Conspiracy

“Excuse me, miss, this patient still requires follow-up treatment.” A cleric dressed in white robes walked slowly into the room. He was enveloped in a faint, holy light, giving him an air of profound righteousness.

“Treatment at the Church? There’s no need for that now.” Li Yue looked at him with difficulty, feeling an inexplicable sense of resistance toward this man.

“Miss, these injuries are no ordinary burns. Natural recovery is essentially impossible, so...” the cleric said unhurriedly. He looked at Li Yue’s arms, only to find that the scars had already vanished, as if she had never been injured at all.

His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, showing a hint of confusion and, more so, a touch of disappointment.

“I’ve already healed her, so there’s no problem,” Clo said with a smile, tightening her hold on Li Yue. Her tone had sharpened with displeasure. Sensing the man’s ulterior motives, she frowned and pushed past the cleric. She traced a rune in front of him, and their figures instantly vanished from the spot.

They reappeared in a small courtyard at home. Although it was early spring and the weather was still slightly chilly, many flowers were already in full bloom, displaying their most beautiful colors even in the cold season.

“That white-robed cleric had an agenda. Did you offend the Church?” Clo placed Li Yue into a cradle woven from tree vines. It was filled with numerous fresh flowers, emitting the sweet fragrance of nectar.

She gently pushed the cradle as a faint green glow emanated from her, the power of life nourishing Li Yue’s body. Slowly, Li Yue’s mental state began to recover.

“Maybe it’s because I always carry the aura of death. Those guys with divine oracles stuffed in their heads probably treat me like a heretic,” Li Yue said, rolling her eyes weakly and sighing with helplessness.

“Simple. Go and blow up their bishops and Saintess. Just wipe the Church of the Divine Lord off the map and root out the problem once and for all.” Clo chuckled, earning a massive eye-roll from Li Yue.

“That Saintess is one of the Five Staves... I’ve heard they’re quite powerful. I can’t beat them.” Li Yue pouted as she lay in the flower basket, looking like a total slacker.

“With your level, you could even take on the principal. Even with the academy’s formations, he might not win against you if you went berserk.” Clo gave her a thumbs-up.

“How would you know... I’ve never even tried.” Li Yue used her remaining strength to roll over, not wanting to continue Clo’s pointless joking.

“I saw it in a dream, hehe.” Clo smiled, but her eyes inadvertently drifted to a snowy white Manjusaka in the corner of the courtyard. An inexplicable feeling of suffocation washed over her. She stood up and paced restlessly, a look of unease crossing her face.

What was that feeling just now... Why do I feel this sense of dread? I’ve definitely seen this somewhere before... But when was it... Dammit, the clues and memory fragments are still too few...

“Those guys from the Church are a pain... Do you have any solution? I hate their aura; it feels like something from the past...” Li Yue said gloomily, looking into the distance. “And the life aura in this flower basket, I hate that too...”

“Patients shouldn’t complain about the medicine being bitter... As for the Church of the Divine Lord, I can go check them out for you.”

“I’m going to sleep for a bit... Remind me when I wake up that I need to process the materials for the potions.” Li Yue’s eyes slowly closed. Her consciousness drifted down, sinking all the way to the bottom of the abyss, into that black tide she was so used to dreaming of. She went to speak with “Him,” or perhaps simply to drift along with the tide of the dead.

Clo slowly walked out of the courtyard and donned her white robe. A staff appeared in her hand. She tapped the air, and her figure instantly vanished from the yard.

...

In a grand hall echoing with holy words and hymns, knights holding swords lowered their blades. The tips of their swords touched the ground as they performed a necessary ritual.

A cleric wearing robes with sun patterns walked in slowly from the entrance. His face was devoid of expression, looking so indifferent he hardly seemed like a living person. He gazed toward the elderly man sitting on the platform in divine robes, a cold glint appearing in his eyes.

“Is that young lady truly a vassal of Death?” His words held no surprise; he was merely stating a fact.

“The divine oracle revealed her arrival... Although she has never displayed the power of death, there is a high probability she is inextricably linked to the God of Death who committed that unpardonable sin.”

The elderly cleric in white robes opened his dull, pale eyes, which were clouded with worry.

“Our mission is... to fulfill the Lord’s oracle and prevent the destruction of the world...”