Succubus cannot be a saint

Volume 3: The Faith Revolution of the Succubus Saint: Chapter 275: Moise and Isadore

"Lady Saint, are you taking me to see that man named... Moise? Why? Do you want me to convict him?"

Isadore followed Sallele on the way to the prison, chattering away. Her expression was unfazed. Was she completely unaware of any connection between her and Moise, or perhaps she simply refused to consider it? Sallele didn't know. She could only offer a wry smile, a hint of regret.

"What if it is?"

"It must be the death penalty!" Isadore angrily waved the holy hammer sealed with cloth. "I, I've heard about it! This man has done so many bad things, such as usury, smuggling, and... He even took people from the city as slaves and sold them to a cult! This wicked guy deserves to be hanged a hundred times!"

"Yes, hanging her a hundred times is not enough." Salares replied lightly, suddenly stopped, held Isadore's face, and stared at her without blinking.

Caught off guard, Isadore froze in place, her two waving hands stopped in mid-air, and she lay motionless, letting Salle hold her face.

Is this really the right thing for me to do? Letting Isadore go through this all on her own... should I keep it a secret from her? Or...

After a moment of thought, Sharlele finally shook her head slowly.

No, her idea was correct. Isadore had the right to know about things that concerned her, and she had no right to make decisions on her behalf.

More important than anything else, she believed in Isadore. She believed Isadore could get through this difficult situation, that even if she suffered a setback, she would recover and become even stronger. If she had to explain why, she was just that kind of girl.

Besides, I am by her side.

"What's wrong, Lady Saint..." Isadore waved her arms helplessly, trying hard to get these words out of her puffed-up mouth.

"Nothing. I'm sorry, Isadore, I should have had more confidence in you." Salares smiled.

........................

At the door to Moise's cell, Charlene paused again. The candlelight flickered across her face. She didn't know why, but as she stepped from the sunlight into the gloom of the prison, she felt a sudden chill creep up her spine, and a deeply ominous premonition filled her heart.

"Isadore." Salares turned back calmly, placing her hands on the little nun's shoulders. "The person inside may tell you a truth that is beyond your expectations. But even so..."

She paused for a moment, then smiled shyly, "Am I being a little too nagging? I've already said I should have more confidence in you."

Isadore was still somewhat bewildered, but for some reason, an inexplicable fear suddenly gripped her heart. But then, Salleh bent down and gently kissed her on the cheek.

"No matter what happens to you, don't forget that I am with you."

The little nun's emerald eyes suddenly widened, her heart suddenly overwhelmed by the sudden surprise and sweetness. But along with this sweetness, there also grew an inexplicable fear...

Who is that person inside the door? Why would the Saint treat him like this? Could it be...could it be? No, no, no, absolutely not...

At that moment, a flash of fear and despair suddenly flashed through Isadore's mind. This conjecture was like an icy blade tearing through her chest, as if pulling her heart all the way down into the abyss.

She slowly turned her head and looked at the cold metal doorknob. At that moment, she really wanted to grab the Saint Lady and go back to her study, throw herself into her arms and act like a spoiled child, as if nothing had happened.

But for some reason, as if drawn by some kind of destiny, she slowly, obsessively put her hand inside, slowly opening the door. A cold, deep darkness unfolded behind the door, and the stench of decay from within the prison gradually wafted out.

Salares took a step forward, but lowered her head and saw Isadore's sorrowful eyes. The girl slowly shook her head, rejecting her.

She didn't want the Saint Lady to go in with her. If "that thing" was true, she didn't want the Saint Lady to be there.

Sharlele understood what Isadore meant and stopped. She held Isadore's other hand and watched the girl slowly walk into the cell until her hand calmly loosened.

Then the door closed.

........................

The cell was dark, with only a light at the end.

Isadore seemed to be possessed by something heavy and thick, and she walked step by step into the darkness. Her footsteps echoed in the darkness, inexplicably reminding her of the sound of water dripping in the cave.

Finally, she came to the lamp.

Lights illuminated the cell, where thick iron chains bound the man to the wall. He was surrounded by a triple circle of silence, weakness, and restraint—a magic circle used to restrain transcendent beings.

He lowered his head, his face unclear, his golden hair drooping, gleaming in the light with an enchanting, almost ominous light. The moment he saw that golden hair, Isadore felt her heart tighten inexplicably.

The girl trembled, slowly turned around, and reached out to press the switch on the distant magic circle. The light of the silence circle dimmed. She came to the man again, and this time, the sound of her footsteps reached his ears.

The man raised his head. The moment she saw his face, the girl suddenly covered her mouth tightly.

"No, please don't—"

There were countless voices crying out in her heart, even though she had no idea who she was praying to.

"Ahh, so that's how it is—"

But there is also a tiny voice, speaking sadly.

Because, that person - the leader of the Black Wing Conference in Field City, the villain who was full of evil and should be burned to death ten times, actually looked... so similar to himself.

