wrenching sob escaped from beyond the door.
The Apostle knocked without a care. It was a sound he heard every time he approached the Reformation Room.
– Aaaaaaaack!!!
The scream drowned out the knocking.
The Apostle let out a deep sigh and suddenly burst open the door.
In an instant, the thick scent of blood filled his nostrils; blood was splattered everywhere, unmistakably.
Having grown accustomed to the smell, the Apostle felt no reaction at all.
“Ughhh, hghhaaa…”
The sinner was bound to a wooden chair, vision obscured by a black blindfold.
Instruments of torture were ransacking his mouth.
“Oh, you’ve come.”
The woman torturing the sinner smiled lightly and nodded.
Her beauty was captivating enough to leave a lasting impression, and she was also elegant.
Her luminous golden hair was smoother than silk, and her soft smile was full of vitality.
So beautiful, it felt almost like gazing upon an angelic halo.
Two horns protruded from beneath her veil, but that didn’t matter at all.
The Solari stigmas etched on her hand confirmed that Sara was indeed a saint.
“Guhhhh…”
Sara removed the dental tool from the sinner’s mouth.
Thick, fresh blood dripped from the extracted teeth.
The man no longer had the strength to scream.
Seeing his limp body, Sara couldn’t help but smile.
“Get up. You still have debts to pay.”
The moment Sara placed her hands on him, a burst of golden light erupted.
The many wounds, bloodstains, and burns on his body healed in an instant.
Conversely, the man’s face turned pale with despair.
“Kill me! Please!!! Mmm! Ugh!!”
Sara covered his mouth with a cloth.
Blood flowed from his gums where his teeth had been, staining the cloth red.
The man groaned incoherently while desperately biting down on the towel with what few teeth he had left.
Sara turned her head, a cold smile on her lips.
“Shall we take our leave now?”
“Yes.”
Before one could experience Sara’s methods of torture, the Apostle was left awestruck.
Torturing the sinner, healing him, and torturing him again—dozens of times.
He sincerely believed even hell’s pain would be less than this.
Though not certain, it seemed Sara derived pleasure from inflicting pain.
“I’ll give you a moment to rest. Take care of yourself.”
Setting down her instruments, Sara wiped her bloodstained hands with a towel.
Immediately, the blood covering her body evaporated in the wake of her divine light.
A soft smile still lingered on her lips.
“Shall we walk and chat?”
“…Sounds good.”
As they left the Reformation Room, they strolled side by side down the corridor.
While Sara beamed like sunlight, the Apostle reported with a blank expression.
“I’ve cleansed all the items you ordered.”
The Twelve Apostles were her devoted followers, grounded in their faith for Sara.
None questioned her commands; instead, they understood her heart deeply.
In the dogma that Sara fervently believed, the punishment for blasphemy was death.
“Well done. I knew the First Apostle could pull it off.”
Sara beamed at him.
Deep down, the ease with which she had killed Duke Sanjiba didn’t sit well with her.
The exhilaration of that time still lingered.
Under normal circumstances, she would have subjected him to eternal suffering in the Reformation Room.
“Is there another mission you would have for me? Or anything for personal gain you wish to mention?”
“Hmm…”
Personal gain… personal gain.
Sara pondered while alternating her gaze between the stigma on her right hand and the Dungeon Core inscribed on her left.
A contradictory existence, both a saint and chosen for The Seven Lairs.
This was closer to a miracle than a contradiction.
Hence, she viewed herself as a miraculous being, not conflicted at all.
With a body that was half human, half beastman, and blessed by the divine in both hands, how could she not see it as a miracle?
Sara halted her steps and looked towards the Prayer Room.
She could see the worshippers praying in their own ways.
Watching them deepened her smile.
“Do you see? The little lambs longing for His grace.”
“Yes.”
Sara turned her head.
Her beaming face directed at the Apostle.
“I’ll say it again, Apostle. You are not my servant. Before that, you are a servant of the Most High.”
“…Yes.”
“Then how could I use you for my own desires? Even if just in words, please refrain.”
Her tone was gentle, yet fervent faith seeped through.
In that fervor lay the undertone of killer intent.
The Apostle suppressed his shivering and bowed.
“It was a mistake. I apologize.”
“Not at all. It’s fine. Everyone makes mistakes, right? I understand. I have my own unspeakable mistakes as well.”
Sara confessed her solitary confessions of faith each night the full moon rose.
This one small being had once doubted Him.
A Death Knight wielding the Holy Sword.
For a time, she thought his existence was the counterpart of the Solari.
Fortunately, Sara’s doubts quickly faded.
The contradictory being possessing the Holy Sword in the hands of the Undead.
A contradictory spirit seeking to save humanity with the flesh of the Undead.
From the chatter, they called him Hero Lucas, and for a time, Sara thought so too.
But when he vanquished Calandas, she began to wonder.
A hero couldn’t slay Calandas alone.
Even four legendary heroes together couldn’t accomplish it, nor could Lucas, now an Undead.
How could a Death Knight single-handedly confront the Lich King?
A miracle that surpassed contradictions. And so Sara began to ponder.
Could it be that the flesh of the Undead was an incarnation? If that were the case, then could He be a manifestation of the divine?
Yet that too was merely speculation; it did not solidify into conviction.
“…It was a shameful past.”
Sara gently closed her eyes.
It was then that her faith was solidified.
At the moment Barugore hesitated on whether to consider Him a divine incarnation, the stigma had manifested.
Thus, once more Sara hesitated. Perhaps it was a response to her faith that the stigma emerged.
Just as her faith had been answered, the Dungeon Core of The Seven Lairs chose her.
With Calandas slain, the vacancy in the 5th Lair of The Seven Lairs now open, Barugore had eliminated Calandas himself.
At that moment, Sara realized.
‘Ah. This is His blessing.’
Two answers to her faith. The Lair Lord of The Seven Lairs, wielding the Holy Sword and the Moonlight Sword.
Even the slaying of Calandas was all part of His plan.
The divine being became conviction, and conviction became faith.
Every action taken by Him was not contradiction but miracle.
He saved her, who was submerged in darkness, and restored her to light.
“Apostle, do you know? He has said He wishes to see me.”
So delightful, yet at that moment, she was unprepared.
Now, she had finished all her preparations.
Imagining it alone filled her with indescribable happiness, making reality feel like a dream.
“I’m starting to prepare to welcome Him.”
Sara’s body trembled with joyous anticipation.
***
“Here it is.”
Bending at the waist, the merchant handed over a letter.
Reading it made me swallow a nervous gulp without realizing.
The sender was Sara, so I couldn’t help but feel nervous.
I tore open the included letter and read the words inside.
Just like her previous letters, it contained only concise sentences.
– Indeed. It was all my doing. I will come to see you soon.
“….”
Though it was a respectful title, Sara used formalities with anyone, whether they liked it or not.
The so-called honorific character was Sara.
‘Everything is her doing… of course.’
Naturally. Sara was reading my thoughts.
I didn’t need to see why she was coming for me; it was painfully obvious.
‘A death threat.’
She meant her killing intent was imminent, and I was to brace myself.
I wondered if I was overreacting, but upon seeing the bloodstains on the letter, I was convinced.
To give a death threat so politely was oddly considerate in a strange way.
In her own way, it was likely a hint for me to struggle.
Regardless of her intent, she remained scum.
‘Should I just sit back quietly?’
As it turned out, I had set up a meeting with the Seven Dukes.
If I could recruit the Seven Dukes and bolster my power, I wouldn’t have to fear Sara at all.