I WILL BURN CHURCH TO THE ASH

That night, Aria couldn't sleep. Too many questions circled in her mind. Abigel was changing—becoming different, sharper, closer. Icarus had grown unusually protective. Her own memories were returning… But Su-yeon's memories were starting to vanish.

Should she focus on surviving in this life?

Or wait, hope, fear… being sent back?

But in the end, Aria made her decision.

I will live this life, she thought, instead of drowning in the probability of going back.

She turned on her side, staring at the canopy of her bed, and whispered:

"System, show me the golden aura details."

Name: Golden Aura

Origin: Glitch-Origin Soul Binding (Unstable)

Holder: Aria (User ID: [Redacted])

Classification: Forbidden

Tier: Unknown

Status: Active (Suppressed)

Abilities Unlocked:

– Soul-Link Tracing: Can trace a curse or blessing to its source.

– Miracle Perception: Grants limited perception of divine interference or timeline alterations.

– Immortal Memory: Remembers events across resets/lives without full synchronization.

– Judgmental Presence: Radiates an aura that causes entities to hesitate, fear, or worship—depending on alignment.

Risk:

– Aura is unstable. May draw attention from celestial beings or forgotten gods.

– Prolonged use could fracture the soul core or cause permanent divergence from the timeline.

– Contains remnants of a divine error. The system cannot fully control or interpret it.

Aria frowned. "But… why is it suppressed? It's like you don't want me to have access to it at all."

No answer. The system remained silent.

She reread the entry again.

"Immortal memory…" she whispered, pressing her palm to her forehead. "Then why do I feel like the memories I'm losing… weren't even mine to begin with?"

There was no confirmation. No denial.

But one thing became clear—

The system didn't want her to have full access to the golden aura.

Aria looked up at the ceiling, her voice barely more than breath.

"Fine… looks like I'll do the opposite of what you expect, Faith."

The news had spread like wildfire: The High Priest and his entourage had entered the capital.

"Why are the priests here?" echoed through the streets and halls alike.

That morning, the palace was a blur of clashing steel, hurried steps, and silken robes—preparing for visitors no one wanted, but no one dared ignore.

In the grand hall, Khalid and Lioan already stood at one side of the long table. The rest of the royal family—Caisson, Selene, Theo, Liam, and Aria—took their seats as the doors opened.

Men in white robes stepped in with unshaken grace. Their presence exuded divine weight—a glow that didn't need light to be seen.

"Your Highness," said the High Priest, Immanuel, bowing deeply to Caisson.

"Rise. Take your seats," Caisson replied coolly.

Immanuel's eyes swept across the room… then paused. Just for a second. His gaze locked on Aria like something ancient was whispering through him.

"We received your letter," Immanuel said. "The Church is prepared to assist in locating the Shadow. We'll grant access to the sealed records."

Khalid leaned forward, amused. "That's good news. Maybe we'll finally learn why the Shadow hates the Duchess and my uncle so personally."

"But in return…" Immanuel said slowly, "we request that Aria Kaelen undergo the rites to become the next Saintess."

The response was instant.

"No."

Voices rang in unison—Caisson's, Selene's, Liam's, even Theo's low growl.

"I expected resistance," Immanuel said calmly. "But allow me to explain. When Aria Kaelen entered this world, the old Saintess Vessel—long dormant—began to glow. That has not happened in over a century."

"You mean the vessel you kept hidden in your temple?" Liam shot back. "Don't act like it's a miracle when you've buried truths for generations."

"The Church had nothing to do with the Saintess's death," a younger priest interjected. "There is no record of—"

"There was a record," Liam snapped. "Until someone cleansed your archives in the last purge. Don't talk to me about misunderstandings."

"Enough," Caisson said, cold and sharp. "Explain your terms."

"If Aria Kaelen accepts the Rite of Sanctification," Immanuel said, "the Church will offer full cooperation. Access to relics, sealed texts… and assistance in destroying the Shadow permanently."

A long silence.

Then Leo asked, "But wasn't the Shadow originally sealed beneath the Grand Temple itself?"

Immanuel flinched.

The silence deepened.

"Are you wondering how the Duke of the North knew about a secret the Church buried?" Theo's voice cut through the murmuring room, cool and razor-sharp.

He rose slowly, unfurling aged documents with seals older than most kingdoms. "You forget who our mother was. And our grandfather."

He placed the records onto the table, parchment crackling under the weight of truth. "The North keeps everything. Records the Church erased. Names you buried. Crimes you called miracles. If you planned to take Aria…" He paused, gaze firm on Immanuel."I came prepared."

For a moment, silence reigned.

Then Immanuel smiled—not pleasantly. It was the kind of smile wolves wear when the cage door opens.

"Ah, yes," he chuckled softly. "The late Duke… the 'Soul Forger.' A man cursed to see every timeline, every possible truth… until madness consumed him."

His eyes locked onto Theo's. "So the North still clutches at echoes of a madman?"

Then his smile dropped.

"You should also know this, Duke Theodore: the Church will take the girl. Whether by sanctification or sacrifice. That part… was never negotiable."

His voice dropped, not threatening—but prophetic, like a bell ringing through centuries.

"Because what she carries was never meant to exist. And every moment she draws breath… the world tilts further from order."

The temperature in the chamber seemed to drop.

A silence so cold it burned followed Immanuel's final words.

Then—"Say that again."

The voice was soft. Lethal.

Everyone turned. Selene Althaea, Duchess of the South, hadn't raised her voice. She didn't need to. The frost in her tone was enough to make even seasoned knights flinch.

Immanuel turned to her, lips parting to speak—

Crash.

The goblet in Selene's hand shattered in her grip, blood dripping down her palm, ignored.

"You come into my kingdom," she said slowly, rising with a queen's wrath wrapped around her like a second skin, "to threaten us ?"

"You speak of balance? Of divine order?" Selene stepped forward. "Tell me, Priest. Where was your divine order when I begged your church to bless my womb—only to lose child after child? Where was your God when my family was hunted, when shadows tore through my men?"

Immanuel opened his mouth—

Her voice snapped like a whip. "You don't get to rewrite history in front of those who bled for it."

Selene's eyes burned. "You will not take Aria."

Immanuel tried to recover his poise. "It is the will of the divine."

"No," Selene hissed. "It is the greed of men hiding behind robes and rituals."

Then her voice lowered, barely a whisper—"If you so much as touch a strand of her hair, I will burn the Church to ash. And salt the land it stood upon."

The silence that followed was absolute.