Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint-Chapter 545: Descent of the Saintess

The western continent, on a peninsula stretching into the Mediterranean, stood the Lighthouse Monastery—a beacon for sailors navigating the continent’s only maritime route. The monks who resided there bore sun-darkened skin, their lives spent battling the harsh sea winds.

One such monk, Gillot, was inspecting the Great White Wall when he noticed a crimson stain spreading across its surface. As a monk, it was his duty to transcribe any messages appearing on the wall into an official document. He hastily grabbed parchment and quill, dipping his pen into red ink—until he frowned at the color.

"Red? The Blood Monastery?"

The Blood Monastery had no business sending messages through the Great White Wall. What could heretics from that distant savage land possibly have to report?

"Probably another false claim about the Apostle of the Lamb appearing again."

That was the only kind of news the Blood Monastery ever shared. With little enthusiasm, he dipped his pen into the ink.

Then, the Great White Wall turned entirely red.

It was as if someone had committed a murder against the wall itself. Blood splattered across the surface, words etched into it in crimson streaks. The sight was grotesque—like a victim using their last breath to scrawl out a message in their own blood. Gillot, startled, knocked his knee against the desk.

"Agh!"

This was clearly an anomaly, but as a monk, it was still his duty to record it.

As he prepared to transcribe the message, he realized something—there was no need.

The Blood Monastery was requesting an audience with the Saintess.

Similar events unfolded across the world. In a tiny, secluded Great White Wall buried in the sands of the Warring States, in the vast, towering Great White Wall of the Empire’s capital—everywhere, a brutal, barbaric proclamation resounded.

Everyone knew who was responsible for this desecration of a holy artifact. But no one could stop it.

Because the source of the incident was the Blood Monastery—an isolated, untouchable stronghold deep within the savage lands beyond the Enger Plains.

Having done the deed in grand fashion, Yeghceria placed both hands on what was now the Crimson Wall.

"The Saintesses can’t ignore this now. Ahh, it has been too long since I last received a revelation from them!"

"Even if you wanted a definite answer, wasn’t this a little extreme?"

"The Holy Crown Church is a stagnant guardian of outdated order and regulations. They only react when met with force. To reach the Saintess, you must present them with an unsolvable dilemma!"

Fair enough. No matter how rigid the Holy Crown Church was, they couldn’t let a Great White Wall be tainted with blood.

And, as expected, a response came immediately.

[How dare a vampire defile the Rakion Great White Wall with blood?! You blaspheme the sacred bricks upon which the First Saintess transcribed her teachings!]

White letters emerged upon the bloodied wall. At that moment, a brilliant light erupted from it, attempting to purge the tainted blood with divine energy.

[The stain shall be purified by light! Fallen nun, vanish into the shadows of history!]

Long ago, when the teachings of the Celestial God were deemed heretical and persecuted, the First Saintess had inscribed divine words onto bricks to secretly spread faith and literacy. When soldiers came to seize the believers, they would piece the bricks together to conceal the teachings.

One day, suspicious soldiers attempted to destroy the wall of bricks. Just before they succeeded, a miracle occurred. The words upon the bricks transformed into a thunderous condemnation of oppression. The soldiers, realizing the Saintess was a true prophet, repented on the spot.

This ancient tale gave birth to the miracle known as the Rakion Great White Wall, named after the humble brickmaker who had supplied the Saintess with bricks.

All Great White Walls were connected, transcending physical distance to convey the Celestial God’s will.

But that also meant a miracle performed at another monastery could reach the Blood Monastery as well.

Across the many Great White Walls, divine letters appeared.

[Denounce the heresy!]

[Deliver judgment!]

[Repent before the Celestial God!]

Blinding light flared from multiple walls. Divine radiance, meant to cleanse all things, attempted to burn through the bloody shroud and restore the wall’s purity. Slowly, the growing beams of light tore through the bloodstained veil, trying to turn the Great White Wall back to its original state.

Then Yeghceria spoke, her voice serene yet commanding.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"To seek guidance is to strive for understanding, and to extend one’s hand is to draw closer. To hear my voice and feel my touch is to walk the path toward the Celestial God. If one who obstructs this path is a demon, then it is only right to cast them out."

Bloodcraft—Exorcism of the Crimson Sacrament.

A sacrament of blood meant to drive out demons. The vampire nun recited scripture as she unleashed a surge of blood energy.

The light continued to flicker and shine. But while the blood curtain briefly receded, it soon oozed back, filling the gaps. Dozens of divine halos flickered intermittently, unable to completely overpower the ritual of blood.

"You cannot erase my message simply by calling it defilement. Just because I wrote it in blood doesn’t mean you have the right to erase it. That isn’t written in scripture, now is it?"

"Well, that’s because vampires didn’t exist back then."

"But it isn’t written anywhere, is it?"

To a true fanatic, anything not explicitly written in scripture was not truth. And the most extreme fundamentalists often aligned with the most extreme progressives—they were equally indifferent to things that lacked precedent.

The divine light across the Great White Walls flickered uncertainly.

Even with dozens of monks working together, they were unable to overpower Yeghceria alone. It would take at least a monastery head or a high-ranking bishop to even stand a chance against her. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Of course, there was a much easier way to resolve the situation—granting the demands of the terrorist.

As if reading my thoughts, Yeghceria’s expression brightened with delight.

"Ahh, the Saintess, blessed by the First Saintess, has graced this monastery with her presence! We give thanks for her divine favor!"

And then—

Causality twisted.

Something, stretched taut, snapped.

