The Surrender Of The Second Peccavi

Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he thrust the glaive into the ground. The weapon pulsed with a vibrant sapphire glow as he activated Sapphire Resonance.

The effect was immediate and overwhelming. Sapphire energy rippled outward, cascading over every surface of the cathedral like a tidal wave. Walls, columns, and even the vaulted ceiling became encased in thick sapphire that glittered like frost.

The cold aura that radiated from it felt alive, spreading rapidly and snuffing out any lingering remnants of Peccavi's energy.

The shattered statue trembled under the onslaught, struck by countless sapphire shards erupting from the floor. One final, massive spike surged upward, obliterating the last vestiges of the First Peccavi in a resounding crash.

Vastarael fell to his knees, clutching his glaive for support. His vision blurred as another violent cough wracked his body, sending a fresh spray of blood onto the frozen ground.

Each breath was a struggle, his body protesting the immense toll his Tethers had taken.

Then, a notification echoed in his mind, cutting through the haze of exhaustion:

[You have defeated the First Peccavi.]

[Your physical body has gotten stronger.]

[You have received a Fragment of Peccavi.]

For a moment, he allowed himself the smallest hint of relief, but the sensation was fleeting.

"One timeline gone," Vastarael whispered. "Only one remains."

The silence that followed was short-lived. The ground beneath him cracked, the sound reverberating through the frozen cathedral. An icy wind tore through the room, scattering shards of sapphire like brittle leaves. The temperature plummeted further as a foreboding presence made itself known.

Chains clinked softly at first, their rattling growing louder with every passing second. From the far end of the cathedral, a figure began to materialize, her arrival heralded by a suffocating chill.

Her form was both spectral and solid, her movements sending ripples of frost across the sapphire floor. Chains swirled around her like serpents, glowing faintly with a cold light that seemed to dim the room even further.

Vastarael straightened, using his glaive to push himself to his feet. A bloodied grin spread across his face despite the exhaustion weighing him down. He knew what—no, who—this was.

"So," he said, his voice hoarse but filled with defiance, "you're the Winter Labor, aren't you? I didn't expect her to be the priestess herself."

The chains surrounding the figure tightened, the glow intensifying as if to confirm his words. Her icy gaze locked onto him. She was covered in total darkness.

Vastarael tightened his grip on the glaive, planting it firmly into the ground to anchor himself.

The spectral energy surrounding the second Peccavi rippled and cracked like a fragile shell under unseen pressure. The black energy surrounding her vanished in an instant.

The chains that bound her clattered as she dropped to one knee, her head bowing so low that her long golden hair spilled over her face like a shimmering curtain.

"What the..."

"My loyalty..." she said, her voice trembling, "I give it to you under the world of Spheraphase itself. My life, my strength... it is yours."

Vastarael stood still, his glaive steady in his grasp though his arms felt like lead. He frowned, his golden eyes narrowing in suspicion.

'She gave up? Seriously?'

"Loyalty?Why... now? What is this supposed to mean?"

She slowly lifted her face, her crimson eyes shimmering with unshed tears that seemed too human for someone who had just tried to kill him. The dark energy cloaking her body faded in ribbons, unraveling to reveal her form more clearly.

She was slender, yet there was a quiet strength in her posture. Her pale, alabaster skin gleamed faintly under the light of the church. Her golden hair cascaded over her shoulders like molten sunlight.

"I have nothing left," she confessed, her voice cracking. "My people… my tribe… my family. They're gone. Destroyed. Twice now, I've tried to protect them. Twice, I've failed them. I have no purpose left. No reason to fight. No one to fight for."

Her tears finally broke free, sliding down her cheeks. The sight of them unnerved Vastarael more than her spectral form ever had. This wasn't the proud, powerful Peccavi he had fought moments ago.

This was someone who had lost everything and had finally reached the end of her resolve.

"I've lived for centuries in torment, holding on to the fragments of what was, hoping to make it right. And now... after failing again, I realize… I am nothing. No one. A relic of a forgotten time. If I cannot protect what I once loved, then I will find a new purpose. A new master. A new reason to exist. I swear to you, Vastarael Richinaria, my loyalty will never waver again."

Vastarael's grip on his glaive tightened, his golden eyes searching her for any signs of deception, but there were none. Only raw honesty and despair. He tilted his head slightly, allowing himself a moment to study her.

The last remnants of the dark energy peeled away, revealing her completely. Her beauty was breathtaking, almost unnaturally so, yet it was the sadness in her crimson eyes that held his focus.

She has a submissive personality.

She depends on external forces to guide their decisions, actions, and thoughts. Without someone or something to submit to, they feel directionless and lost. Their identity becomes deeply tied to those they serve, and their sense of self-worth is contingent upon being needed by others.

They find comfort in the boundaries placed on them, whether these boundaries come from a person or from an external force. Without these limitations, they may feel as though they have no purpose.

Despite appearing to be passive or weak serving someone, people with this personality can paradoxically be incredibly strong in their devotion.

Their service is not a sign of weakness but of deep, almost spiritual conviction. It can also be seen as an intense focus on the needs of others and a willingness to endure hardship or challenge for the sake of another's goals.

The submissive spirit does not seek to dominate or control; they thrive in environments where they are directed, shaped, and molded.

Vastarael saw this personality a lot of times with priests, priestesses and religious leaders in religion factions back in his first life, especially after the news that gods existed.

Peccavi's purpose was to defeat her past self but Vastarael completed it for her. Now, she had nothing to live for. She wouldn't care if she died.

And for Vastarael, seeing Peccavi's story on the murals made him feel like he was the same as he was. She was used by a powerful Krepsuna to destroy her home without knowing.

In his first life, he was experimented on for the sake of the 'betterment of humanity' bullshit, something that he hated a lot. Both of them were used for means that only gave them pain and immense loss.

He sympathized with her.

"Phaenora, what's your take on this?"

From within, Phaenora's teasing voice was alight with glee.

[Veneri, are you blind? This is a golden opportunity. She's more than sincere. And do you know what this means? You've just gotten yourself one heck of a subordinate!]

"Subordinate?"

[Yes, subordinate! She's clearly powerful and more importantly, she's tied to this world. You'd be foolish to turn her down! Also, when you become a God, you need a Priestess, right? You have a devout follower whose life entirely depends on serving someone to feel fulfilled. She's perfect!]

The second Peccavi raised her head slightly, sensing his hesitation.

"Please," she whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "Give me a purpose. Let me serve you. It's all I have left to offer."

Vastarael's chest tightened. This wasn't just about power or gaining an ally. There was an emptiness in her words that he recognized all too well. He exhaled slowly and nodded.

"Alright. I'll take you in. From this moment, you'll serve me. But this isn't about blind loyalty. You'll follow my commands and I expect you to find your own strength along the way. Do you understand?"

Her crimson eyes widened, and she nodded fervently.

"I swear it."

Vastarael raised his hand and summoned the energy for the Sapphire Bond. The light enveloped her, swirling in patterns before sinking into her form.

The transformation was instantaneous. The chains that had bound her shattered and dissolved into sapphire light, leaving her standing taller, freer, and… alive.

But the effort cost him.

Vastarael felt his essence drain completely, his body giving way as exhaustion took hold. He coughed violently, blood splattering onto the ground as his vision blurred.

[Veneri!]

Before he could relish the moment or even speak another word, his legs buckled and he collapsed. Darkness swallowed him, leaving his new Sapphire kneeling beside him, her hands trembling as she reached out, unsure how to save the man who had just given her a second chance.

"I have two subordinates now..."