A thin mist crept along the cobblestone streets of the Vayne March that morning, shrouding the city like a damp shroud.
Azura had been standing since before the sun could scorch the horizon.
There was no lavish breakfast; an empty stomach was the best reminder to stay sharp.
She only took a sip of cold water, feeling the freezing sensation wash down her throat.
”Prepare the horses.
We’re going to the Cathedral.
Now,” Azura commanded curtly.
Arthur merely nodded, offering no unnecessary interjections.
Within minutes, the rhythmic strike of horseshoes hit the deserted streets, cutting through the cold fog.
The citizens who were beginning to emerge from their homes immediately bowed—no longer driven by flares of rage, but by the instinct of a small animal watching a predator pass.
No stones were thrown.
There was only a silence thick with calculation.
The Northern Cathedral still stood tall, but its aura had turned foul.
The Golden Sun banner that once fluttered arrogantly was gone, leaving only bare wooden poles.
The angel statues on the exterior walls were cracked, their porcelain faces shattered by the mob’s vengeance two days ago—looking like petrified corpses.
At the gate, two knights in Vayne uniforms stood stiffly, their fingers brushing the hilts of their swords warily.
They immediately saluted as Azura dismounted.
”Marchioness.”
”Any rats trying to sneak in?” Azura asked, her eyes sweeping the perimeter sharply.
”No, Your Grace.
Only a few frightened sparrows in the tower.”
Azura gave a small snort, her footsteps thudding firmly as she entered the massive structure.
Arthur followed closely behind, his hand never far from the dagger at his waist.
Inside, the pale morning light pierced through the shattered stained glass, refracting strange colors onto the dull marble.
The air was stifling, carrying the scent of stale incense mixed with years of accumulated dust.
Gulp.
Azura swallowed, feeling the atmosphere of the place which now felt like a grand prison.
In the small room behind the altar, Eliana sat on a hard wooden chair.
Her white gown was still intact, but her appearance was ruined.
Her eyes were vacant, staring at a crack in the floor as if her fate were written there.
The door opened with a painful creak.
Screee.
Eliana looked up.
Azura stood in the doorway, her deep blue cloak sweeping the marble floor like the shadow of death.
In Azura’s hand, a parchment was gripped tightly.
”Get up,” Azura ordered.
Cold and non-negotiable.
Eliana stood with stiff, jerky movements, resembling a doll whose strings were about to snap.
Azura tossed the parchment onto the wooden table in front of the ‘Saintess’.
”Read it.
Memorize every word.”
Eliana touched the parchment with fingertips that trembled violently.
Her eyes moved rapidly across the text, and slowly, the color drained completely from her face.
”This…” her voice caught in her dry throat.
“This will destroy the Church’s foundation to its very roots.”
Azura stared at her without blinking, like a lion watching dying prey.
“That is precisely the point.
I am leveling a building that has already rotted.”
I…
I am one of them.
If I read this in front of the crowd, the Archbishop will label me a heretic.
I will be cursed, I will—”
”You will stay alive,” Azura cut in sharply, each word feeling like cold metal pressed against Eliana’s neck.
“That is a far more luxurious compensation than what the Church offered to my people whom you poisoned.”
Eliana fell silent.
Her breath quickened, her fingers clutching the edges of the parchment until the paper crinkled and groaned.
[System: Scanning…
10/10 broken doll visuals, Boss.
Heart rate is 130 bpm.
Do you want me to add a glitch effect so she panics more, or skip straight to the ‘signing of the hell contract’ part?]
Quiet, System.
Azura stepped forward, closing the distance until the scent of copper from her cloak reached Eliana.
“Hmm…
You once stood on that stage with an angelic smile, calling me a demon.
You watched them vomit black liquid and remained silent.
And now you want me to invest in your fear of the Church?”
Eliana bit her lip until it nearly bled.
Tears began to well up—whether they were remnants of a conscience or merely a survival act, Azura didn’t care.
”I…
I had no choice then.
