Saintess Summons Skeletons

“Oooh, so it’s the place with the spell you already had?”

Sofia nodded, looking down at the moss-covered cathedral. “It should be at the very bottom… Fifty eight floors underground.”

“Should we do a quick in and out, see if we can find what exactly the key points to? I doubt it’s just to mark the place’s entrance.”

“... I don’t know. It could be dangerous. And we can’t both be away from mom for too long.”

Saria shrugged. “You already have the spell anyway, we don’t have to dig deep, just a quick look can’t hurt. You look like you’re dying to go down there, Sofia.”

“Yeah that’s exactly why I have to hold back. If my information is all correct, this ‘Holy Lich’ who lived here was an ally of Sorrow. And there is a good chance he was the original creator of some of my earliest spells like [Heal Undead]. Plus he chose to build his cathedral above a mirror. How can I not be curious, the thing is if I let myself go I’ll still be turning over every rock in this ‘cathedral’ by the time the Phageid attack.”

“My my… Exercising self control when bones might be involved? Who are you and what did you do to my precious baby sister?”

“Shut up.”

“Pfft. Let’s go, check it out. As long as we don’t enter the sanctuary thing we’ll be fine, right? Actually scratch that, didn’t you say you could leave those whenever now?”

“I believe I should be able to, yes…”

“Then stop wasting our time.”

Landing on the top floor of the cathedral through a hole in the roof, the two sisters looked around. Saria watched the engravings on the moss-covered walls with visible excitement.

“Were you just itching for adventure?” Sofia asked, standing next to her.

“My thirst for knowledge knows no bounds,” Saria answered proudly.

“Yet you went for Death’s essence for your mana heart.”

“Heh?! I didn’t mean that knowledge!”

“No, no, it’s fine, I won’t judge. I always knew you were into older guys,” Sofia quipped while walking toward the stairs.

“The hell?! Hoy! Sofia!”

The sisters’ lighthearted banter continued as they seriously explored the upper levels of the Cathedral. While the place was in surprisingly good shape for such an old ruin, there were still precious few things that survived aside from the main structural elements. The only real notable thing above the ground floor being a three-floors tall statue on the altar at the very back of the cathedral. It represented a vaguely human figure, fully hidden under a long drapery, like a child playing ghost under a curtain. Its arms were spread to the sides, with only two hands extended out of the draping cloth, his right hand was that of a human, sculpted in details that age had failed to erase, holding a human skull. Meanwhile his left hand was that of a skeleton, holding a pair of eyeballs.

“Which god is that even supposed to be?” Sofia wondered aloud.

“Maybe Death?” Saria guessed, “I don’t recall any god ever being depicted like this. Maybe Cin would know.”

“Death? Hmm, well, his appearance is fleeting but that doesn’t really feel like him. Could be because it’s just a statue, I suppose. Or that holy lich who built this place had an ego and wanted a statue of himself.”

“And cover his face like that? Doubt it.”

Sofia suddenly felt a presence behind her, bones that she could barely feel. She turned around all of her equipment appearing on her body, blue plasma forming a bright bolt coursing through her scepter. Saria noticed and was instantly ready to fight as well.

But there was nothing. The faint presence had only lasted an instant. Sofia could not see or feel anyone nearby, not even suspicious mana movements.

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Just as she was ready to flee, teleporting herself and Saria to Zangdar if she needed to, a man’s voice echoed through the ruined cathedral.

“Hah. Sharp senses you have there.”

Sofia tried to locate the source of the voice, but she couldn’t.

“You disturb the calm here, are you also going to burn the place down?” The voice lazily continued.

“Who are you?” Sofia asked, ready to use [Lock-step] and teleport to Zangdar at the first sign of danger or hostility.

“My own question!” the voice suddenly shouted, its tone wavering, “Did you think that just because my home is in ruins you could waltz in uninvited?!”

“Is that not common sense?” Saria commented, still trying to locate the voice’s origin.

