Nastrand Grand Cathedral

A dark storeroom stacked with food supplies.

The door opened, and a young Holy Sister—just past her girlishness—came rushing in.

She lay down on the piled sacks of potatoes and gazed at the open door with gleaming eyes, her whole body filled with heated ecstasy and anticipation.

“Haa, haa.”

Following her came Joachim, now carrying the full dignity of a proper priest.

His face was drenched in sweat, and his eyes gleamed yellow as he looked at the Holy Sister.

“Ch–Christine!”

Joachim threw himself onto Christine as if collapsing and ravaged the Holy Sister’s lips roughly.

“Ahh… J–Joachim… haa!!!”

Christine moaned as she stroked Joachim’s back, then tore the rosary and cross from her white neck as if it were cumbersome and threw it aside, cupping Joachim’s face.

“More, kiss me more!!!”

“Haa, haa…”

Their tongues entwined softly.

“Haaa… ahhk!”

“Christine! If you scream that loud, it’s dangerous.”

“I can’t help it, Joachim! Ahh! It feels so good! My whole body is tingling!”

The tension of such a forbidden and dangerous act in this secret place turned into pure pleasure. Added to that, Joachim’s rough touch created sensations so intense they were beyond imagining.

With the fear that someone might open this storehouse at any moment, their passion grew fiercer.

“Ahhh… ahhh… tingles are spreading all over my body!”

“Relax your whole body. Just stay like that.”

As Joachim panted and moved frantically atop Christine, his thoughts flickered to High Priest Kraf.

As Joachim panted and moved frantically atop Christine, his mind flashed to High Priest Kraf.

Kraf had told him to let sin take root and then empty it out, but the longer those acts went on, the more Joachim was consumed by a perfect lust for conquest over the man who had risen from priest to High Priest.

Kraf’s maddened moans and cries, the vacant eyes, the drool spilling from his lips—in watching that sacrilegious sight from above, Joachim felt not carnal delight, but intoxication in another kind of victory: sheer superiority.

It was the overwhelming ecstasy of making the High Priest kneel and weep that allowed Joachim to endure all of Kraf’s demands.

And now, he longed to conquer Christine—the Holy Sister said to be the most beautiful in all of Nastrand Cathedral.

Christine, too, felt immense ecstasy in being embraced by this handsome, promising young priest of the Cathedral.

Perfect blasphemy—could the sin written in Scripture itself feel so soft and sweet?

Pleasure spread endlessly through her body; the rapture and transgression of her spirit and flesh being wholly defiled wrapped Christine in emotions she had never known before.

“Christine! Christine!”

Joachim’s whole body tensed.

The thrill of conquering this pious maiden who led hymns at grand mass, whose enchanting, holy smile made all whisper she was like the devotion of the Spirit’s mother in Scripture!

After the stormlike frenzy passed, Joachim exhaled and gently embraced the trembling Christine from behind.

He stroked her neck, shoulders, and chest, showering her nape with kisses. His tongue traced lines along her arched back.

Christine had already completely forgotten the rosary necklace she had thrown away.

Joachim came out of the washroom, having scrubbed his body thoroughly.

A young apprentice priest respectfully handed him a cloth to dry himself. As Joachim dried off, donned his robe, and tied the belt, the apprentice carefully spoke.

“The Holy Sister candidate from the northern village of Songdal, the one you mentioned before, has arrived and is waiting.”

“Ah! The very clever girl, yes. Her name was…”

“She is called Lyset. She has just turned twelve.”

“Mhm. A fine age for initiation. How precocious she must be, to have her name on the rolls since four years ago… The New Year’s formal initiation is past, so we’ll handle it simply. I’ll meet her first, then inform the High Priest.”

Joachim entered the counseling room. The priest from Songdal and Lyset rose as he came in.

The two priests crossed themselves and exchanged the greeting, “Peace be upon you in the Lord,” touching cheeks lightly. Lyset watched them intently.

“So, you must be Lyset. The wise girl who kept us waiting four years.”

