Bad Ending (This chapter may cause discomfort, so feel free to skip it.)
The Goddess Church worshiped Artemisia, the Goddess of Fate, and was the largest religion in this world.
The church Luna belonged to was a branch of this Goddess Church.
*
Saint Lymea Kreina
A short while ago, she had a dream.
It was one of the divine powers she gained after becoming a saint: Revelation.
Revelation was akin to a prophetic dream, allowing her to glimpse one possible future among countless branching paths in the form of a dream. Through this ability, the Goddess Church had reaped numerous benefits.
Of course, the future didn't always unfold exactly as seen in the dream, nor could she choose to view a desired outcome. It was merely a peek into one of near-infinite possibilities. With choices upon choices repeating endlessly, the number of variations was incalculable, making it an unstable form of foresight. Interpretations could render it useless—or worse, lead to self-sabotage by fixating on the dream. The failure to foresee the Monster War exemplified its unreliability.
Yet, peering into the future remained a power that could yield tremendous gains when wielded wisely.
It had vanished alongside the sealed heavens, but for some reason, revelations had recently returned.
Thus, the saint dreamed of countless worldlines, but one recent dream left an indelible mark.
The long dream cut abruptly, like scenes spliced together, but it was easy enough to comprehend.
The first scene showed her facing an elf who seemed distinctly uneasy.
"Thank you... Professor."
"...The materials were insufficient, so stability is way down. If you take that, you'll definitely die."
"It's fine. You helped me even knowing what I planned to do."
"Honestly, Luna, I was hoping your plan would fail... Not that success rates even make sense here. If it somehow works, the world is done for. And now without the Tower Master, how the hell are we supposed to—"
"...".
She turned wordlessly and walked away.
The world had changed drastically with the Tower Master's suicide. The community collapsed without its admin, Joodak. And soon after... the Dungeon Master was captured.
The scene shifted.
"Sister, are you really sure about this?"
"...I know it's insane. But what can I do? Ignoring this would leave me regretting it forever."
She was speaking with a platinum-blonde woman who appeared to be a mage. Their relationship didn't seem particularly warm.
Another shift.
A castle in ruins, as if bombarded. The ceiling suggested it was inside the Shelter—why a castle here?
Hundreds, thousands of armed soldiers gathered, unleashing every attack on mysterious assailants.
Countless starlights rained from the sky, pummeling the castle, while silver beams swept the battlefield from the ground.
She moved with explosive physical prowess, endlessly regenerating her body with holy power, slicing through foes like a goddess descended upon the field.
But outnumbered, wounds accumulated. Enemies laced attacks with poison and curses to hinder regeneration, slowing her recovery.
"Holy shit... the Goddess Church's paladin is really here!!"
"Take out the mages providing rear magic bombardment first!!!"
"There are only two enemies!!! What the hell are you doing!!!!"
"Request ground support now!!!"
Another shift.
A thick iron door sliced open, revealing her beyond.
No part of her body was unscathed. Her once-radiant silver hair was soaked in blood, her eyes glazed. Several arrows pierced her, sites turning purple, then black, spewing smoke.
A broken spear tip and blade impaled her side and back.
To the observer, she teetered on death's edge. Yet her steps held no hesitation—this seemed her destination.
At the center of what looked like an in-castle research facility pulsed a massive, writhing black sludge mass.
Dozens of stakes and chains etched with incantations pinned it immobile. Seals everywhere restrained its movement.
Clang—
She shattered what appeared the seal's core. Constraints weakened; stakes and chains ripped free from the sludge.
"KieeeEEEEEEK!!!!!!"
The liberated amorphous monster unleashed a horrific, otherworldly scream. Saw-like teeth erupted from its body, lunging at her.
Sharp fangs dug into her shoulder; where sludge touched, flesh melted.
Sizzle—
"It's okay, Kkomangi."
Even as her hand burned away, she gently stroked the monster.
Astonishingly, the mindless abomination released her.
"Where's Oppa?"
"GrrrRRRrr."
The monster, body endlessly dripping, pointed one direction.
Bleeding profusely, she headed that way.
Smashing through security-sealed doors, she reached a neglected warehouse, like a dump for useless parts.
There sat a figure bound limb to chair, long lost to brainwashing and drugs—the man she loved.
"Oppa... sorry. Did I keep you waiting long?"
She embraced him like cradling a treasure.
