The night stood still.
Wind drifted quietly across the empty road where the woman knelt beneath the moon, her small knife trembling in her hand. The stars above shone faintly through drifting clouds, their pale light spilling across the silent land.
Behind her—
Something changed.
The Saintess' body trembled.
Light began to gather around her slowly, like the first glow of dawn after endless darkness. It wasn't violent. It wasn't explosive.
It was gentle.
But unstoppable.
Divine energy flowed through her veins again, rising from somewhere deeper than power—deeper than faith.
Her broken belief had transformed.
Not the faith the church demanded.
Not obedience.
Not blind devotion.
But belief born from sacrifice… from truth… from the pain she had just witnessed.
Silver light poured softly from her eyes.
Mana stirred around her like a quiet storm.
Luca noticed it immediately.
His fists clenched slowly.
So… it happened.
Just as I expected.
