Chapter 10: The Saintess’s Troubled Rebirth

“Boom! Boom! Boom! Rat-a-tat-tat!”

With each terrifying burst of gunfire, the tranquility near the orphanage was utterly shattered.

At the heart of the orphanage stood an ancient church. Once a beacon of faith and peace, it had transformed into the very maw of hell with the first crack of gunfire.

Blood splattered the walls. On the floor, the bodies of innocent people lay scattered, a grim tapestry of death.

Among them were clergy members, orphanage nannies, soldiers who had once kept the peace, and even many war orphans who had found refuge there. Their eyes remained wide open, silently accusing the sudden tragedy that had befallen them.

The joyous laughter that once filled the nearby orphanage had been replaced by sharp gunshots and agonizing screams. The very air hung thick with the stench of blood and death.

“No, no… no, don’t…”

In the blood-soaked hall, a little girl, no older than eight, huddled in a corner, clutching her head and trembling incessantly.

“Nana, Chloe… No, don’t…”

Her eyes were wide with terror and incomprehension. She had just witnessed two of her closest friends brutally gunned down. Their bodies lay silent in pools of blood, unable to respond to her frantic calls.

As she stared at their lifeless forms, their eyes still open in death, an unspeakable blow struck the girl’s young heart.

The tragic demise of her friends rekindled the searing memory of her own parents’ murder years ago.

Watching the black-masked mercenary, a beast in human form, pull out a small knife and advance toward another little boy, a surge of grief and desperation propelled the black-haired girl forward.

With a guttural scream, she launched herself at him, sinking her teeth into his arm with all her might.

After all, that little boy was her beloved younger brother, whom she had protected for so long. The black-haired girl would never allow him to be harmed.

Alas, the strength of a small child was utterly insignificant compared to that of a battle-hardened mercenary.

“Damn it! Get lost!”

Wincing in pain, the mercenary’s eyes glinted with murderous intent. He violently flung his arm, sending the small, black-haired girl flying.

Her back slammed brutally against the sharp corner of a table, the agony and impact instantly robbing her of movement. She lay writhing on the ground, struggling in pain.

Yet, the soldier before her showed no mercy, advancing with a sinister grin.

“Since you’re so eager to die, I’ll send you on your way first.”

Before the words had even faded, the mercenary raised his rifle. He aimed it directly at the girl’s head, then coldly pulled the trigger, emptying the entire magazine in a fit of rage.

In that instant, time seemed to freeze. The black-haired girl’s life flickered out like a fragile flame in the wind.

Her eyes, brimming with despair and terror, were shattered by the bullets. The world around her was instantly swallowed by darkness, and with it, her consciousness.

****

“Hoo… hoo… hoo… hoo…”

Terrified gasps tore from Xiamiya’s throat as she abruptly awoke from a nightmare, instantly sitting bolt upright in bed. Her breathing was ragged, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

The terror in her heart and the brutal scenes from her past life’s memories still echoed in her mind, making it impossible for her to find calm.

Yet, after a moment of frantic gasping, Xiamiya slowly regained her composure, her gaze gradually sharpening.

‘Just now… just now that was… a dream,’ she thought. ‘I dreamt of that scene again…’

Even now, recalling the scene of her death in her previous life, Xiamiya felt a lingering dread, her entire body trembling incessantly.

With a gaze filled with myriad emotions, the shaking Xiamiya surveyed everything within the room.

“Rebirth, is it? Sometimes it truly feels… like a dream…”

Her rainbow-colored eyes narrowed slightly, and Xiamiya’s thoughts drifted back once more, returning to the period immediately after her previous life had ended.

Her memories of that time were not entirely clear. Her consciousness had already blurred, and her thoughts had even ceased.

All she knew was that after her death, her consciousness had not dissipated. However, she hadn’t gone to heaven or the underworld as the priests had preached.

Instead, she had drifted like a speck of dust, wandering through a space that was both void and indistinct.

In that boundless void, time and space seemed to lose all meaning. Xiamiya’s consciousness simply drifted, aimless and disoriented, feeling an unprecedented confusion.

She had no idea where she was heading, nor could she grasp what purpose her continued existence held.

However, just as Xiamiya felt her soul on the verge of dissipating within that space, her soul-form was suddenly cradled in someone’s hands. A sacred, golden energy enveloped her, bathing her in its light.

Within that dazzling radiance, a figure gradually materialized. Enveloped in golden energy, it shone with such brilliance that it was impossible to look at directly.

Yet, in its presence, Xiamiya felt an overwhelming sense of warmth and tranquility, and her scattered consciousness began to mend. Through her hazy vision, the figure slowly became clearer.

