Chapter 7
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: The Second Saintess
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A few days later.
The corridors of Camp 1 were filled with screams and the scraping of iron chains.
The aftermath of the list of apostates confessed by Elena hadn't even fully begun yet, but even its prelude had turned the place into a living hell.
"Hey, stand up straight!"
"I'm innocent! I'm telling the truth, priest!"
"Still spouting that nonsense? Looks like your interrogation wasn't thorough enough. Hurry up and tell me where you hid the 1,000 gold you embezzled!"
"No, don't! Aaaagh!!!"
The desperate cries of those being dragged to the interrogation rooms hung in the air like the damp moisture clinging to the ceiling.
But there was no guilt.
They were wicked sinners who rightfully deserved their punishment.
I kept a detached expression as I cut through the mad clamor.
After walking for quite some time, I finally faced the sunlight stinging my eyes.
I'd arrived at the director's office.
As I caught my breath and tried to steady my mind, a deep voice came from inside.
"Come in, Ian."
Damian's voice was smoother than usual, chillingly gentle.
Creak—
Damian was gazing out the window alone, exhaling sour cigar smoke.
Like an artist savoring a fine play, his excited eyes gleamed as he took in the commotion outside.
"You called for me, Director?"
"Oh, Ian. I was just confirming how tremendous the results you've achieved are. Time flies before you know it."
Damian slowly turned, giving me a benevolent smile.
There was no trace of the brutality that had nearly beaten me to death before.
A chill ran through me as I lowered my gaze.
Scattered at his feet were dozens of purge documents in disarray.
"Looks like the investigation has made considerable progress already."
"Yes... But there are far more vermin infesting the church than I imagined. Orders have come from above to leave their disposal to the Heretic Interrogation Office. This will make the church even more flawless..."
Damian paused for a moment before tossing a papal seal-stamped document from his desk toward me.
"And the disposition of Saintess Elena has been decided. There's no reason to keep alive a saintess who denounced apostates to confess her own sins. In one month, we'll hold a public execution in the square."
'Just as expected.'
Instead of my heart growing cold, an eerily clear sense of reality sharpened all my senses.
It had twisted a bit, but the main storyline was proceeding as in the original.
"But if that saintess appears at the execution looking wretched, it'll be a problem. For the church's dignity, she must maintain a noble appearance before the public."
A cruel arc curved his lips.
"That's why I'm moving Elena to the lowest underground level."
"That makes sense. There won't be any idiots who can't control their desires and go tormenting the saintess there."
"Exactly. You really get it."
He stopped speaking, stared straight into my eyes to gauge my reaction, then continued.
"Ian, you're in full charge of her management too. Interrogations will halt until the execution. Just make sure she remains a quiet, repentant doll."
"Me... sir?"
I hadn't expected to earn Damian's trust to this degree.
In the original story, the chance only came after Elena's original handler screwed up and got executed.
I'd planned to sneak in through that gap.
"Yes. If I left her to some brute, they'd ruin her before the execution even happens. But you— with your efficient interrogation style, I trust you'll manage her impeccably."
It was the perfect justification and exclusive authority.
Despite securing the safest position close to my goal, I feigned annoyance at the bothersome task.
"Since I started this, I'll see it through. I'll oversee her transfer immediately."
"That's the spirit. I like it."
Damian nodded in satisfaction, then lowered his voice a notch.
"By the way, Ian. I have one more request—no, it's an order from the church."
With a snap of his fingers, a girl silently emerged from the shadows behind the thick curtains.
"..."
A girl stood there.
Her features were sculpted like a perfect doll, her violet eyes devoid of any readable emotion.
Her cool blue hair, without a single strand out of place, contrasted sharply with her pale skin, creating an unreal sense of detachment.
The Second Saintess, Seraphina.
The moment I saw her, a page from the original novel [Hymn of Ruin] flashed vividly in my mind.
Seraphina was a tragic consumable called the "living holy relic."
Originally a ordinary girl from an imperial border village, she was kidnapped by the church due to her abnormally high divine power affinity.
They branded her parents as heretics and executed them, then erased her name and memories.
What followed were hundreds of brainwashing and purification rituals.
It was no different from taxidermy—stripping away her humanity, emotions, and self, filling the void with nothing but divine commands.
What endured that hellish process was a finely crafted murder weapon: a soul imprinted with brainwashing seals, devoid of self, moving only at the church's will.
Replacing Elena, she stained her hands with countless lives in the church's name.
One day, amid the endless massacres, a crack formed in the once-solid brainwashing.
During a prolonged mission, the seal's hold weakened, allowing her long-suppressed instincts to surface.
"What in the world have I done...?"
With her self returning came the horrific guilt of her own atrocities.
Before the church could dispose of the malfunctioning doll, she chose to break herself first.
