Stia (Part 2)

Her intuition had not been wrong.

After all, only that person could possibly wield her power.

The young girl walked straight toward the stone coffin.

Her crystal-like, exquisite low-cut holy boots clicked crisply against the floor of the secret chamber, and the silk ribbons tied around her fair, delicate ankles fluttered gently with her movements.

Finally, the girl stopped directly in front of the stone coffin.

She removed her gloves, her hands as smooth and delicate as jade forming a sharp contrast with the rough, charred remains of the fire-ravaged, dilapidated stone coffin.

Yet, the girl seemed completely unaware of this, turning a blind eye to the dust as she placed her hands directly onto the coffin and bowed her head to stroke it gently.

Behind her, the three nuns suppressed the urge to speak up and warn the Saintess.

After all, in their eyes, the Saintess was holy and flawless; how could she touch such filthy things? She had even taken off her gloves!

However.

If that scene alone was enough to make Maria and the others feel uneasy, the very next moment was enough to make the three nuns cry out in shock.

Because, as it turned out, she seemed to feel that merely stroking it was not enough.

Far from enough.

The girl's figure flickered, and in the next instant, she had laid her entire body inside the stone coffin.

"Lady Saintess!!"

At this point, Maria, as the archbishop, could no longer endure it.

At the mere thought of their most holy and noble Saintess pressing her entire body against such a filthy, broken, and incomplete stone coffin, Maria felt as uncomfortable as if ants were crawling all over her.

The archbishop hurried forward, intending to stop the Saintess's actions.

Sometimes, being someone else's object of faith is just like this; one must maintain a pristine image in the public eye.

And the girl had always been like this for hundreds of years.

She gave the refugees hope for life.

She pointed the way for the lost.

She brought joy to the people.

She became the faith of the people.

But today.

This time.

Lying in the stone coffin, the girl no longer radiated that holy brilliance; instead, she merged with the darkness within the coffin.

Those eyes, as clear and transparent as sapphires, transformed into a deep crimson at the very moment Maria moved.

Hum!

Outside the stone coffin, Archbishop Maria's figure came to an abrupt halt. A look of agony appeared on her face. Maria opened her mouth as if to call for help, but she could not make a single sound, as if an invisible hand were tightly gripping her throat.

The two nuns following behind noticed Maria's strange state and hurriedly tried to step forward, but the crosses on their chests began to flicker. This time, the holy light did not stand on their side; instead, it pinned them to the spot, rendering them unable to move in the slightest.

Interference eliminated.

Finally.

The girl in the stone coffin could enjoy herself to her heart's content.

She writhed her graceful body, as if the place she lay were not a cold, rigid stone coffin, but some incredibly soft and comfortable bed.

The girl.

No.

Stia, writhing within the stone coffin, took a deep breath toward the coffin.

Instantly, spots of vibrant pink appeared on her snow-white skin, and a look of intoxication and indulgence surfaced on the face that was meant to be the noble countenance of a Saintess.

That's right.

This scent, this scent!

The girl gasped.

Stia took several more deep, forceful breaths.

The proud bosom beneath her holy vestments heaved and swayed violently.

The familiar scent, the familiar feeling, the familiar taste.

There could be no mistake.

This is...

Lord Ash!

My Lord Ash!

Stia's body, lying within the stone coffin, trembled uncontrollably. Her crystal-clear eyes were filled with a hazy, unfocused light. The young girl reached out a hand, gently tracing every inch of the coffin's interior walls, as if she were caressing the person who had once lain there.

"Five hundred years."

"Five hundred years, my Lord Ash, you... you have finally."

"I knew you were still out there. I knew you would return. My Lord Ash, my Lord Ash."

The girl inside the stone coffin continued to mutter to herself, her speech growing faster and more frantic with every passing second.

Outside the coffin, the three nuns, though physically restrained, still possessed their senses. Hearing the girl's murmurs from within, they were overcome with panic and a profound sense of alienation. Was this truly still their Saintess?

It was fortunate the coffin was not transparent. Had Maria seen the series of twisted, contorted movements the girl was making inside, her faith would have shattered completely, and she would have surely believed the world had gone mad.

However.

Even the voice began to sound increasingly wrong.

"Why, why did you suddenly disappear? Did Stia do something wrong? Did Stia make you angry?"

"Why. Why did you abandon us? Why did you make Stia endure five hundred years of torment? Why. Why!!!"

In the ears of the three nuns, within the silent secret chamber, the girl's voice from inside the coffin grew increasingly frantic and shrill.

In the end, it rapidly devolved into a morbid, pathological laughter that was entirely foreign to Maria, the Archbishop, chilling her to the very marrow of her bones.

"Hehehehe."

"I understand now. It must be that you, my Lord Ash, were trying to hide from those four, right?"

"You let them believe you were gone so that you could be with me—so you could be with Stia forever. No one will ever come between us again."

The girl's voice remained as crisp and ethereal as ever.

She spoke with a sense of glee and joy, like a little girl about to open a display case to take home the favorite toy she had longed for.

Stia, inside the stone coffin, curled her lips into a smile—a smile of pure bliss.

Her eyes were filled with anticipation for the beautiful future to come.

In her eyes.

They were filled with a maddening, blood-red hue.

"My Lord Ash, don't worry! This time, Stia will never leave your side again, and I will never let you leave me either. I will keep you by my side forever, so that you belong only to Stia."

"This time, no one will ever be able to take you from me again—not even you, my Lord Ash."

"Let us be together forever, forever, hehehehehe."

The girl's originally sea-blue hair turned a deep, dark red.

The holy boots on her feet transformed into blood-red stilettos adorned with barbs, the religious hood atop her head morphed into a crown of thorns, and her pure white holy gown was, in that instant, rapidly dyed a pitch-black darkness.

A powerful surge of Corrupt Calamity corruption erupted from within the stone coffin, causing the very space of the secret chamber to seem to warp. Under the impact, the two nuns with weaker cultivation fainted instantly. Maria, the Archbishop, struggled to hold on, but soon she too collapsed, blood leaking from her facial orifices.

Beautiful moments are always fleeting.

The girl's true body was still far away, located in the Confession Room of the Holy Kingdom's grand cathedral. The current Stia was merely a light-projection avatar, temporarily manifested using the believers as a medium.

This avatar had begun to crumble.

It could no longer withstand her power.

Reluctantly, the girl rose from the stone coffin.

Stia did not even spare a glance for the three believers lying on the floor of the chamber.

She gazed toward the exit of the room.

That was the direction in which Liao Ji and Irin had departed.

The girl desperately wanted to chase after them, but she was unwilling to let her Lord Ash see her in such a wretched state. She had to appear before him in her most perfect form.

Therefore. It was not yet time.

She still needed to make some preparations.

Of course, it would not take long.

Very soon, they would meet again.

Please wait just a little longer, my Lord Ash.

Stia suppressed the longing and impulse within her heart.

The girl reached toward the back of her neck.

Under the crimson glow of the surrounding Corrupt Calamity, one could see a brand on the nape of Stia's neck—a mark that had completely faded, worn ragged by the relentless passage of time.

This seemed to be the girl's most precious possession.

And this time.

She would not let "them" share this treasure with her again.

After all.

"The Contract of Lord Ash can only, and is only permitted to, be possessed by Stia alone!"

With the corners of her mouth curled upward.

Blood-red high heels tapped out a light, rhythmic pace.

Within the blurred vision of the fallen Archbishop Maria, she saw the Saintess finally walking toward her, though the Saintess did not reach out to help her up, but instead placed a hand upon her head.

"You have worked hard all these years, Maria."

"So, get some good sleep."

".Good night."