She could vaguely discern a kind and beautiful woman.

Then, the figure within the golden light spoke, its voice gentle yet potent, brimming with boundless compassion and majesty. It enveloped Xiamiya’s soul like the warm sun of spring.

—“Make a deal with me, little one.”—

“A deal?”

—“Yes. I will grant you a new life. And what you must do… is become the Saintess and save that world.”—

“The Saintess, huh…” Xiamiya muttered with a complex heart, recalling the voice that had entered her ears in that pivotal moment.

Her gaze drifted forward, settling on the statue adorning the wall: a woman with four pairs of wings, cradling the sun. This sculpted figure was none other than the pure object of faith for the people of the Theocracy—the Goddess of Creation.

The Saintess, it was said, was the messenger of the Goddess of Creation. A Child of Light, born under the shroud of holy radiance. They were described as beautiful, sacred, powerful, compassionate, and resilient.

—“The Saintess shall eradicate all calamities from the world and guide it back to an era of peace.”—

This was the divine oracle the First Holy King had received from the Goddess of Creation. For a millennium thereafter, the Theocracy of Ophelia had diligently followed this oracle, ceaselessly searching for this prophesied Saintess of Salvation.

Alas, a thousand years yielded no results. Slowly, the divine oracle faded into obscurity, and the tale of the Saintess became little more than a legend. Xiamiya herself had always believed it to be so, until she recovered the memories of her past life.

Then, Xiamiya arrived at a stark conclusion. Clearly, legends were nothing but elaborate deceptions. She was merely an illegitimate daughter the Holy King had conceived in the slums, certainly not a Child of Light born under holy radiance.

As for those noble characteristics attributed to the Saintess? They had absolutely nothing to do with her.

Yet, Xiamiya harbored no doubts about her identity as the Saintess.

After all, that memory was too vivid. Moreover… she truly seemed to possess the ability to control Holy Spirit Power, the very strength belonging to the Goddess of Creation, just like the legendary Saintess.

Slowly opening her palm, Xiamiya gazed at the faintly shimmering pale golden light within, her expression growing increasingly dejected.

‘Sigh,’ she thought. ‘I’m clearly the Saintess, but I don’t seem to resemble one in the slightest!’

‘First, I begged for a living in the slums. Then, after coming to the Holy Royal Palace, I was despised and targeted for assassination every single day. And now, I’m constantly watched by a group of monsters, coerced into becoming an evil god, living in fear day in and day out… Am I really the Saintess? Is there such a downtrodden Saintess?’

Gazing at the golden light in her palm, Xiamiya gradually felt a profound sense of existential doubt.

“Alas…”

The moment Xiamiya sighed, her bedroom door quietly opened, and the youth formed by silver energy, You, slowly stepped into her chamber.

Instantly, Xiamiya’s expression changed abruptly. She hurriedly clenched her fists, extinguishing the golden light in her hands.

After all, this power belonged to the Goddess of Creation, and the people of Starfall Palace hated the Goddess of Creation above all else. If they ever discovered she possessed the Goddess of Creation’s power, they would undoubtedly tear her, this fake evil god, into pieces in minutes.

After quickly hiding her hands under the covers, Xiamiya nervously looked at You.

Fortunately, You didn’t seem to notice anything. As usual, he silently floated to the bedside and drew open the curtains.

As the morning sun shone into the room, You respectfully greeted Xiamiya.

“Good morning, Master.”

“Phew…” Xiamiya let out a long breath of relief, revealing a smile she believed to be full of majesty.

“Good morning, You.”

“Please prepare quickly, Master. The meeting is about to begin.”

“Huh? A meeting?” Hearing this, Xiamiya froze, seemingly recalling something. A bead of panicked sweat slowly trickled down her forehead.

“The quarterly Royal Audience, you haven’t forgotten, have you?”

“Ah? Of course, of course not, I remember it,” Xiamiya said, hurriedly scratching her head and smiling foolishly.

Her little heart, which had just barely calmed down, began to thump wildly once more.

“How could I forget something as important as the Royal Audience? Ha, haha, hahaha…”

“It’s good you haven’t forgotten. But, Master, please remember not to do anything that goes against the Evil God’s precepts at this meeting.”

“Hmph, I know. What are you worrying about for nothing?” Xiamiya snorted coldly, and haughtily turned her head away.

‘Well,’ she thought. ‘Although I appear serious on the surface, the thought of facing a group of monsters makes me extremely nervous at this moment.’

Her legs, still covered by the duvet, were already trembling uncontrollably.

‘Wuwuwu, Goddess of Creation, my lady, please, please bless me… bless me not to give myself away…’