SAINTESS [Chapter 59: The Sinner's Baptism]

“What is this?! Foreign girl, what trickery are you pulling now?!” Cantarius roared, pinned helplessly to the ground by an invisible force. “Hah! You're quite something, your petty tricks never cease, but they're all meaningless!”

“You'll all pay a heavy price for angering the great Cantarius!” With that, Cantarius struggled again to rise, yet his body refused to obey.

“Damn you, pink-haired woman!” Cantarius snarled, his face twisted with hatred as if he wanted to devour Vanessa whole. “What magic did you use? Why won't my arm grow back?!”

Cantarius seemed to believe the sole reason he couldn't stand was the loss of his arm. If only it could regenerate, he was certain he could lift himself up.

“Mr. Cantarius, I didn't use any technique,” Vanessa said calmly, standing steadily atop the judgment platform, shaking her hammer. Her condition was poor, already anemic, and having forcibly activated [Divine Blessing], her state had worsened.

If not for the slight healing she'd received upon entering the church earlier, she wouldn't even be able to stand now.

“Mr. Cantarius? Haven't you noticed yet?” Vanessa stared at the prostrate Cantarius, not at his face, but at his spine.

“What are you babbling about, pink-haired witch?!” Cantarius clearly didn't understand. But oddly, beside him, Isatia's expression suddenly revealed dawning comprehension.

This only deepened Cantarius's unease.

“The stronger the [Divine Blessing], the more severe the backlash. The same applies to Soul Armaments,” Isatia said slowly, each word carefully. “On the continent of Terraria, no power exists without a corresponding price.”

“The Barbarian King has been struck by backlash from his own Soul Armament.”

“B-backlash?!” Cantarius's eyes broadened. The term was foreign to him, he'd never really heard words like 'rebellion' or 'backlash' in his life.

“What backlash? Don't make me laugh! I am the great Cantarius, standing between man and god! Who dares to rebel against me?!” Cantarius sneezed. “Don't get cocky, you two wretched women! Once I rise, I'll make you pay a hundredfold for severing my arm and forcing me to kneel before you!”

“Mr. Cantarius, don't you understand? It isn't us keeping you down, it's your own Soul Armament. More precisely, the millions of wronged souls trapped within it.”

“Ha! Ridiculous! Do you mean to say those expendables could overpower me?!” Cantarius scoffed. “I've branded them, they are my eternal slaves! How dare such lowly trash commit such an act of treason?!”

“This is the Church of Radiance, the Hall of Judgment. Here, anyone guilty is suppressed by their sins and cannot rise,” Vanessa declared from her elevated platform, looking down upon Cantarius.

“Guilty? What a laughable claim! I've built immortal achievements! What crime have I committed?!” Cantarius roared with laughter.

“Mr. Cantarius, ordinary laws and mortals cannot judge you. You are a king, and a dead one at that, beyond such constraints,” Vanessa said, her melodic voice carrying solemnity as it echoed through the sacred hall. “Since these cannot bind you, then let the Goddess of Radiance, Varelis, pass judgment.”

“Goddess of Radiance? Varelis?!” Cantarius gasped under the pressure, teeth clenched. “You mean… the Twilight Demon Goddess? Hah! Do you really think a foreign deity has the authority to judge the King of All Kings?!”

“The goddess serves as witness. And the missing judge… I shall take that role.” Vanessa raised her iron hammer high and brought it crashing down on the bench, the sound reverberating throughout the church.

“As for evidence, the countless wronged souls clinging to the criminal's body are more than sufficient for conviction.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?! Foolish! You think you can judge me? Let's see what my [Archon of Enslaved Souls] has to say about that!”

Cantarius summoned his [Archon of Enslaved Souls].

Just as he prepared to act further, he suddenly realized, after Vanessa struck the hammer, he could now see things he hadn't seen before.

Countless hands, bloodied and calledoused, stretched out from within his [Archon of Enslaved Souls], grabbing him and pinning him mercilessly to the ground.

