Chapter: 48
Saint Phoebe of the Church of the Lord had heard plenty of stories about a certain individual named Lucy Allen.
It was only natural, considering Lucy Allen was quite the notorious figure within the Church of the Lord.
Though, it’s safe to say her reputation wasn’t exactly sparkling.
When she showed up at the church, she boldly denied the existence of God.
She vandalized church property.
She hurled eggs at statues.
She verbally and physically assaulted priests.
And during service, she made a grand entrance and completely disrupted everything.
The tales from those who hailed from the Arlen territory’s church were nothing short of jaw-dropping.
As Phoebe absorbed these stories, she couldn’t shake the desire to meet Lucy, curious about what kind of inner turmoil made her scream and cause chaos.
Phoebe had always firmly believed that there were no truly evil people born into this world.
She thought it was merely the various experiences of growing up that twisted a person toward evil, and with a little help from those around them, they could return to their true, good-natured selves.
Having saved countless souls throughout her life, Phoebe never once doubted this conviction.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could someday meet Lucy, hear her story, and guide her toward a better path?
Oh, how lovely that notion was, yet it remained just a dream.
As the saint of the Church, Phoebe wasn’t exactly granted the freedom to wander off and do as she pleased.
Later, Phoebe heard Lucy’s name again, when word spread in the holy land that she had cured Agra’s curse.
“Lucy Allen discovered a hidden location in Evans’ dungeon, guided by Armadi.”
“That place was where Paladin Ruel’s mace had been hidden.”
“Having overcome her trials, Lucy obtained Ruel’s mace, along with a miracle-infused potion.”
“With her newfound guidance, she fortuitously found a person dying from Agra’s curse in Evans and cured him with that potion.”
The report from the Arlen church was jam-packed with events that could only be described as miraculous.
Had this come from the pen of an ordinary person, it might have been dismissed as pure nonsense.
But the author of this report was none other than Bishop Johan.
He was the closest candidate for the next pope, a man whose public and private lives seemed almost entirely separated, like they were two different dimensions.
Since he wouldn’t report anything unverified, the truth of all that was inscribed must have been beyond doubt.
Bishop Johan’s report stirred up a massive ruckus in the holy land.
How could the impious Young Lady from Arlen possibly receive guidance from Armadi?
Is it wise to entrust Ruel’s mace to that unruly scamp?
The mace, which had completely vanished, had suddenly resurfaced. Was Johan under some sort of spell?
Many voices arose, and most of them decidedly weren’t singing sweet praises.
The whispers of this scuttlebutt soon grew turbulent in what was typically a tranquil holy land.
But the current pope of the Church quieted all the chatter with one simple phrase: “If Armadi seeks to embrace the wayward child, should we question His intentions?”
Phoebe couldn’t help but align her thoughts with the pope’s.
The benevolent Armadi would never engage in meaningless actions.
As one who lived under Him, trusting in Armadi’s will and allowing things to be wasn’t just right—it was essential.
Two months passed, and upon entering Soul Academy to take the entrance exam, Phoebe heard Lucy’s name once more.
This time, however, it wasn’t either praise or blame.
Nope, it was tied to an incident that had occurred at the Soul Academy.
At the time of the mishap, Phoebe was tackling a dungeon conquest exam and had no clue about the chaos outside.
It wasn’t until she finished her exam and stepped outside that she learned something awful had happened.
As soon as Phoebe emerged from the dungeon, a priest assigned to assist her rushed over, ready to fill her in on the academy exam incident.
“Agra intervened in the academy’s dungeon.”
“Joy Partan, Lucy Allen, and Jacob Leeds got caught up in it…”
Joy?!
Hearing her friend was hurt sent Phoebe sprinting straight for the church to check on Joy’s condition.
Fortunately, Joy was merely in a deep sleep, with hardly a scratch on her.
Though Phoebe, being a priest herself, knew there was no need to worry about Joy, she simply couldn’t tear herself away from her side.
She feared losing one of her few friends.
As time passed—how long had it been?
Only when evening twinkled in did Joy finally open her eyes, prompting Phoebe to pull her into a tight embrace.
Once awake, Joy bombarded Phoebe with questions.
“How did I get rescued? What happened to the ones who went in with me?”
After Phoebe answered all she could, Joy sighed in relief.
“I’m glad everyone’s okay.”
“Right?”
Phoebe, however, refrained from prying into Joy’s experiences inside the dungeon.
