Serafine let out a slow, measured breath.
This was... concerning.
Not the fact that she was being smothered by two overly affectionate humans who had latched onto her like she was some kind of holy body pillow. No, that was just another Tuesday.
What truly troubled her was why Clara was here.
Clara. The same girl who had openly accused her of being a fake saintess just yesterday.
The same girl she had definitely not expected to be clinging to her like a lost lamb who had finally found salvation or, in this case, a very soft place to sleep.
'Did I accidentally convert her too fast? I didn't even give a speech this time!'
She tried to move, only for Mariella to tighten her grip around her waist, mumbling something in her sleep. Serafine immediately froze. Any sudden movement might trigger another round of "Mariella's Jealous Wrath," and she was not in the mood to start her morning with that particular brand of chaos.
Her eyes darted to Clara. The girl was curled up on the other side, arms wrapped around Serafine's arm like a particularly stubborn vine.
'Oh, great. Now I have two clingy disciples. What's next, Calix joining in—'
Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed something in the corner of her eye.
On the floor, wrapped up in his thin blanket, lay Calix.
Face down.
His entire aura screamed suffering.
Serafine stared at him, then at her situation, then back at him.
'…Poor Calix.'
Serafine watched in mild amusement as the two girls slowly blinked themselves awake, their minds clearly still loading like a poorly optimized spell. They yawned, rubbed their eyes, and turned to face each other, their sleepy expressions shifting from confusion to sudden realization.
There was instant hostility.
Mariella's eyes narrowed, her arm shooting out to point at Clara. "What are you doing hugging Lady Savior?!"
Clara jolted, her face instantly turning red. "H-Huh?!" She quickly looked away, hugging herself as if that would erase the evidence. "I-I don't know! I was probably just trying to find warmth!"
"Then go to Calix!"
"That's just mean," Calix muttered from the floor, rubbing his face groggily as he also just awoke. "You guys make me feel like an option." He sniffled dramatically, as if he were the true victim in all of this.
Their morning went on relatively peacefully. Well, peaceful in the sense that no one was actively being burned, converted by force, or plotting high treason.
Clara, however, was still very much the designated house servant, and Mariella found this endlessly amusing. Every time Clara grumbled while scrubbing the floors or hauling water, Mariella would just smirk and sip her tea like a smug noblewoman watching her peasant struggle.
The girl, of course, insisted that there was no rivalry between them even though Mariella continued to taunt her at every opportunity. Absolutely none whatsoever.
Outside, the village carried on as usual, the clinking of coins, the chatter of merchants, the aroma of fresh bread mixing with the more unfortunate scent of livestock. It looked normal. No eerie chanting, no suspicious hooded figures lurking in the shadows. Just a quaint, bustling little town where people went about their daily business.
No one would suspect that the entire village had already been converted into Serafine's growing cult. It was almost disappointing how seamless the transition had been. No grand upheaval, no signs of anything remotely ominous. It was just everyday life, but with a sprinkle of hidden fanaticism.
When Serafine stepped outside, she was greeted by a chorus of overly enthusiastic smiles.
"Oh! Our lady savior!"
"Good morning?"
It was almost eerie. This was exactly how people treated her when she was the saintess. Love, praise, worship. Yeah, she'd been there, done that. Calix trailed behind her, probably processing his own thoughts, or just making sure she didn't spontaneously decide to start another sermon.
"Weird how no one even recognizes my face."
"Well," Calix mused, "not everyone knew what the saintess looked like. The church kept you hidden, you know, to prevent any assassination attempts. Besides, in a village like this, they couldn't care less about the saintess. A godless one."
Serafine hummed. "Well, I'd say it's not godless anymore."
As they strolled through the cobblestone streets, people offered them food left and right. A fresh loaf of bread here, a skewer there, it was like being a beloved noble with none of the taxes. Not bad.
"Help! Help!"
The air shifted. The ground trembled slightly, an unsettling stillness creeping over them. Birds erupted into the sky in a frantic scatter, and then, screaming. People ran, rushing out of an alleyway like a dam had broken.
Crack!
A massive, shadow-like figure loomed in the distance.
A shifting mass of ink, its form flickering, glitching like a corrupted painting.
It had no real shape, just the idea of one. But then, in the swirling blackness, something emerged.
A face. Distorted, stretched too wide, grinning. Saliva dripped from its unnatural maw, pooling onto the stone road. The temperature plummeted, and the air felt like it was choking on something unseen.
Serafine's eye twitched.
"Oh, lovely. A living nightmare."
"Watch out!"
The warning came too late.
The Stain lunged, its grotesque, twisted form unfurling a massive, elongated tentacle-like arm.
With a shriek of metallic fury, it struck, tearing through everything in its path.
Buildings groaned and shattered, trees splintered, and debris flew in all directions. People screamed, scattering in every direction, but Serafine and Calix remained rooted to the spot.
However, there was no fear in Serafine's eyes.
Instead, her lips curled into a grin, her gaze fixed on the monstrous creature before her. Now, this is what I've been waiting for, she thought, her excitement practically buzzing through her veins.
She'd never encountered one before, but she didn't need to.
The thing before her was the very reason the Saintess existed in the first place.
It wasn't about prayer, or giving speeches to the masses, or pretending to grant wishes. It was about this.
It was about exterminating these abominations, these creatures that had forced the races of the world to create the fragile Union of the Seven Kingdoms, the only thing standing between them and the terrifying empire of the Stains that lurked beyond their borders.
Now, here it was, right in front of her, as if the world was handing her the ultimate test.
She wasn't going to hide from it. No, Serafine was going to revel in it.
"This is going to be fun," she whispered to herself, a spark of anticipation dancing in her eyes.