Vol 4.5 Nicole’s Tale Chapter 4: Birth of The New Saint
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The masked man had dashed across the square, punching her with his gauntlet before she could free Anton and Nicole.

“Anne!” Anton yelled. Amelie ran to her side, crying, only to find out that she had been knocked out cold.

“Coward! Stop relying on your magic items and fight us like a man!”

To Anton’s surprise, the one who yelled was Nicole. She had returned back to her fury-filled state and she was now looking at the masked man without a single hint of fear.

“I’ll have you burned by my light twice over if you would let me have my magic!”

“Y-yeah, that’s right!” Amelie chimed in, glaring at him as well. “I’ll burn you to a crisp too with my fire magic!”

The masked man, naturally, burst into a laugh.

“No way! No way! Why would I ever do that?! I’m not an idiot! I’m not like those hypocritical noble knights who say they fight for honor while turning the other eye when their masters oppress us. I am just a humble citizen, born to the dirty, rotting slums like half of this depraved city!”

He dashed towards Amelie, grabbing her on the head and lifting her up.

“She’s next. And you’ll be here to watch.”

“You—Let me go! Let me go, you scoundrel!”

Amelie’s weak punches and kicks failed to budge the man in the slightest. Still laughing, he dragged her by the scalp, undoing the buns she normally had her long hair in. The stone ground scratched her thighs, to the point that they started to bleed, leaving a trail of red in her wake.

And Anton and Nicole—they could not do a single thing to stop it.

The crowd cheered once more, their bloodlusted eyes demanding violence—payback for the woman they just killed. Blood for blood. And eye for an eye.

Some of the men rushed towards the mage before the masked man even let her go. They stripped her out of her clothes in an instant. The girl screamed, begging for them to stop and let her go.

Anton was begging as well, telling them that they should let their anger out on him instead. 

As for Nicole, she… she was praying. Praying to her Saint and the God Dragon to come to her friend’s rescue.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t yell like Anton, offering her body in exchange for hers.

She was scared. She was awfully, terribly scared. She might have read some illicit books where a man forced a woman to fornicate but the real thing was nothing like her novels. There was no romance that would bloom afterwards. There was no joyful scream from the woman as she felt bliss like she never felt before.

No, all there was—all that ever existed—was pain and despair.

“Look! The princess’ pissing ‘erself!”

The men roared with laughter as Amelie lost control of her bladder out of fear. She was now half-naked, her tormentors already ripped the buttons of her shirt, revealing her sizable chest to them. Her legs failed her and she fell to the ground on her own puddle.

Anton was now wildly moving his body up and down. Like a caterpillar, he slowly made his way towards the mage, still yelling and begging for them to stop.

Amelie’s skirt was the next to go, revealing her fancy black lace panties to the crowd. Such fancy undergarments were a sign of wealth, as most peasants would only have plain whites as their underwear, with some even forgoing them entirely, not having the money needed to buy them. It was a fact that the noble-hating crowd did not miss.

“Ha! Look what we got ‘ere! What fancy garments! Shame she piss’ on it!”

“P-please, I-I’m-I’m-I’m-I’m sorry. Please please please don’t do this!”

They jeered and laughed even harder as she too begged them to stop between her unending, ceaseless tears. She could no longer form coherent sentences, being too overcome from fear.

H-Hugo… my loyal knight in shining armor Hugo… where is he… w-why isn’t he here… he should save me now… save me… come to my rescue… Save me… Save me save me save me save me save me save me…

Hugo, of course, was halfway across the world right now, in the arms of two attractive girls that weren’t her.

He was no longer her knight in shining armor.

He had abandoned her. Abandoned her for that necromancer.

Her black bra was the next to go. Her generous breasts were now fully naked, to the cheers and roars of the lustful men. Whistles filled the air as one of the men grabbed them with his calloused hands from behind, squeezing them relentlessly, pressing their nipples with his thumbs.

“The princess got a whore’s body!” The burly man spoke. “My own wife’s titties are no match for these— Ouch! You BITCH!”

Amelie had bit his hand. And so he retaliated by a thundering slap to her face. It nearly knocked her unconscious.

Disoriented from the blow, a different man on the front pulled her panties down. Her hole was now wide open. As such, the man, who already had his pants off, lifted her legs off the ground, aiming his member to where her puffy vulva was.

