Harem System In A fantasy World - Chapter 117: Light is said to embody good, while darkness embodies evil…

Chapter 117: Light is said to embody good, while darkness embodies evil…

Once everything was discussed and set in order—and with the Legacy World’s opening still a few months away—the Holy Mother dismissed the paladins with a gentle gesture, assuring them that proper arrangements would be made in due time.

The twelve Divine Paladins bowed deeply once more before turning to leave, with their white-gold armor chiming softly as they exited the sanctum. The massive doors closed behind them with a muted thud, sealing the cathedral’s main chapel in silence.

Only then did the Holy Mother’s calm, gentle, maternal smile fade away.

What replaced it was just a plain, composed expression, devoid of warmth. This sight would have shocked most people to no end. The Holy Mother was known to always be smiling radiantly, making her image nothing short than that of a saint.

To Solara, however, this was nothing unusual. She had seen this face countless times. Pretending to be who you are not must be exhausting.

Solara had had this exact thought multiple times.

Yes. The Holy Mother’s dignified, benevolent persona was nothing more than a carefully maintained façade—one crafted for the faithful believer of the goddess, for the foreign monarchs, for the church’s clergy, and for the world.

Faith demanded symbols, after all. And there was no greater symbol for a holy faith than a lofty, benevolent leader.

The Holy Mother turned and began walking toward a side door that led into a wide corridor branching into countless private chambers. Her enormous breasts swayed heavily with each step, and the fabric of her robe stretched taut over the swollen globes.

“Come, child. Follow,” she said.

Solara, who had been lagging a step behind, straightened immediately and complied, following behind as her ass cheeks ground together with every step she took.

They stepped into a brilliant, immaculate corridor bathed in soft, holy light. White marble walls gleamed without a single flaw, reflecting faint golden runes embedded into the ceiling.

The Holy Mother walked ahead with unhurried steps, while Solara trailed a few paces behind, with her hands folded neatly in front of her.

“You must learn to smile more,” the Holy Mother said without turning around. “Your expression is too blank and cold. The people won’t like you if you keep this up.”

Solara flinched slightly, pursing her full, rosy cherry lips in thought.

She did not answer at once.

“Remember this, Solara,” the Holy Mother continued calmly. “People underestimate those who appear kind and gentle. While men—” she scoffed softly, “—men lust after beautiful women. They are slaves to desire, and most seek to defile what they perceive as pure. You get my meaning, don’t you?”

Solara lowered her gaze, but she nodded.

“There is a reason,” the Holy Mother went on, “why the Goddess blesses every one of her believers with beauty. And those closest to her—us—even more so.”

They reached a junction in the corridor, their footsteps echoing faintly.

“Did I ever tell you how the Goddess of Light came to be?”

Solara shook her head.”No, Mother.”

“Then listen carefully,” the Holy Mother said. “As the Holy Daughter, it is your duty to remember this story. And one day, to pass it down.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“To the general populace,” the Holy Mother said, “the Goddess of Light is known as one of the few deities who ascended from mortality. She was not born divine. This truth inspires countless believers—you know this already.”

Solara nodded.

“Before her ascension,” the Holy Mother continued, her tone sharpening just slightly, “she was once betrothed to a powerful man. A man who used her. Then discarded her—he cast her aside for a woman he deemed more beautiful, once she had served her purpose.”

Solara’s fingers tightened.

“Her story is a tragic one,” the Holy Mother said coolly. “The details would make your stomach churn in disgust. She faced not just betrayal and humiliation. Her dignity was stripped from her, in public.”

She paused briefly, then added,

“But that suffering became her greatest strength. There is no greater fuel than hatred. Revenge. Generally, you can say negative emotion is the greatest source of motivation for us mortals.” A faint smile touched her lips. “Quite ironic, given the source of her divinity. Light is said to embody good, while darkness embodies evil… yet it was bitterness that propelled her ascent.”

They stopped before a smaller chamber.

“When she became the Goddess of Light,” the Holy Mother continued, “her mortal form transcended all limits. She shed it—and built herself a new body. A pure, untouched, virgin body.”

The implication was clear.

“That,” she said, “is why the Holy Mother, the Holy Daughters, and the Paladins are all required to be virgins, and to remain virgins for life. We are reflections of her will, and symbols of her rebirth.”

Solara listened intently.

Though she found little joy in the administrative burdens of her role, her faith was absolute. These teachings were not just doctrine to her—they were truth, and her way of life.

She had been born in this church, not the cathedral, but a more humble church that served as an orphanage, and of course, once her talent as a mage was discovered at a very young age, it wasn’t long before she found herself in this very cathedral.

But for a person who had known nothing, and heard nothing but stories about the goodness of the goddess, the goddess’ mercy, and the goddess’ power from birth, you could only imagine how devoted she was to her teachings.

They entered the chamber.

It was smaller, quieter, yet no less immaculate. At its center stood a sleek black altar, smooth and unblemished, stark against the white marble surrounding it.

The Holy Mother approached the altar and gently placed her sacred tome upon it.

Once the tome was placed upon the altar, the Holy Mother turned—

—and the wall to their right collapsed.

No.

Collapsed was not the correct word.

It morphed.

The white marble rippled inward like liquid folding into itself, the surface distorting silently before peeling away to reveal a hidden passage beyond. There was no sound of stone grinding, no debris falling. It was as if the cathedral itself had obediently stepped aside.

The Holy Mother did not hesitate. She stepped toward the opening and entered.

“Come,” she said calmly.

Solara followed without question.