### Chapter 1: The Final Comfort The winter air in the small parish was always damp, heavy with the scent of old hymn books and beeswax. Sister Elara, seventy-four years old and with knees that ached with the weather, didn't mind. She found the familiar scent comforting. She was sitting in her small, Spartan office, looking over the week's schedule, when the pain started. It wasn't the dull, familiar ache of arthritis; this was a sudden, tightening vise around her sternum, a breathless punch that stole the prayer from her lips. Sister Elara, being utterly pragmatic, didn't panic. She recognized the feeling. "Ah, so this is it," she thought, leaning back slowly against the hard wood of her chair. For seventy years, she had prepared others for this moment—she was certainly not going to make a fuss about her own. A strange warmth began to spread from her chest, not painful, but profound. It felt like the accumulated goodness of every blessing she'd ever given, every scared hand she'd ever held, pooling into a bright, white core. Her vision began to tunnel. She heard the soft whir of the old ceiling fan and, distantly, the giggle of a child playing in the garden. "Peace be with you," she whispered, a familiar benediction for a soul departing. This time, it was for her own. A gentle pressure pushed her from her chair. Not a fall, but a lift. One moment she was feeling the failing mechanics of her old body, and the next, she was a shimmering point of light floating in an endless, soft white expanse. "You left quite gracefully, Elara," a voice sighed. It sounded like the quiet rustle of silk sheets, utterly calm but utterly exhausted. Elara turned, though she had no body to turn with. Before her stood a being of immense size and gentle power: Astra, the Weaver of Fates and Comfort. Astra was not brilliant or intimidating, but wore the perpetual weariness of someone who had seen too many lifetimes pass. "Astra," Elara stated, "I assume my paperwork is in order?" Astra offered an ethereal, tired smile. "Perfectly. You died doing what you loved: planning to do more work. Which, incidentally, brings me to the reason you are here and not through the next door." "That looks lovely," Elara said honestly. "I am ready for a nap." "I know, my dear, but I have a favor to ask. A work, if you will. For me, and for my friend, Solus." Astra's voice dropped, laced with deep sadness. "Solus guards the world of Aetheria. It is collapsing. The spirits that ground their magic are corrupted—they call them Phantoms. They are not mindless; they feed on despair. Solus is failing, trapped by his own diminishing light." Elara waited patiently. "And you wish me to pray for him, Goddess?" "No. I wish you to be his prayer. I need to send something into Aetheria that cannot be corrupted. Their priests fight the monsters, but they have forgotten how to save the spirits within them. They destroy, they do not comfort." Astra's form flowed closer. "Your power, Elara, was never in your vestments or your words, but in your unshakeable certainty that every soul deserves peace. You are immune to the despair they weaponize." "I have prepared a new body for you. It carries the blood of a Legendary Saint; a secret lineage known as Zelfist. This vessel, known as Clara, will amplify your spiritual presence. It is a one-time opportunity." Elara looked toward the golden door of peace. Elara was an old priest, and old priests helped people. "It sounds like rather complicated work, Astra," Elara finally said, her resolve firming. "But if my purpose is to teach monsters about peace, then I suppose I ought to get started. Just tell me one thing: Does this new body have good knees?" Astra chuckled. "They are excellent, Clara. Now go. You have a world to save."
The Systems and The Ultimate Skill
Astra's weary voice sharpened, taking on the tone of a war briefing. "Before I send you, you must understand the current state of Aetheria. You will not be the only one fighting, but you will be the only one doing the right kind of fighting. The warriors there have five dominant ways of using power, and you must navigate them."
Astra projected five shimmering constellations of light, each representing a power system.
The Church of the Holy Sanctuary (Divine Miracle): "They use standard holy magic and summon Angels, but they have become obsessed with bureaucracy and destruction. They destroy the Phantom, but neglect the trapped soul within."
The Internal Balance (Yin and Yang Kung Fu): "These are disciplined martial artists who cultivate Chi. They are tough and mentally resilient, but their method is purely focused on internal harmony and physical disruption. They are not concerned with the spiritual world itself."
The Miko and Contract Sealing (Spirit Binding): "They borrow power by making contracts with pure, natural spirits. They understand the spiritual landscape, but they are dependent on those spirits, which are being corrupted daily."
Necromancy (Dark Resurrection): "The forbidden path. They harness the power of death to animate the dead and create Undead Servants. They fight horror with horror, and thus are as much a danger to the world's soul as the Phantoms are."
Demon Hunters (Spiritual Metallurgy): "The crafters. They don't have innate magic, but they use purified spirit fragments and rare materials to forge Phantom-Repelling Weapons and accessories. They are the supply line, not the frontline heroes."
"All these systems are flawed, Elara. They kill the monster, but they leave the root problem—the despair—untouched."
Astra's shimmering form intensified, pulling Elara's attention back. "This brings me to your final piece of preparation. The body of Clara Zelfist, with its Saint's Blood, has a singular, legendary ability tied to its lineage—a skill that has never been used, only whispered about in the oldest texts of Aetheria. It is reserved for a soul of absolute, untainted righteousness."
A single, overwhelming pillar of golden light erupted next to the door of peace, almost blinding.
"It is called the Ultimate Skill: Gate of Sanctuary . It can summon seven Pillars of Angels, each tasked with enacting one of the seven Judgments against the seven sins that corrupt the world. The speed and power of this skill are terrifying, beyond human comprehension. Only your soul, Elara, the soul of a righteous priest, can activate it without being instantly incinerated by its purity."
"It is the true power of Solus, manifested for the one who still remembers the true purpose of divinity: not vengeance, but justice and ultimate comfort."
Elara nodded, accepting this grand, terrifying gift