Chapter 426: Episode 426

Lethe had revealed her true identity. Some immediately dropped their weapons and fell to their knees in worship, while others hesitated, nervously eyeing their neighbors. This was a remote region, far from the central influence of Efnel.

“W-We can’t back down like this… ma’am!” a man from Eskyl shouted, then flinched under her gaze. “Not after what those Kula bastards did to our people!”

“We have suffered far more!” the lord of Kula retorted, grinding his teeth as he stepped forward. “With all due respect, Saintess, we feel the same! Blood has been shed! We cannot retreat now!”

—[Aaargh, you talk too damn much, you fucker!]—

The vulgarity, amplified by her divine power, echoed across the battlefield. Lethe shook her arm toward the heavens, and the stars above pulsed ominously. Everyone who looked up instinctively flinched.

’Ugh, damn it. I really just want to wipe them both out,’ she thought. But she knew it wasn’t that simple. There were political complications. And more importantly, she had a nagging feeling that if she, a rookie Saintess, caused a major incident here, it would create a storm of problems back in Efnel.

’”Remember, Lethe. If you must use the power of a Saintess, you must perform what everyone expects of a Saintess.”’

She recalled the voice of her mentor, Israphel. With a heavy sigh, she lowered her arm and unleashed her magic.

’Meta Great Healing!’

A blinding flash of light erupted from her, so bright it made their eyes ache. The wounds of the bleeding men on the ground began to close at an incredible rate. Even the most grievous injuries—deep stab wounds, mangled organs, shattered bones—were mended in seconds as new flesh knitted together. With every wave of her arm, more of the fallen from both villages staggered back to their feet.

—[Are we done now?]— Lethe demanded, planting her hands on her hips. —[No one was harmed by Kula! No one has shed any blood!]—

The lord and the Eskyl man stared, dumbfounded. Lethe turned her back on them sharply.

—[Come on. Let’s go inside the village and talk.]—

“B-But the Kula bastards tore our barrier! The cold is…”

The sound of Lethe’s fingers was sharp and clear. The tear in the barrier was instantly sealed with a shield of pure divinity.

—[ARE WE DONE NOW?!]—

“…Ah.”

Lethe strode toward the village, her white hair fluttering behind her. Out of her sight, a few men stealthily reached for their weapons.

—[I’ve done everything a Saintess is supposed to do,]— she announced, and their hands froze. —[From now on, whichever side starts trouble first will be annihilated. I swear it on the Goddess’s name.]—

Her murderous warning sent a chill through them far colder than the blizzard. The lord and the Eskyl leader scrambled to order their men to stand down.

—

Early the next morning, by order of Saintess Lethe, the people of Eskyl were forced to prepare a meal. When they were told to cook for the people of Kula as well, some protested. Lethe tried to summon the saintly smile she’d been practicing. She’d intended to say, sweetly, “I’ll explain soon, but you all bear some responsibility for this cold. Besides, isn’t it your duty to host guests who have come to your village?”

But what actually came out was:

—[Just do as I say. Fuck!]—

At her roar, even the most furious protestors scrambled back to their duties. In effect, Lethe hadn’t reconciled the two sides so much as seized control of the village and beaten both factions into submission with sheer power.

“Here you go.”

“Th-thank you.”

Yet, as they began to share the food, the murderous, kill-or-be-killed atmosphere from the day before started to thaw. People were people, after all, and everything they did was a struggle to survive.

Lethe, who had been watching for any sign of another fight, finally allowed her divine power to recede. She turned her head.

“Petria.”

Petria, the only friend she had made in the village, approached, trembling.

“I-I’m sorry, Leah… I mean, Saintess Lethe! To think I didn’t even recognize you!”

Lethe waved her hand dismissively. “I came here in disguise, so let’s drop it. More importantly, go get the people of Eskyl. I’ll speak to the Kula delegation.”

