As she drew closer to the source of the sickening energy, her head throbbed. That vile, putrid force was none other than the Saint's presence. Where others would feel warmth, peace, and purity, she felt disgust, revulsion. It churned her insides, making her stomach twist in knots, the very air tasting bitter on her tongue.
How could anyone stand this? She gagged as the energy grew stronger, the aura of the Saint radiating from the north like a foul odor.
"I need to stop this," she muttered, her voice low and filled with contempt. "This… wretched presence cannot continue."
Her lips curled into a wicked smile, the plan already forming in her mind. The Saint was strong—this much she remembered from the shards of her past. If she were to defeat her, it would have to be done swiftly and with precision. No mercy. No hesitation.
"I should study the Saint, or destroy a county and then make that county my base and the slowly destroy everything."
