How should I describe that scream?
If I had to find a reference, it would probably be like a song written by a certain bard named "Jay Chou." The starting pitch was very high, carrying a Gothic eeriness and shrillness. It began with a short "ah," followed by a five-second-long coloratura soprano, even including a vocal run in the middle.
"Ah——!"
"Ah——!"
"The cool morning dew dampens the black suit..."
No, wrong track.
Sister Medea's lung capacity was simply astonishing; Cecilia, the entire dragon, was stunned.
Her two claws were still holding the head of the teru teru bozu that had died with its eyes wide open. Because it was too slippery, the head spun around in her claws, its face now directly facing the nun who was hitting the high notes.
The scene was too beautiful; it was simply unbearable to watch.
Just as Sister Medea was about to take a breath to sing the climax of "In the Name of the Father," a Shadow Claw suddenly reached out from behind her head.
Caesar was helpless.
He had only intended to scout outside; who knew this silly dragon could cause such a commotion in the kitchen. Putting a corpse's head on a plate? What kind of cult ritual was this?
The Garchomp raised its ghost-covered hand blade and cleanly chopped down on Sister Medea's thick nape.
"Thud."
The world fell silent.
Sister Medea's high-pitched singing abruptly stopped, thus avoiding the outcome of this book being taken down due to copyright fees.
"What are you still standing there for?" Caesar lowered his voice, growling at the sneaky silver object on the counter. "Waiting for them to award you the Best Horror Director prize?"
Cecilia finally snapped out of it, scrambling out from behind the shadows.
"Wuwuwu... I was scared to death!"
The Silver Dragon, with a tearful face, grabbed the head on the table and, regardless of whether there were vegetable leaves stuck to it, stuffed it along with the plate underneath into her storage ring.
"And the body! The body!"
The Silver Dragon then pounced on the headless corpse she had thrown in the corner earlier. It was truly heavy; she dragged and pulled with great effort before finally stuffing the torso wearing the holy robe inside as well.
From the corridor outside came the sound of hurried footsteps and clanking armor.
"Where did that sound come from?"
"The kitchen! It's from the kitchen!"
"Quick! You go protect the Saintess; the rest, follow me!"
The entire monastery was awakened by that shout.
Caesar glanced at the nun on the floor, then at the messy kitchen.
This fat nun was only unconscious; she would definitely talk nonsense when she woke up.
He needed to come up with an excuse for her.
Caesar's gaze swept over the stove and landed on a bottle of Xista Lake Seasoning Wine in the corner. He grabbed the bottle, pulled out the stopper, poured the remaining half-bottle of wine all over Sister Medea's face and into her mouth, then stuffed the empty bottle into her arms.
Then, the Shadow Claw grabbed a handful of flour and flung it violently into the air.
White dust instantly filled the entire kitchen, obscuring vision——
"Retreat!"
Caesar scooped up the still-dazed Silver Dragon, flashed, and rushed out of the kitchen's back door just before the others arrived, disappearing into the night.
A few seconds later.
"Bang!"
The kitchen door was kicked open roughly.
Given the emergency, the High Paladin no longer hesitated and directly led a team of fully armed knights inside, their longswords gleaming coldly.
"Don't move!"
They were greeted by a room filled with flying flour and Sister Medea lying unconscious on the floor.
The High Paladin waved away the dust in front of him, frowned, and stepped forward, crouching down to check.
A strong smell of alcohol hit him.
"Is this... drunk?"
The Knight Commander's face turned ashen.
Today was an important day to welcome the Saintess, and the nun in charge of the monastery was hiding in the kitchen drinking? And causing a drunken ruckus?
What kind of behavior was this!
"Splash water on her to wake her up!" The Knight Commander stood up, looking serious. "The rest of you, search the surroundings. See if there are any suspicious individuals!"
...
Guest room.
The window silently slid open a crack.
A creature the size of a fluorescent little dragon slipped in, transforming into human form the moment it landed.
Cecilia scrambled toward the bed, not even bothering to take off her shoes, and directly burrowed under the covers, wrapping herself up like a silkworm cocoon.
Caesar did not come in; his dragon body was too large and could only hang on the wall outside the window like a giant gecko. He spoke in Dragon Language: "Stay calm, don't give yourself away. That nun didn't see my face clearly earlier, only the head. As long as you don't admit it, it was just a hallucination from her drinking too much."
"But... but..."