Amelie could do nothing. Both men were just too strong for her meager strength to overcome.

“I’LL DO IT!”

“I’LL TAKE HER PLACE! SO PLEASE! DON’T… STOP… LET HER GO!”

The masked man raised his arm. Immediately, the crowd stopped. Both men who were holding Amelie included, letting her fall to the ground.

Nicole had yelled across the field from the top of her lungs.

She made her decision.

She would not let her friend’s virtue be defiled in front of her very eyes.

Even if it meant sacrificing her own.

—--------------

“Watch where you’re going, you stupid commoner!”

Once again, she had tripped on something, causing the stack of papers she was carrying to fall all over the floor. It would take some time for her to reorganize them back the way they were. It would seem she would be late to her next class. Again.

What she tripped on, you might ask? Why, the feet of her classmate, of course. Who had stretched it out intentionally on the hallway so that she would fall over as she carried her papers.

It was back in her younger days, as a student of the Milicis Academy of Silipha. She had been adopted by Miriam Blanchimont, a Grand Priestess of the Milicis Church and the headmistress of the establishment. As such, she was to receive education for her to become a priestess as well. And, if the Saint is willing, perhaps a Grand Priestess like her in the far future.

Unfortunately, the Academy was co-ed with the sons and daughters of nobility who weren't there to become priests. They were there to receive a more general education. And they were the majority.

And just like your average noble, they looked down on commoners like her. Especially one that was an orphan. Even more so if she was a foreigner.

Bullying ensued. And she just had to endure it, as the teachers would never take the side of a commoner like her, lest they would lose their heads in the most literal manner.

As the girl who tripped her left the scene, laughing, another girl came.

“You’re just going to let her go? You really are a doormat, aren’t you?”

She looked up and saw that it was an auburn-haired twin tailed girl standing in front of her with her hands folded under her chest.

Fiora Guinevere Pendragon. The Third Imperial Princess of the Holy Empire of Milicis.

She was an eccentric, to put it mildly. She was not snooty like the other nobles, even though she pretty much was the top dog in the place, status-wise. She never looked down on the commoner students. And, just like now, she would often help her out whenever she got teased like this.

Make no mistake though. She shared their arrogance. Even now, she was looking down on her with a smirk on her face.

“It is my fate to suffer so,” Nicole replied with a smile. “For it won’t do for me to resist, as it would only bring trouble for the school. And my grandmother.”

“Tch, pathetic. What kind of philosophy is that? I can’t accept it. I won’t. Not in a thousand years.”

“You’re different, Your Imperial Highness. You can pave your own fate. Unlike us humble commoners.”

Finished with rearranging her papers, she lifted them all back up. She needed to take them to the teacher’s office. As the only commoner in her entire class, she became pretty much the handyman of all the teachers. If they needed something, it would be on her to answer. LIke a servant.

“Hmph. Clearly, you don’t know anything about nobility.”

“Indeed I don’t. So please, excuse my ignorance, Your Royal Highness.”

She gave a slightly curtsy before resuming her walk.

It would be some time after that where she officially became her confidant.

—------

As Nicole was escorted by her captors, she suddenly remembered a scene from her past.

How long ago has it been, ever since she stepped in the halls of that school? It seemed like it was from a different life entirely.

If only Fiora was here, she would’ve saved her for sure.

But, just like she said, she had to learn to stand up for herself—to not accept the fate the world had given to her.

She couldn’t do that today. Not anymore.

This was indeed her fate. To be violated by these awful, disgusting men so her friends could make their escape.

If it weren’t, then the Heavenly Dragon would have sent His aid to her a long time ago.

She walked by the Masked Man. Giving him a determined glare, she spoke to him.

"Promise me. Promise me you'll let them go. Then I'll accept whatever fate you have in store for me."

"...Very well. You have my word. As long as you remain obedient."

She had no reason to trust him.

But she didn't have any other choice.

Once she was surrounded by the men, they didn’t wait a single more second. One man squeezed her breasts from behind, his awful breath quickly proclaiming that hers were even better than Amelie’s. Was it the same man who groped Amelie? She couldn’t be bothered to look.