“Lyset, greet him. This is Father Joachim, who oversees admissions and education at the Cathedral.”

Lyset smiled with her blue eyes, gently pinched her skirt, and bowed gracefully—like a noblewoman greeting guests at a banquet. Everyone laughed, forgetting entirely to cross themselves.

“Such splendid manners won’t be of use in this Cathedral, haha.”

“But isn’t she truly adorable?”

At the Songdal priest’s words, Joachim sat and stared intently at Lyset.

Indeed, her glossy black hair and blue eyes—like a lake filled with melted eternal snow—were full of brilliance. Those shining eyes, pale face, and flushed cheeks were breathtakingly beautiful.

One corner of Joachim’s mouth twitched upward.

“Our Lyset… So, you’ve of course been baptized?”

At that, the village priest produced the baptism certificate and the initiation guarantee received from the Cathedral four years earlier, handing them to Joachim.

“Good. And she’s been taught catechism as well?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, Lyset. May I ask you a few things?”

The village priest’s face stiffened. Lyset had hardly attended the hall’s services, had been baptized hastily, and taught none of the catechism—he hadn’t expected her to be quizzed.

But Lyset nodded confidently.

“All right. Who made this world?”

“The God we believe in!”

“Oh? Mhm… correct. Then what happens when we die?”

“We gain peaceful rest and dwell in heaven. If a soul is pure, it ascends.”

“Mhm… yes. One could put it that way.”

Joachim nodded. It was vague, but not wrong. For the final test, he asked for the confession of faith.

“Can you recite the Apostles’ Creed?”

“Almighty God, maker of Heaven and earth…”

As Lyset recited the creed without hesitation, Joachim raised his hand to halt her midway.

“Good. That’s enough, Lyset.”

For a moment, a chill glinted in Lyset’s eyes, then she returned to her usual bright smile.

Joachim rose from his seat.

“Follow me, Lyset. Father, please wait here. Tea will be served shortly. I will present Lyset to the High Priest.”

“Oh, of course. Then I leave it to you.”

Joachim took Lyset with him and walked down a long corridor.

Passing priests crossed themselves and bowed to Joachim. Even those older and more seasoned lowered their heads. Such was Joachim’s stature, as he was the special favorite of High Priest Kraf.

At the end of the long corridor lay a wide courtyard. In its center stood a great wall of wood.

“From this wall, the left side is for male priests, the right side for Holy Sisters. Only a select few, myself included, may cross between. The convent where you’ll live is that large building on the far right.”

Lyset’s eyes turned toward it.

A massive three-story stone building loomed, its walls carved with crosses. Strangely, every window was either shut or covered with heavy cloth.

“Holy Sisters must neither be seen by men nor look upon them—except during Mass, feast days, or special service. That is why the windows are covered.”

“Then how do they live inside?”

“With candles. The building is a large square, and within it lie gardens, a courtyard, and an outdoor shrine where sunlight reaches—so it’s not so suffocating.”

Joachim stroked Lyset’s hair as if to reassure her. Lyset looked down and saw women in black robes moving in small groups beneath the great building.

“From here begins the most sacred space. There is the Grand Chapel, several smaller chapels, a vast library and archives, offices of high priests, and the chambers of High Priest Kraf himself.”

At the end of the corridor, Joachim opened another grand door, leading into a splendid interior.

Lyset was inwardly astonished. From outside, she had only passed through a heavy gate-like door in a long wall, but within, the cathedral’s scale felt like entering another fortress.

Noticing her wide eyes, Joachim smiled and continued.

“The Nastrand Cathedral is larger than any in the duchies of Nordenheim. Long ago, it was a temple to idols—vile demons, false and ignorant objects of faith—so foul it offends me even to name them.”

A cold light flickered in Lyset’s eyes. Joachim, not noticing, spread his arms proudly.

“Behold how that foul temple was turned into the Lord’s, and made greater still. This is the Lord’s power, and the authority He has granted us.”

“……”

“Our Lyset is a rather quiet child.”

