They went to the temple, but did not believe in the spirits, seeing them as tools for profit, and so the miasma was created.
Looking around the fields, Marianne nodded her head.
“It’s sprouting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, they are, but they are few and not vigorous.
If we don’t do something, they will wither soon.”
That’s too much trouble.”
The villagers’ faces become a little puzzled by her slovenly attitude, but Marianne doesn’t notice.
(If I can revive this field, I can make them recognize my power.
Then I can go back to the temple.
Sylphia will still be there, but if I marry Antonio-sama and I become a queen then—)
Marianne held up her hand, stifling a crooked smile that threatened to leak out.
She said the words of a prayer she had remembered from last night.
“O protectors, my guides, my spirits, I humbly beg you to fulfill my request.
I am your beloved daughter.
Fulfill the oath you swore to me, and give me strength…?!”
With a thud, Marianne’s heart leapt.
Something boiled up inside her.
A power that fills her internal organs, fills her blood vessels, makes her bones creak….
(Is this the power of the spirit?!)
Unable to bear it any longer, tears spilled from Marianne’s eyes.
“Ah… Aaaaah! Ouch, ouch! Somebody help me!!!”
“Saint-sama, what’s wrong?!”
(I haven’t heard of this! Sylphia’s whole body glowed and the wind blew! Is that a myth too?! Or is it…)”
Marianne’s back arched in agony as she let out a throat-splitting scream.
A gurgling stream of miasma leaks from her wide-open mouth.
The villagers can’t see it, but a terrible shiver surrounds them.
“Hey! Get someone to the Capital—send someone to the temple! The Saint is suffering!
“What the hell is going on?! Saint-sama! Are you all right!?”
The miasma flooded out of Marianne’s mouth, but it is trying to get back to her.
It also clung to her limbs, trying to get back into her body through her skin.
Marianne’s skin began to show scorch marks as her entire body writhed in pain.
“What the … fuge did we invite into our village?!”
“Don’t tell me this guy is a fake Saint? This is the wrath of the spirits!”
“But she said she could help us! She’s in pain, we have to do something…”
A young man reaches out to touch Marianne, but as soon as his hand touches her, he feels a searing pain.
The young man’s hand is also covered in scorch marks.
“!! Don’t touch her, it’s a curse!”
“Noooo! Help me, help me!”
The villagers gradually moved away from Marilianne and stood and watched this horrific scene.
Soon the miasma began to overflow from Marianne’s body, so much so that they could see it.
“Aah… This is the end, this village…”
It was when the old man hung his head.
A girl appeared with a piercing scream.
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