Chapter 13: Guests

As Savine collected the items she had gathered for the meeting Vevian approached her. Seeing that there was no one around, he whispered.

"Rolan's dead."

"Who's dead?"

"Rolan Baroda."

"Who's that?"

Savine looked genuinely confused.

"It's the Magus that came to you first."

After Rolan, a couple of other Magi came to try to recruit Savine. To avoid any repeat of the previous incident, Vevian handled everything by himself. It wasn't that complicated.

Both of their attempts were thwarted due to them not having drafting papers and Vevian's family being influential enough, so a Magus couldn't just do whatever they wanted. Of course, there needed to be some gifts and whatnot from Vevian's side, so the Magi didn't feel bad.

"Ah, the Initiate," Savine nodded. Then, pondering for a bit, she asked. "What about it?"

The starving, skinny girl was much plumper these days, but it was still hard to watch as someone so obviously from the lowrungs act like a royal and feel completely convincing.

But Vevian knew he needed no convincing. When that… God's Oracle appeared and stopped Savine, he thoroughly understood that he was dealing with the divine.

The pressure and presence that Savine exuded at that moment was not explainable through mortal means. How she hovered in the air, shining brighter than the sun, before falling on the ground with silky white hair…

"I just thought I should mention it to you."

Savine stared at him for a bit before nodding.

"Alright," she said. "Well… Finally, you can rest peacefully, I suppose. Were there any problems with the Magi that came afterwards?"

"None. Since there are no battles across the Magicracy, even if they wanted to, they couldn't produce the necessary documents."

"I see."

"By the way, what was that about? About you not being able to meet the people here more often."

'Are you finally leaving?' Vevian wanted to ask.

"Ah. That. Hmm. I'm expecting some guests soon."

"Guests? Who?"

Since Savine was calling them guests, Vevian needed to take them quite seriously.

"People from the Sovereignty."

Vevian was elated. She really was leaving. But he couldn't quite show it on the outside.

"Friends?"

"Hopefully friends. But you tend to realize things don't really go according to your wishes."

Vevian nodded, but he was still expectant.

'Though, who might these guests be?'

He immediately thought of baron Yeltsin. He was the only noble among Savine's followers, and he happened to be from the Sovereignty. Vevian didn't know why the man came to the Magicracy and why he would mingle with the lowrung of all people, but the baron was quite open about his origins.

He boasted endlessly about his noble background and talked without end about the great food and wine in the Sovereignty.

But hearing about friends from the Sovereignty, Vevian couldn't help but wonder if the baron was connected.

"Don't worry too much," Savine spoke. "Whatever I do with them will have nothing to do with you. And if things go well, I'll probably be gone for the Sovereignty. Of course, we'll keep in touch. I do hope you can send Vega to me as soon as possible."

Just like how he managed to hide his joy, he also managed to hide his grimace.

Savine seemed to realize that, and she smiled gently.

"Don't look so wronged. I'm quite spoiling towards the people on my own side."

Savine threw her items to Vevian and walked towards home. The journey was silent.

***

The guests that Savine expected came soon afterwards.

One day, when she was busy teaching some of the illiterate children, two peculiar people arrived. They were both robed and hooded. One had a large, round stature and the other was much, much thinner. They both wore a mask.

The mask seemed to have voice changing qualities, as a deep, unnatural voice asked Savine for a private meeting, accenting that it was extremely important.

Savine had no reason to refuse, and directed them to a private chamber. Then, the two gloriously took off their robes, revealing their identities. One wore a bright white robe decorated lavishly with gold and silver, while the other wore a black cossack with a white neck, just like Savine's own clothing.

However, Savine was more focused on the two's physical appearances.

She had seen many things in her life, but it was still hard for her to not be shocked when her eyes found probably the most unfitting pair of man and women she had seen in her life.

It truly was a Beauty and the Beast, but the meaning of the word 'Beast' could never be further from its positive connotations. It was more accurate to name the two in front of Savine 'the Diva and the Degenerate'.

