The Immune Priestess

Peccavi was surprisingly fine.

She could walk normally on the flowers and the spore mist didn't affect her at all. This wasn't because that she was the previous Winter Labor. Even the Blizzard's Wrath didn't like going to the Island of Peony because of its nature.

Peccavi didn't know much about the island. The only information she knew from her past lives was that it was created during the Destras Cataclysm three hundred years ago.

Peccavi could feel a surge of power coming out of her. It was sapphire blue essence that surprisingly shielded her from the flowers. She even experimented it by stepping on one of them.

Nothing happened.

"Does Lord Vastarael have some sort of immunity towards flowers?"

She asked herself as she touched a red peony, which surprisingly made its vines and branches coil around her arm but it didn't harm her. This was something so shocking for her but for some reason, she felt calm just by touching them.

But that calm was shattered by the sound of harsh, hacking coughs in the distance.

Peccavi's gaze snapped upward. She spotted two figures lying among the flowers, their bodies writhing in agony. Red blooms had begun to sprout from their skin. Deep, vibrant petals bursting grotesquely from their arms, necks, and even their faces. Thorny vines slithered out from the wounds, wrapping tightly around their limbs as though trying to pull them into the ground.

Without hesitation, Peccavi approached them. The flowers recoiled slightly as she drew near, as though sensing her protective aura.

The two girls—teenagers by the look of them—noticed her approach. Their eyes, bloodshot and wide with terror, locked onto her. They tried to speak but the flowers choking their throats made it impossible.

Peccavi knelt beside them. Her essence flared slightly, enveloping her in a soft glow.

"Don't move. This will hurt, but it's the only way to save you."

She didn't know if it would work but she knew that it was something she had to do.

She placed her hand on the first girl, whose arm was almost completely overtaken by blooms. The moment her fingers made contact, the golden essence surged into the girl's body. The flowers reacted violently, thrashing and writhing as if in protest.

The girl let out a blood-curdling scream as the flowers began to detach themselves from her skin. The thorny vines tore out of her flesh, leaving long, painful wounds in their wake. Peccavi grimaced but did not falter, focusing her essence on purging every last bloom.

The process was agonizing to watch. The flowers didn't simply fall away. They fought back, clawing at the girl's body as though trying to root themselves deeper. But Peccavi's golden essence was relentless and one by one, the blooms were forced out.

When it was over, the girl collapsed onto the ground, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. The vines and petals lay scattered around her, lifeless and inert. Her body was covered in bloody scratches and puncture marks, but she was alive.

Peccavi turned to the second girl, who was watching with a mixture of hope and horror.

"Your turn," she said softly.

The process repeated and the second girl's screams echoed through the crimson field as the flowers were torn from her body. The vines writhed and lashed out, leaving deep gouges in her skin, but Peccavi's sapphire essence burned through them like a cleansing fire.

Finally, it was done. Both girls lay on the ground, trembling and gasping for air. Their bodies were battered and bleeding, but the peonies were gone.

And also, they were not affected by the flowers anymore even though they were close to them.

Peccavi stood, her gaze softening as she looked down at them. It was horrific seeing something like that.

"Are you alright?"

The first girl managed to sit up, wincing as she cradled her injured arm.

"Y-Yeah. I think so…"

The second girl nodded weakly, her hands shaking as she tried to wipe the blood from her face.

"Thank you… I don't know how you did that, but thank you…"

Peccavi extended a hand to help them up. "What are your names?"

"Taryenne," the first girl said, her voice hoarse.

"Rienne," the second girl added.

"Taryenne and Rienne. You're safe now, but we need to keep moving. The flowers won't stay dormant for long. I might be immune to them but you—"

Peccavi's words were cut short as the two girls suddenly fell to their knees, their trembling hands clutching at her dress.

"Please!" Taryenne pleaded, her voice strained with desperation. "You have to help the others. The Raukerai tribe... they're dying!"

Rienne, tears streaming down her face, nodded fervently.

"We came here two days ago… Half of them are already gone. The rest… they're not far from death. Please, you're the only one who can help them!"

Peccavi's crimson eyes softened as she looked down at the girls. Their anguish was palpable, their voices choked with grief and despair. The sapphire glow around her seemed to brighten slightly as if reacting to her resolve.

She knelt, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

"The Raukerai tribe? The People of The Frozen Sun?"

Taryenne nodded quickly, "Yes… we came with them to this cursed island. We were looking for shelter, a way to survive this nightmare. But the flowers... they… they don't stop. They're everywhere. The mist has infected everyone. We were sent to find help, but no one can even get near this place. The tribe is trapped."

Peccavi's mind raced as a name surfaced, unbidden. The Raukerai. If she remembered correctly, that was where Vastarael had planned to go before they were separated. A flicker of hope lit in her chest.

"Do you know someone named Vastarael?"

She asked, her tone more intense now.

The girls' eyes widened.

"Yes!" Taryenne exclaimed. "He was with us! He helped us with the migration!"

Peccavi's lips curved into a faint smile. She rose to her feet, extending a hand to help the girls up.

"Lead the way. I'm Lord Vastarael's subordinate. It's fair if I help you."

The girls hesitated for a moment, exchanging nervous glances.

"You'll help them?" Rienne asked cautiously.

Peccavi nodded.

"If Lord Vastarael was with your tribe, I owe it to him, and to you, to try. Let's not waste any more time. Show me where they are."

The two girls clutched her hands as they rose, still shaky but bolstered by her calm presence. They began to walk through the crimson mist. Though the air was heavy with the scent of blood and flowers, Peccavi moved with confidence, her sapphire essence pushing back the invasive spores.

Taryenne glanced at her, her voice trembling as she asked;

"You… you're not afraid?"

Peccavi smirked faintly. "Of the flowers? No. Of what's ahead? Perhaps. But that's the thing about fear, it only controls you if you let it."

The girls seemed to draw strength from her words, their steps quickening as they led her toward the heart of the island. Whatever horrors awaited them with the Raukerai tribe, Peccavi was ready to face them. For Vastarael, for these girls, and for the countless lives that hung in the balance.

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