With that, Lethe gathered the people of both villages in the town hall—the same spacious room where Simon had first met Nenya Mizenasi.

Lethe, having arrived first, was surveying her surroundings when an old woman’s voice cut through the quiet.

“Hehehe!”

Lethe jumped. Standing there, looking around just as she was, was Nenya Mizenasi—the woman Simon had fought. But a second glance revealed it wasn’t Nenya at all.

“You’re… you’re the old woman who told my fortune in Kula, aren’t you?”

The old woman nodded, bowing with a surprising degree of formality.

“Gratula mi Kibilis. I greet the goddess’s closest daughter.”

“…You startled me,” Lethe admitted. “How on earth did you make it all the way to this snowy mountain in your condition?”

“I was carried on someone’s back,” the woman explained. “The lord said he needed someone who knew the way to the village.”

A faint blush colored Lethe’s cheeks, and she cleared her throat.

“…That future you saw for me. Was it not about raising the undead, but about saving people and raising them up?”

The old woman offered only a gentle smile.

“This humble one only reads the fortunes. How they are interpreted is up to the individual.”

With that, she turned to look around again, her expression tinged with a deep longing for her long-lost home. Lethe watched her go, a single thought nagging at her. ’But when is that part about flying through the sky supposed to happen?’

—

A short while later, the people of both Eskyl and Kula gathered in the town hall. No longer needing to hide her identity, Lethe strode forward, clad once more in her Efnel uniform.

“This conflict, this animosity… it’s been festering for decades,” she began, pacing slowly across the platform. “As an outsider, I’m not going to stand here and order you to simply make peace. But at the very least, misunderstandings must be cleared away.”

She stopped, her gaze sweeping over the villagers.

“I will tell you the truth. The deep freeze wasn’t the wrath of some Snow Woman; it was an abnormal phenomenon caused by a dungeon.”

A wave of murmurs swept through the hall. The reaction from the Eskyl villagers was particularly fierce.

“That can’t be!” one of them shouted. “We saw the Snow Woman with our own eyes!”

“And have you ever set foot in the dungeon?” Lethe shot back, her voice sharp. “Si—No, Mr. Sean and I went to the cave at the very peak of the mountain range. We confirmed the dungeon’s existence and that it was the source of the freeze. And when we came out, the Mizenasi people surrounded us, intending to kill us.”

A collective gasp went through the crowd.

Lethe’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

“Think about it. When your village was in peril, where were the Mizenasi?”

“C-Come to think of it…!” a villager stammered.

“That’s right. They went to silence us,” Lethe declared. “They couldn’t let the truth get out—that the Snow Woman’s wrath was just a dungeon anomaly. That was more important to them than all of you being wiped out.”

The people of Eskyl fell into a stunned silence. Lethe then turned her attention to the Kula villagers.

“They fabricated the legend of the Snow Woman as a smokescreen to conceal the dungeon. There’s only one reason they would go to such lengths to protect it and maintain the anomaly: revenge against the people of Kula who drove them out all those years ago.”

Several Kula residents lowered their heads in shame. Their mutual hatred had nearly brought about their mutual destruction. If not for the intervention of outsiders like her and Simon, it very well might have.

“I-I still don’t believe it!” someone protested.

“That’s just your word for it, Saintess!” another added. “Without clear proof…!”

An old woman leaning on a staff made her way onto the platform.

“Everything the Saintess says is true.”

It was the fortune-teller from Kula. Her appearance sent a fresh ripple of unease through both sides.

“I am Anjia Mizenasi,” she announced, her voice surprisingly firm. “The younger sister of Nenya Mizenasi.”

She struck the floor with her staff, a habit identical to her sister’s, and fixed her gaze on the crowd.

“Some fifty years ago, my sister and our family declared their intent to use the dungeon’s anomaly to take revenge on Kula. I opposed their plan and was driven from the village.”

“Th-Then it’s really…!” a villager gasped.

