"Then let me prove it to you, Relian."
Her voice, like melting snow in early spring, slowly fell, "Faith is not just waiting for the favor of the gods."
"It can also be the light between us, the spark that is still willing to pass on hope in the darkness."
"You don't have to believe now, but please, don't extinguish this spark."
Relian didn't respond, only turned his head away, as if not wanting her to see the fleeting moisture in his eyes.
He raised his hand and pointed to the wooden crate in the square, the place where he commanded this small commoner mutual aid organization, his "symbol of power."
"You can stay."
"First prove that your faith can truly save us, then we can talk about other things."
His voice was low, but no longer cold and hard.
Liriel nodded gently, the light in her eyes still present, yet it also made the night finally recede an inch.
She slowly turned, her gaze falling on the cages on one side of the square.
She quietly gazed at one of the elves, the most severely affected among all the mutated ones.
His body was pressed against the cage wall, his arms wrapped around his knees, curled up in a corner, his hair disheveled, and his skin covered with the glassy cracks characteristic of mutated beings.
He trembled incessantly, a low growl emanating from deep within his throat, as if desperately suppressing some imminent power within him.
His eyes were unfocused, yet he greedily stared at the mana crystal in the hands of the elves in the distance.
"He is Selan," Relian slowly began, his voice deep and strong, "He was once a painter, gentle in nature."
"However, now, he is only obsessed with mana."
"Three days ago, he started biting his own arm; yesterday, he tried to break out of the cage. If we hadn't locked him up, he would have escaped long ago."
Liriel nodded, slowly approaching the cage.
"What do you want to do?" Relian's eyes tightened, and he quickly followed, "We've tried many methods, he's already—beyond saving!"
"He can still be saved," Liriel said calmly, her tone unwavering, yet carrying a strange warmth.
She knelt before the cage, extending one hand—she didn't open the cage door, but simply gently placed her palm on the wooden bars.
"Selan," she called softly.
The elf inside showed no reaction, continuing to growl like a beast, muttering fragmented words, showing no trace of intelligence.
Liriel closed her eyes, and a faint golden-red halo slowly appeared on her fingertips, that was her divine grace, a power from Obsidian—a five-ring divine spell, [Greater Restoration]!
The light slowly spread, through the air, through the bars, through the cracks, reaching the soul on the verge of collapse in the cage.
Selan suddenly froze.
He slowly raised his head, his cloudy eyes fixed on Liriel, his lips slightly parted, but no sound came out.
Then, he let out a piercing roar, suddenly lunging at the cage door, his hands tightly gripping the wooden bars!
"He's going to attack you!" Relian exclaimed in surprise, about to step forward to stop him.
—Don't move," Liriel said softly, without opening her eyes, her expression serene.
The moment that roar came, the golden-red light on her fingertips suddenly brightened, directly touching the mutated elf's forehead.
"In the name of the Dragon God—be restored."
A warm power suddenly surged into the depths of Selan's consciousness!
At that instant, he convulsed violently as if burned by light, suffering excruciating pain, but the madness and confusion in his eyes miraculously eased for a moment.
His breathing began to quicken, his voice no longer a beastly growl, but more like a whimper.
"...Pain—stop—" he whispered, his voice hoarse, yet it was the first human word he had spoken in days.
Liriel smiled slightly, her hand on his forehead not retracting, but instead reaching forward, gently stroking Selan's head.
"Good boy, it'll be over soon."
And Selan, under this gentle comfort, miraculously calmed down, no longer struggling, though his body still trembled slightly from the pain.
A glimmer of tears flashed in his cloudy eyes; he was finally freed from the endless mana addiction, and now the only thing he could feel was the warmth and peace from Liriel.
"When his light shines upon the world, people will receive salvation," Liriel said slowly in a soft tone.
At this moment, the square was silent.
The observing elves, Relian, and even some of the mutated ones, all stared dumbfounded at this miraculous scene.
Relian's mouth twitched slightly, unable to speak for a long time.
His face was filled with shock and confusion, realizing for the first time that the "faith" he had so vehemently rejected
Perhaps it was real, not a fabricated lie.
But he still didn't speak to admit it.
He just silently turned his head away, his face flushed with shame, his voice almost inaudible:
"If you can save the others, I will believe every word you say."
Liriel did not press, did not argue, but simply closed her eyes again and walked to the next cage.
In the time that followed, no one spoke again.
The Saintess walked to each cage again and again, quietly extending her palm, injecting that gentle yet tenacious divine grace into every soul that was on the verge of collapse.
She did not complain, nor did she grow weary.
Those who were once considered irreversibly mutated, one by one, regained their sanity, stopped their agitation, and once again possessed the ability to perceive and think about reality.
They knelt on the ground, weeping uncontrollably, as if waking from a dream.
The entire square was enveloped by an invisible sacred aura, even the residual arcane energy in the air was cleansed, replaced by a tranquility that made one want to listen quietly, worship, and even weep.
And the elves watching, first shocked, then confused, and then—wavering in hesitation.
Some quietly knelt, some clasped their hands, and many more simply stood dumbfounded, yet unable to tear their eyes away.
Relian stood at the front of the crowd, his fists clenched, knuckles white.
He tried to remain calm, telling himself that this was merely some powerful magic, or a carefully orchestrated illusion.
But he knew in his heart, it wasn't.
This was not the arcane they were familiar with, not that power full of temptation and cost.
It was gentle, tenacious, demanded nothing, yet brought healing.
"She's not casting a spell," Relian dimly realized in his heart, "She's guiding the Quel'dorei away from mana addiction."
Finally, the last cage quieted down.
All the former mutated ones had emerged from their violent state; some leaned weakly against the cage walls, some had fallen into a deep sleep, and still others were clearly conscious, looking at Liriel with tears in their eyes.
She slowly stood up, her expression serene, as if she had merely done the most ordinary thing.
"Prepare for the sermon," she said softly to Sindaiseth, without showing any sign of fatigue.
Sindaiseth nodded silently, but then turned to look into the distance—a faint, unusual energy fluctuation was coming from deep within the city, extremely weak, yet carrying an ominous rhythm.
It seemed the nobles' surveillance of the commoner district was even stricter than he had imagined—
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