Lyrei sprang awake, sweat sticking her clothes to her back.
— Who were those people?
She rubbed her forehead, feeling a little pain in her head as she tried to recollect her memories. She remembered the table, the desk, and the ceilingless room.
She remembered a conversation that occurred. But she could not remember the contents of the conversation.
"Frustration... I'm... Frustration. Or, am I frustrated?"
She spoke softly to herself, seeing how the word sounded as it escaped her lips. After all, that was the only word she remembered.
— What an... odd dream.
She lay back down, snuggling into her blanket and attempting to close her eyes.
— Does this have anything to do with the ritual I have been performing? A side effect, perhaps?
This comfort disappeared instantly, as a second thought appeared in her head. Quickly, she sat up yet again, rolling out of bed and falling hard onto the wooden floor.
Thump!
She rubbed her side, slowly getting up to view the grand spectacle that was her new room, in all its glory.
Her new room was the old saint's room, a majestic, pristine room. The bed could fit three people, with white silk sheets and a bedframe carved from elven wood.
"Wow..."
She had been living there for a few months, yet she still couldn't get over how beautiful it looked.
On the walls, there were portraits of the prior Saints of Gonteno.
There, fourth in line, she saw Meri Ateope, the saint that she killed, staring at her. It was a surreal feeling. Her heartbeat increased.
"So I'm the fifth saint in line, huh?" she said to herself, not even realizing that a smile was on her face.
After a few seconds of staring at the portrait in front of her, she yawned and stretched.
She washed, got into the Saint's clothing, and ran downstairs, deep into the cellar of Granal's (the capital of Gonteno) royal building. Not the same room in which the ceremony was performed, though.
A room she had built specially, with the help of some thugs. Soundproof, with white padded walls. A room for experimentation.
— Why do I have this girl again?
Lyrei placed her hand on the glass, staring through it. Inside the glass, chained to the wall, was Arlene, the woman Keon had spent all this time looking for.
— Oh, right. She healed a broken bone I had gotten from tripping down a step on public stairs. Seeing her insane healing prowess, I had to snatch her up and figure out exactly what part of her makes her heal so well. For the sake of the kingdom, of course.
She smiled cockily as she thought of the last part, staring at the sleeping Keon. Scars and bruises were scattered across her body. She was dressed in tattered clothing, just barely concealing herself.
"And I tricked that psychopath with the screws loose in the head pretty easily. King of the barbarians? What a dumb fella. I even got an extra militia out of that with the alliance I've made. Advancements in medicine from Arlene's blood, and improvements in the military? I'm doing pretty well as the new saint, right?"
Lyrei laughed out and stared at the ceiling, her arms stretched out. Her cynical, mocking laugh suddenly stopped.
"I can't forget about the ritual."
She ran back upstairs, out of the capital, into the forest.
As she ran out, many people waved to say hi. She answered as many people as possible, smiling while speaking.
"How are you?"
"I'm doing fine."
"Keep up the good work."
Kind gestures, things of such nature. After a few minutes of running, she reached the outside gates of the city of Granal. It was heavily guarded.
Being the saint, she could've easily exited. But to remove any suspicion, she decided that hopping over the large cement wall was smarter.
"Heave... ho!" She jumped over the gate in a single leap with her mana enhancement, crashing into the forest that surrounded the city.
Deeper, she ran into the forest until she found a secluded area north of the town, where there were no nearby settlements besides maybe some rogue barbarian camps.
Finally, she let out a heavy breath, sitting cross-legged.
— Haah. I can do this ritual quietly.
Ever since the [Saint Art] was corrupted due to some strange nature, she began to accumulate an unorthodox form of mana. A type of mana that, if built up too much, would cause problems with consciousness, decision-making, and personality.
Along with that, horns would start to form at her forehead, like with the [Cast: Apostle of Hell].
She took a deep breath, slapping her hands together and shutting her eyes tightly.
The process was simple.
She would visualize the wriggling, strange mana that spewed out of her Velian, grabbing it, and purifying it.
Purifying it took a lot of focus and concentration, but it was rewarding.
It would clean the dirty mana, filtering it into a different, but stronger form.
If she used that new, filtered mana instead of the normal mana to enhance her body, it would work a lot better.
So she worked hard, filtering.
The trash left her body through her mouth, seeping out in the form of a black gas.
To clean it in her head was like cleaning anything else. Wiping, scrubbing, and scraping the black dirt off the mana. Except she had to imagine doing that in her head, then process it inside of her Velian.
Two days had passed since the last time she had filtered it all out. So she was there from sunrise to sundown.
"Haah!" she panted.
She quickly opened her eyes, falling to the dirt. Seeing that the sky was now losing its glow, the passage of time had just come to her.
"That was especially draining. I shouldn't ever miss a day if I want to have the time to do something else." She wiped a bit of sweat that had collected on her forehead, getting up from the dirt and swiping dust off her bottom.