“What… what are these?!” Cantarius cried in shock. At the same time, a chorus of mournful, anguished wails filled his ears, desperate cries soaked in endless suffering and despair, finally finding release.

The overwhelming negative emotions were so intense that even Vanessa and Isatia, standing on the judgment platform, felt their influence.

“Quick, withdraw it! Withdraw it now!” Cantarius desperately tried to recall his [Archon of Enslaved Souls]. As long as he could pull it back, he still had a chance against two women already at their limits. If he didn't, he might be strangled by his own art, drowned in these emotions.

When accumulating negative emotions reach a critical mass, quantitative change triggers qualitative transformation, an abnormally terrifying force emerges, radiating and affecting all around.

In an instant, millions of foreign memories surged into Cantarius's mind like a tsunami, threatening to burst his already modest brain.

“AAAAAAGH!” Cantarius bled from all seven orifices. Although he usually reveled in pain, this time he didn't laugh. The agony pierced every pore, drilling into his skull like a thousand ants devouring his heart.

This time, he had been pulled from his shell. No longer within his divine sanctuary, his wounds could no longer regenerate.

“Stop! Stop it now!!” Cantarius realized he couldn't withdraw his [Archon of Enslaved Souls]. It was no longer under his control, now governed by the very souls it contains.

“What… what have you done to me?!”

“Mr. Cantarius, we told you, we did nothing. This is the Church of Radiance, the Hall of Judgment. Here, every sin you've committed will come to claim you. That's all.” Vanessa calmly observed Cantarius, now a bloodied, unrecognizable wreck after just one minute of torment.

This was only the beginning.

“This is merely a judgment hall. These wronged souls are simply granted the right to seek justice and rebel. Nothing more. We haven't grown stronger, nor have you grown weaker,” Vanessa glanced at Isatia beside her.

Even Isatia probably hadn't expected her [Eternal Imperial Crown]'s Church of Radiance to possess such a function beyond healing.

But this ability was likely unusable under normal circumstances. This time was exceptional. Under ordinary conditions, once Isatia activated her [Eternal Imperial Crown], victory was practically assured, after all, few enemies could match Cantarius's cockroach-like resilience, having invested all skill points into 'survivability'.

Moreover, if not for Isatia's [Divine Blessing] nearing collapse, Cantarius would've eventually been worn down and killed by her anyway.

Even if he carried the souls of the entire Mars civilization on his back, multiply that by ten, he'd still lose eventually if all he could do was take hits.

Activating the [Eternal Imperial Crown] meant victory, why go through the trouble of luring the enemy into the Church of Radiance for judgment?

And this effect wasn't this potent against every enemy.

Cantarius had simply woven his own cocoon, crushed beneath the weight of his own sins.

After Vanessa struck the hammer, countless formless souls poured endlessly from his [Archon of Enslaved Souls], like drowning people scrambling onto shore, seeking vengeance against the one who had condemned them to centuries of suffering.

“AAAAAAGH!” Soon, the sacred church echoed with the criminal's screams and wails.

Martians, Martian slaves, even former soldiers loyal to Cantarius emerged from the skeletal armor, tearing and clawing at his body.

They wailed in grief, their hearts filled only with hatred and resentment deeper than the ocean.

Soon, Cantarius was drenched in blood, his flesh shredded.

His vitality and essence were drained by the souls, transforming him from a towering giant into a skeletal wretch, drained of all flesh, a pitiful sight.

"Save me! Save me!" Desperate, Cantarius cried out to Vanessa on the platform. “I… I surrender! I admit my fault! Stop them!”

“Have you repented?” Vanessa asked calmly.

“I have! I repent deeply! Make them stop!” Cantarius's voice was nearly drained of life, flickering like a dying candle.

Yet even so, his will to survive remained strong.

A dead soul for who knew how many centuries, yet clinging so desperately to life.

“No, Mr. Cantarius. You haven't repented,” Vanessa shook her head, her tone shifting. “You simply realize you're about to die.”

