Halochassis

The reason why Saint Elwyn was able to resurrect the Demon King was a grim one. It was a secret buried beneath years of bloodshed, grief, and desperate battles, and it was not something anyone would expect from the kind-hearted saint that people worshipped. To most people, Elwyn was simply a miracle worker, a woman who could heal the wounded and bring the dead back to life. Nobody imagined that her greatest blessing would eventually become connected to one of the darkest moments in the history of Empyrea.

Saint Elwyn was not always a saint. She started from humble beginnings, with no noble blood, prestigious family, or powerful connections to her name. When Elwyn was born, she was left in front of the enormous doors of the Cathedral Exa in the Vezaya District. She had been wrapped in a thin, worn blanket, with nothing except the clothes on her back. The stone steps beneath her were cold during the night, and the faint cries of the newborn eventually caught the attention of the nuns who lived inside the cathedral. They opened the doors and discovered the abandoned infant waiting outside.

The nuns took her in without hesitation. Elwyn was raised within the cathedral alongside countless other orphans from the Veza District. Her childhood was spent beneath towering stained-glass windows, surrounded by the smell of burning incense, old stone, candle wax, and freshly washed robes. The cathedral became her home, while the nuns became the closest thing she had to a family. She learned to eat at the same long tables as the other children, sleep in the same modest rooms, and follow the strict routines imposed by the clergy.

When Elwyn reached the age of ten, the nuns began training her to become a proper priestess. Her days became filled with prayers, scripture lessons, healing practices, meditation, and religious ceremonies. She was expected to behave with discipline and humility, just like the other priestess candidates. Unfortunately for the nuns, Elwyn was not exactly the obedient type.

Elwyn was tomboyish and restless, with far too much energy for someone expected to spend hours sitting quietly inside a cathedral. She would often skip nightly prayers whenever she found an opportunity, slipping away before the bells rang and wandering through the darker streets of the Veza District instead. She became familiar with places where proper priestesses were never supposed to go, including the noisy black market where merchants shouted over one another while the smell of cooked meat, smoke, spices, and cheap alcohol filled the narrow streets. On rare occasions, she and the other priestess candidates even managed to sneak bottles of liquor into the cathedral, hiding them beneath their robes while trying desperately not to laugh whenever a nun passed by.

She was far from the model student. She could be troublesome, reckless, and stubborn, and there were plenty of nights when the nuns had to drag her back into the cathedral after she had wandered too far. Yet beneath that mischievous personality was something extraordinary. 

One day, Elwyn awakened an ability that would change her life forever.

She had a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, unlike anything she had experienced before. In that vision, the Cathedral Exa was burning beneath a completely starless sky. Flames crawled across the enormous walls while thick black smoke swallowed the heavens. She could hear people screaming as the cathedral’s bells rang frantically in the distance. The heat of the fire felt so real against her skin that she woke up trembling, her body covered in cold sweat.

Elwyn immediately warned the nuns and the other clergy about the coming disaster. At first, many were reluctant to believe her. She was still only a young priestess candidate, and her reputation for sneaking away from prayers did little to make her warnings sound convincing. However, her persistence eventually convinced them to take precautions. When the attack finally happened, the people of the cathedral were prepared. Because of Elwyn’s warning, countless lives were saved before the flames could consume them.

When she was sixteen, another vision came to her. This time, she predicted the invasion of a Demon General. The warning arrived before the enemy forces could reach the district, giving the clerics and nuns enough time to evacuate and prepare their defenses. The invasion still brought destruction and fear, but the casualties were far lower because Elwyn had seen it coming.

Her healing prowess also became exceptional. Whenever soldiers returned from battles against demons, covered in blood and barely able to stand, Elwyn would work among the wounded without hesitation. The smell of blood and burned flesh filled the treatment areas, while exhausted soldiers groaned on wooden beds around her. She would place her hands over broken bones, deep cuts, and terrible wounds, allowing warm holy energy to flow through her fingers. Flesh would slowly knit together, bleeding would stop, and soldiers who had been certain they were going to die would suddenly find themselves breathing normally again.

That was the main reason why she was eventually called a Saint by the people. Her ability to predict disasters and heal the wounded made her a symbol of hope throughout Veza District. Everyone adored her, including the Celestial Wardens. Despite her rough personality and occasional rebellious behavior, they came to trust her completely. She had already proven that she would risk herself for others, even when she was frightened or exhausted.

Elwyn was also able to revive Alexander Goldheart when he died for the first time, long before the Celestial Wardens received the Goddess’s blessings. Alexander’s death had left the other heroes devastated, but Elwyn refused to accept that he was truly gone. She used everything she had, forcing her healing power beyond its normal limits. When Alexander finally opened his eyes again, the people around him could barely believe what they were witnessing. Elwyn had brought a dead man back to life.

Because of her valor and bravery, Alexander Goldheart himself offered her membership in the hero’s party. Elwyn did not immediately accept. She understood that joining the Celestial Wardens meant leaving the cathedral, abandoning the relatively peaceful life she had built there, and walking directly into a war against the Demon King. She also knew that many of the people who joined such campaigns never returned.