Cecilia trembled under the covers, her voice tearful. "I was in such a hurry earlier that I think I also put a kitchen plate inside..."
Caesar rolled his eyes.
Such little nerve.
"What's the big deal about a missing plate? The monastery will just think that fat nun broke it tomorrow." Caesar said impatiently. "Remember, you're the Saintess now. You have morning grumpiness. You need to act very displeased at being disturbed, understand?"
"Under... understood."
As soon as she finished speaking, a light knock came from outside the door.
"Saintess, are you alright?"
It was the female paladin's voice, sounding somewhat helpless.
Cecilia let out a sigh, trying hard to recall the "aloof persona" Caesar had taught her.
She cleared her throat, trying to make her voice sound hoarse from just waking up and carrying a displeasure at being disturbed.
"...What is all this commotion?"
The voice outside paused for a moment, as if relieved.
"I'm very sorry to disturb your rest, Saintess. Just now, there was a little... incident in the monastery. The Knight Commander was concerned for your safety and specifically sent me to check on you."
Still need to check?
Cecilia's heart tightened, and she subconsciously clamped her legs together under the covers—her tail had slipped out again and was restlessly moving about.
"Come in," she said, feigning composure.
The door was pushed open.
The fully armed female paladin walked in slowly. Her hand rested on her sword hilt, and her sharp gaze scanned every corner of the room.
The window was closed, the curtains drawn, with no signs of damage.
The Saintess was half-leaning against the headboard, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders, her expression indifferent, with a hint of drowsiness from being disturbed. The "tear of light" symbolizing her identity hung quietly around her fair neck, emitting a soft glow.
Everything seemed normal.
Except...
The female paladin's nose twitched.
Why was there a smell of... meat broth in the room? And the kind with lots of onions and black pepper?
Her gaze fell on the Saintess's tightly closed lips, where there seemed to be a suspicious oily sheen.
Cecilia, feeling uneasy under her stare, quickly raised the back of her hand and, under the pretense of yawning, swiftly wiped the corner of her mouth.
"Is there a problem?" "Colette" slightly frowned, her tone turning cold.
The female paladin snapped back to reality and quickly lowered her head.
"No, nothing. It's just... earlier we found an unconscious nun in the kitchen, and there were... uh, signs of some food theft at the scene."
At this, her expression became somewhat odd.
When they had rushed into the kitchen earlier, the scene they saw was simply absurd. That nun in charge of the kitchen, Sister Medea, had a bottle of seasoning wine stuffed in her arms, lying sprawled on the floor, with spilled onion soup all around.
It seemed she had been sneaking food in the middle of the night and ended up getting herself drunk.
It was truly a disgrace to the monastery.
But out of professional instinct, the female paladin still felt something was off. That scream had been too shrill, unlike something a drunken person could produce.
"Food theft?" Cecilia blinked, looking innocent. "But I... seemed to hear a scream earlier?"
"Yes, Saintess." The female paladin sounded somewhat embarrassed. "To be precise, it was from the kitchen... Sister Medea seemed to have gotten drunk and caused a bit of a scene. It disturbed you, and for that, I apologize."
"Drunk?"
Cecilia slightly frowned, showing a compassionate expression—though in her heart, she was also feeling remorseful.
"May the Dragon... ahem, may the god of light forgive her indulgence. I'm fine; it's safe here."
"Thank you for your grace. Please continue to rest; the knights will strengthen the guard."
The female paladin said this as she backed out, closing the door behind her.
Only after the footsteps faded away did Cecilia let out a long sigh, collapsing onto the bed like a deflated balloon.
"Scared This Young Lady to death..."
She threw off the covers, and her Silver Dragon tail finally freed itself, slipping out from under her skirt and patting the bedsheet.
That was really close earlier. If that female paladin had looked a bit longer, she would definitely have noticed that Cecilia's face was oily and her stomach was unusually bloated.
"That earth dragon bastard didn't even stay to help me."
Cecilia muttered, touching the "tear of light" on her chest.
This thing had suddenly heated up when the Knight Commander entered earlier, startling her.
But then again, being full makes one sleepy.
That pot of meat broth, though lacking in seasoning, was simply heavenly delicious for a dragon that had been starving for days. Now her stomach was warm, and a strong drowsiness washed over her.
"Whatever, I'll Sleep first. Deal with tomorrow's problems tomorrow."
The carefree Silver Dragon rolled herself up in the covers, wrapping herself into a silkworm cocoon, and within seconds, she was drifting off to Sleep.