Malachi dictated everything—”
”I had no choice when I landed in this rotten world either,” Azura cut her off coldly.
“But I didn’t need to poison thousands of people to prove my authority.
There are only two options: read that script, or I will read your death sentence myself in the square.”
Silence fell as heavy as lead.
Only the flapping of birds’ wings in the bell tower broke the tension.
Eliana took a deep breath—the breath of a pawn realizing she had just surrendered her soul to a more powerful demon.
”I…
will read it.”
By midday, the main square was burning again, but not with the fire of a riot.
Thousands of humans swarmed, creating a sea of weary, questioning faces.
There were no shouts.
Tension hung in the air like a noose ready to be pulled.
On the wooden podium where Malachi used to incite the mob, Eliana stood.
Her white gown billowed in the strong wind, contrasting with the grey Vayne sky.
Behind her, Azura stood with arms crossed, her sharp blue eyes monitoring every movement in the crowd.
Arthur stood at her side, on full alert.
Eliana stared at the people who once adored her.
She drew a breath, and then her voice pierced the silence.
”People of Vayne…” Her voice faltered for a moment, but she immediately caught Azura’s cold gaze behind her.
“I stand here not as a Saintess bringing blessings.
I stand here as a witness to sins wrapped in holy robes.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd like a current.
”The bread you ate…
the bread you believed to be a miracle…
was an addictive poison,” Eliana’s voice grew stronger, sharp and painful.
“That substance was designed to paralyze your logic.
They wanted you sick so you would kneel deeper.
They wanted you dependent on the ‘antidote’ they controlled.”
The square exploded. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Some began to roar, others clenched their fists until their knuckles turned white.
”The Church knew.
Malachi knew.
Archbishop Azraeth knew,” Eliana continued, now without hesitation.
“They sent me not to save your souls, but to ensure Vayne collapsed from within so they could plunder what remained.”
”Then why speak only now, Saintess?!” a man shouted from the front row, his eyes red with fury.
Eliana glanced back at Azura for a split second.
Azura remained unmoved, her face a mask of cold porcelain.
”Because the Marchioness of Vayne gave me the one thing the Church did not: the bitter truth,” Eliana turned back to the masses.
“As of today, I shed the robes of the Golden Sun.
I will no longer serve an altar that smells of rot.
I serve the Silver Lion.
I serve Vayne!”
Silence followed.
Total.
Then, an old woman in the crowd raised her trembling hand.
“Now that is an honest Saintess!”
The square erupted into a deafening roar.
Malachi’s name was shouted with curses, Azraeth’s name was spat upon.
All the rage previously directed at Azura now reversed course, slamming into the shadows of the Church.
Azura remained silent.
Her cold eyes watched the scene with measured satisfaction.
Her investment had paid off.
[System: Ding!
Public Opinion Manipulation: 100/10.
Boss, you really made the Church look like a low-tier drug cartel.
Victory Soundtrack: Epic Power Metal.]
Eliana stepped down from the podium with trembling legs.
She passed Azura without daring to raise her face.
”Return to your room in the Cathedral,” Azura whispered as Eliana passed.
“You are still a useful asset.
Do not ruin yourself with unnecessary thoughts.”
Eliana paused for a moment, nodded weakly, and was escorted away by the Vayne guards.
That night, the Northern Cathedral returned to its haunting silence.
Eliana sat alone in the room behind the altar.
The food in front of her was cold, untouched.
Only one small candle flickered, casting a long shadow that looked like iron bars against the stone wall.
She stared at her hands, which were still shaking.
Today, she had burned all her bridges.
There was no forgiveness from the Altar.
No way home to the embrace of the Church.
There was only one choice left in this world: serve Azura Vayne, or vanish as a corpse.
Eliana covered her face.
She didn’t cry; her tears were dry.
She just sat in silence, feeling the chill of the Cathedral which now felt like a new golden cage.
Yet, in the darkest corner of her heart, there was a strange sense of relief.
For the first time, she didn’t have to pretend to be holy.
She only needed to be an obedient pawn.