The woman was probably the most beautiful human Savine saw in her life. She visited many worlds and saw many beauties, but someone so perfect had never graced her eyes before.

A tall, proud body and an impeccable, pearl-like complexion. Ears that made high-elves jealous of humans, a nose of fairies, and onyx-black eyes that could suck you in and forever muddle you in them.

It was a rare thought, but Savine was actually feeling a bit of hatred against the loose, dark robes that hid the rest of her figure.

But right next to her was a pig. He didn't look broad and somewhat plumpy, like the better-looking fat people. He instead looked like he was melting. Savine didn't think she would see the abominations that littered more modern worlds in a place that still didn't have sewage systems, but her innocent expectations were clearly wrong.

'Ah, but the smell… Ugh. I can understand sweat, but why does he also smell of piss?'

Savine needed to kill her own senses a bit, so she didn't need to suffer so much.

When the two came close enough, Savine nodded and asked.

"And who might you be?"

The man frowned, staring at Savine with a look of undisguised contempt.

"That's what I want to ask!" he said erratically. "Who are you to declare yourself God's Chosen and hold these sermons and masses as you please? Who authorized your actions?!"

Savine held a piece of paper in front of her to block the fat man's spit, but she managed to remain clean. Sighing, she spoke one word.

"God."

"God?"

"Yes. God has authorized my actions and my title. God's Chosen," Savine smiled. "But I'm sure you've heard of me before. Why else would you come here?"

The two stared at her, perhaps not expecting the answer.

"Enough about me. Who are you two?"

Before the man could speak, the woman spoke.

"We are from the Gretenberg Sovereignty. We are from the Fest Duchy's Holy Temple. This esteemed gentleman is the temple's Bishop, Sylvester Fest, and I'm its humble High Priest, Eliseline Fest. We've heard rumors of a 'God's Chosen' appearing inside the Magicracy, a widely atheistic country, and decided to check the rumor's legitimacy ourselves."

Savine smiled. 'Esteemed gentleman, huh?'

"Is that so?" she smiled. "Tell me, what does your temple's doctrine sound like?"

"Doctrine?"

"Yes. What must you - members of the Holy Temple - do, in order to have been pious and faithful? Must you abstain from killing and eating meat? Do you strive to tell only truths and keep your bodies clean? Tell me?"

The man, Sylvester, frowned deeply.

"You don't even know that and you dare call yourself God's Chosen?"

"Lord Bishop, please."

"Don't dare take this lightly, Elise!"

The High Priest nodded and spoke.

"Our most important goal is, naturally, to supply the land with blessings, to keep the necessary magic tools working, and to send mana to the North's frontier, so the Great Wall stands strong. Other than that, there are a few things that distinguish us from the wayward sheep.

"Priests of the Holy Temple are abstained from all kinds of killing, sexual procreating, and eating meat. Of course, as servants of the gods, we must always strive to better ourselves to reach enlightenment. As such, we strive to speak only truths, help the needy and serve mother nature to our utmost capabilities."

Savine sneered.

"Ah, then you must not be the members of the Holy Church," she said, smiling. "It's a serious crime, you know? Forgery of an identification, one of a Holy Bishop, at that. Do yourselves a favor and drop your sinful acts. It's not too late to follow God's teachings. In fact, I hold sermons and masses here every week. Do come by when you feel like becoming more enlightened."

"You little rat! Do you know who you're talking to?! I'm the High Bishop in the Gretenberg Sovereignty and the blood sibling of the current Duke Fest! Do you think yourself so high and mighty, you can escape the Sovereignty's wrath?"

Savine waved at him nonchalantly.

"Blood of nobility, sure, why not? But a Bishop? I don't think so. Your breath stinks of rotten meat and your body reeks of female piss – perhaps because you like to fancy it as their cum. And today, have you come to kill me so you can achieve your own little Unholy Trinity? I'd rather believe a mute, impotent beggar to be the Bishop instead of you."