“I swear on the name of Mizenasi,” Anjia proclaimed, “that the Saintess’s words are the truth.”

A heavy silence descended. Lethe crossed her arms, a satisfied smile gracing her lips.

The doors at the back of the hall swung open, revealing Simon, his black hair dusted with snow.

“My apologies for being late.”

“M-Mr. Sean!”

“The priest!”

Lethe’s face lit up. ’What took you so long, you idiot!’

Simon gave her a subtle wave before addressing the room.

“I’ve bound all the Mizenasi mages near the dungeon entrance. We can all go and confirm it shortly. More importantly,” he said, his eyes scanning the crowd, “this isn’t over yet.”

“Not over?” someone echoed.

“Saintess Lethe and I entered the dungeon, but the most crucial element was missing: the Dungeon Lord.” Simon’s tone grew serious. “Unless the Dungeon Lord is destroyed, the dungeon and the deep freeze will remain.”

“…Ah!”

“And the Dungeon Lord,” Simon declared, “is here, in this very room.”

The hall erupted in panicked murmurs as people shot to their feet.

“Wh-Who in the world is it, Mr. Sean!”

“Tell us!”

Simon slowly closed his eyes.

“As the people of Eskyl know, the Mizenasi performed a ritual to offer a sacrifice to the Snow Woman. However, sacrificing a young person would have caused a major backlash, so the Mizenasi set an example by offering their own successors. Only those who returned alive were permitted to bear the Mizenasi name.”

Everyone swallowed hard, hanging on his every word.

“A Mizenasi girl who was once offered as a sacrifice,” Simon continued, his voice low and steady. “The only Mizenasi currently in this village. And someone whose remains were found in the dungeon—someone who shouldn’t exist.”

Simon’s eyes snapped open, locking onto his target.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Petria.”

Every shocked gaze in the room swiveled to the young woman. Visibly flustered, Petria waved her hands frantically.

“Wh-Whaaat? Wh-What are you talking about…!”

“Nenya Mizenasi confessed everything,” Simon stated coldly. During their hours-long battle, he had subdued all the Mizenasi mages with the power of Chaos. A direct hit from that power could shatter one’s sanity, inducing hallucinations and confusion.

’”Tell me where the Dungeon Lord is.”’

Simon had demanded, but even under the influence of Chaos, none of them had answered. He had been about to give up, astonished by their resilience, when Nenya had finally broken.

’”Run! You have to run away!”’

Nenya had gasped.

’”Petria! No, Lady Petria! You must escape!”’

Petria was her granddaughter. There was no reason for her to use such a formal title. And then there was the memory of the draconic monster in the dungeon, the one that had taken the form of a long-dead teacher. If that was the case—

“I’m human!” Petria shrieked. “There’s no way I could be a monster like that! Besides, I’m a Mizenasi, but I’m talentless! I couldn’t even use ice magic, so they never called on me! This is insane…!”

“Petria?” Lethe’s voice was soft as she crouched down on the platform, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Seeing her, Petria cried out desperately, “Le-Lea! No! Saintess Lethe! You believe me, don’t you?”

“Yup,” Lethe chirped. “After you prove it with your death.”

Before the words had even left her mouth, a divine arrow materialized beside her, blazing with light as it shot toward Petria.

“Lethe!” Simon cried out, horrified. The arrow of divinity snatched Petria’s body, carrying her backward until she smashed through the far wall. “That’s going too far!”

At his protest, Lethe rose with an indifferent shrug.

“Why don’t you say that after taking a proper look at her?”

“What?”

Simon whipped his head around. Petria stood amidst the splintered wood, a cold, hard expression on her face. She was holding the divine arrow in her right hand, and her arm was covered in shimmering, ice-like scales.

“You said you couldn’t use magic?” Lethe asked, stepping down from the platform. “Oh, and that arrow? It’s all speed, no bite. It’s actually a divine healing spell.”

Petria bit her lip, hard.

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