His clumsy, hairy hand unbuttoned her cassock from the front, while another fumbled with the zipper on the back. The fabric was just too tough for him to just rip open like he did with Amelie’s shirt. His friends jeered as he was taking “too damn long” according to their foul language. And one man just went ahead and reached up her long skirt, lifting it all the way upwards, revealing her black panties to their sinful eyes. Unlike Amelie’s black pair, however, hers were a lot more simple, with no lace or ruffles or ribbons. Just a tight-fitting, low-rise undergarment that showed off the shape of her labia perfectly.

"Well, what do we 'ave here?" The bearded man crouchex down, her nose inches away from her crotch. "What lewd underwear you 'ave. A holy woman like ye should wear something more modest. These are a pair my wife would wear when she wants to get fucked by me at night." The man laughed.

"You already have a wife…" Nicole whispered, her voice tired and defeated. "Why do you come to me to satiate your lust?"

"Why? Because yer kind needs a good hot dicking in their stuck-up butts! A girl like ye used to be on the church, healing the sick and wounded with 'er miracles. But she'd only do it to folks with deep pockets. Not me, a simple miner. She rejected my darling wife. And now she's buried six deep under. Both of 'em."

Nicole, being the awfully kind girl she was, actually felt pity for her would-be rapist. What that priestess did wasn't right in the slightest.

The man then yanked her panties down, revealing her clean, hairless mound to the world. He whistled, remarking that even his wife's labia was never that clean-shaven.

The burly man behind her finally finished unzipping her cassock. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving her only with her white bra as her last defense. And that didn't last long as he simply pulled the bra off her, breaking it in the process.

Her breasts flew free, bouncing wildly in the process, their volume bigger than Amelie's already large mountains.

The men couldn't contain their lust anymore. Her supremely erotic body was too much for them to take.

The burly man yanked her hair from behind, forcing her to bend over. The bearded man unzipped his pants, aiming his erection at her mouth.

She could hear him—Anton shouting for them to stop. Even hearing his voice broke her heart. If he truly loved her, then seeing this would be the most painful thing imaginable. Your lover, violated by dirty men, with you unable to come to her rescue.

She read a tale with such a scenario once. The man ended up killing himself out of despair.

…No, she can't let him suffer the same fate!

"Sir Anton!" She yelled, tears blurring her vision. "Take Anne and Amelie! Keep them safe!"

"And please, survive! Live! Do it for me, the girl you love!"

"I… I don't know if I love you that way. But I'm happy and honored to be by your side, Sir Anton. I would be happy to be your wife, if fate had allowed it. You're a good man. You deserve to be happy."

"So please, don't let your heart be consumed by despair!"

The men burst into a laugh.

"What is that? A confession? It's the worst confession I've heard in my entire life!' An old man spoke.

"Yer making it harder on him, lass!" Another yelled. "Ye should've held yer tongue!"

"Aaarghhhhh!"

What happened next took Nicole, and everyone else there, by surprise.

Anton, fueled by anger, and her confession of love, ripped through his bonds by sheer force. He stood up, running like the wind to where Nicole was bending over. His eyes were bloodshot and all the men that tried to stop him were thrown aside like nothing. He just broke his limits, and perhaps, with this berserk-fueled rage, he could do something!

…Of course not. The masked man, augmented by his gauntlets, managed to overwhelm him anyway. After punching him on the stomach, he made him kneel. When Anton tried to bite his ankle, he gave him a kick. And when he still tried to move, he kicked him again. And again. And again. Until the adventurer coughed up blood.

The hope that had swelled in her chest… was crushed in a cruel instant.

Why…

Why must you give me hope, o Heavenly Dragon? Only to take it away at the last moment…

I don’t need this false hope… Please… Let me accept it… This horrible fate of mine…

And please… Please let them all go…

She wept.

She wept and wept and wept, to the point that it stopped the men that was about to rape her.

Never had their victim cry like this. She wasn’t crying for herself any longer. She was crying for her lover and her friends. Not for herself.

A pang of guilt enveloped their hearts. Were they… really doing the right thing?

“What’s the matter?” The masked man spoke, still stepping on Anton’s head. “Continue on with the Sabbath. Cleanse that false priestess from her hypocrisy and pretense.”

