The following morning.
The Battle Nun rose from her single dormitory bed, her eyes still carrying a hint of daze.
Although she had hurriedly returned here just before dawn, took a quick wash, and slept for only a few hours, she should have been utterly exhausted. Yet the biological clock she had developed over years as a Combat Professional still woke her like precise machinery at dawn.
Recalling the events of last night now, a strong sense of unreality surged into her heart like a tide.
The previous Divine Knowledge Saintess had once asserted that there would never be a day when the Eternal Holy Sword would be unsheathed. Yet, Lady Saintess had nonchalantly drawn it from the swaying bloom at her waist.
