"What was that?"
"The innocent affection of a young maiden~."
Niv leaned over and wrapped her arms around Hel's arm, her lips almost brushing her ear as she teased softly:
"Master, did your heart not stir at all? That girl will be the future Saintess of the Church, you know."
"You really are something…"
Hel sighed helplessly and rubbed Niv's soft hair.
"I've already become like this—how could I possibly respond to her feelings?"
"Then why did you stir up a maiden's heart in the first place, knowing full well what would happen? I believe Miss Vivian wouldn't mind your… gender."
"I hope so."
Hel said no more. She simply returned to her room and opened her attribute panel. A line of glowing text appeared before her eyes:
[A rare Trait has been detected in possession of the Transmigrator. Synthesis suggestions have been generated.]
[Lord of Fish and Insects + Lord of the Sky + Lord of Beasts = Lord of Fertility: Creation]
[Lord of Healing + Lord of Restoration = Lord of Fertility: Vitality]
[Lord of Fertility: Creation + Lord of Fertility: Vitality = Lord of Fertility]
[Lord of Fertility + Lord of Abundance = Lord of Life]
[Lord of Life + Lord of Death = Lord of Reincarnation]
"Good grief…" Hel blinked at the string of information. "This isn't a synthesis tip—it's a full-blown main quest."
Not only did the panel reveal a path to another Supreme Divinity, it also showed a route to something even greater than that—a power beyond the realm of the gods themselves.
But what was this "Lord of Reincarnation"? Something above the Supreme Gods?
Life and Death were opposites—so how could their fusion yield a higher existence?
Did that mean the very alignment between the "Supreme" and the "Judgment" factions was wrong from the start?
If that were true, then if Reality and Illusion led to Truth, and Fate and Time to Space, what then did Holiness and Corruption ultimately lead toward?
Hel shook her head and dismissed the thought. There was no need to dwell on such questions.
Her path was already clear: her next goal was to synthesize the Divine Core of Life, and from there, evolve it into the Lord of Reincarnation.
If she hadn't yet understood the path of the God of Death, then the road of Reincarnation was far easier to follow—she could model it on what she already knew.
She only needed to create a realm of reincarnation for this world's souls—a task far simpler than ushering all life on the continent toward death.
The only question now was how to collect the remaining Witches' Traits.
Perhaps… she truly would need to visit the Witch Council again.
Meanwhile, on the distant frontier of the Mandrake Principality, near the Watchtower Wall, Augustus stood with a grave expression.
Before him, several figures floated in midair, each exuding a pressure that twisted the air itself.
"Well, well. Isn't this lively," the dragon rumbled with a sneer. "All these old fossils crawling out of their holes—over one little angel? What's there to fight about?"
Even surrounded by several beings of equal power, the dragon's pride never wavered.
"Lord Augustus, you come from the Holy See—you've seen angels before. Of course you wouldn't see the point," said the young woman beside him in polished knight's armor.
Her white cloak bore golden embroidery of four pairs of wings centered around a scepter—the symbol of the Holy Tribunal Church.
"But for us, this angel is the first to descend in centuries—the only one among our three empires. Her existence means everything to the faith we spread."
"So you're all ready to fight to the death for one angel?"
Augustus gave an exasperated snort, a puff of sparks curling from his nostrils.
"I heard your defense line's already under attack from the other side. You don't have any more Saints to send here. Just the two of us against that many? Don't tell me you plan to fight ten at once?"
"Of course not," the knight replied solemnly, bowing deeply. "That's why I must ask Lord Augustus to lend me the Holy Sword—Gramr."
"Absolutely not! That's my treasure—you think I'd just hand it over?"
"The Holy Tribunal is prepared to offer compensation fitting of your status. How about… a set of dragon armor forged from Orichalcum?"
"Did you just say Orichalcum?"
The dragon's golden eyes suddenly gleamed like a child spotting candy. He slithered closer, grinning toothily.
"I want full plate, not half-armor. And the purity better be at least 80%, or no deal!"
"I'm afraid that's impossible, Lord Augustus. The Church's stores are limited—we can only offer a half-plate set at 60% purity. That is our utmost limit."
"Tch. Cheapskates."
He clicked his tongue but eventually raised a clawed hand, summoning a runic longsword wreathed in divine light.
"Fine. But you know why Holy Swords are dangerous, don't you? They grant power not your own—and the more you use it, the heavier the price. You do know that, right?"
"I do."
The knight gripped the hilt with both hands, her expression unwavering.
"But I must protect the future of our Church."
As she spoke, divine battle aura surged into the sword, each rune flaring to life one by one.
"Tch. Foolish knight," Augustus muttered. "The Holy See's crawling with future 'Saints'. No need to throw yourself away for one."
Still, he said nothing more, watching silently as the girl faced the approaching enemies.
The enemy Saints wasted no time—upon seeing Gramr's glow, they attacked as one. Even against equal-level opponents, they knew how much difference gear, talent, and faith could make.
And Gramr… was no ordinary sword.
It was said to cut through anything—even a dragon's scales could not withstand its edge.
But the Saints soon realized they weren't just fighting a knight.
Beside her, Augustus inhaled deeply.
A moment later, a thunderous roar split the sky as he unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, a blazing pillar dozens of meters wide that engulfed the battlefield, turning night to day.