It was a rare sight for Her Holiness, the Original Saint, to actually threaten someone. Usually, she only spoke the truth and would do exactly as she said.
But Burn didn't know that.
The members of the assembly stood up in horror. The Dwarf King's typically stoic expression faltered, the Elven Queen's regal composure wavered, and even the usually aloof Vlad showed a flicker of concern.
“Miss Momo… nay, Your Holiness, please reconsider thy decision,” Vlad said.
The mighty Alicorn's shimmering mane seemed to lose its luster in the face of Morgan's wrath, while the Centaur Chief's usually grounded demeanor shifted to one of uncertainty.
Tashr looked at every single face, begging them to say something to Morgan. Anything. And her eyes landed on Burn, who was still sitting there, enjoying the spectacle.
The Beastkin Sovereign's fierce gaze dimmed, the Werewolf Alpha's bravado wavered, and the Merfolk Monarch's tranquil aura rippled with unease.
But it was the female dragon who bore the brunt of Morgan's ire, her humanoid form visibly trembling as if even the scales on her back couldn't protect her from her scathing words. Each member, no matter how powerful or majestic, paled in comparison to the Holy Saint’s wrath.
"Thou must forgive me, Miss Momo," Isaiah calmly pleaded, his voice filled with remorse. "I do confess mine own fault and humbly beseech thee to cease thine anger and accept my sincerest apology."
It was his fault that he had allowed these dragon younglings onto the assembly’s premises.
“Lord Pendragon, please say something,” Tashr begged.
Nayanika found herself trembling like a fragile leaf in a storm, her normally prideful scales now resembling a chihuahua's shivers.
The Holy Saint's icy glare had turned her fiery bravado into a mere flicker, reducing her majestic presence to that of a scared kitten trapped in a dragon's body.
Her attempt at a defiant snarl was more of a nervous twitch, her ears drooping as if they'd forgotten how hold up. The aura of power she usually exuded now seemed to have taken an extended vacation, leaving behind a stammering, pathetic mess of a creature.
“Calling my husband a cannibal… how must I take this offense?”
As Morgan's words echoed in the chamber, Nayanika couldn't decide if she wanted to roar in indignation or simply hide under a rock until the storm passed.
After all, being on the receiving end of the Original Saint's wrath was like asking for a sunburn in a supernova - painful, unnecessary, and likely to leave a lasting scar on her reptilian ego.
In that moment, Nayanika realized that even a dragon had its limits, and facing the music from a saint was definitely one of them.
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“My wet nurse warned me about women like you… I was hoping she was right,” Burn suddenly said.
Silence.
Just as every being inside that room turned to him, Burn saw the look on Morgan’s face. She looked so done with him, her anger evaporated.
“Momo Baby, I don’t think I can eat lizard’s eggs. Let’s… stick to chickens’, okay?” Burn said. “And let’s agree that you’ve chewed her out enough; it can be considered another act of Sapiophagy, figuratively.”
Burn was meant to say, ‘You’re delightful, I want to eat you instead,’ but he refrained in front of the other race leaders.
He knocked on the table and hummed. “Do you guys know the reason why people's souls seem to ‘leak’ out when they are born with Soulnaught Syndrome?”
Morgan took a deep breath and composed herself the moment Burn decided to explain himself. At the same time, everyone seemed to notice how the pressure had been lifted from their heads.
“If every single soul has an equal chance to learn and manifest magic through their soul, then why can't someone with Soulnaught Syndrome access that privilege, no matter what?” Burn asked once more.
Everyone started to listen closely to what he was about to say.
“I have a proven theory,” Burn explained, “that it is due to the innate disconnection between the soul and body.”
Morgan widened her eyes. That... actually made sense.
“The body, or mortality, is a tool the soul uses to exist in this world. It can also be called a confine, if you will. But someone with Soulnaught Syndrome is born with a soul not entirely within their body,” Burn continued.
“It means... there's something causing them to be born with a weak connection?” Morgan asked.
"Existence detachment, perhaps? I do remember from my earliest memory that I don’t feel any attachment to this world or my time here in my earliest memory. Almost like I wasn’t supposed to be created, or exist at all,” Burn answered.
Morgan’s eyes faltered.
“That’s not… an acceptable reason,” Morgan said. “God will never do that to anyone.”
“I believe so too, Morgan,” Burn nodded. “I am sure there’s something else causing it, because any attempt to fix it with holy power is unsuccessful.”
Burn shook his head, smiling. “Sometimes I’m afraid God had no hands in my creation, or I was wrong and He was just trying to bring me back to Him as fast as possible.”
He knew any kind of sickness, no matter what form, was a way to absolve creatures of all sin, promising paradise after death. If life was a test, then his test was sickness.
And Soulnaught Syndrome was just one of many incurable diseases.
“But I just chose to sin and rejected the promised reward,” Burn said, staring straight at Morgan’s wet, glistening eyes. He sighed, “This world needs order.”
Burn had come to find out that the outsiders had lots of religions from their worlds. One world could have thousands of religions, with people worshiping multiple deities, sometimes without any connection to the others.
It was strange that in this world, Nethermere, there was only one known God, and no one ever questioned it.
"Regardless of the reason, I've found a way to strengthen the connection between my soul and my body." Burn stood up and walked over to Morgan, smiling. "Like a man and a woman, like the opposite poles that bring the earth together, I need to find the ingredient to fix the disconnection."
Shaking his head, Burn continued, "It can't be only one, it has to be two. I've studied many literature, countless mythical books, and magical herbs—yin and yang, cold and hot, the sun and the moon, anything and everything."
"I've almost consumed every single plant in this world. Healing and toxic, poison and medicine—nothing works," Burn said, turning to Eos the Alicorn and Aidyl the Merman. "Until I found out that both merfolk meat and unicorn meat can save a life, but they cannot be eaten together."
"It might sound counterintuitive, but apparently, it's because unicorns have the power to purify with their light, while merfolk have the power to allure their opponents into the darkness of the ocean."
Burn continued, "Like fire and water. You could burn the hell out of people or drown them, the two of you are exact opposites. Unicorns come from the light of the sky, and merfolks come from the deepest part of the ocean's abyss. It just feels... right."
"Just like soul and body," he concluded.
“That’s why I hunted for the most depraved member of your races and ate them without remorse.”