The Saintess's Descent into Madness
Aria’s mental state had completely shattered.
"Sigh... of course, those stuck-up, narrow-minded priestesses would be like that."
She crossed her arms, sneering. "You’ve spent your whole lives holed up in safe sanctuaries, offering prayers and gorging yourselves on the measly blessings of the Pantheon. Do you even know what the bottom of this world looks like? Have you ever, even once, truly seen how the abandoned races and the impoverished, who receive no favor from the gods, roll in the mud and struggle to survive like livestock?"
Claudette looked up and down at Aria’s beautiful silver hair and her saintly robes, now stained with blood and filth, and scoffed.
"Oh, wait. No. I suppose those eyes you kept closed in your arrogance have been forced open now. After all, you’ve been perfectly abandoned by your god and dropped into this muddy hell. You were known for being a stubborn, impossible-to-reason-with brat back at the temple, weren't you?"
Aria stood tall, refusing to yield to Claudette’s insulting mockery.
"What a waste of time. Fine, I’ll stop the posturing and tell you." Claudette clicked her tongue and pointed a finger at the massive wooden crates scattered across the basement walls.
"You ask why I’ve been holed up in this dark, damp basement? To find a way to escape this place for good. If you crack open these boxes scattered all over this hellhole, you mostly just get rusty tools or useless junk... but if you’re lucky, you find a 'key' that can open the dog hole—or rather, the emergency exit."
Her eyes glinted in the darkness as she stared at the crates.
"But that emergency key only works when I’m the last survivor left. So, I’ve been hiding in this basement, avoiding the predators' eyes, waiting for my companions to die... or rather, waiting for the moment I become the sole survivor so I can crack these boxes open."
Aria’s lips trembled.
"That’s so selfish! Are you really going to sacrifice other survivors, using their deaths as collateral just so you can survive so miserably on your own?"
"Pfft!" Claudette burst into a laugh, as if she couldn't help herself.
"Did you not hear a word that monster who beat you down said? Survival is just like that, little saintess. Whether others are screaming while getting smashed by a club or not, it’s none of my business. As long as I escape quietly and survive, that’s all that matters. Besides, I wasn't lying when I said the exit door opens if I turn the eight waterwheels, was I?"
"But that’s..." Aria tried to protest, but Claudette coldly cut her off.
"I’m not done talking yet." A look of profound exhaustion and despair flickered across her ash-gray face.
"Why do you think I was huddled and trembling in front of that gloomy bonfire, unable to go home even after escaping so many times? Do you think I liked that clearing so much I was camping? That’s impossible!"
Claudette clenched her fists and raised her voice.
"This damn festival is set up so that even if you escape through the fog gate, you’re automatically returned to the clearing with the bonfire. If we don't obtain the 'real means' to return to the homes we once lived in, you and I will just be dragged back to this slaughterhouse over and over, torn apart and killed in an infinite cycle of carnage. Am I wrong? You can’t even refute this damn reality, can you?"
Aria couldn't bring herself to speak in the face of that perfect, vicious logic of despair.
In her mind, she wanted to reject Claudette’s selfish way of surviving, but her reason, confronted with the horrific reality, left her as speechless as if she’d swallowed a bug.
"If you understand, don't just stand there like an idiot. Go over there and start cracking boxes." Claudette pointed with her chin to an old crate on the other side of the basement.
Aria trudged over and knelt before the crate. She gripped the lock on the wooden lid with both hands and twisted with all her might, but the old, rusted iron mechanism wouldn't budge.
"Sigh... as if you’d ever open it with those soft, weak hands." Claudette clicked her tongue, pulled an old dagger from her waist, and tossed it at Aria’s feet.
Clatter.
Aria picked up the dagger from the floor. "Th... thank you."
Leaving a reluctant, short greeting, she shoved the blade into the gap of the lock and began to struggle, twisting the lid open.
Claudette also crouched before another box in the opposite corner.
"Please, a key... or please, just grant me a way to go home, just once..." She muttered desperately, hands clasped together, as she fumbled with the lid.
Only the creaking of metal and the heavy, ragged breathing of the two women struggling with the boxes filled the basement.
*Creeeak— Snap!*
Proving the experience of a veteran survivor, Claudette skillfully picked the lock with her bare hands, without even needing the dagger.
Her eyes flashed as she threw the lid open.
At the bottom of the box lay a bizarre, half-broken, and rusted iron key.
"Whew... it’s old, but this should be enough to pick the lock." Claudette quickly tucked the key deep into her clothes and stood up. "You still haven't opened yours? Move aside, I’ll open it for—"
It was the moment she approached Aria, looking frustrated.
*CRACK—! SNAP!*
As Aria threw her entire weight into twisting the dagger, the crate’s lock finally broke, and the thick wooden lid flew wide open.
And the moment the lid opened, a brilliant, blinding wave of light, tearing through the darkness of the basement, erupted from within the crate.
Whoosh—!
It was as if a divine barrier was being erected, momentarily severing this disgusting, blood-red basement from the outside world of slaughter. A brilliant white light swallowed the entire basement in one gulp!
Blinded by the intensity, Aria and Claudette reflexively squeezed their eyes shut.
After a few seconds, as the wave of light slowly subsided, the two carefully opened their eyes.
