Conquest Sea, Summer Tree Archipelago Main Island.
At dawn, in Summer Tree’s council hall, the elders from the various islands and other key figures had gathered to discuss a crucial decision that would determine the future of Summer Tree. After intense debate, they had finally reached a consensus.
“Very well, since that’s the case, we can now make it official. Everyone here acknowledges the will of the ancestors—to use these methods to conceal our worship of the Goddess. We must subtly guide the people’s habits over time, and this will take a long process to fully implement.
“Fortunately, Radiance doesn’t expect converts to fully abandon their former beliefs immediately. Once we announce our conversion, they will send missionaries to educate us over an extended period. It’s during this phase of indoctrination that we’ll carry out our real work. Though difficult, the ancestors have granted us sufficiently detailed instructions. I will assign each of you your respective responsibilities afterward.”
Seated at the head of the council chamber, Chief Priest Anman spoke seriously to the assembled leaders. After hearing his words, the elders exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. There was no longer any dissent.
The original purpose of kidnapping the pilgrims had been to preserve their faith in the Goddess of Abundance. The people of Summer Tree knew this act was extremely dangerous—it would almost certainly provoke Radiance’s wrath and lead to the destruction of their entire island. But against the overwhelming power of Radiance, they had no better leverage.
Now that Anman had offered an alternative—a way to reconcile with the Church without truly abandoning their faith—why wouldn’t they take it? Especially since it was claimed to be divine revelation, tailored precisely for their situation, it placed no burden on them at all.
With almost no further objections in the room, Anman nodded slightly. Just as he was about to speak again, a voice from the floor suddenly interrupted. It came from one of the elders.
“Chief Priest Anman, there’s something I’d like to ask. The ancestors’ revealed method of false conversion is indeed brilliant—it allows us to preserve our faith in secret during Radiance’s indoctrination phase without them realizing. But all of that is dependent on Radiance actually accepting our conversion in the first place.”
“We only just kidnapped their people, and now we suddenly claim to want to convert? Isn’t that shift far too drastic? Radiance isn’t likely to miss that. They might suspect it’s a trap. If they don’t trust our intentions, they may not even let us convert.”The elder, named Dodo, voiced his concerns in a solemn tone. Anman, still composed, responded confidently.
“Elder Dodo raises a valid point. A sudden change in our attitude would arouse Radiance’s suspicion and make our hidden faith operation much harder. That’s why our change of heart needs a reason—a pretext that explains why we suddenly wish to convert. Without a reason, it would indeed seem suspicious.”
Hearing this, Dodo narrowed his eyes.
“So... Chief Priest Anman, it sounds like you already have a reason in mind? What exactly are we going to use to justify this sudden conversion?”
With a mysterious smile, Anman turned his gaze toward Bahoda, who sat not far away. Slowly, he spoke.
“Bahoda, if I’m not mistaken… among the three ships you captured, there was a nun from Radiance named Vania, correct? You said that when you brought the ships back, you enlisted her healing powers to treat the wounded sailors—and she later even volunteered to heal your own men?”
“Yes,” Bahoda replied earnestly.
“At first, we just wanted to keep more of the Church’s crew alive as bargaining chips, so we let that nun treat the wounded. But unexpectedly, she insisted on treating our men too—said she couldn’t ignore suffering, even if it was the enemy’s.”
“At first, I was suspicious, but after confirming that her treatment was genuine, we let her continue. She healed nearly every one of us. Nothing strange happened. She really just seemed to be… acting out of pure compassion. I’ve never seen that kind of kindness from someone in Radiance before.”
Anman stroked his beard in satisfaction. Then he turned back to the others and addressed the council again.
“It seems that even within Radiance, there are those who show mercy to all, regardless of allegiance. A nun like that, who risked herself to heal the very enemies who attacked her people—why wouldn’t we be moved by such compassion?”
“A nun who serves the Holy Mother of Radiance, extending unconditional love and saving lives without discrimination… it’s only natural that such love, so much like that of our own Goddess, would touch our hearts. We could easily mistake her for a messenger of the Goddess herself. Through her, we saw divine light. Through her, we were guided toward a new path.”
“Heh… and I’ve studied Radiance before—they absolutely love stories of saints spreading faith through selfless acts.”
With a chuckle, Anman spoke to the assembly. Hearing his reasoning, the elders fell silent. They exchanged glances—and quickly grasped Anman’s meaning.
