Chapter 10: This Saint is Obviously Super Strong But Excessively Timid
Under Flora’s holy light, not only did the zombies on the ground turn to ash and their souls find peace, but even the dust in the house was cleansed. The golden light lingered even after Flora stopped casting the spell, illuminating the unlit hall. A faint sound of hymns echoed in their ears. All that remained on the ground were the armor and clothes the mercenaries had worn and Leiner’s shredded corpse—even the corpse had been purified by the powerful holy light, with all traces of blood and fear-induced filth gone.
Flora looked at her hands in astonishment. She had thought that she could no longer use Divine Arts after becoming undead—and that was usually the case. Divine Arts, regardless of their nature, were highly damaging to the undead. When it came to dealing with naturally occurring undead and eliminating necromancers, the priests in the Church who could use Divine Arts always prided themselves on being a professional team. The reason was simple: they just had to cast any Divine Art on the undead, and the undead would naturally be harmed. Higher-level undead were simply more resilient.
In gaming terms, Divine Arts dealt true damage to the undead, which couldn’t be mitigated.
However, this ironclad rule, recognized by the Church and everyone else, was broken by Abyss.
Looking at the smile on Abyss’s face, Flora quickly asked, “Why am I not harmed? Why is your necromancy different from that of ordinary necromancers?”
“It’s easy to understand once you figure out the principle of how Divine Arts harm the undead,” Abyss said, poking Flora’s palm where she had just released the holy light. “Divine Arts are channeled through prayer to guide the power of the gods into magical effects. Their essence is the power of the world’s origin. Ordinary undead, on the other hand, are the deceased who shouldn’t have been resurrected, existences that violate the rules of the world. When they come into contact with the power of the origin, they are automatically corrected by that power, hence the unavoidable damage.”
“So, am I not violating the rules of the world?” Flora asked, puzzled. “I’m also undead. My heart isn’t beating, and my blood isn’t flowing, but I can still move freely.”
“I used the power of the world’s origin to awaken you,” Abyss said, spreading his hands. “The world’s origin won’t correct its own creation, which means I exploited a loophole.”
“You know Divine Arts too?” Flora looked at Abyss in shock.
“I chatted with the soul of a Divine Arts user from the Church. He taught me everything he knew. With his knowledge, I accidentally stumbled into the realm of the gods and took a stroll around the Divine Realm,” Abyss said casually, as if he had just spent a day in a nearby garden.
Flora found it hard to believe, but she said with anticipation, “Then can you tell me about the nine deities? I’m very curious!” After witnessing so many impossible things, Flora had developed an instinctive trust in Abyss’s ability to create miracles. This single day had been more eventful and exciting than a year of her previous life.
“They’re actually just workers, like the cleaning staff in a tavern,” Abyss said. “If you’re interested, I’ll tell you more on the way. For now, why don’t you use some other Divine Arts? You seemed happy when you used Divine Arts earlier, and I’d like to see for myself how strong the legendary Saint Flora really is.”
Despite his calm demeanor, Abyss was still intensely interested in Flora’s abilities. His necromancy was powerful, but Flora’s Divine Arts were not far behind.
The Holy Light spell Flora had just used was only the most basic one. When used by an ordinary Divine Arts user, it would at most sting the enemy’s eyes, with a light source about the size of a rugby ball. But Flora’s spell had cleansed the entire house. Abyss had peeked out the windows, and the previously grimy windows were now sparkling clean. This astonishing effect went far beyond practicality.
Flora nodded and began chanting another melodious prayer. It was a language with intricate pronunciation and a pleasant melody, specifically used for praying for Divine Arts. It was said to have been passed down from the first human who communicated with the gods in ancient times. It was very difficult to learn, and only priests and other high-ranking clergy in the Church were qualified to study it.
Her entire body emitted a dazzling golden glow, and an invisible wave erupted from her, sweeping across everything nearby at an incredible speed.
“Ah!” Flora was startled by her own display. “I just wanted to use a small-scale Divine Art…”
“Congratulations, the radius of your Divine Art just now was at least one hundred kilometers,” Abyss said, clapping lightly. “Was that the basic Tranquility spell? Based on what I felt, the residents of nearby villages and cities probably won’t have nightmares for a few months. Public order in the city will be much better.”
“You felt it?” Flora’s face flushed slightly. She wondered why she could still blush even though her blood wasn’t flowing. “I saw that you were very angry just now, so I wanted to use the Tranquility spell to make you feel better.”
“Your concern alone is enough to calm me down. I’m as peaceful as a rock troll’s skull now,” Abyss laughed and couldn’t help but reach out and stroke Flora’s hair.
Flora instinctively wanted to stop him, but she didn’t dislike the feeling of his soft, slightly cool fingers running through her hair.
“I haven’t used Divine Arts for too long. I can’t quite control the scale now,” Flora said sheepishly. “I got a bit carried away just now.”
“Feel free to get carried away in front of me,” Abyss said, walking over to Leiner’s corpse and bending down to pick up a severed hand that had been cleansed by the Holy Light spell. “I’ve read your story. You were chosen as a Saint candidate at the age of three, entered the Church for education, assumed the position at twelve, and died at seventeen—in other words, you probably didn’t have much freedom in your childhood and youth, right?”
“Eh? Yes… that’s right…”
“Now you’re not the Saint of the Church anymore. You’re my Flora, my follower,” Abyss said, holding the severed hand and giving it a charcoal pencil. He then took out the previous request notice from his pocket, and the severed hand automatically signed its name on the notice. “So you’re free. You can be willful, you can act spoiled in front of me. You have the right, and the power, to fulfill your own wishes.”
“Ah… really…”
“I have no reason to lie to you,” Abyss turned back and smiled at Flora. “But, speaking of which, can your Divine Arts conjure up an inkpad? I want Leiner’s hand to stamp his fingerprint on the request notice so I can collect the reward from the guild.”
“N… no…” Flora was completely bewildered by the sudden change of topic.
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