“AAAH! Wretched woman! Even in death, I won't let you go!” Seeing pleading was futile, Cantarius instantly switched to rage. Frankly, this hysterical expression, combined with his current half-dead, half-demon appearance, was truly terrifying, the kind that could give you nightmares.

Then, the very slaves he'd once refused to even glance at lifted Cantarius into the air, stretching him toward eight directions.

A pig-like scream filled the entire church.

Vanessa frowned. Although this was the judgment of an unforgivable crime, the scene was undeniably horrifying. She turned away, choosing not to look.

Isatia, however, seemed unfazed.

“Isatia, what do you think?” Vanessa asked.

“What?” Isatia paused.

“You know what I'm asking.” Vanessa gave a gentle smile. “Didn't you say insignificant people can't help?”

“……”

“A once-mighty king, risen from his tomb, ultimately judged by his own people.”

“These 'insignificant' people you dismissed, they saved us at a critical moment, changing the outcome, didn't they?” Vanessa tilted her head. “Don't say it doesn't count.”

Isatia fell silent.

'Virtue + 50.'

'Current Virtue: 3054.'

At that moment, Cantarius's screams gradually weakened, now only low groans like 'urgh… urgh…' could be heard.

Teared by countless wronged souls, yet still not dead after so long, Cantarius's vitality was truly monstrous. Not only had he maxed all abilities into survival, but his personal resilience was equally insane. A literal tank, built to endure.

But finally… it was over. The curtain had fallen.

Vanessa turned back, looking down. Now, the church was filled with people, more accurately, souls.

Cantarius was gone. He had been utterly torn apart.

Of course, a single church couldn't possibly hold every soul that had ever existed in the Mars civilization. Outside, beyond the walls, millions more must be standing.

They all bowed toward Vanessa and Isatia, the unique Martian gesture of respect, and spoke words the two couldn't understand.

But Vanessa knew what they said.

'Thank you.'

"You don't need to thank us. We didn't save you. It was your own courage and spirit of resistance in the end that led you to complete your vengeance against the tyrant," Vanessa said softly, a gentle smile on her lips. Then, she clasped her hands together, offering a sincere prayer beneath the goddess's gaze, blessing these unfortunate souls who had finally avenged their wrongs, fulfilled their wishes, and achieved liberation.

Like a Saintess bless her faithful.

Beside her, Isatia was stunned by the profoundly moving scene, silently thinking.

'Virtue + 120.'

'Current Virtue: 3624.'

“May you all live without suffering in your next life. The goddess above watches over you,” Vanessa whispered, eyes closed.

At her blessing, the souls filling the church gradually faded away, transforming into countless glowing motes that fluttered out through the doors.

“It's been thousands of years… they're finally free,” Vanessa murmured.

“Mmm.” Isatia seemed moved too, though her expression remained mostly unchanged.

Yet.

Vanessa looked at Isatia, a flicker of concern in her eyes. She stepped closer, gently stroking Isatia's hair, comforting her.

“Don't worry, Isatia. As long as my holy light doesn't extinguish, you'll be safe.”

“I won't let anything happen to you.”

“No need. You should keep your distance, shouldn't you?” Isatia's meaning was clear.

With someone too clever, nothing can stay hidden.

“Is being discovered really more important than saving you?” Vanessa said dismissively.

Isatia's eyes widened slightly.

'Virtue + 100.'

'Current Virtue: 3724.'

“Pfft.” Suddenly, Vanessa leaned toward the church doors and let out a soft chuckle. “Isatia, looks like your problem won't need my help after all.”

“?” Isatia didn't understand, until she looked down and was startled to see row upon row of Imperial Knights standing at attention below.

“You?” Isatia stepped to the edge of the platform, surprised to see the familiar Imperial Knights.

“Your Highness, we're not sure what happened ourselves,” replied a knight captain respectfully.

“Isatia, look outside.”

Following Vanessa's voice, Isatia turned toward the church entrance, and was astonished to see that the normally pitch-black interior of the [Eternal Imperial Crown] had somehow regained vitality. All structures had returned to their pre-collapse state.