Forcing her overwhelming divine power to overload, she forcibly ended her lifespan as a tool.
In the end, amid the agony of her veins bursting from divine power overload, she met a miserable death in some nameless alley.
'She met that fate too, in the end.'
I bit my lip as our eyes met.
Her gaze held only the cold precision of a manufactured item where life should dwell.
She looked at me, but her eyes perceived only the target—no spark of vitality.
Damian swept his indifferent gaze over Seraphina, stroking his chin as if mildly disappointed.
"The Second Saintess obeys church orders faithfully, but her autonomous judgment is severely lacking. She sometimes misinterprets commands or even attacks the commander."
Caressing her nape, he continued dryly, like an appraiser inspecting a flawed product.
"So, take her with you and train her personally. From your last interrogation, I saw you're exceptional at manipulating minds. If you can instill your efficient mindset in her, the church will have its most perfect saintess ever."
Even with Seraphina right there, Damian treated her not as a living human, but as an exquisite tool.
Suppressing the rising disgust, I flashed a sly grin.
"Honored to take on her education too. It's beyond me, but I'll deliver the best results."
"Hahaha, I know you will. And I'm not asking for free."
He opened a drawer and pulled out a worn key.
"This is compensation for doubting your methods last time and touching your body, and for these two heavy burdens. Take it, and you can claim two items from the warehouse."
"The warehouse... you mean?"
I bowed deeply to hide my surprise.
"Yes. Where confiscated goods from the executed pile up. Not as good as the holy relic vault, but with luck, you might find something to bolster that frail body of yours."
Damian narrowed his eyes threateningly.
"Of course, get greedy, and my evaluation of you might change. Keep that in mind."
"I will, Director."
As expected, no chance at the holy relic vault treasure trove.
This place was essentially a junkyard of hard-to-dispose relics tossed to those with middling achievements as a "favor."
But I had the [Emotion] ability.
I hadn't tested it yet, but my intuition said it worked on inanimate objects too.
In their eyes, mere scrap could become my most powerful weapons.
"Then, I'll trust your exceptional skills. I look forward to seeing how much the saintess standing before me has changed when this mission ends."
Damian smiled contentedly and ordered Seraphina.
"Seraphina, from now on, obey Ian's commands and act accordingly."
"Understood."
A short, mechanical reply.
She approached with strides devoid of hesitation or torment, stopping at my side.
I tried using [Emotion] on her once.
Nothing at all.
It felt like facing an intricately carved marble statue rather than a person—an oppressive aura enveloped her.
Drawing out any reaction from her right away would be tough.
"Then I'll take my leave, Director."
"Yes. Keep up the good work, Brother Ian."
With all business concluded, I gave a final bow and left the room.
Thud, thud.
Seraphina followed me without a single deviation.
Even in the corridor, she moved silently like a ghost.
We soon arrived at the confiscated goods warehouse underground, not far from the interrogation rooms.
Unlike the glamorous surface treasuries, this area reeked of dank moss and mold.
At the entrance, a burly guard dozed with a shabby spear in hand.
He jolted at our footsteps, straightening up.
"Who... Oh, it's you, Ian."
The guard glanced slyly at Seraphina beside me, then smirked vilely, blocking her with his spear.
"Heard from the director, but leave that thing outside. Can't have a precious saintess in the confiscated warehouse, rules are strict."
His words pretended respect, but his eyes brimmed with base curiosity.
Suddenly, the doll-like Seraphina stepped forward.
"Step aside. I have the director's order to follow Ian's education. Staying by the target's side is top priority."
Her mechanical, emotionless voice carried a chilling pressure that instantly stiffened the guard's face.
As Seraphina tried to force her way in, the panicked guard gripped his spear and retreated.
"H-Hey! Orders or not, I'm in charge here!"
Tension crackled between them until I stepped in front of her, speaking coldly.
"Hold."
"..."
Seraphina halted and turned to me.
Her violet eyes seemed to pierce my brow.
"Wait here. Don't enter until I call."
"But the director's order..."
"Didn't he just put your education in my hands? First lesson: stand by. Stay here with the guard and keep quiet."
At my icy command, Seraphina blinked once, then obediently bowed her head.
"...Understood. I'll wait here."
She froze in place without a hint of doubt, staring straight ahead like a machine with its power switched off.
The watching guard chuckled sleazily.
"Damn, you handle saintesses like a pro. As expected from you, Ian. Gotta train tools like that."
Ignoring his repulsive praise, I entered the warehouse.
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind me, greeting me with moldy darkness.
On dusty shelves lay the belongings of the executed.
I dropped my facade and activated [Emotion].
'Works on inanimate objects too, as expected.'
I hurried toward the blue windows filling my vision.
Finding anything worthwhile here would take considerable time.