Inside the crate lay a transparent glass marble the size of a palm. At the core of that small marble, an overwhelmingly pure radiance, small as a candle flame but never flickering out, was undulating.
A perfect holy relic, condensing the miracle of Lumen, the God of Light, who had been recorded as lost.
"My god..." Claudette’s lips parted in shock.
"The gods... they hadn't completely abandoned us! This is a miracle! With this holy relic... perhaps we can all survive and escape outside!"
Even the cynical and selfish Claudette was reigniting the hope that had collapsed in the face of the sacred object.
"Hurry! You’re a high-ranking saintess who serves Lumen! If you hold it, the relic’s power will be maximized! Quickly, grab it and let’s go up the stairs!" Claudette shook Aria’s shoulders urgently.
"Lord Lumen... my great god." Aria wept, staring at the marble in the crate with ecstatic eyes.
It felt as if the crumbling, thin faith she held and the guilt of her apostasy were being washed away in an instant.
"My faith... was never wrong! I have finally been rewarded!"
Aria wore a smile of pure joy as she reached out both hands and carefully grasped the glowing marble.
Ssssss—!
"Aaaah!"
But the moment the marble touched her palms, Aria let out a horrific scream and twisted her body.
The marble didn't welcome the saintess’s touch with warmth; instead, it began to mercilessly burn her skin, as if it had come into contact with filthy filth.
"Why...! Aaaargh!"
Aria’s white palms were scorched black, suffering painful burns.
But she didn't let go of the marble.
No, she couldn't let go. This holy relic was the proof of the faith she had dedicated her entire life to, and the only lifeline that could lead her back into the embrace of the light.
She gritted her teeth against the pain of her flesh burning and forcibly pulled the marble to her chest.
Sizzle! Ssssss!
The smell of burning flesh and yellow smoke began to fill the basement.
Blood seeped from Aria’s palms, soaking the marble, but the holy relic emitted an even more intense light, burning through her skin down to the bone.
"You’re insane! Let go right now!" Unable to watch any longer, Claudette lunged forward and struck Aria’s wrists hard.
Clack! Roll.
The marble bounced out of Aria’s hands, rolling across the stone floor while emitting a brilliant light.
"Why... why... why..."
Aria, slumped on the floor, stared blankly at her two blackened, charred hands, muttering like someone who had lost their mind.
"Why... why-why-why... why does the God of Light reject me? Did He abandon me just because I ate a few pieces of fried meat...? Was my entire life of prayer a lie...?"
Her mental state had completely collapsed and shattered into pieces. The focus of her eyes wandered into the void, and her pale, blue lips were meaninglessly and horribly repeating the same words over and over.
"Get a grip! Let’s get out of here first! It’s dangerous here!" Just as Claudette grabbed Aria’s arm, trying to pull her up—
Vwooom—! Whoosh.
A very narrow space in the corner of the basement ceiling distorted strangely.
It was a faint ripple, as if it had been forced through, cleverly avoiding the eyes of surveillance.
And from the end of that ripple, an old parchment document fell quietly, fluttering like a butterfly.
Flutter.
The parchment landed softly on the knees of Aria, who was slumped on the floor, her mind gone.
"Ah... ahaha..."
A winded, hollow laugh leaked from Aria’s lips as she looked down at the contract resting on her knees.
The shackles of heresy she had so despised and rejected.
But now, in this pit of despair, the only one extending a hand of salvation to her, who had been perfectly abandoned, was not Lumen, the God of Light she had served her whole life, but this unknown Outer God who was obsessed with her until the end.
"Ahahahaha! Aaaaaaah!"
Aria’s hollow laugh instantly turned into a chilling, manic cackle.
In her laughter echoing against the damp walls of the basement, only the fragments of her completely shattered faith were rolling around in a grotesque display.
Claudette couldn't bring herself to speak in the face of that madwoman’s insanity; she just gulped down dry saliva and backed away.
Aria screamed toward the void, tears streaming down her face.
"You incompetent god who rejected my life of prayer! Now, I shall curse your light for eternity!"
She raised her two hands, skin peeled away from the burns, dripping with bright red blood and yellow pus.
She no longer felt the pain.
She slammed her blood-soaked palms violently into the center of the parchment contract resting on her knees.
Splat—!
A horrific bloodstain spread vividly across the contract.
"As you wish! My body and my corrupted soul! I offer all of this filthy blood to your altar!"
Aria’s eyes were already dyed red with fanaticism.
And the moment the oath of blood and soul was completed—
Ssssss—!
The parchment contract stained with Aria’s blood began to flap wildly, then let out a bizarre scream as it started to tear into hundreds and thousands of thin threads.
"W-what is this...!"
The split threads instantly multiplied like spiderwebs, wrapping tightly around Aria’s bloodied wrists.
She panicked and tried to pull her hands away, but the threads burrowed into her arms, shoulders, and even her neck at an incredible speed, wrapping around her entire body.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
Aria’s scream tore through the basement, but the threads did not stop.
The spiderwebs perfectly covered her silver hair, her eyes, and her lips, swallowing her whole.
In just a few seconds, the form of the noble saintess vanished without a trace, and in her place, only a huge, hideous cocoon—as if a person had been stuffed inside—remained, emitting a bizarre, rhythmic pulsing sound.