Yes. They needed a reason for their sudden change of heart. And what better reason than being swayed by the noble act of a saintly figure? They could claim that they weren’t surrendering—they were converted through compassion and wisdom. And who better to play that role than the nun who had already proven herself?
“Exactly,” someone added.
“We can use that nun to build the narrative. Have her treat more of the sick and wounded in town, make it look like she brought the Holy Mother’s gospel to Summer Tree. Invite her to debate the faith, let her ‘win’ and think she inspired us. Let Radiance believe it was her teaching that convinced us to convert!”
Clapping his hands lightly, Elder Dodo spoke with a look of realization. As his voice echoed through the hall, the atmosphere quickly reignited with animated discussion. The gathered leaders began to excitedly debate how best to frame Sister Vania as a noble teacher who had “enlightened” Summer Tree—using her as a smokescreen to cover their true plan of faith concealment. Anman, meanwhile, simply smiled, watching the various proposals unfold.
After another round of deliberation, they unanimously agreed to use the selfless nun as their shield—a fabricated reason for their supposed “conversion.” They immediately resolved to summon her to the scene, guide her into performing healing and preaching within Summer Tree, and then stage a public debate on faith where they would deliberately lose. That way, they’d have a convincing narrative for their shift toward Radiance.
“Good. Since everyone is in agreement, Bahoda, please go and bring that nun Vania here. Let her wait outside for now—we’ll bring her in once we’ve prepared everything.”
Anman gave the order calmly, and Bahoda nodded before leaving the council hall. The rest remained inside, continuing to discuss how to best “manipulate” Sister Vania. Nearly everyone participated—except for one man, sitting silently in the corner: Obiye.
“Damn… Something’s wrong. Why did that old fox Anman suddenly receive some so-called revelation from the ancestors…? If Summer Tree doesn’t go to war with the Church, if the Church doesn’t send troops to forcibly purify them, then all our efforts will be for nothing!”
Obiye’s brow was furrowed deep in thought. As a secret believer of the Abyssal Church, his mission was to ensure that conflict between Summer Tree and the Church was inevitable—his goal was to guarantee that Summer Tree would be brutally purged.
It was he who had received the intelligence about the poorly guarded pilgrim fleet from the Abyssal Church, and he had used it to incite Summer Tree into ambushing and capturing the ships. All he had to do then was wait: once Radiance launched its rescue operation and the warships arrived, he would slip away before the island was destroyed.
But if Summer Tree released the hostages and declared conversion now, the plan would fall apart. He had never anticipated such a shift.
“Anman’s ‘revelation’ is definitely suspicious. No one just wakes up one night and suddenly understands all these intricate strategies! Something must have happened behind the scenes to make things spiral like this. Damn it… if things keep going this way, Summer Tree won’t fall anytime soon. Even if I try to report them to the Church later, it’ll take time and energy—and Anman’s plan even accounts for that. If I don’t carefully design the report, it won’t even succeed…”
Anxiety gnawed at Obiye’s gut. His mission had already started to unravel, and he knew the window of opportunity was closing fast. Just then, Anman turned toward him from the head of the hall and spoke.
“Obiye, I have a task for you.”
“…Yes, Chief Priest Anman, what is it?”
Obiye blinked, caught off guard. He turned to face Anman, who extended his walking staff to him.
“Since we’ve now decided to falsely convert to Radiance, we can’t keep those pilgrims locked up like prisoners anymore. Take my staff and go to the detention sites. Instruct the warriors to release the Radiance pilgrims and relocate them to Falling Bird Grove. Make sure they’re properly settled. Be quick about it.”
Obiye froze for a brief moment but then took the staff and replied calmly, “Yes, Chief Priest. I’ll return swiftly.”
He stood and exited the council hall, descending the wooden stairs. As he reached the clearing in front of the building, he considered returning home first—to use the Sensory Flesh Altar and report the situation to White Tear Island. But his home was on another island, and the journey would take too long. If he delayed Anman’s orders, he might draw suspicion. He decided against it.
As he walked across the clearing, brows still tightly furrowed, he suddenly noticed a figure standing in the center.
It was a young nun from Radiance—no older than fifteen or sixteen—clad in a rare white habit. Her platinum hair shimmered softly under the morning light. Her face was calm and graceful. Standing quietly in his path, Obiye immediately recognized her: Vania, the nun they were planning to use as the symbol of their “conversion.” She was clearly waiting to be called into the council.
