It was already late at night after her bath, and Roseliel was lying alone on the large bed in her room.
At this moment, her posture was thoroughly ungraceful as she sprawled across the bed in a star shape. If her etiquette teacher saw her now, they would likely scream out loud.
Even though she had been so sleepy her eyes could barely stay open before coming home, now that she was actually lying down, her drowsiness had vanished completely as if drained right out of her.
Perhaps the lingering shock of a whole night's adventure was still settling, or perhaps it was because the sword hovering over her head had finally shifted away for the time being.
In short, she had insomnia.
Giving up on sleep, she got out of bed and walked barefoot to the window, pulling open a crack in the heavy curtains. Moonlight spilled through the gap, falling across the tops of her feet.
She was wearing a white gauze camisole nightgown, its thin fabric revealing the faint silhouette of her body under the moonlight.
“Feels a bit sexy, hehehe.” As she admired her own body, her inner homebody nature inadvertently reared its head again.
But she quickly shook her head and patted her cheeks, nipping several increasingly dangerous thoughts in the bud.
She looked back up at the full moon outside the window. Something suddenly tugged at her heart, soft and aching.
In her past life, though she had been ordinary, her days had actually been quite pleasant. Both her parents were alive and well, their family harmony intact, and her younger sister had always been close to her.
Though she couldn't say she loved her job, the salary was indeed decent. She had one or two friends she could text anytime, as well as a cozy little apartment of her own, small as it was.
Except for never having been in a romantic relationship, overall, it had truly been a happy life.
Yet someone like her had been swooshed into this world without the slightest warning.
What happened to her original self? Had she died? Her parents and friends were bound to be heartbroken.
At the thought, her nose twinged sharp with sadness, and tears instantly welled up, blurring her vision.
Even though both of her parents had medical insurance, pensions, and no mortgage on the house—meaning their day-to-day living wouldn't be an issue—suddenly losing a daughter was undoubtedly a heavy blow to them.
Fortunately, her younger sister was still around, so at least they wouldn't lose all their support.
When all was said and done, why had she come to this world in the first place?
Besides, if someone transmigrated, shouldn't they usually become the female lead? How had she ended up as Roseliel, whom everyone hated and reviled?
Just as she was immersed in these chaotic thoughts, a faint breeze brushed past her from behind.
That breeze didn't feel like the night wind blowing from outside; it felt more like someone exhaling softly right behind her.
“I have finally found you, Lady Saintess.”
A cold, clear voice suddenly spoke behind her, causing every hair on Roseliel's body to stand on end in an instant.
She spun around abruptly, only to see a figure dressed in white kneeling a short distance behind her.
The white clothes shimmered with a silver radiance in the moonlight, as if covered in a thin layer of frost.
“W-Who are you?!” Roseliel tried her absolute best to suppress the trembling in her voice, but the final syllable still cracked.
“I am an emissary of the great God. You may call me...”
As she spoke, she lowered her hood, revealing a face beneath that took Roseliel's breath away.
Silver-white hair cascaded to the floor like a waterfall, glowing with a soft, gentle sheen under the moon. Her skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and her features were mature and exquisite, as if meticulously sculpted.
Her ears peeked out from her silver-white hair—pointed and thin, with a pale silver-gray trim along their edges.
What left the deepest impression on Roseliel was her eyes: her left eye held an emerald-green iris, brilliant like jade, while her right eye was completely empty, showing only a field of white.
Her entire person looked both beautiful and dangerous.
“Ophelia. You may call me Ophelia.” She continued her introduction, her voice ethereal and melodious.
Roseliel realized immediately: this was an elf!
What was going on? Her brain went a little haywire.
This plot point wasn't in her memories at all. In the game, after Roseliel died, there had been no further plot centered around her.
Although she hadn't completed the game's ending due to work, playing only two chapters, she had never heard of Roseliel having any “Saintess” identity—neither in the gaming community nor in the official chat groups.
Whenever the “Saintess” was mentioned, everyone naturally assumed it meant Lucia; no one had ever heard of another Saintess existing.
“It is only natural that you do not know what is happening right now. Please forgive my presumption; I shall restore the memories of your past and your mission.”
Just as Roseliel was racking her brain over how she should react, Ophelia suddenly spoke up again.
She suddenly stood up, making Roseliel realize just how tall she was.
When she had been half-kneeling earlier, she was nearly as tall as Roseliel; now that she stood at full height, Roseliel found herself barely reaching her chest.
She had to be at least one-ninety! Elves really are tall.
Just as Roseliel was marveling at her height, Ophelia's finger had already touched the space between Roseliel's brows.
Instantly, a surge of overwhelming memories flooded in, past events flashing before Roseliel's eyes like a movie playing...
Or perhaps, that was how it was supposed to go.
But inside Roseliel's head right now, nothing happened at all.
Not a single abnormality.
Ophelia didn't seem to notice anything amiss. She simply went on introducing: “The attack a few days ago was launched by the Python School. Foolish as it was, it created an opportunity for us to gain access to the vessel best suited for you.”
The Python School? Hearing this term made Roseliel's heart tighten.
During the promotional period before the game's official release, the developers had released a lot of worldbuilding lore, which included a general overview of one of the villain factions, the Snake Cult.
The Snake Cult, also known as the Death Cult, had at its core the belief that the world was destined to perish, all living beings would ultimately be destroyed, and the great Snake God would devour everything.
Most of its members were complete lunatics, and everything they did was to bring about this inevitable destruction as early as possible.
According to the settings, the Snake Cult was roughly divided into three schools: the Python School, which advocated using violent confrontation to bring death upon the world; the Viper School, which advocated corrupting humanity through infiltration and assimilation; and the most peculiar of all, the Wandering Snake School, which focused on gathering the souls of all living creatures to create a world of pure souls after the destruction of the world.
Since Ophelia had mentioned the Python School, it meant she was indeed a member of the Snake Cult, albeit belonging to one of the other two schools.
Damn Snake Cult, still lingering around her!
A cold chill ran through Roseliel's heart, accompanied by an indescribable sense of hollow disappointment.
When Ophelia had knelt before her earlier and called her “Saintess,” she really had entertained a moment of wild delusion.
What if she really was some extraordinary entity? What if she truly bore some unknown, grand mission?
In the end, it was just another false alarm.
Roseliel desperately wanted to scream for help, but she had no doubt that the person in front of her possessed the power to kill her before a single sound could escape her lips.
Her only choice was to fake it till she made it!
She took a deep breath and began plotting her next move in her head.
Rate on N.U.
