The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

"Saintess, this is my son. Please grant him your blessing so that he may navigate this harsh world."

A ceremony held regularly in the grand cathedral.

Those who offer donations receive blessings from the Saintess.

Previously, this was performed by high-ranking priests, but ever since the Saintess appeared, the ceremony had gained immense popularity.

Word had spread far and wide, and now people—wealthy merchants and nobles alike—flocked from outside the Holy Kingdom, eager to receive the Saintess’s blessing in exchange for generous donations.

But Elise stood there with a vacant expression.

"Saintess?"

"Ah... yes?"

"They are waiting for your blessing."

"Ah... right."

Elise snapped back to reality. In front of her stood a young boy who seemed to have only just begun speaking properly, accompanied by his father.

Elise placed her hand atop the boy’s head.

"One day, you will walk alone through the wilderness of the world. The wind will howl, storms will rage, and at times, you will lose your way and wander."

She continued her prayer.

"But do not forget. Just as the ground lies beneath your feet and the sky stretches above your head, the god of order will always be by your side. So do not be afraid."

Closing her eyes, Elise traced a small cross with her fingertips.

"May the god of order be with you, so that you may walk your path with confidence."

A faint light flickered from her fingertips, and the candles filling the cathedral trembled ever so slightly.

"Thank you. Now, show your gratitude to the Saintess."

"Thank youuu."

The boy and his father bowed deeply in gratitude. Elise offered the child a gentle smile.

As they left the cathedral, Elise let out a shallow sigh, taking a moment to steady her breath.

"Saintess, are you feeling unwell?"

"I feel especially drained today."

"Then we shall conclude the ceremony here. I will inform the others."

"I’m sorry."

"Your well-being takes precedence, Saintess."

Elise exhaled once more.

Her chest felt tight.

"I’d like to get some fresh air."

"I’ll make the preparations immediately."

Before long, Elise stepped outside the cathedral, accompanied only by a minimal number of attendants.

To avoid attracting attention, she had changed out of her ceremonial robes, donning modest attire for an ordinary outing, her face concealed beneath a hood.

As she walked down the main street, exhaustion was written all over her face.

There was no particular reason.

She simply couldn’t shake off Karami’s words from the previous night. She had lost sleep over them, replaying them in her mind over and over again.

Karami had claimed he would do anything for the slaves.

So Elise had dared to ask—would he fall into ruin with her?

—"Why would I do that? I’m not an idiot."

His response had been curt, cutting straight to the point.

And in that moment, Elise had thought—

—"Of course. Falling into ruin together would be foolish. I asked something too obvious."

With that self-deprecating remark, she had fled from the inn.

"Hah..."

She hadn’t expected sincerity from the start.

It had only been words.

If he had merely humored her with a meaningless lie, she would have been satisfied, smiling as she let it go.

'Yes, even if he’s this kind of man, at least I have someone.'

It would have been a mutually beneficial exchange—he would have gained her trust, and she would have had someone to rely on.

But Karami had rejected her.

He had chosen a path where both of them lost.

Normally, he spoke with a casual ease, offering words that could shake a person’s heart, but when it truly mattered, he cowardly turned away.

If he was going to do that, he shouldn’t have sweet-talked her in the first place.

He made her hope, only to betray her at the very end.

'No.'

It wasn’t betrayal.

It was simply the natural course of things.

Who in this world would walk the path of ruin with a mere slave?

The only foolish one was herself, for allowing herself to be swayed by him.

The unfairness of it all made her eyes sting with unshed tears.

"Hmm?"

But as if to remind her that a vampire could only shed blood, a sudden commotion shattered her thoughts.

At first, she assumed it was just the usual bustle of the marketplace.

But as she drew closer, she realized it wasn’t ordinary noise.

Elise came to a halt.

In the middle of the square, a woman was bound by coarse rope.

Her clothes were torn and filthy, her hair disheveled.

"A witch! She has spread her curses!"

"Burn her! Let us judge her in the name of the god of order!"

"No! I am not a witch! I have never spread any curses!"

The woman screamed.

But her cries reached no one.

They were swallowed by the storm of the mob’s fury.

Torches were raised high as the crowd chanted.

Some hurled stones, others hurled curses.

Elise narrowed her eyes.

"What is this?"

"A witch. She infiltrated the Holy Kingdom during the recent unrest and was caught."

A standard witch hunt.

Even now, wicked witches lurked in the shadows of the world.

"Did she do anything?"

"Not yet. But why else would a witch sneak into the Holy Kingdom? Her purpose is obvious."

Unlike in the past, witches no longer committed open atrocities.

