Chapter 204: Greedy Priest

"Right this way, My Lady!"

Seraphina let go of Kaelus’s hand and followed the trembling junior priestess down a long, ornate side corridor.

The corridor was quiet, illuminated by tall, stained-glass windows that cast colorful, shifting patterns of light across the marble floor.

On one side of the hall, a long, beautiful, highly decorated ornamental reflection pool bubbled softly, filled with holy water and glowing silver koi fish.

"You are very brave, Lady Seraphina," Sister Elara whispered, offering a kind, gentle smile as they walked. "His Grace is incredibly intimidating, but I can tell he loves you very much."

"He’s just a big grumpy hedgehog," Seraphina smiled back.

She liked Sister Elara.

The girl’s aura was warm, pastel yellow, completely devoid of the usual malice.

But as they rounded a corner, preparing to enter the cleansing chamber, their path was suddenly blocked.

Stepping out from behind a marble pillar was an older priest.

Seraphina’s Spirit Sight instantly spiked with a blaring, screeching alarm of pure disgust.

The man was wearing the heavy, embroidered robes of a Senior Bishop, but the holy garments could not hide the rotting stench of his aura.

He was a portly, sweaty man in his late fifties.

His skin was pale and slightly oily, and his thin, graying hair was plastered to his forehead.

But it was his eyes that made Seraphina’s soul violently recoil.

They were small, beady, and entirely devoid of holy light.

He was looking down at Seraphina with an expression of greedy, lecherous manner.

It wasn’t the political hunger of a spy; it was the visceral, repulsive, skin-crawling hunger of a predator looking at a vulnerable piece of prey.

"Ah, is it the little Northern stray," the Senior Bishop purred, recognizing Seraphina by the Nacht emblem sewn on her clothes, his voice slick with artificial sweetness that made Seraphina want to vomit.

He stepped forward, completely ignoring the nervous junior priestess. "Such a pretty, delicate little thing to be trapped with that barbarian warlord. Allow me to offer you a proper, holy blessing, child."

He reached out with a thick, sweaty hand, intending to stroke her dark hair or grab her small shoulder.

’Oh, absolutely the hell not,’

Seraphina’s internal monologue went from zero to murder in less than a microsecond.

’Stranger Danger. Code Red. This slimy, pedophilic garbage can is not touching a single fiber of my dress.’

Seraphina couldn’t summon her shadow-blades.

She couldn’t blast him through the wall with dark mana.

Kaelus was right outside, and doing so would expose her Supreme Core and invite the entire Imperial Army to hunt her down.

She needed to deal with him stealthily.

She needed it to look like an accident.

Seraphina immediately took a stumbling step backward, hiding herself slightly behind the trembling legs of Sister Elara.

She widened her dark eyes, playing the role of the terrified, shy toddler to perfection.

"Bishop Thorne, please!" Sister Elara stammered bravely, holding her arms out to shield the child, though she looked terrified of her superior. "The Archduke is waiting! We must proceed to the font!"

"Silence, stupid novice girl," Bishop Thorne sneered, his oily eyes never leaving Seraphina.

He took another step forward, closing the distance, reaching around the young priestess. "The Archduke has no power in the halls of the Goddess. The child needs my guidance. Come here, little one."

He lunged his sweaty hand forward.

Seraphina moved away again.

She didn’t use a massive wave of magic.

She visualized her Supreme Dark Core not as a bomb, but as an invisible, targeted tripwire.

She focused a tiny pulse of pure gravitational density directly onto the smooth marble floor, one millimeter in front of the Bishop’s advancing leather shoe.

It was the metaphysical equivalent of throwing an invisible banana peel onto an ice rink.

Bishop Thorne stepped forward, his weight fully committed to grabbing her. His shoe hit the slickness.

The physics of the situation were catastrophically hilarious.

The friction between his shoe and the marble completely ceased to exist.

His foot shot forward with cartoonish velocity.

The portly, lecherous priest let out a high-pitched, undignified squawk of pure shock as his center of balance violently betrayed him.

He didn’t just fall down.

His momentum carried him sideways, spinning him wildly out of control like a badly thrown bowling ball.

"AAAAAAAH—!"

CRASH!

Bishop Thorne slammed shoulder-first into the ornamental reflection pool. The impact sent a magnificent wave of holy water cascading over the marble floor.

Silver koi scattered in every direction, while one particularly offended fish slapped directly against the Bishop’s face.

PLOP!

For three full seconds, there was absolute silence.

Bishop Thorne sat half-submerged in the shallow pool, his expensive robes completely drenched, his ceremonial gold embroidery plastered against his enormous stomach.

The silver koi circled him with what looked suspiciously like judgment.

His carefully arranged gray hair had collapsed over his forehead.

One of his expensive rings had somehow become stuck around the fin of a very angry koi.

The fish immediately began dragging it away.

"..."

Sister Elara stared.

Seraphina stared.

Bishop Thorne stared at the fish.

The fish stared back.

Then—

"PFFFFT!"

Seraphina clapped both hands over her mouth.

Too late.

A tiny giggle escaped.

"Pfft—! Hehehe..."

Sister Elara’s shoulders began shaking.

She tried desperately to maintain a respectful expression.

"My apologies, Your Eminence," she squeaked.

Bishop Thorne slowly rose from the pool.

Water streamed from his robes, his face had turned a violent shade of crimson.

"This..." he hissed. "This was no accident."

Seraphina immediately widened her eyes.

She pointed at the floor.

"Look!"

Everyone looked.

There was absolutely nothing there.

Not a banana peel. Not a puddle. Not even a speck of dust.

Seraphina gasped dramatically.

"The floor attacked you!"

Sister Elara nearly choked.

"The... floor?"

"Yes!" Seraphina nodded solemnly. "It was very mean."

Bishop Thorne’s eye twitched.

"You little—"

He stopped himself.

The child was standing behind Sister Elara now, clutching the young priestess’s sleeve with both hands.

Her lower lip trembled, her enormous dark eyes glistened suspiciously.