She knew such questions could spark painful memories.
Instead, she asked Joy about everyday things.
Recent joys. Stories about family. Updates on friends.
Joy caught on to Phoebe’s intentions yet still played along.
Lucy’s name popped up repeatedly in her tales.
“Well, can you believe that person? She showed up at Tierra Mars and called me a clueless young lady?!”
“Everything she says just irks me! Talking to her is a surefire way to get angry!”
“Yet she must have a talent for transforming, as she’s hardly the same person she was a couple of months ago.”
Though Joy voiced her disdain—“I don’t like her. She’s annoying!”—Phoebe sensed there was an undercurrent of sincerity.
“Are you secretly fond of the young lady?”
“Of course not!”
“Joy.”
When Phoebe called her name softly, Joy, who had been fumbling for words, paused, rubbed her face, and finally spoke.
“Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Lady Allen, I wouldn’t even be here. She’s practically my savior.”
Phoebe listened quietly as Joy unloaded her heart, beginning with those words.
She thought they’d conquered a dungeon only to find a new one surfacing.
The floor collapsed, forcing her in that dungeon.
She faced monsters that nearly spelled her doom.
And then… and then, there was more.
Phoebe grasped Joy’s hand, sensing she was too choked up to continue.
She stayed beside her, calming Joy down as her body trembled, perhaps reliving that fear.
The following day, while chatting with the bishop at Soul Academy, Phoebe stumbled upon Lucy’s name yet again.
“Lady Allen wishes to be baptized.”
Upon hearing this from the church priest, Phoebe decided she would personally conduct Lucy Allen’s baptism.
The bishop, well aware of Lucy’s infamous reputation, frantically tried to dissuade Phoebe, fearing that Lucy might harm the saint, but Phoebe stood her ground.
Her curiosity about Lucy as an individual fueled her determination, alongside the urge to express her gratitude towards the person who saved her friend.
Ultimately, Phoebe succeeded in voicing her standpoint.
The first time she laid eyes on Lucy Allen, she was struck by how adorable she was!
With deep pink hair and eyes as vibrant as spring fruit, she certainly didn’t fit the bill of a nefarious character, no matter how one looked at her.
“Nice to meet you, Sloppy Saint.”
The moment those words escaped Lucy’s lips, Phoebe realized why such rumors had circulated.
Sloppy Saint?!
Having surrounded herself with people who continually treated her with solemnity, Phoebe was taken aback by the audacity of such a comment.
Yet, she kept her reaction under wraps.
According to Joy, Lucy Allen had a sharp tongue but a heart of gold.
It couldn’t possibly be meant with malice…
“So, how’s the baptism supposed to play out? Sloppy Saint?”
As “Sloppy Saint” echoed from Lucy yet again, Phoebe felt her lips stiffening progressively.
It was peculiar.
Despite all her experiences, she had never felt the urge to rage against anyone.
Being human, she certainly had moments of hurt and irritation, yet she had never expressed her emotions outwardly.
Yet somehow, everything Lucy said felt like it was prodding at some buried part of Phoebe’s heart.
“Sloppy Saintess?”
“Oh, yes. Just do as I ask, Lady Allen.”
“Yup. Got it!”
Lucy’s answer hardly raised any eyebrows in its normality.
However, that hand gesture—covering her mouth—
The glint in her eyes seemed to mock, “And you really think you can do this?”
The distinctly condescending arch of her brows felt like a relentless poke to Phoebe’s innards.
Determined to put on a brave face, Phoebe resolved to wrap up the baptism as quickly as possible and take her leave.
Something about her today felt rather off.
“Let’s proceed without further delay.”
Phoebe declared and clasped her hands, whispering a prayer in her mind.
“Armadi, a lamb seeking Your grace stands here.”
With that, a holy aura enveloped Lucy, forming a magical barrier around her.
“Just remain still, Lady Allen.”
The baptism in the Church of the Lord commences with standing under sacred magic.
Then, under this power, one confesses all wrongdoings before God, pledging to live righteously henceforth, before finally embracing the magic surrounding her.
Having conducted this kind of baptism countless times, Phoebe assumed this one would flow just as smoothly.
But it was different.
The magic encircling Lucy was entirely unlike anything Phoebe had ever seen while performing baptism rituals.
This divine energy, rich and profound, blurred the surroundings, appearing as if Armadi himself was bestowing a miracle upon Lucy.
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