The Demon King and the Saintess
"O God who becomes the light of all men, supreme among all gods, save us."
In the Tarnek Monastery, called the chapel closest to the main deity on the highest ground in the Holy See, Saint Cecilia was offering her prayers to the Savior of Light today as well.
"Lumina, goddess of light and mercy, look upon the worship of your lambs with compassion..."
Shuttled from orphanage to orphanage, she had been reborn through the goddess of light's selection.
The redheaded tomboy Giselle from the back alleys had been chosen by the goddess on a fierce winter night when the cold winds howled.
A single beam of light riding the moonlight descended in the dead of night, shining into a small orphanage on the city's outskirts and turning the darkness into broad daylight—a miracle.
The joy she felt in that moment, when her limp, unruly red hair turned pure white under the merciful goddess's will, glowing radiantly. The blessing flowing through every corner of her body let her know she had been chosen by the divine.
She would never forget that ecstasy, the profound relief of salvation, the holiness felt in the Lord's embrace—not until the end of her life.
And so, little Giselle became Saint Cecilia.
Remaining Giselle after such an experience, which shook both mind and body to their core, was impossible.
"Lumina..."
The stained glass depicting the goddess of light's battles sparkled in ivory hues under the bright sunlight, beautifully adorning the white chapel.
In the midst of the pouring multicolored light, Saint Cecilia bowed her faintly glowing head of divine power, straining to hear the goddess's voice.
"Grant your lowly servant your teachings once more..."
It was then.
The goddess Lumina, whom the saint revered and longed for with a burning thirst, responded to her earnest wish.
Feeling ecstasy that threatened to make her lose consciousness and pure joy coursing through her veins, Saint Cecilia listened intently to her goddess's words.
"My child, hear me."
In a voice softer and more refined than sun-dried silk, the goddess delivered her oracle to her cherished saint.
"A colossal evil blankets the continent once more, stirring."
The goddess warned of the disaster in a solemn tone.
"The Demon King, that cursed life stained with sin, has returned from its fourth death."
She conveyed to humanity the great event of the fifth Demon King's resurrection.
"The human world will groan under the atrocities of that ugly pretender to godhood."
"Lord, save us..."
The saint trembled in fear at the tragic news from the goddess, pleading for salvation.
"But fear not, for I am with you."
"Heroes from every continent will vanquish the Demon King."
"Even in this chaotic age where the human world lies scattered like a broken vessel of deceit, noble heroes will unite as one and advance unyieldingly."
The saint, overjoyed at the hint of salvation, sought an answer.
"Lord! Righteous goddess, most noble one, how shall we find the heroes?"
"Oh, my child, my small and precious Cecilia."
The goddess answered her saint's question with kindness.
"Worry not a moment, finding the heroes will not be difficult."
"The Demon King has sent impure lives into this world."
"Beasts over 20 cubits in size, with scales like dragons, possessing power enough to destroy a city."
"Ah... save us."
"But worry not, the hero chosen by the Lord has already slain them."
"Go and ask both the faithless and the faithful alike."
"Inquire who the heroes are that slew the beasts."
"Their fame will be widespread across the continent, and you shall find them easily."
The merciful goddess commanded her servant to gather the heroes and defeat the Demon King.
Cecilia rejoiced at being able to obey her goddess's command and offered her thanks.
To her faithful saint, the goddess bestowed further blessings.
"Be with them and add my blessings."
"You, Cecilia. My most precious servant Cecilia, become my lamp and save the world with the heroes in my light."
"Free the heroes from sin and guide them to the path of true faith."
"I shall be with you."
"Ah...! Lord...!"
The saint's white skin sparkled like pearls.
A divine power far stronger than when she was first chosen enveloped her body.
The pure divine power forged directly by the goddess of light and mercy greatly enhanced her abilities as a priestess.
Feeling the immense divine power pouring down like an anointing of oil, the monks and nuns who had rushed to the chapel witnessed the miracle.
"Ah...! Aaaah...! To witness a miracle, performed directly by our living goddess...!"
"The goddess... has descended...!"
Enveloped in light, the saint slowly descended from midair to the ground, appearing like a goddess incarnate upon the earth.
