Chapter 8: The Breaking of the Maiden's Will
The dungeons beneath the Oakhaven Cathedral were no longer damp or smelling of rot. Cyan had reshaped them with his mana, turning the cold stone into smooth, obsidian halls that pulsed with a rhythmic, purple light.
In the deepest chamber, Clara, the Holy Maiden, was suspended by chains of dark energy. Her white battle-robes were torn, and her golden spear lay shattered in the corner—a symbol of her broken power.
Cyan entered the room slowly. Behind him, Elara drifted like a silent shadow, her eyes fixed on the captive with a mixture of jealousy and amusement.
"Leave us," Cyan commanded. Elara bowed and vanished into the darkness.
Cyan stepped into the circle of light where Clara hung. Her head was bowed, her silver hair hiding her face. As he approached, she shivered, the "Brand of the Sovereign" on her neck glowing faintly.
"Still praying, Clara?" Cyan's voice was a low, dangerous vibration. "I wonder... which god do you think is listening to you in the heart of my domain?"
Clara looked up. Her eyes were red from weeping, but a spark of defiance still flickered in them. "The Light... the Light is everywhere, Cyan. You can chain my body, but you cannot touch the purity of my soul."
"Purity?" Cyan laughed, stepping so close she could feel the cold heat of his aura. "Let's see how 'pure' your world really is."
[Skill Activated: Eyes of Lust & Ruin - Deep Scan.]
Cyan's violet eye flared. Suddenly, Clara felt as if her brain was being peeled open. She tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat as images—not hers, but his—began to flood her mind.
She saw the "Holy" Saintess, Servina, in a private chamber, laughing as she watched a group of commoners being sacrificed to power a forbidden Light-artifact. She saw the "Hero" Victor, Cyan's brother, kicking a starving child while wearing his gilded crown.
"No... these are lies! Illusions!" Clara cried out, her body thrashing against the chains.
"Are they?" Cyan whispered, his hand gently cupping her face. "You were there, Clara. Remember three years ago? The 'plague' in the Southern Village? You were told it was a demonic curse. But look again."
Through Cyan's eyes, Clara saw the truth. It wasn't a curse. It was an experiment conducted by the High Priests to test the limits of Holy Mana. They had poisoned the wells themselves.
Clara's breathing became erratic. Her "Purity Level" began to plummet on the system's screen.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Target: Clara.
Purity: 95% -> 60% -> 45%.
Mental State: Collapsing.
"They used you, Clara," Cyan continued, his thumb tracing the Brand on her neck. "They used your kindness to mask their filth. You were the 'face' of a lie. Tell me... how does it feel to know that every prayer you offered was fueled by the blood of the innocent?"
"Stop... please... stop..." Clara sobbed, her spirit breaking under the weight of the revelation.
Cyan leaned in, his lips inches from hers. "You don't need their Light anymore. Their Light is a cage. My Darkness... my Darkness is the only truth that will never betray you."
He released the chains. Clara fell forward, but Cyan caught her, holding her fragile body against his chest. She didn't fight him. Instead, she clutched at his robes, weeping into his shoulder as her world crumbled.
[Ding!]
[Corruption Stage 1: Completed.]
[Target Clara has lost faith in the Light.]
[New Potential: Dark Apostle.]
"The coronation is tomorrow," Cyan said, looking over her shoulder at the dark walls. "The Saintess will be expecting her 'Maiden' to return. And you will return, Clara. But not as her disciple."
Clara looked up at him, her eyes now clouded with a dark, violet tint. The girl who had once worshipped the Sun was now looking at the Sovereign of Sin with a terrifying level of devotion.
"I am... yours, my King," she whispered, her voice devoid of its former holiness. "Show me how to make them pay for the lies."
[Ding!]
[Level Up: Level 15 -> Level 18!]
[Sin Points Gained: +15,000.]
[Harem Member Added: Clara (The Fallen Maiden).]
Cyan smirked. His army was growing. His "Goddesses" were falling one by one. And the ultimate prize—the Saintess herself—was finally within reach.
"Prepare yourself," Cyan said, turning toward the door where Isabella and Elara waited. "Tomorrow, we don't just crash a coronation. We start an Era."