CORPSE EATER

There wasn't any grand speech or toast commencing the feast. Since this village was a small one, with only a humble population of fifty people, almost nothing could go unnoticed by the bored housewives who wanted to find something new to talk about.

So how could they ignore the fact that people were coming from afar, bringing with them lots of food and beverages to prepare for the arrival of someone important? By the time Alea arrived, they already knew where the feast was going to take place in their cozy village.

The moment they had Alea's permission, they rushed for where the faint smell of meat was coming from, all the while yelling. "Praise House Gennan."

Only the village chief remained, walking slowly behind Alea, maintaining a respectful distance. Alea stopped, gesturing the man to come closer, and he reluctantly came forth.

She wrapped her arm around his, pressing herself firmly, locking him from pulling away.

"Princess Alea, what are you doing?" The man was visibly taken aback, but he didn't dare try to pull away, fearing that, if he did so, he would anger the beautiful mischief.

But then he found something else was gripping onto his arm. It was harsh and rough, binding tightly under his long sleeve—not hard enough to break it, but enough to let him know she could.

"Says," The crown on Alea gave off an intimidating aura as she continued to smile softly, eyes not glancing at the beads of sweat running down the man's face. "Who taught you the Church's way of greeting?"

"What?" The man's face became pale.

"I figured you must still be very young to slip up on such a mistake like that. Probably older than me though." Alea said. "I can point out where you did wrong, senior. But why should I? When I don't know your true identity yet? Are you a friend of a foe?"

"Friend. I'm a friend. Stop hurting me." The village's chief started shaking; his knees threatened to buckle under fear.

"Well then, 'friend'. Tell me, who are you?"

"Please release my hand. I need to get the credential in my pocket."

"If you try anything funny, I will make sure you eat porridge for the rest of your life." Alea commanded Corski to release their grip.

The chief's hand shook as he took a card out of his sleeve, giving it to Alea.

'This person's from the church.'

Unmistakably, there was the symbol of the Church of Three.

'A female human. Her name is Ismael. And she's nineteen. I am guessing she has some sort of power related to disguise.'

Alea read the card quietly before putting it away.

'I mess up big time. The church won't be happy if I were to cause trouble with their mission. Wait. If she needs to put on a disguise, doesn't that mean her mission didn't allow her to be found out?'

Alea turned her face, closing in on the human's ears, and talked in the human's tongue.

"Let's talk after the feast, saintess."

***

People continued to talk and dance; their spirits high though the night as they feasted upon the meals prepared.

Everyone but two people.

Alea and Ismael had excluded themselves into the confines of the village hall. The lantern swung gently as Ismael strode forward on the creaking floor, leading them to a private area dedicated to the village chief.

Ismael put the key into the hole before twisting it, revealing a humble quarter with clothes scattered on the floor, by the open windows, by the bed.

'How did she even throw it all the way there?' Alea thought, looking where the windows were. Since it was frowned upon to have your windows closed in elves' culture, the windows in people of importance's rooms were often higher than average with spikes and all sorts of countermeasures to protect their privacy and secrets.

After closing the door behind, Ismael's body shimmered like waves under the pale moon, shifting and twisting until she wasn't in the form of a middle-aged man anymore. She had a petite body, with dark brown hair and hazel skin. Freckles dotted her face under where her golden eyes shone, looking at Alea with skeptical gazes. Her ears were even stranger, not pointy but curled like a crescent moon.

The transparent fluid condensed onto her hand, facing Alea, wriggling around.

'Cute.' Alea thought to herself. Before she knew it, her hand was already on the creature; it had an almost dough-like property, molding and stretching as she continued to squish the tiny thing.

"Hey, stop doing that. She doesn't like it." Ismael said, throwing her hands behind her back, covering the slime. "Why are you here anyway? This place isn't in your planned route."

"Well, I am a sheltered princess whose hormones are acting all weird and dandy. So I would say. I just feel like it."

"That's it?" Ismael couldn't help but gasped her mouth at Alea's audacity.

"Yep." Alea puffed her chest.

"You know there's a term for kids like you, you know?"

"Yeah, what's it?"

"Come closer."

Ismael curled her index finger in and out, telling Alea to come closer. Alea knew what she was about to do but decided to play along, bringing her face closer. Their faces were now inches away from each other when suddenly Ismael flicked Alea's forehead.

"A brat." Ismael said, looking at the smirking Alea.

"Well, that's new." She had already told Corski in advance, allowing the spirit to react in time, stopping Ismael's finger from reaching its destination. "I like you. No one dared to act so blunt toward me before."

"Then you should surround yourself with better friends then." The slime darts across Ismael with lightning speed, binding onto her hand, making it shimmer before altering its form smaller, allowing her to escape Corski's grasp.

Ismael took out a piece of a carrot from her pocket, feeding it to the slime. She gave it a few pets as it digested the food. Then she fixed her gaze back at Alea.