"Goddess... no, Saintess...! Has an oracle... been given?"
Opening her eyes, which faintly sparkled with divine power, Saint Cecilia conveyed the message to the priests gathered in the chapel.
At the oracle proclaiming the fifth Demon King's resurrection, the assembled faithful cried out in shock and fear.
"Such a thing, in this world..."
Faces turned pale in an instant; some of the less faithful nearly fainted.
The news of the Demon King's return—even known only from books—had left horrific scars on the continent with every descent. It was shocking tidings.
Saint Cecilia was displeased with their reactions.
She singled out one elderly monk who trembled most in fear and rebuked him in a low voice.
Gazing into his shaking eyes with her unwavering golden ones, the saint asked,
"Brother William, why do you fear?"
"It's... the Demon King...! Our village lost half its people 400 years ago...!"
"An ordinary citizen, a William, may fear."
Cecilia sternly admonished the faithful with lacking belief.
"But 'Brother William,' who dwells in faith, must not. You must personally prove to the wandering masses without faith that those with the Lord do not waver."
"The Lord is with the faithful—why do you fear?"
She formed a globe of the vivid divine power bestowed by the goddess in her hand and spoke.
Moved by the palpable divine power, the old monk cast off his fear and began praising the goddess.
The other faithful, too, shuddered at the magnitude of the pure, crystalline divine power and reaffirmed their belief that the goddess was with them.
Having heard the prophecy of the Demon King's stirring and the salvation to follow, the faithful praised the goddess.
"As servants of the goddess, you have duties to fulfill."
The faithful, burning with zeal, joyfully obeyed the goddess's words conveyed by the saint.
After relaying the divine will to seek the heroes, she resumed her interrupted praise.
"Lord, we shall live up to our faith."
Praying for blessings upon the nuns and monks busily spreading the news, Cecilia offered her pure body to the goddess.
At that same time, in the Demon King's Castle.
After the fourth Demon King perished, a cursed land emerged at the continent's center—one no sane being would approach.
The curse he left upon death turned part of the continent into land where no race but demons could survive.
In the heart of that land, in the Demon King's Castle, the fifth Demon King, Luciferia, sat alone upon her throne.
Lord of all demons.
Fifth savior to redeem the myriad demons.
One standing at the pinnacle of all life.
Most noble among all demons.
She, Luciferia, bearer of countless epithets, groaned with an unexpected headache.
Of the seven familiars she sent to scout the human realm's military strength, one had died.
In the most unforeseen place, no less.
"Impossible, why?"
She had personally created seven familiars.
One in the beastkin nation of Free Harkion confederation.
One in the elven kingdom of Elvnia.
One in the magic bastion, Runia Magic Tower.
One in the cursed goddess-worshipping Holy See.
One in the Contreso Holy Kingdom, which unified and ruled desert tribes.
One in the Emor Kingdom, famed for its powerful knight orders.
And finally, one in the weakest nation, Lucas Duchy.
The others had lost most of their bodies but succeeded in faking death and escaping.
"In the duchy I thought the easiest... The familiar I crafted with care and linked mentally died, gifting her a throbbing migraine.
To Leon Sodus and Bella Sodus—a Word Spirit user and a somewhat skilled mage—her painstakingly made familiar had been defeated.
Overwhelmed in an instant by firepower so absolute it couldn't even fake death and flee.
"Word Spirit arts... more impressive than I thought? I dismissed it as charlatans' tricks..."
Dismissing the chance it fell to the assisting mage, she heightened her wariness toward the name Leon Sodus.
"Leon Sodus... I shall remember you personally."
Memorizing the name that irritated her, from her high throne, she gazed down upon her territory—called the 'cursed land' by humans—and mused.
'Well, it's just a trivial loss that won't affect the greater nations anyway.'
Losing one familiar? A loss, certainly, but merely one that caused a brief headache.
She, lord of myriad demons and pinnacle of all dark magic, couldn't even imagine defeat.
The continent was more divided than ever, and the "heroes" she'd personally confirmed fell short of her expectations.
"In the end, the last laugh will be mine. Luciferia's."
With noble poise, she wickedly smiled with confident expression from the lofty Demon King's Castle, surveying the demon realm.