The voice of their savior brought them out of their foolishness.

That’s right. All these Church folks… They are all evil! Black to the core! They don’t care about small folks like us! Why should we feel pity for them now?!

The burly man reinforced his grip on Nicole’s hairs, yanking her head upwards, telling her to stop her tears or he would choke her to death. “Yer ruining the mood with yer tears,” he whispered to her with his bad breath.

And she did. Not because of him, but just because she ran out of tears to spend.

With lifeless, blank eyes, she looked at the member of the bearded man in front of her. She just had to envelop his length with her mouth. The burly man would take care of the penetration on his own. She just had to endure.

“You…”

Huh?

“Nicole Blanchimont… A name not given by your birth mother…”

She looked around. Who was it? Who was speaking to her?

“An orphan… abandoned by a prostitute… grew into a priestess, devotee of Milicis’ teachings… my teachings…”

It’s… it’s coming from my head! What… what is going on?!

“Yes… You will do… To become Milicis’ next vessel… My next vessel…”

The voice belonged to a woman. Could it be the Heavenly Dragon? But he had always been depicted as male in the scriptures…

“Will you do it? Will you surrender your body… your life… entirely for the sake of this world?”

“For this world is on the brink… And you shall have to save it, if I fail to do it…”

“The Goddess… she cannot be let to awaken, lest the world will be lost forever…

And then, Nicole saw her.

There, amongst the crowd, was a woman that shone with a warm golden glow. She wore a flowing white robe, with the symbol of the Heavenly Dragon proudly sewn into the hem in a golden thread.

Somehow, none of the people around her noticed her.

“Hey, what are ye waiting for?” The bearded man spoke. “Suck on it. Just like my wife would when she’s around.”

She looked back at the woman. She was still here, staring at her.

Her choice was clear.

I’ll do it! I’ll become Milicis’ vessel, whatever that means!

Are you… are you the Heavenly Dragon? You came because of my prayers, didn’t you?! Oh, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you! Please, save my friends! They don’t deserve this!

“...How about you? Do you wish to be saved as well?”

Y-yes! I would be lying if I said I don’t want to!

“...Then, let me borrow your body for a bit.”

What happened next… she had no idea.

For she promptly lost her consciousness as the lady in light vanished.

—------------

A moment after Nicole collapsed to the ground, a surge of light enveloped her body, blinding the man that was gripping her, releasing his grip.

The naked girl quickly stood up, eyeing her surroundings with a coldness that was not there before.

“Y-ye bitch! Did ye just use yer magic?”

She didn’t answer. She just glanced upwards, to the bright and cold artificial moon in the sky. She stretched her hand to it, seemingly wanting to grasp and pull it to the earth.

“Divine Transformation. Sainted Dragon.”

A different, much stronger burst of light enveloped her body. It was powerful enough to send the nearby men flying. The Masked Man, realizing what was going on, tried to punch his way towards her, only for the light to knock him away.

When she finished, Nicole was… different.

She now had two dragon wings on her back, colored white and gold. A dragon tail came out above her behind, fully gold this time. And, on top of her head, a golden halo hovered, never falling down no matter how much she moved around.

“T-transformation magic?” The masked man exclaimed. “That’s impossible! No magic is allowed under my moon!”

Nicole leaped upwards, far up to the sky where the false moon rested.

Her halo glowed. And, aiming it towards the moon, she let the holy energy that she had gathered in it loose.

In the form of a massive golden beam.

The light erased the moon from existence, disintegrating them into grains finer than dust.

The townspeople, and the Masked Man as well, had their jaws falling to the floor.

Nicole turned her attention back to the land, her eyes still as cold as ever.

Her halo began to light up for the second time—holy energy gathering from every inch of her body.

When they realized what was going on, it was already too late.

A rain of light fell from the sky, each beam going after their target like heat-seeking missiles.

There was no outrunning it. The Masked Man tried, running as fast as his special boots could take him, which was about five times the speed of sound. The beam caught after him anyway, disintegrating his body into dust the moment it made contact.

Every single man and woman there was killed in an instant. Everyone. Except for her friends.

A precise and swift execution. It was the judgment the divine Milicis had decreed for them.