In an instant, all the blood covering the Great White Wall disappeared.

It wasn’t erased or expelled. The wall simply returned to its original state.

This was no mere miracle or contest of power—this was something greater.

The Saintess had restored the wall.

As if it had never been defiled, the Great White Wall was once again pristine.

And upon its pure white surface, a single message softly emerged.

[I have stopped you, Yeghceria. Because I have come to you in person.]

"What? What does that even mean?"

Despite the strange twist of causality in the message, Yeghceria clasped her hands together in reverence, embracing the Saintess's decree with deep emotion.

"Oh, Lord... This humble servant of the Celestial God welcomes the light that has graced this remote monastery."

The Great White Wall could carry written words, but not voices. Yeghceria had attempted to inscribe her words with bloodcraft upon the wall, but the moment her power touched the surface, it vanished completely.

The Saintess’s authority was beyond mere divine power—it was an ability that transcended time and space, capable of miracles beyond imagination. Without regard for Yeghceria’s power or influence, the Saintess simply erased the bloodcraft and continued writing as if nothing had happened.

[No matter what I say, I cannot undo the twisted causality that is you. Such is providence. But as a Saintess, and as someone who once knew your devotion, I ask of you: cease your wandering and return to the embrace of the Celestial God. Your body may be cursed, but I will preserve your soul so that you may reclaim the light.]

...She was telling her to die.

For a devoted follower of the Holy Crown Church, death in the name of faith was of little consequence. But Yeghceria simply smiled lightly, waving her bloodstained fingers.

"Oh, Saintess, your jest goes too far. Do not fear death, you say? If my mind remains pure, the Celestial God will surely grant me a place at His side. But ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ if my mind is pure, then why should this wretched body prevent me from doing good and practicing virtue?"

Again, the letters disappeared before they could even touch the Great White Wall. And yet, as if she had already anticipated the response, the Saintess replied immediately.

[A Saintess must fulfill her fate, even when she cannot avoid the predetermined outcome. Though I knew you would refuse, I had to ask. Thus, I will not answer the question you wish to ask.]

"Oh, Saintess. What I wish to tell you is—"

[That message was not for you, Yeghceria. It was for the one who encouraged you—the King of Humans.]

...Huh? She can't see me.

The Great White Wall merely transmits the same written message to all locations. It does not share visions or context. Yet somehow, the Saintess beyond the wall was looking at me directly.

[There is no need to waste effort repeating answers I already know. Nor can I provide answers that you do not know yourself. The causality that allowed this conversation has now ended, and so, I will close this thread.]

It was the truth.

No matter what we said, no matter what bloodcraft Yeghceria unleashed, that Saintess could end the conversation at will.

That was the power of Tichiel, the Saintess of Causality.

I had no idea what kind of ability that was. Even if I tried to read her thoughts to understand its essence, it would likely make no difference.

It was the same as Ferel, the Saintess of Steel—an ability incomprehensible even if understood, and impossible to counter even if grasped.

But no Saintess was omnipotent.

The very fact that a conversation had occurred in the first place meant that the Saintess of Causality had not completely severed this thread.

"Then that means I can think whatever I want, right?"

Before Yeghceria could even inscribe a response, the Great White Wall answered on its own.

[Yes. This conversation is already concluded.]

So, my deductions were almost entirely correct.

And for anything still uncertain, she wouldn’t tell me anyway.

A wise approach.

But unfortunately, that wasn't enough this time.

Because here, we had someone who needed an explanation.

"So, Shei. What do you think?"

The regressor, who had been standing with a sullen expression, responded irritably.

"What do you mean? Explain it in a way that actually makes sense."

Tichiel’s way of speaking is too convoluted—it’s hard to understand. Ugh, if the Grand Master of the Holy Sword Order were here, they could interpret it... But there's no way to tell through the Great White Wall.

At that moment, the wall briefly turned blank.

Then, in a hurried, almost flustered handwriting, the Saintess’s next message appeared.

[Yeghceria. What are you tampering with? Causality is being distor—]

And then—

The letters collapsed.

The words, once floating in the air, trembled violently before breaking apart into scattered consonants and vowels.

The fragmented letters fell to the base of the Great White Wall, then reassembled into a new sentence.

The light descends from the heavens.

At that moment—

Without any sign, without any warning—

A girl appeared in the chapel, her eyes gently closed.

No, could one even say that she appeared?

If presence was defined by an aura, then she radiated a presence so overwhelming that even if I looked away, I was aware of her existence.

Even without seeing her, my consciousness had no choice but to acknowledge her.

And yet—

She wasn’t here.

She lacked warmth, weight, even the soft breath of a living being.

There was no one here.

But she was undeniably present.

If I were to describe her appearance, I could.

But if I looked into a mirror, I knew her reflection wouldn’t be there.

Rather than truly being here, it felt as if the fact of her presence had been implanted into my mind.

I couldn't read her thoughts.

She had no tangible reality.

But she was here.

And then, as if carried beyond time and space, a voice resounded—soft yet unwavering, as if speaking an immutable truth.

"It has been far, far too long, King of Humans and Yeghceria."

The Saintess, her eyes still peacefully closed, faced the regressor and greeted her—her tone tinged with sorrow.

"And you... my last hope, and my first despair."

I couldn’t read her mind. I had no way of knowing who she truly was or what kind of power she wielded.

But the regressor knew exactly who she was.

Even in the face of an unfathomable miracle, she remained calm—familiar, even.

She greeted her like an old acquaintance, as if it was only natural for them to meet again.

"Good to see you, Meiel."