But they could turn at any moment.

They were nothing more than criminals waiting to strike, poised to shatter the order of the world.

That was what a witch was.

Even granting them a trial was a luxury.

"Would you like to watch? It might lift your spirits."

"To watch, huh..."

Elise gazed silently at the woman bound before her.

At a glance, she ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) looked no different from an ordinary person. In fact, to Elise, she seemed more human than she herself did.

There were times when a witch didn’t even realize she was one.

But in the face of rage, truth didn’t matter.

No one would listen to her voice.

Even though the liquid streaming from the woman’s eyes was tears, not blood.

Brutal violence.

The madness of branding a single person as absolute evil.

And the fact that all of it was done "in the name of God."

Elise began to walk forward, slowly.

No one paid any attention to her presence.

Within the furious crowd, she recognized familiar faces.

Faces that had, just moments ago, knelt before her, fervently praying for her blessing.

The boy and his father, who had come to receive her blessing at the grand cathedral.

The same people who had knelt before her, pleading with desperation.

Now, they were here, watching the witch hunt unfold.

"Father, why is that lady like that?"

At his son’s question, the father spoke firmly.

"Witches are sinners. And sinners must be punished. We, as the servants of God, are carrying out His will."

For a fleeting moment, Elise felt as if her heart had plummeted into a bottomless pit.

The words she had spoken in her blessings echoed in her mind.

And now, before this fire, she realized just how hollow they truly were.

If God truly existed, what would He say upon witnessing this?

The ones who had longed for salvation were now shoving another into the flames.

A woman who had committed no crime—branded as a witch simply for being born one.

Was this absurd order truly what God desired?

Her fingertips grew cold.

The cries of the crowd grew louder.

Somewhere, a torch was flung forward.

The flames caught on the dry kindling, spreading rapidly.

Heat surged into the air, smoke rising into the sky.

The woman, branded a witch, curled in on herself in terror.

The ropes dug into her skin, her lips trembled.

She struggled, but there was no escape.

And yet—

No one cared.

Hands drew the sign of the cross.

Lips called upon the name of God.

None of them questioned their actions.

As if they were carrying out some sacred ritual.

The same lips that had just received a blessing were now uttering curses.

"...How amusing."

A smile curled at Elise’s lips.

This was the true face of those who claimed to pursue order.

Of course.

What else could be expected from those who believed in God?

She had been utterly mistaken in thinking that becoming a Saintess would change anything.

It was as if the tangled threads in her mind had suddenly unraveled.

"Saintess?"

Elise took a step forward.

At that moment, a sharp gust of wind blew through.

The hem of her robe fluttered, and her hood was swept away.

Ignoring the calls of her guards, she stepped into the heart of the commotion.

It wasn’t until she approached the burning pyre that the crowd finally noticed her.

"Who is that?"

"Wait, isn’t that the Saintess?"

"Why is the Saintess here...?"

"Why else? She must have come to pass judgment herself!"

No one found it strange.

There was no reason to be surprised.

To them, the Saintess was also a servant of God.

It was only natural that she would support this judgment.

Elise slowly approached the woman bound to the stake.

"Saintess, it’s dangerous to get too close. You might be tainted."

"That’s right. We will handle it, please step back."

The fact that they were concerned for her well-being amused Elise.

She raised her hand.

The crowd expected a radiant holy light to shine forth.

But what they witnessed—

Was not light.

It was darkness.

A deafening roar erupted.

A bloodcurdling scream.

An unseen force exploded outward.

The neatly arranged cobblestones shattered.

The flames raged wildly.

People were flung backward, collapsing onto their knees.

Only after a moment did the stunned crowd lift their heads.

"...A vampire?"

"A vampire? The Saintess? What kind of joke—"

But it was no joke.

The person standing before them was Elise.

But she was no longer the Saintess they revered—no longer the loving savior of mankind.

A pair of black wings fluttered behind her.

Her ears were longer than a human’s.

Her fangs had emerged.

A vampire.

The very creature the faithful loathed above all else.

The Saintess was a vampire.

The sheer absurdity of it froze the crowd in place, as if time itself had stopped.

The people who had been so fervent in their witch hunt stood petrified, turned to stone.

And in that stillness, only Elise moved.

With a single gesture, she extinguished the flames.

The believers, still dazed, simply stared at her.

Elise, as always, curled her lips into a smile.

But this time, no one found comfort in it.

No one smiled back.

There was only an overwhelming, bottomless dread.

"In the name of the Saintess, I now declare—"

"From this moment on, the order of the Church shall be rewritten."