Chapter 26 : You’re Enjoying the Saintess Game, Aren’t You

“O Goddess of Light, embodiment of dawn, eternal radiance that banishes darkness—your holy glow blesses the earth, granting hope and salvation to all. Your wings shelter the faithful, your sacred blade severs the chains of evil. May your light endure among us, guiding us to the divine shore.”

Inside the Holy Radiance Cathedral, Saintess Lillian led the congregation in reciting the Hymn of Light.

As she reached “eternal radiance,” a shower of light rained from the ceiling.

Tiny golden motes swirled around her, settling on her pristine white robes—a garment of pure elegance, modest yet regal, perfectly framing her slender, poised figure.

To the worshipers, she was divine.

A living vessel of grace.

An avatar of the Goddess herself.

Among the sea of reverence, only Eileen—Stacy in disguise—smirked.

“After all this time… the Church is still the same old show.”

She could recite every ritual by heart.

Once the hymn ended, the faithful lined up for Holy Water Baptism—purging their sins, they claimed. Only then would the Goddess’s mercy fall upon them.

As one by one they stepped forward, Stacy remained seated.

Too many eyes here. Too early to make contact.

In the quiet wait, a thought amused her:
If I brought Milly here… would she be fooled by this saintly aura too?

Would Milly fall for it like the others?

Unlikely.

But if Milly saw Lillian’s face—she’d probably hide.

Because the Saintess had her face.

The same sharp features. The same elegant curves. The same height, build, even posture.

Like two copies from the same mold.

The only differences?

Hair. Eyes.

Lillian’s flowing golden locks—symbol of purity.

Her deep violet eyes—like twilight irises.

Remove those, and they were identical.

Yet polar opposites in fate:
One, the Fell God, a stain on the Empire.
The other, the Saintess, a beacon of holiness.

After the baptism, the Church offered Sacred Bread to each believer.

Stacy didn’t need it.

But Milly hadn’t eaten in two days.

She took a piece, wrapped it, and slipped it into her maid’s pocket.

As the distribution began, she noticed Lillian quietly leaving.

This was routine—the Saintess always retreated to the Confession Chamber during this time.

Stacy followed.

“Still doing this every time, I see.”

She pushed open the door.

Dim candlelight flickered in the small chamber.

Lillian knelt before the statue of the Goddess, whispering prayers—pleading for forgiveness.

Stacy raised a silence barrier, sealing the room.

Hearing movement, Lillian turned.

Seeing “Eileen,” she exhaled—relieved.

“Ah, Miss Eileen. Have you come to atone before the Goddess?”

She stood, smiling gently.

But Eileen’s expression was mocking.

“What? Does our beloved Saintess have sins so grave she must beg forgiveness?”

Lillian kept her smile, though her voice stayed calm.

“All are born with sin. To live is to carry guilt. Seeking redemption is no crime.”

She tilted her head. “And as I recall, Miss Eileen visits this chamber daily too. Are we not the same?”

But then—she felt it.

A familiar presence beneath the disguise.

Her smile froze.

“…It’s you.”

Holy light flared in her palm—launched.

No hesitation.

Before Stacy could react, Lillian began chanting—fast, precise.

On the final syllable—

A Sword of Judgment formed above her, blazing with divine energy.

She raised her arms, channeling all her power.

With a cry, she slammed it down.

Blinding white light consumed the chamber.

A thunderous explosion shook the cathedral.

The ground trembled.

Panting, Lillian stared at the spot where “Eileen” had stood.

Gone.

Only ash should remain.

But as the light faded—

Eileen stood there.

Unharmed.

Smirking wider.

“Enjoying the Saintess game, aren’t you? You’ve gotten weaker since last time.”

Tendrils erupted from her skirt, coiling around Lillian’s neck.

Choking.

Lillian clawed at them—only making Stacy tighten her grip.

“Ghk… Stacy… what do you want?”

The Fell God had come.

There had to be a reason.

Lillian suspected—yet waited for confirmation.

“Just a small question for my dear Saintess.” Stacy spat the title like poison.

The tendril loosened.

Lillian collapsed, gasping.

She glared at the woman before her—hate burning in her violet eyes.

But she knew.

Resistance was pointless.

Stacy could take her mind with a touch.

“Ask.”

“The Empire plans to send elite squads to destroy me. Will the Pope himself descend?”

The squads didn’t concern her.

The Pope? Not really.

But what he represented—the true power behind the Church—that was the threat.

She needed to know if they would act.

If so—she’d have to accelerate Milly’s transformation.

Lillian hesitated. Bit her lip.

Then whispered:

“In ten days, at midnight… they attack from the north. The Pope will lead them. And…”

For five minutes, she detailed the squads: members, gear, special weapons prepared to counter Stacy.

The rest was irrelevant.

But the special weapons?

Now that caught Stacy’s interest.

Still, Lillian didn’t know their nature—classified, even from the Saintess.

Stacy believed her. No need to press further.

So many forces… The Empire’s finest. Specialized arms. A full-scale extermination.

Perfect.

The more they prepared, the sweeter their defeat would be.

She couldn’t wait to crush their hopes—publicly.

As for the weapon?

She’d crush it before their eyes.

Mission complete.

Time to return.

To check on Milly.

To speed things up.

Before leaving, she glanced back.

“I’ve sealed the room. No one will know what happened. You can keep playing your little Saintess game, my dear Saintess~”

Back in “Eileen’s” form, she stepped out—just as a familiar figure passed by.

The Pope paused. Frowned.

He’d sensed something… familiar.

He opened the door.

Lillian had already composed herself.

“Who was that just now?”