Obiye, weighed down by anxiety, didn’t intend to engage with her. He simply tightened his grip on the staff and strode past her, heading toward the detention sites. But just as he was about to pass her, the white-clad nun spoke softly—in Ivengardian, a language not often used by the Summer Tree folk.
“You must be Obiye… the one chosen to extend the will of the Lord within Summer Tree…”
Startled, Obiye halted and looked toward her. In a hushed tone, he responded in Ivengardian:
“How do you know my name? And don’t bother—I don’t believe in your Three Saints, nun.”
“Of course, Obiye. Naturally, you are not loyal to the Three Saints… but to the Lord. My Lord is your Lord. They are neither one of the Saints, nor the Goddess of Abundance…”
Her whispered words clung to his ears like smoke, and Obiye shuddered.
His eyes widened as he turned to face the girl beside him.
“You’re…”
“We are both faithful servants of the Lord. We are extensions of Their will. The warriors of Summer Tree are watching us now—there’s no time for explanations. The entire plan has gone off course. We must act immediately to salvage it.”
With a silent expression, the nun murmured as she looked at Obiye. Hearing her words, Obiye’s face twisted into a complicated look. He opened his mouth slightly, then forced himself to calm down before speaking in a serious tone.
"...What do we need to do now?"
Suppressing his emotions, Obiye spoke with tension in his voice. He had never imagined that the supposedly noble nun spoken of by Anman and Bahoda was, like him, a bloodstained worshipper.
"I’ve already overheard everything discussed in the council room through certain mystical means," the nun said coldly.
"Now Summer Tree seeks to use a fabricated conversion to mask its conflict with Radiance. We cannot allow such a thing to happen… The fall of Summer Tree cannot be delayed. If they want to cover up and soften the conflict, then we will tear it open and intensify it."
Obiye froze for a second after hearing that, then asked, “You mean… escalate the conflict?”
“Yes,” the nun said.
“So long as the contradiction becomes irreconcilable, no matter how much Summer Tree tries to show repentance, the Church will refuse to acknowledge them. And the means to inflame the conflict... is in your hands.”
As she whispered, Obiye glanced at the staff in his hand, and a look of realization flashed across his face.
“You mean… I can use the authority Anman gave me to issue a fake order… I could… tell the guards to execute the hostages on the spot?”
“Exactly. Those guards are always waiting for a command to kill, aren’t they? One sentence—that’s all it takes. For them, such a command is nothing unusual…”
“As long as enough hostages die, the rift between Radiance and Summer Tree will become absolutely irreparable. It would force immediate war. No other plan is as direct, as irreversible, or as immune to delay as this one.”
The nun continued coldly. As he listened, Obiye looked down at the staff in his hand, and his breathing grew quicker.
“But after this, I’ll be in danger… Anman will come after me…”
“But if you flee fast enough, what can they really do to stop you?”
“…True. The sea is my real home. The true god of the sea, the mighty Abyssal Serpent, protects me. Those Summer Tree fools who worship a false sea god—they’ll never catch me.”
Obiye’s eyes gleamed with fanatic fervor. The nun glanced at him, then spoke again.
“There’s no time. If we keep talking, we’ll draw suspicion… May the Blood Chalice bless us. May we meet again at some future feast and share in the banquet.”
With a wicked smile, the nun made a simple gesture and traced an inverted triangle over her chest. Seeing this series of movements, Obiye immediately recognized it—it was a prayer gesture to the Mother of Chalice.
“A selfless nun of Radiance who preaches the compassion of the Holy Mother… and she’s actually a devotee of the Mother of Chalice? How many corpses hide beneath that ‘radiance’? How much flesh and blood has passed through her lips?”
“Blasphemous… but I like it.”
Wearing a twisted smile, Obiye returned the gesture, then turned and walked off with the staff. Not long after, he disappeared into the distant woods.
Back near the council hall, Sister Vania—the white-clad nun—watched his silhouette vanish into the trees. Then she turned to look at the small side door of the hall. As she watched, the door slowly opened, and a figure stepped out: the grim-faced Bountiful Tree Priest, Anman.
“Lord Anman,” she said, her voice calm but grave, “now… do you believe me? Within Summer Tree, there are those who harbor ulterior motives… those sowing discord.”