Nicole’s eyes landed on Anne, who was still lying down unconscious near the house she crashed into. She descended upon her, and, with a simple wave of her hand, returned her back to the land of the living.

“N-Nicole?” She groggily spoke, her eyes fluttering open. “Is that… is that you?”

Nicole smiled, not saying a single word.

She then made her way to Anton, who was looking at her in awe. After all, he too needed medical assistance, which her warm light quickly granted.

“You… Nicole… you can… transform into a half dragon? Since when? And how can you do it when all magic should be sealed?”

She didn’t answer. Just like with Anne, she merely smiled towards him.

Anton looked at her up and down. Even though the girl he liked was standing naked in front of him, he was so frozen by what he was seeing that it didn’t even register in his mind. Not to mention the glowiness of her skin made her look a lot more otherworldly than her usual self.

Soon, however, said glowiness receded. Her wings, tails, and halo vanished and she fell to the ground, right into his embrace.

—--------

Nicole was floating.

She was floating in a dark abyss. Alone, with nothing else in sight.

And then, light.

A beautiful woman stood in front of her. Like herself, she too didn’t wear any clothes. Yet somehow, it felt completely natural, at least in wherever they were right now. She had flowing blonde hair that went all the way down to her back.

“Well met, my dear Nicole. My name is MIlicis. I was the Saint that accompanied the Legendary Hero a millenia ago.”

“Y-you’re Lady Milicis?” Nicole returned. “But she’s—”

“Dead. Or should be.” A wry smile formed on her lips. “Alas, I am not that privileged to have the honor of being reincarnated into a different person. My soul stays in the Lifestream, preserved to be inserted into all the Saints of the Church this past millenia. The Heavenly Dragon wished it so. And thus, I obeyed.”

“W-what? What do you—”

“Listen to me. I do not have much time.” She approached her, putting her hands on her shoulders. “Seek your old friend, Hugo Greenwood. He is the key for the salvation of this world.”

“H-Hugo?” Her eyes widened. “The salvation of the world? What are you talking—”

“The great archmage, Mira, had returned from the dead. And she has sided with the False Goddess. She would try to unseal her fully before bringing the fight to the Heavenly Dragon Himself. And when she won, this world would be lost forever to her design.”

Naturally, Nicole had no idea whatsoever on what she was saying.

“Seek Hugo Greenwood. He’s on the Demon Continent right now. Stay with him. Protect him with all your might. And he, too, will protect you in return. You and your entourage.”

“There’s no longer any need for you to finish your pilgrimage. For you have a far more important duty instead. A duty I bestow upon you, as the Great Saint herself.”

The woman began to fade and flicker. Realizing her time was up, she retreated, standing back a few feet away from Nicole.

“I’m sorry. For deceiving you. You and everyone else that has ever believed in my teachings.”

“But, rest assured, you will need not suffer my presence for much longer. For my next fight will be my last.”

A bitter smile adorned her face, tears swimming in her eyes.

“I am a sinful woman. I should not be standing in front of a real Saint such as you.”

And then, her dream ended.

—----------

Nicole gasped, almost hitting Anton’s nose as she jolted out of her sleeping position.

She looked around. “Where… where are they? The-the crowd?”

She gazed at Anton who was sitting beside her. He, instead of answering, averted his gaze instead.

“You killed them all Nicole… Didn’t you remember?” Anne spoke. She was now sitting on her other side. Unlike Anton, her gaze remained true. “You turned into some half dragon. You destroyed the fake moon. And then you slaughtered all the people with your rain of light. Turn them to dust.”

Nicole blinked. What did she just say?

“T-that was really cool, Nicole!” Amelie chirped in. The mage was sitting in front of her. She was now back in her clothes, though she had to cover her body since they needed heavy repairs for her to be presentable on them again. “I never knew you could do that! You should’ve done it earlier!”

“Me? Turning into a… half-dragon?”

And then, it hit her.

A rush of information entered her brain.

Not just what he did to the revolutionaries, but other things as well, like the fact that the Heavenly Dragon was actually—

T-that… That can’t be!

That’s… that’s the truth of the Heavenly Dragon? But that’s…

“Aaahhhhhh!”

She covered her face with her hands, sobbing into her palms.

Everything she had believed ever since she was little…

It was all a lie.

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