Joachim patted her head. Lyset looked up, hiding the chill in her eyes, and smiled sweetly.

At last, they stood before a great office.

Knock knock.

“Peace in the Lord. It is Father Joachim.”

Joachim announced himself after knocking on the door handle.

Soon after,

“Just a moment, please…”

A voice called from inside.

Feeling awkward standing idly, Joachim grinned at Lyset.

“Few may have audience with the High Priest in his office. One must always knock twice, give the greeting of the faithful, and state one’s rank.”

“Then what should I say?”

“Hmm… To hold a title as Holy Sister will take at least ten years. For now, simply ‘Holy Sister Lyset’.”

At that moment, the door creaked open.

A fishy, sordid stench wafted out.

The door was opened by an apprentice priest, his face still flushed, sweat beading on his brow. Red marks on his neck looked like crushed rose petals.

‘So this is the youth High Priest Kraf chose this time…’

Joachim smirked with scorn.

The apprentice, flustered, bowed to avoid Joachim’s gaze. His tousled blond hair betrayed what had just taken place inside.

“Peace in the Lord. Forgive the wait, Father Joachim. And this is…?”

“I am Lyset.”

“Indeed, Sister Lyset. Please, come in.”

On the walls and ceiling hung holy paintings; on either side, rows of bookshelves; before them, a great desk, and behind it, the cross.

At the desk sat Kraf, aged and glaring keenly at Joachim.

“Oho, Joachim~! My truly beloved priest.”

Displeasure flickered on Joachim’s face, mingled with a strange surge of conquest.

“Peace in the Lord, High Priest Kraf.”

“Yes, peace in the Lord. But tell me, who is this dainty creature of God at your side?”

“Her name is Lyset. From Songdal Village north of Mount Yotun, promised for initiation four years ago…”

“Ah! Yes, the wise girl. My, she is even younger than I expected.”

“I spoke briefly with her—she is remarkably bright. Only twelve years old…”

“Indeed. If her recommendation was raised long ago, there must have been good reason.”

Kraf’s eyes, smiling, examined Lyset from head to toe. He searched her face again and again, as if to catch any flaw or trace of corruption.

‘Strange. That face is so familiar… yet how could I know a girl so young?’

Kraf tilted his head.

“You said your name is Lyset? Yes, Sister Lyset… Have you seen me before?”

“No, never.”

“Of course not? Yet odd… your face is familiar. You said Songdal Village?”

“Yes.”

“Hm… I’ve never been there. What are your parents’ names?”

“I don’t know. I was raised by my grandmother.”

He could find no thread to resolve the strange familiarity. Unease flickered in his eyes.

It was certainly a face he had seen before—he felt it.

So strong that with just one clear clue, he could have dragged forth the memory—but it lay veiled.

In the end, Kraf decided to ponder it at their next meeting.

He did not realize that the girl before him was the outcome of that day—when he went to Soria Village, killed Yondalf, sought the canyon, and slew the last warrior of the gods. He did not know she was the prophet’s executor, the child conceived by the priestess in that hut.

Nor did Lyset know.

The prophecy she bore and would one day fulfill enfolded her, guiding her—but she had not realized that this wretched old man was the one who had driven her mother, Elin, to that day of ruin.

Still, she sensed well enough that High Priest Kraf would become a great obstacle and threat upon her path.

It was not merely the revulsion of the man Kraf—it was something far deeper.

“Very well. Father Joachim has verified the details. Come here, Lyset.”

When Lyset hesitated forward, Kraf seized her, stroking her head, shoulders, and back. The serpent-like touch made her body stiffen.

“Welcome to Nastrand Cathedral. Dedicate yourself, and bear witness to the Lord’s word in this land as a Holy Sister.”

With a frozen face, Lyset forced a smile and nodded.

Fortunately, the audience ended there.

Kraf straightened his back with a nod, signaling it was over. Joachim crossed himself, bowed, and led Lyset out.

As the apprentice shut the office door, Kraf approached from behind.

It was time to finish what had been interrupted.