It took quite a lot of time before Saint Elwyn finally agreed to accompany the Celestial Wardens on their expedition and campaign against the Demon King. In the end, however, she chose to go. She could not simply remain behind while others risked their lives to protect the world. If her abilities could save even a single person, she believed that she had a responsibility to use them.

When she eventually reached Max Level, Elwyn received the Goddess Blessing: The Autonomous Resurrection. It was an extraordinary blessing, unlike anything she had possessed before. It gave her the ability to automatically resurrect anyone who died directly in front of her. There was no need for lengthy rituals or complicated spells. The moment someone died within her presence, the power of the blessing would activate on its own.

At first, Elwyn used this ability exactly as everyone expected. Whenever one of her allies was killed in battle, she would bring them back. When civilians died during the wars, she resurrected those she could reach. She even used her blessing to revive common soldiers of Empyrea who had fallen on the battlefield. To Elwyn, every life had value, whether the person was a legendary hero, a noble, or an ordinary soldier carrying a simple sword.

However, everything changed when they finally faced the Demon King.

The Celestial Wardens fought desperately against the Demon King, a gigantic figure whose black armored skin looked less like ordinary armor and more like something that had grown directly from his body. His enormous frame towered over the battlefield, while a dark crown rested upon his head. Every movement he made sent tremors through the ground, and the force of his attacks shook the air around the heroes. The clash between the Demon King and the Celestial Wardens became a brutal battle where every second felt like a struggle for survival.

The Demon King possessed an ability that nullified the Goddess’s Blessings, making him an especially dangerous enemy. The powers that had once made the Celestial Wardens nearly unstoppable could no longer be relied upon. Their healing, resurrection, and other divine abilities were rendered useless whenever the Demon King’s power took effect.

During that fight, Lireina dealt the most damage against the Demon King. Her movements were still impossibly fast, and every attack she landed sent powerful gusts of wind tearing across the battlefield. Her bullets and magic struck the Demon King’s enormous body from different directions, forcing him to defend himself against an opponent he could barely keep up with. However, the longer the battle continued, the more the Demon King’s corrupting aura spread across the battlefield.

The air itself became heavy and foul. Every breath felt like inhaling smoke, while an unpleasant pressure settled over their bodies. The longer they remained within the aura, the more their strength drained away. Lireina, who had been fighting at the very front, was the first to succumb. Her legs suddenly gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the ruined ground, her golden hair falling across her face as her body finally went limp.

Then came Cattleo.

The young-looking Silent Warlock had been supporting the others with his magic, freezing moments in time and unleashing spells whenever an opening appeared. But even his extraordinary abilities could not protect him forever. His movements gradually became sluggish until he finally dropped to the ground beside Lireina.

Zerova followed soon after.

The Queen of Shadows had fought through countless wounds without showing fear, relying on her monstrous abilities to survive attacks that would have killed ordinary people. Yet the corrupting aura was something even she could not simply overcome. Her breathing became ragged, her body trembled, and eventually she fell beside the others.

Garruk and Qinglong remained standing longer than the others. Garruk planted his gigantic warhammer into the ground and used his immense defenses to withstand the Demon King’s attacks, each impact producing a thunderous boom that rattled the battlefield. Qinglong continued regenerating every wound inflicted upon him, his body repeatedly knitting itself back together despite the tremendous damage.

But even they had limits.

Garruk’s armor was cracked and battered, while blood ran down his body beneath his damaged equipment. Qinglong’s regeneration became slower with every injury, his flesh struggling to repair itself as quickly as the Demon King could tear it apart. Eventually, even their greatest strengths were no longer enough.

Saint Elwyn was left supporting her fallen allies, desperately moving from one wounded person to another while trying to keep them alive. Her hands trembled as she healed their injuries, but she could do little against the overwhelming corruption surrounding them. The battlefield smelled of blood, scorched earth, and burning magic. Broken weapons and chunks of armor were scattered across the ground, while distant explosions continued to shake the air.

Then there was only one Celestial Warden left standing.

Alexander Goldheart.

Despite everything that had happened, Alexander refused to fall. His body was covered in wounds, his breathing was heavy, and his weapon was battered from the countless clashes. Yet he continued walking toward the Demon King, gripping his existence-erasure sword with both hands.

The Demon King looked at him and laughed.

His voice echoed across the battlefield, deep enough to make the ground seem to tremble.

“I have already won. My physical existence is merely a puppet. I may have been defeated physically, but I shall live forever in your minds and hearts.”

Saint Elwyn never forgot those words.

Even years later, they remained inside her head like a curse. She could still remember the Demon King’s laughter, the way his voice seemed to crawl beneath her skin, and the strange certainty behind his final declaration.

Then Alexander swung his sword.

The blade passed through the Demon King’s enormous body.

There was no explosion. No dramatic scream. Instead, the Demon King’s body simply began to disappear. His existence was erased piece by piece, his gigantic form breaking apart into fragments of darkness before vanishing completely.

