Chapter 94: The Death of the Holy Maiden (25)

In the silent chapel, the boy tilted his head in confusion.

Herbert: ?

Is this right?

“...All of them?”

“All of them.”

Hss...

After receiving a confirmed answer, Herbert drew in a sharp breath, feeling as if he’d wandered into the wrong story.

Dear Holy Maiden, isn’t this script... a bit off? Where’s the compassionate mother figure?

Shouldn’t you have used your boundless mercy to soften the traitors’ hearts, then finally put down the golf club and forgive them?

Why did you choose “One breath, three thousand six hundred turns—great mercy saves all beings”?

Killing to protect life—cutting karma, not people?

The Grand Archbishop saw Herbert’s confusion and shook his head with a faint smile: “Child, you’ve misunderstood. The Holy Maiden is compassionate, but she is no fool.”

“From the start, she understood better than anyone that mercy alone cannot save the innocent from the wicked.”

“Only overwhelming power can make those lost lambs truly see their errors and turn back from the path.”

Herbert bowed his head in solemn respect.

Just as the Three Burials Master, who claimed to bury heaven, earth, and man, once said: If the layperson cannot understand the Dharma, then the monk also knows a few fist techniques.

When someone refuses to listen to reason, a bigger fist is the truest reason.

He understood.

This Holy Maiden is not a monk—she is a warrior!

And a classic one at that.

Kindness must have sharp edges.

“Just as divine grace is boundless as the sea, so too is divine wrath towering as a mountain—though they seem different, they are one and the same: the gods’ dominion over mortals.”

The Grand Archbishop’s explanation bordered on blasphemy against the nature of the gods, yet Herbert found it profoundly reasonable.

Grace or wrath—it all boils down to the gods’ methods of ruling their followers.

Thunder and rain, dew and frost—all are heavenly grace.

“And then what? What did the Holy Maiden do after that?”

By now, Herbert was genuinely curious about how the story would unfold.

How could such a powerful Holy Maiden possibly die?

Surely not by the gods themselves striking her down?

“After that...”

The Grand Archbishop turned a page of the scripture and continued.

“After eliminating all the traitors, the Holy Maiden enraged the ancient evil god and was hunted down in a mad assault by his cult.”

“The evil god sent his minions: one Saint-tier divine favored, three Epic-tier Holy Clerics, ten Legendary-tier Holy Templars.”

As he spoke these words, the old man’s voice grew low and somber, foreshadowing the tragedy to come.

Herbert fell silent.

This battle would be brutal.

The strength of this cultist force was staggering—this elite squad could easily wipe out an entire kingdom.

Yet just as Herbert braced himself to hear of Nenaisha’s defeat, the Grand Archbishop shifted tone and sighed:

“This battle did force the Holy Maiden into a desperate struggle—she fought for three days and three nights to eliminate every last one of them, chasing down the final fugitive for an entire day and night.”

“That’s much slower than before.”

Herbert: ?

“Later, after eliminating these apostles, the Holy Maiden spent three more years wandering the mortal realm, personally destroying every temple the evil god had built on earth...”

Herbert: ??

“Finally, after uprooting all the evil god’s foundations, the Holy Maiden entered alone into the god’s own divine realm.”

Herbert: ???

Wait—stop.

The naive, inexperienced boy felt his mind was about to melt.

It wasn’t the evil god attacking her—she turned around and slaughtered him, right?

The heavens have turned upside down!

What kind of ultimate powerhouse is this?

Are all Holy Maidens this terrifyingly strong?

The Grand Archbishop understood Herbert’s shock and kindly explained: “It’s not quite as exaggerated as you think.”

“At that time, the ancient gods had just awakened—He was already weak, and with His earthly church destroyed, His domain had been gradually eaten away by the other gods. His power dropped another tier.”

The faith gods did it too!

The gods are greedy.

They might not have lifted a finger to help Nenaisha, but they certainly wouldn’t miss a chance to kick a fallen enemy and grab a share.

Whoever wins, they support.

“Even so, the ancient god in that state was still far stronger than a Saint—let alone within His own divine realm, where His divine power was nearly infinite.”

“Normally, mortals had no chance of defeating Him. No one believed Nenaisha could succeed.”

Herbert calmed down, sensing the story was nearing its end, and asked: “And then?”

“Later, the evil god perished, vanishing utterly from the world—His authority was seized and divided among the other gods. Even if He revived, He could never regain His former power.”

“And the Holy Maiden Nenaisha vanished as well. No one has seen her since.”

The Grand Archbishop squinted, sighed softly, and closed the scripture with a wave of his hand.

Both perished together.

“But how... how did she manage it?”

Killing a god as a mortal is extremely difficult—but not impossible. Throughout history, more than a dozen have succeeded.

But to perish alongside a god within His own divine realm? He had never heard of such a thing.

Abuse the spring?

“I did not witness the scene myself, but if I were to guess, she likely fused herself with the divine realm the moment she entered—forcibly transforming herself into one of its components... then waged a coup against the god for control of the realm, as a divine being herself.”

“Enemy and ally were of the same origin, indistinguishable—until both exhausted their divine power and were destroyed together.”

Thus ended the grand, blazing tale of the Holy Maiden Nenaisha. All fell silent. The vision before Herbert dissolved entirely.

But Herbert’s consciousness remained trapped in that story. He shook his head and whispered: “She possessed such overwhelming power...”

That power was truly absurd!

The Grand Archbishop sighed, equally moved, and murmured: “Yes. At that time, the Holy Maiden was already nearly equal to me.”

“Not much weaker than I am.”

Herbert: ?

The boy’s eyes widened. He blinked rapidly at the old man, who looked like a kindly neighbor, speechless.

Are you telling me... you’re even stronger than she was?!

In that moment, Herbert fully grasped the true weight of the Grand Archbishop’s title: “The Saint Walking Among Men.”

It wasn’t a metaphor—it was a literal description!

“...And then what?”

You told me all this—what does it have to do with this statue?

You didn’t just bring me here to give me a history lesson, did you?

“Later... three hundred years passed. When the shattered divine realm of the ancient god rose from beneath the earth, the leaking divine power turned an entire mountain range into mist, shrouding it forever in His lingering hatred.”

The old man turned to gaze at the blasphemous statue at the chapel’s center, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“Yes. The Holy Maiden Nenaisha died.”

“But... He did not perish completely.”

(End of Chapter)