"I suggest you leave this place immediately. It isn't safe here." Her voice was deeper than usual, trying to appear intimidating.

"How could this village be unsafe when there's a saintess in charge of it?" Alea tilted her head to one side, looking at Ismael with a curious gaze. "Does this mean there's something even a human saint has to be worried about?"

She paused for a moment, smirking. "Like a rogue saint."

"You're starting to get on my nerves." A killing aura radiated from Ismael. The space surrounding them became heavier, making it harder to breathe for Alea.

Cold sweat trickled down the back of her neck, seeping into her fine dress. Corski, whose senses were connected with Alea's, tried to control the air spirits, telling them to stop abiding by Ismael's command. However, the lower-level spirits didn't understand Corski's command since the latter wasn't telling them to do anything.

'This isn't magic, dear. This human's killing intent is pure. You might have pushed her too far. Prepare to fight.'

'No need.' Despite her innate nature as a living creature, her mind remained calm. 'Just help me convey my message; my voice is too shaky right now.'

'You wish to hide behind my voice?'

'Yes, I want to keep this facade of a dumb, bratty noble child for the time being.'

'Very well then, let me borrow your mouth.'

Alea felt a faint pull, tugging at her throat, as her mouth opened on its own.

"Halt!" A voice entailed with an otherworldly authority spoke up. "Don't you dare lay a finger on House Gennan's challenger."

"As a representative of House Gennan, not only had she disrespected me, a saint, but she is also disregarding the safety of everyone in this village as well as her own to stand in the way of my mission." Ismael said, the slime started to spread out over her body, turning her into a transparent humanoid. "I've given her enough leniency out of respect for your House, Oh Great Spirit. But enough is enough. Her insolence knows no bounds. If fate allows her to sit on the throne, she would become a tyrant."

"By the Church's will, I've deemed her unworthy to become king." Her arms turned into blades, impaling the dark wood floor.

Ismael strides forward, trailing the blades behind her.

"Death of name. Either she cooperates and goes with me to have her name removed. Or resist, and I shall grant her a true death."

"Have you considered what will happen if you do that?" Corski waved Alea's hands, and thorns sprouted from the crown, putting a wall between them and the approaching saint.

"I've no concerns for my own." Ismael said, her blade arms split into multiple smaller rotating hatchet arms, clearing a path as she continued her advance.

"I'm not talking about what will happen to you, human. I'm talking about what will happen to your mission. The supposed top-class secret mission. You will have to make your case public if you wish to take away her right."

Ismael came to a halt. It was hard to tell what she was thinking under the featureless face.

"You can't do that now, can you? So that left you with one option. To kill her. However, all the surrounding villages already knew about our challenger's feast. The news of her visit will only continue to spread far and wide." Corski continued to relay Alea's message, "Won't someone find something strange if she were to lose her life here right after her feast? People will start looking, won't they? Especially those who are affiliated with our House."

"What's stopping them from pointing fingers? From bringing more people here to investigate this humiliation? This little village will become the center of everyone's attention. Will you still be able to keep your mission a secret by then?"

Ismael was frozen in place, like a broken golem. She didn't know what to do next. She couldn't allow her mission to be known. There were already rumors going around. Even if the content of the mission was hidden during Alea's persecution, people would still be able to connect the dots and confirm their suspicion.

And just like Alea's word—killing her would only make sense if she could wrap things up here quicker than the news spreading. But that was simply impossible considering the severity of her mission. As Ismael became deeper in thought, her killing intent slowly dispersed. Sensing this change, Alea took back control over her body.

"I know I've angered you, saintess. I'm sorry." Her voice was low and soft, interrupted by hiccups, and she sniffled as she began to cry. "I didn't mean to. When I heard about the rumor, I just wanted to help. I didn't mean to cause you trouble. Please don't kill me."

Then, Alea burst out crying, yelling, and wailing on the floor like a toddler whose toys were taken away from her.

"Alright. Enough. Enough." Ismael yelled out.

Alea didn't stop not until Ismael spoke up again.

"I suppose... having someone to help me out won't hurt."

"Really?" Alea sat up, the wall of thorns retracted back

"If you just want to help, then promise me to keep everything a secret, including our encounter."

"I will—"

Before Alea could finish her sentence, Ismael had grabbed her by the throat, lifting her up. In her normal state, Ismael was a head shorter than Alea. However, in her current self, she was a giantess, standing at over three meters tall. She pulled Alea's face closer.

"I'll need proof."

'Don't retaliate!' Alea yelled out inwardly, telling the spirit not to act out.

Ismael showed Alea the inside of her palm, from which a piece of her broke off, turning into a fine surgeon's knife.

"I want your pinky finger." Ismael said, dropping the knife down on the floor before releasing her grip on Alea's neck.

As Alea fell down, Corski commanded the low-level wind spirits to break her fall, making it a painless landing. Alea looked up at the imposing figure before looking down at the small blade.