Yes, yes, although my eyes are green and his are blue, although my facial features are softer and his are sharper, although, although his face is filled with an indescribable evil, but...

But Isadore immediately realized this fact with despair.

——He is his own father.

"no, do not want……"

The girl uttered a small whine. She seemed to hear something shattering deep within her heart.

Although she had known long ago that her father was a villain who had violated her mother, and although the Saint had told her more than once that her father's sins had nothing to do with her, and that those dark marks would not be passed down through her bloodline.

But she never imagined that her father, her only blood relative left in the world, would be such a... evil person.

The moment she realized this, a dark feeling still rose in her heart. Angeldel's words echoed in her ears over and over again.

"As a Knight of the Throne, and as the most special person by the Saint's side, you must be completely pure. Neither you nor your family background can have any stain..."

A stain. Yes, a stain. Isadore took two steps back, feeling dizzy. Suddenly, she felt the weight of the Holy Hammer on her back, dragging her down with it, nearly collapsing on her knees.

At that moment, the "darkness" in her heart began to take root.

Volume 3: The Faith Revolution of the Succubus Saint: Chapter 276: Why is it you?

If this is the case, if this is the case, if this person is really his father, then am he... am he no longer qualified to be the chief of the Holy Guards of the Saint Lady, no longer qualified to be the most special person by her side?

“Hehe, hehe…”

In a trance, the face of the Saint and Angeldel's whispers flashed through her mind alternately. The little nun stared at the man in front of her, and suddenly laughed softly without any warning. The laughter was like a ghost, echoing helplessly in the dark prison.

Moise raised his head and finally regained consciousness, looking at the little nun in front of him in astonishment.

"You, you are..." At this moment, he saw Isadore's face clearly and murmured.

The girl's laughter gradually died down, and she slowly lowered her eyes, staring at Moise who was chained to the wall. Her hair was a little messy, and her messy bangs fell down, blocking her green eyes, making it difficult to see her eyes clearly.

"I... want to ask you a question." She said softly, her voice as illusory as a ghost, and her hands hanging by her side moved, silently grasping the handle of the holy hammer behind her.

Without waiting for Moise to answer—and she had no intention of letting him answer—she continued, "Thirteen... no, fourteen years ago, did you go to Moon Spring Town?"

"Yuequan... Fourteen years... Ah..." Moise's mouth opened slightly, and the expression on his handsome, pale but evil face changed rapidly. Looking at the familiar face of the girl in front of him, and the emerald eyes under the golden bangs, he suddenly remembered - fourteen years ago, in the long-forgotten memories, there was indeed a pair of the same green eyes.

Those eyes belonged to a woman with light brown skin.

It was a hot and frenzied night. Alcohol burned his body and numbed his heart. Back then, he was just a small-time thief in the Black Wing Society. And it was on that night that he felt the rage of being insulted by his superiors, the irritation of being ridiculed by his peers, the longing for the luxurious life of the nobility, the resentment and unwillingness of his own poverty...

These dark, turbid emotions boiled and rolled in his narrow heart.Then he saw her, an unknown mountain woman.

"You—you are—"

Being stared at by those strange yet familiar emerald eyes, long-lost memories suddenly returned to Moise's mind. If he hadn't been bound by chains, he would have almost jumped up.

But even so, he screamed out loud, and then he clearly saw the blazing anger burning in those green eyes, just like the fear burning in those same eyes that night fourteen years ago.

"wait wait wait!"

He called out subconsciously, his mind racing even in this situation.

It was the cleverness he had developed from struggling in the dirtiest and most filthy places for fourteen years, the instinctive deception that had almost become a part of his life, and the flame of the will to survive that had never been extinguished in the past fourteen years and had kept him going.

"I, I understand! Y-You are my daughter!"

Shock, confusion, fear and other expressions flashed in his eyes, and finally turned into a kind of dark ecstasy, a kind of greedy eagerness, as if the girl in front of him was the last straw that could save him from suffering.

"Listen, listen to what dad has to say, okay? There must be some misunderstanding here... I, I've been wronged! I've also been deceived by the cultists! I, I have no choice!"

He forced a flattering smile on his face, and laughed a few times between gasps. Seeing the girl's expression change from gloomy to bright, he felt something in his heart and said quickly: "Dad knows, Dad knows... You are still thinking about that incident fourteen years ago... I don't know what those black-skinned people - no! I, I mean the mountain folks... told you, but the truth is not what you think..."

Moise took a few breaths, as if not wanting to give Isadore any time to think carefully. "Your mother and I, we, we truly love each other and are truly together! That night, we fell in love at first sight. Your mother begged me to stay in Moon Spring Town, but, but... I still have a job in Field and a big career! What's more, your mother's people won't allow me to stay... So, so I can only leave without saying goodbye. This is also for her..."

The moment she heard these words, Isadore was stunned.

After a brief moment of disbelief, there was anger.