“Obviously NOT! And that was already true ages ago! Do you have NO IDEA what kinds of lurking dangers await in the depths of this realm? When you run into a crazy person your innocence will not save you!”

Why does it feel like he’s talking about himself?

“Are you the holy lich, then?” Sofia asked, dispelling her forming bolt for the time being as a show of goodwill.

“Who else?! Of course I am. I was. But who are you? It’s an interesting cape you are wearing. Very interesting. Are you the rightful owner?”

Sofia suddenly found herself completely unable to move. Even her mana felt sluggish, like trapped within a deep swamp, she could feel that her only escape route now was [Roaming Free], but she could not leave Saria behind.

“Perish the idle thoughts,” the voice commented, clearly coming from right behind the two sisters, now. “I find no joy in tormenting children.”

Sofia felt cold hands approaching, ghostly fingers caressing the edges of her soul.

“Ooooh. Yes. Yes… What a collection. Do they make you feel full, or empty? So much divinity in a mortal shell…”

This contact was strangely a bit reassuring. For that person who had accessed her soul as easily as breathing, there was no backlash from Aphenoreth’s mark, so they were truly just observing, so far.

“But if it does not belong in your hands then I shall take it back!” he continued, suddenly sounding enraged one second, then calm again the next, “Let us check…”

The cold hand poked straight at Sorrow’s essence within Sofia’s soul. It triggered her transformation without her being able to do anything about it. Her body morphed to its demon form, her growing tail shattering the back of her bone armor.

“Hah. So you ARE the rightful successor. That changes things, friends of friends are welcome to visit, after all.”

The cold presence receded, and an imposing armored figure wearing white and golden robes over heavy plate appeared in front of Sofia and Saria, then the restriction on them vanished.

The numbers of light above the armor’s head struggled for a moment, before settling on exactly 500.

No wonder he suppressed us so easily…

“Still not going to tell me your names? Etiquette has truly gone to ruin during my absence.”

“Saria Aphenoreth. This is my sister Sofia.”

Saria smirked, seeing that the person in the armor seemed frozen in place for a moment.

“Arrenham Starshield,” he finally presented himself in return, “I have heard of you both. Although your name previously went unsaid. Why have you come to this ruined home of I?”

“The temple below,” Sofia answered, deciding not to say anything about the key.

“And curiosity,” Saria added, unsummoning her armor and weapon since they would be of no help against such an enemy anyway.

“Is that it? Hmm. The temple? You cannot go. Broaden your heart and only then can you open the doors. So to say… You are too weak. Curiosity on the other hand, is the most basic of human conditions, is it not? I have long shed my flesh and it still plagues me. A most dreadful affliction. You wondered about this statue of mine, did you not?”

“Is it you?” Saria bluntly asked.

“It could be anyone,” Arrenham answered, walking past the duo with heavy steps. He was just a bit taller than Sofia, but had a frame just as imposing as Pareth did in his full armor. He walked all the way to the foot of the statue, looking up. “This is a divine that has never formed. Whether it ever will, gods do not know. A fruit of my imagination, if you will. I call him… Opinion. Belief. Conviction. The very things that the divine are made of. Directed emotions that themselves are the drive of divinity. The skull represents the thoughts of the living. Even prior to reaching divinity, a strong conviction, even baseless, can alter one’s body and mind. They have power. The eyes represent the beliefs of the world itself. They work in the inverse way. A lack of belief can make the real fake. Make the truth a lie. Make the existing a distant memory. That is who this represents.”

“And you worshipped him? A non-existent god?” Sofia asked, finally starting to let down her guard a bit around the strange armored Lich.

“Worship?” he repeated, his helmet turning to look back at Sofia. “No such thing. This statue was a simple reminder to myself. That one’s wrongful thoughts hold a scary power. That self-doubt is one’s first and last trial. As the end nears… We all ought to remember that.”