Boom—!!
"KieeeEEEEEEK!!!"
But time was short.
After a brief reunion.
People swarmed from behind—legends renowned on the surface.
Outside, monster and soldiers still clashed.
One among the arrivals sighed at the heart-impaled dead man.
"Haa... There must've been a better way. Why resort to this...?"
"That's my line... Did you have to ruin Oppa like this?"
"They explained it as a mistake on our end. And once we reclaim the surface, we'd release him..."
"You know that's bullshit. If surface reclamation was the goal, brainwashing wasn't needed."
Tears streamed down her face—grief for sending her love away herself, for being too late.
"...Saint, could you?"
"Too much delay risks unstable consciousness. Finish quickly, please."
The saint herself appeared in the dream, likely to revive the dead man at life's cost—her power allowed it.
"Thanks to you, we're about to lose the saint too. Oh, and this bitch. Resistance was fierce; couldn't be helped. Shame to lose the manpower."
A head rolled from the crowd—the woman's who attacked the fortress with her.
"...Sister, sorry."
Bloodied, they surrounded her.
Already a corpse walking, toppling her would be easy. Perhaps just waiting would suffice.
"Change your mind now. With the saint here, you can live. Save the world with your power. You went easy; casualties weren't high. They'll understand."
Maybe coaxing to preserve forces. Or a backstab ploy.
But it no longer mattered. She swallowed the elixir from the elf.
Her inner vessel shattered; explosive holy and mana power erupted.
She spat words like chewing them.
"My world... is this man... and now... he's gone..!!!"
Tears evaporated in the power's torrent.
Her body crumbled, holy power endlessly rebuilding collapsed parts.
"Fuck...!!! She's going mutual destruction!! Block her now!!! Protect the saint!!!"
Battle erupted.
After fierce combat.
She was biting the saint's neck.
Limbs severed, biting was all she could do.
"Fuck off, you bitch!!!"
"Saint! We'll pry her off soon. Hang on!!!"
Stab—slash—stab—
They hacked her limbless body. The saint's form drenched in her blood.
"...Paladin, I won't die from this. You know that."
As her dream-self said, the saint could recover even from a severed neck.
But deaf to words, she kept tearing throat flesh until, long after, her breath ceased. Her body disintegrated to ash, utterly spent.
Countless hero corpses littered around.
"This... how did one person...?"
"What face do we report this loss with...!!?"
"KieeeEEEEEEK!!!!!!"
The dream ended with dazed heroes and the monster's wail.
What followed was unknown—just one of infinite possible futures that once occurred.
'So tempting...'
Lymea had lived without greed, but this dream's her captivated her.
The image burned in: gnawing her own neck, body riddled with blades, never letting go.
Having her by her side would be ideal, so the saint sought the dream's her.
If this too was revelation, perhaps the goddess willed it.
"What do you say? Protect me. Become the church's paladin. I'll give you everything I can."
"Pardon...? But I can't use holy power or fight..."
"Doesn't matter. You'll be the strongest paladin ever. I heard—even corrupted by a flame monster, you wielded holy power somewhat. No ordinary person could. You're chosen. Be mine, please."
But she refused.
"Sorry... Saint. Despite your kind offer... I have something more important."
"...A pity."
Not expecting outright rejection, Saint Lymea Kreina desired Luna even more.
*
Leaving the prayer room, Luna headed to the dorms.
'...How do I face Oppa tomorrow...'
Soo-chan probably wouldn't care much, but Luna's low self-esteem amplified even trifles into anxiety.
At her dorm room door, a fidgeting figure waited.
"...Oppa?"
"Oh, Luna, you were out. I thought you were mad... ignoring me... Glad you're not."
Seeing his cold sweat, Luna felt lighter— she wasn't the only anxious one.
She stepped closer.
"Oppa, you like me, right?"
"...Yeah, I do."
Returning the question he'd once asked her.
"Then that's enough. So what if there are other women? As long as you like me most."
Luna brushed past, opening her door and entering.
"Huh...?"
Soo-chan pondered her words.
Click—
The door cracked open; Luna peeked out.
"The.Most. Right?"
Her gaze oddly menacing, Soo-chan gave the desired reply.
"Y-Yeah!! Of course!! You're my favorite!!"
Hearing it, Luna smiled brightly and shut the door.
Soo-chan spaced out, then muttered.
"...Not nice boat...?"