In the few minutes she'd seen Moise, she'd imagined all sorts of reactions. Would he deny being her daughter? Would he confess his sins and plead for mercy? Or would he simply deny it all?

But she never imagined that what he chose was - cheating.

And he deceived her with such a clumsy lie. He even went so far as to distort the facts about him and his mother, blaspheming her mother who had long been dead and whom she had never even met.

Isadore's hands began to tremble. If he confessed his sins, repented, and begged for mercy, then she might choose to let the Saint grant him a quick, painless death.

But why, why, even at this moment, do you still choose to deceive? Don't you have any other choice besides deceiving?

Do I really have your blood in me? The blood of a vile villain like you?

Hidden by her bangs, her emerald eyes fixed intently on the man before her. Isadore suddenly felt a surge of shame, her cheeks burning with pain. She actually bore the blood of such a man.

Somehow, every time at this time, Angeldel's voice would echo in her heart.

To become the Saint's Divine Throne Knight, you must not have any stain. Stain, ah, stain! Wasn't it him who stained me? Wasn't it his lies that stained me?

Not to mention that she was related to him by blood, even the fact that she and this despicable bastard were the same human being was enough to make her feel extremely angry and painful!

At this moment, Moise saw that Isadore was silent, but he thought that she was moved by him.

Haha, haha... That mountain woman must have died a long time ago. Yeah, how could those black-skinned beasts tolerate the woman they violated being alive, hahaha... That's why this little girl was deceived.

He thought wildly and laughed silently. His mind was already in chaos due to ecstasy, but even at this moment, he still instinctively wanted to weave a lie to escape death.

"Haha, haha..." He laughed breathlessly, his words a little incoherent, his eyes flashing with anxiety, "So, my dear daughter, don't blame Dad, okay? Everything Dad did in Field was to bring you and your daughter back home one day! It's just that Dad has been framed..."

"You, you are a subordinate of that Saint, right? Can you... help Dad tell that Saint the truth? This, this is all a complete misunderstanding... It's all a misunderstanding!"

"It's all... a misunderstanding?" Isadore repeated softly between his breaths, and Moise's eyes lit up, as if he had grabbed a life-saving straw, and he struggled violently, trying to crawl closer to her, his eyeballs bulging out with eagerness.

"Yes! It's all a misunderstanding! Dad... Dad, I'm really a serious businessman!" As if thinking that the girl's tone had softened a little, Moise nodded desperately.

The girl slowly raised her head, her once rosy face completely drained of color. In that instant, the childishness on her face seemed to have completely vanished, leaving only a cold, ash-like expression.

She had understood long ago that the world was not as simple and pure as she had thought. Many bad things that she thought would never happen would actually happen, and they had already happened irreversibly.

But now she suddenly realized that she hadn't seen the world clearly at all. She thought that after that person poured endless light and warmth into her body, warming her whole body and expanding joyfully like a little sun, she had the courage to illuminate any darkness.

But... no. It's not like that.

That light, that warmth, has not disappeared. They are still burning in her heart, giving her courage and strength.

But at this moment, looking at this man, an even more intense flame suddenly erupted from the deepest part of her heart. It burned and burned, covering up the warm and tenacious power, like a mad beast, almost tearing her heart apart.

Was that anger? No, it was completely different from the anger she felt towards the Archbishop and the cultists. It was something even more piercing, burning her bones, darkening her eyes, melting her whole being into the boundless darkness.

That was the first time in fourteen years that she tasted the poisonous juice called "hatred" that flowed from her broken heart.

Every lie this man told in front of her, every flattering look he showed, and every humble laugh he uttered became fuel for her hatred, burning her flesh and bones.

Mother. Mountain people. Kingdom people. Cultists. Innocent citizens sold as sacrifices.

She remained silent, silent, watching the man perform a clumsy clown show in front of her, but dark thoughts swirled in her mind, and then merged into the pool of poison that was accumulating more and more and deeper in her heart.

When this pool of poison flooded her heart and spread to her throat, allowing her to feel the bitter taste with the tip of her tongue, she suddenly realized that she was no longer a child.

It was this poisonous juice of hatred that made her grow up overnight. It was these dark thoughts that made her break away from the soil of innocence.

He was his stain. His only stain. He was the obstacle that stood in his way of becoming the Saint's most special person. He was something he had to overcome, something he had to erase.

Just thinking that half of his blood was on her body made her go crazy with hatred, and she wished she could drain all her blood to wipe out this stain.

He would atone for his sins, a thousandfold. He would die, no, he would suffer. He would suffer all the pain in the world and then die.

Smash him. Chop him up. Impale him. Crush him with a wheel. Skewer him with a spear. Burn his flesh with fire. Cut off his head with a guillotine.

—Erase this stain.

Her lips moved, and then, as if possessed by some demon called hatred, she uttered something like a dream.

—Erase this stain.

"Then... let me ask you, what is my mother's name?"

—Erase this stain.