She slept very deeply.
In her dream, she was no longer the anxious impostor Saintess, nor the clumsy fat dragon despised by Caesar.
She dreamed she was floating in an endless golden sea.
Warm, peaceful.
In the distance, a blurry light seemed to be waving at her. That light was gentle, like a big sister, and it seemed to be calling out something.
"...Save..."
"...Lordaeron..."
The voice was intermittent, hard to make out clearly.
Cecilia wanted to fly over to see clearly, but her body felt as heavy as lead. She was too tired; she couldn't even lift her wings.
So she simply turned over in her dream, curled herself into a ball, muttered "Don't disturb me, five more minutes," and then completely lost consciousness.
That light seemed to sigh and gradually dissipated into the golden ripples.
...
Early the next morning, before dawn had fully broken, Cecilia was "invited" out of bed by a group of nuns.
With dark circles under her eyes, she was groggily pressed in front of the dressing table, letting them comb her silver hair and dress her in intricate pure white holy robes.
"Saintess, today is the final day of your holy pilgrimage." The lead elderly nun spoke respectfully. "You will receive the Lord's baptism at the Osterburg Cathedral of Light and demonstrate your piety and divine grace to all the faithful in the city."
Demonstrate divine grace?
Cecilia jolted awake, her drowsiness instantly gone.
What divine grace? She only knew how to breathe fire and set off fireworks!
Though she wanted to ask Caesar for help, that earth dragon had disappeared after slipping away last night. Now she was surrounded by a crowd of enthusiastic believers, with no chance to even send a message.
It's over; she was really going to be exposed this time!
Half an hour later, Osterburg Cathedral. One of the oldest buildings on the border of the Lordaeron Empire.
Above the simple dome, stained glass depicted the epic of the gods creating the world. Sunlight pierced through the glass, casting colorful spots of light onto the sea of black-clad people below.
Hundreds of believers filled every corner of the cathedral. They looked solemn, their eyes fervent, softly chanting prayers as they awaited the arrival of the Saintess Candidate.
When Cecilia, escorted by paladins, stepped onto the holy path paved with red carpet in the center of the cathedral, all eyes converged on her.
"It's Lady Colette!"
"Heavens, she's even more holy than in the portraits..."
"I can feel it, that pure power of light!"
The crowd fervently shouted the Saintess's name, the wave of sound making Cecilia shrink her neck guiltily.
She even saw an old man faint on the spot from excitement, convulsing.
"Is that necessary..." Cecilia muttered softly.
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the bell tower opposite the cathedral, a tall figure cloaked in black stood quietly.
Caesar, using the concealment effect of the [spy cloak], blended almost seamlessly with the background. His golden vertical pupils pierced through the bustling crowd, fixed intently on the silver-haired girl stiffly walking the holy path.
"This idiot, her hands are moving in sync, and she hasn't even noticed." Caesar's eye twitched slightly.
He sighed helplessly. If it weren't for that possibly existing "Slate," he would really want to go down right now and drag this embarrassing creature away.
After investigating all morning, he had roughly understood what the Church of Light's so-called "holy pilgrimage" was about. In essence, it was somewhat like an election in the U.S. And as the Saintess Candidate, "Colette Anastasia," she needed to gain as much support as possible from the local congregation along her pilgrimage route. This was also to enhance the religious cohesion.
By now, Cecilia had already ascended the high platform. The archbishop opposite her bowed slightly, his gaze carrying a scrutinizing look. "The final stop of the holy pilgrimage. According to tradition, the Saintess needs to demonstrate a miracle to the lost faithful and lead the holy song to cleanse the dust of this city."
Cecilia's heart skipped a beat.
A miracle?
What to do, what to do.
She looked toward the distant bell tower for help, but under the glaring sunlight, she couldn't see anything.
"Saintess?" the archbishop urged.
High Paladin Roderick also rested his hand on his sword hilt, watching her intently. The gazes of tens of thousands of believers around formed an invisible pressure, making Cecilia feel like she was suffocating.
The Silver Dragon's mind went completely blank.
What miracle did she know? She only knew how to eat, Sleep, and set off fireworks!
Wait... set off fireworks?
In the dead silence of the entire venue, in the tense atmosphere that even Caesar could feel from two hundred meters away, Cecilia slowly raised her hand——
Then, let's set off fireworks!
The next second, she cast a secret technique toward the cathedral dome.
[Celebrate]!