With that single strike, Alexander Goldheart delivered the killing blow to the Demon King.

The demon invasion that had corrupted the planet for a millennium finally came to an end.

Everyone celebrated.

But Saint Elwyn noticed something was wrong.

She discovered it some time later, when she attempted to resurrect an elderly man who had died naturally from old age. At first, everything appeared normal. The man’s body stirred, his chest rose with a sudden breath, and his eyes opened.

Then Elwyn noticed the horns.

Two dark horns had emerged from his head. His eyes had become crimson, surrounded by black sclera, while his skin had taken on unnatural features that no human should possess. His resurrected body looked human at first glance, but something demonic had been twisted into its very existence.

Elwyn froze.

She immediately realized that her Autonomous Resurrection was no longer functioning as it should.

The ability could still bring dead bodies back to life, but something had been corrupted in the process. The souls were no longer returning properly to their bodies. Whatever she was resurrecting was not truly the same person who had died.

She was terrified.

Yet she told no one.

If the truth became known, her reputation would be destroyed. She was Saint Elwyn, the great healer of Empyrea, the woman who had brought countless people back from death. Her entire identity had been built around the miracle of resurrection.

If everyone discovered that her blessing had become corrupted, they would no longer call her a saint.

So Elwyn remained silent.

She continued resurrecting the dead while hiding what was happening to them. Every time the corrupted power activated, she carefully concealed the abnormalities and pretended everything had gone according to plan. She knew that something terrible was happening, but rather than stopping, she began to see possibilities within the disaster.

Empyrea had become peaceful.

Too peaceful.

After the Demon King’s death, the great enemy that had united kingdoms, adventurers, soldiers, and heroes was gone. The war had ended, and with it came a strange emptiness. Adventurers had fewer monsters to fight. Heroes had no great enemy to defeat. Even the Celestial Wardens, once celebrated as the greatest defenders of the world, gradually found themselves without a purpose.

Saint Elwyn saw that emptiness and understood what she could do with it.

She could create a new enemy.

Using her Corrupted Autonomous Resurrection, she began creating demons.

At first, they were small experiments. Dead bodies were resurrected and transformed by the corruption within her blessing. Some became weak monsters, while others developed stronger demonic traits. Elwyn observed them carefully, recording their behavior and abilities while keeping her experiments hidden from the public.

Eventually, she realized that the demons could serve a greater purpose.

She allowed them to spread.

Whenever demons appeared, adventurers were needed to hunt them. Soldiers were dispatched to protect settlements. Merchants needed protection. The Adventurer’s Guild received more requests, more contracts, and more rewards. The Cathedral benefited as well, receiving donations from frightened civilians who sought divine protection.

A problem had been created.

And Saint Elwyn had created the solution.

Soon, the majority of the existing demons in Empyrea had been created through her corrupted resurrection. The people believed the demons were simply remnants of the ancient evil that had survived the Demon King’s defeat. Nobody suspected that the woman they worshipped was secretly responsible for their existence.

Elwyn maintained the lie for years.

She also experimented on the Demon King’s remains.

The results were even more disturbing.

She discovered that the Demon King could not simply be resurrected with a single body or a handful of souls. His existence required a specific number of souls before he could manifest his full power. Without enough souls, she could only resurrect a portion of him.

That discovery gave Saint Elwyn another reason to support the current campaign.

The Iron Bandits had become a convenient target.

Their hideout was located in the slums, where countless poor and forgotten people lived. To the authorities, they were criminals. To the Celestial Wardens, they were enemies. To Saint Elwyn, however, they represented something much simpler.

Souls.

She supported the campaign to raid the Iron Bandits’ hideout because she knew that the battle could produce exactly what she needed. If the slum was attacked and enough people died, she could gather their souls and use them in her experiments. Every death brought her one step closer to resurrecting the Demon King in his complete form.

And Saint Elwyn knew something else.

Nobody cared about the people living in the slums.

They were poor. They were criminals. They were forgotten by nobles and ignored by the wealthy. If hundreds of them died during a raid, the rest of Empyrea would mourn for a moment before moving on.

For Saint Elwyn, it was the perfect farm.

She could gather souls, strengthen the Demon King, and create another threat for the heroes to defeat. The cycle could continue forever. Monsters would appear, adventurers would hunt them, the Cathedral would profit, and the heroes would once again have a purpose.

She could save the world from problems that she had secretly created herself.

Whenever doubt began creeping into her mind, Elwyn repeated the same words.

It can’t be helped. It’s not my fault that my ability got corrupted. I did nothing wrong.

She whispered those words whenever she was alone, sometimes beneath her breath as she walked through the silent halls of the cathedral. She repeated them while standing before the bodies of people she had resurrected. She repeated them when demons appeared because of her actions. She repeated them whenever another innocent person became nothing more than a number in her calculations.

It can’t be helped.

The words became her shield.

It’s not my fault.

Her excuse.

I did nothing wrong.

Her lie.

And Saint Elwyn repeated that lie so many times that she eventually began to believe it herself.