At the same time, within Leflina's dream—
Leflina, filthy from head to toe and wearing nothing but a tattered linen dress, trudged mechanically through a field of ruins.
Flames spread in all directions. Houses had been reduced to broken walls and shattered foundations.
Blood and corpses covered the ground, alongside refugees so emaciated they looked like wandering demons.
"I'm hungry… so hungry. I've farmed land my entire life—why have I never once eaten my fill? I grow food—grain—so why…?
"O Lord… almighty Lord… great and holy Lord, I beg you…"
Leflina turned toward the voice.
It belonged to a middle-aged man who was nothing but skin and bones.
His flax-colored hair was matted with grease, and his mud-covered hands were thick with calluses. Yet his face looked utterly mismatched with his age.
Deep wrinkles and grooves covered his features, and combined with his skeletal thinness, he resembled an aged corpse more than a living man.
He muttered weakly, but he was already too exhausted. After only a few words, the last of his strength was spent.
Before long, his head tilted to the side, and his hands slowly fell limp.
Even in death, however, his palm still clutched a piece of tree bark engraved with the emblem of the Church—
An Indulgence Token.
It was said that as long as one held enough indulgence tokens and prayed sincerely, their fate would one day be reversed. And even if their fate was not changed in life, they would be guided by the Holy Lord after death to a paradise without hunger or suffering.
But if one died without an indulgence token in hand—
Then, burdened by the immense sins carried from birth, they would fall into hell, enduring the torment of hellfire for thousands of years until their soul was completely burned to ash.
After witnessing the death of the middle-aged man, Leflina saw many more people die.
They were all skeletal like him, and every one of them tightly clutched indulgence tokens purchased from the Church.
Leflina knew the truth.
The Church had never openly acknowledged the existence of indulgence tokens. Those lofty bishops looked down on commoners who couldn't squeeze together even a few copper coins.
Only the priests stationed in rural territories under minor nobles liked to sell such things—items that cost them nothing—to wring the last few coins from the poor, people who couldn't even afford black bread.
At that moment, a loli in a black robe appeared beside Leflina.
She had jet-black hair, and a golden vertical-eye mark on her forehead. Like a ghost, she hovered silently at Leflina's side.
Her skin was a healthy wheat color, her delicate face as exquisite as a porcelain doll. Yet her eyes were completely covered by a layer of lace gauze, tightly wrapped around her head.
Rather than diminishing her beauty, the blindfold only made her more mysterious.
She gently stroked Leflina's cheek, leaned close to her ear, and whispered softly:
"Are you afraid, Leflina? Afraid of the suffering of the common people… afraid of how suddenly life can wither away.
"This world was never like the academy that sheltered you in its ivory tower. Death and famine are the norm here.
"Do you see?"
The loli pointed toward a young woman.
She too was skeletal, but unlike the others, her belly was swollen. She lay prostrate on the ground, hands clasped together in prayer, still gripping an indulgence token.
"She's already dead. And the two children in her womb will soon die as well."
As the black-haired loli gazed at the corpse, a trace of complicated emotion flickered deep within her eyes—but Leflina did not notice it.
"She shouldn't have died. But for a vague, illusory future… for the promise of entering heaven after death, she bought that damned indulgence token—spending the very money that could have kept her alive.
"So she died. And not only her—her two children will die with her.
"Do you think that's right?"
The black-haired loli caressed Leflina's cheek, her voice gentle.
"She likely never understood, even at death, that her so-called 'going to heaven' was nothing but wishful thinking—a hollow dream.
"And she never knew that the copper coins she believed were offered to the gods, ended up in the pockets of the priests instead.
"The money that could have let her cling to life for a few more months might not even be enough for those priests to buy a single night's worth of drinks at a tavern.
"Do you think that's normal?"
The loli floated in front of Leflina.
Beneath the lace binding her eyes, it was as though a sharp gaze was carefully examining her.
After a long moment, she drifted back to Leflina's side.
"The indulgence system has existed for at least several hundred years. Perhaps it was born even earlier in history.
"But this 'benefit'—one that only enriches lower-level clergy—was never written into doctrine. It simply became an unspoken rule.
"And just as no one cares when indulgence tokens first appeared, no one cares how many people have died because of them.
"So tell me—do you still think this is normal?"
Looking at the nightmare-like scene before her, Leflina's sealed memories resurfaced once more.
When she was young, she lived with her family in a small, unremarkable village in the southern part of the Savant Kingdom.
Back then, her family was large—grandparents, two uncles, and two aunts.
Because her grandfather was the village's only doctor, their household wasn't wealthy, but they managed to stay fed.
Then came a year of drought.
Most of the village's grain was forcibly seized by the nobles as tax, and many people were literally starved to death.
It was during that time that a priest from a viscount's territory arrived in the village, selling indulgence tokens to the villagers.
In order to help his family survive the drought, Leflina's grandfather took out the last of their savings and bought one token for every family member.
What he never imagined was that this very decision would plunge the entire family into despair.
The drought lasted far longer than anyone expected.
Her grandfather believed it would pass, like previous years—that they could grit their teeth and endure.
But he never imagined that the drought would last three full years.