The village was in chaos, but Serafine? She was having the ti of her life.
Her Mask of Light had leveled up—no, evolved—into sothing far more ridiculous and delightful than before. No longer was she confined to rely stealing faces like so discount theater perforr. No, now she could absorb entire bodies, right down to the sagging skin, the brittle joints, and the arthritic rage that ca with old age.
A true masterpiece of mimicry, allowing her to slip into another's existence as if trying on a new outfit, except this outfit ca with a bad back and the unshakable urge to complain about "kids these days."
Naturally, her first test subject had been none other than Granny Elspeth.
A legendary figure in the village, Granny Elspeth had spent her final years terrorizing children, smacking unsuspecting fools with her cane, and dispensing unsolicited life advice with the unwavering authority of soone who had survived at least three plagues and outlived most of her enemies.
Her death had been mourned, but Serafine had taken one look at the situation and thought:
Did she mourn?
Not really.
Did she see an opportunity?
Absolutely.
So here she stood, disguised as Granny Elspeth—wrinkled face, hunched posture, but with all of her abilities intact. Her disciples, however, were far less amused.
"L-Lady Savior?" Calix stamred, staring at the familiar-yet-not-so-familiar elderly woman before him. "Why do you look like that?"
Clara, looking horrified, pointed an accusing finger. "You—You STOLE an old woman's body?!"
Serafine, still adjusting to the new form, waved a frail hand dismissively. "Borrowed, dear. She wasn't using it anymore."
Mariella, who had long since stopped expecting normalcy from her saintess, crossed her arms and groaned. "Of course you did."
Serafine ignored them. This was going to be fun.
The mont she saw Harold basking in his own self-importance, her mischief instincts kicked into full throttle.
And so, hobbling forward like the world's most deceptively powerful granny, she made her move.
Harold, still gloating in front of his n, barely noticed the slow-moving figure approaching.
That is, until she spoke.
"Young man," Serafine's voice wobbled like a frail old woman's, but carried undeniable authority, "what in Aurelia's na are you doing, acting like so thug in my village?"
Harold turned, already annoyed. But when his eyes landed on the fragile-looking old lady standing before him, he scoffed.
"You should be bowing, old hag, not running your mouth—"
SLAP!
The air cracked.
Harold's head snapped to the side.
The entire village gasped.
Serafine stood there, hunched and shaking slightly—whether from old age or righteous fury, none could tell.
"What did you just say to , you disrespectful brat?" Her voice quivered with just the right mix of indignation and elder rage.
Harold, utterly stunned, pressed a hand to his now-burning cheek. "D-Did you just slap —"
WHACK!
This ti, she struck him upside the head, sending his ponytail flying in the wind.
"I asked you a question, boy!"
The villagers were dead silent. Harold's n? They were too busy processing the fact that their mighty leader was currently getting disciplined by a hunched, fragile-looking granny.
Harold's face burned, not just from the slaps but from sheer humiliation. "You—You're DEAD, YOU OLD WITCH!"
With a furious yell, he lunged forward, summoning his Ethos—only for Serafine to casually step to the side, causing him to trip over her cane.
He tumbled, face-first, into the dirt.
The silence was deafening.
And then Serafine, ever the gracious elder, tsk-ed in disappointnt.
"Young people these days… No discipline! No manners!"
She reached down and, in a move that defied all expectations, grabbed Harold by the ear and yanked.
"OW-OW-OW-OW-OW!!!"
The once-mighty warrior squealed like a child caught stealing candy.
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Serafine barked, dragging him around like a misbehaving toddler.
"L-LET GO, YOU OLD BAT!"
"WHAT WAS THAT?" YANK.
"I-I AN, RESPECTABLE ELDER—PLEASE, LET GO—OWWWW!!"
The villagers lost it. So covered their mouths in shock, others had to turn away to stifle laughter.
Calix, Mariella, and Clara? They looked two seconds away from passing out.
And then, because Serafine never did anything halfway—
SPANK!
Harold let out the most undignified yelp as a powerful smack landed on his armored backside.
The man scrambled forward, red-faced and panicking. "WHAT THE—?!"
Serafine, eyes gleaming with malice, cracked her knuckles. "Now, now, child, don't run. You need to learn so respect."
Harold did try to fight back—he really did.
But every ti he swung his sword, Serafine would expertly dodge in the most ridiculous ways possible.
At one point, she accidentally (on purpose) tripped herself, but sohow backflipped over Harold's attack, landing gracefully on her feet.
Harold's face twisted in confusion.
"What—WHAT KIND OF GRANNY MOVES LIKE THAT?!"
Serafine wobbled her head, looking dazed. "Oh dear… Was that my Ethos? I really don't know how to use this thing properly…"
She raised her hand—and blasted Harold in the face with a bright beam of light.
The impact sent him flying backward, landing in a heap of broken dignity.
Mariella stared. "She's embarrassing him on purpose."
Clara nodded solemnly. "This is… true vengeance."
Calix, anwhile, was praying for Harold's soul.
Harold groaned, weakly pushing himself up. "Y-You… y-you…" His face was completely red. Not from anger—but sheer, unfiltered sha.
Serafine, still in granny form, lood over him.
"Now, young man…" she cooed, voice suddenly much sweeter. "Do you understand why you shouldn't be causing trouble in my village?"
Harold nodded frantically.
"And do you promise to be a good boy and leave us alone?"
Another rapid nod.
"Good, good." Serafine bead. Then her expression darkened. "Because if you don't…" She leaned down, whispering ominously, "I will make sure your father hears about everything you've been doing behind his back."
Harold paled. "Y-You wouldn't."
Serafine smiled.
"I would."
Harold scrambled up so fast it was almost impressive. "I-I'LL TELL MY FATHER ABOUT THIS!"
Serafine clapped her hands together. "Oh, you do that, dear."
With a shriek of frustration, Harold bolted, his n hesitating before awkwardly following.
The second they left, the entire village erupted in cheers.
Serafine dusted off her wrinkled hands and turned back to her disciples, still disguised as a granny. "See? No problem at all."
Calix blinked. "…Please never do that again."
But just as Serafine was about to make another witty remark, her eyes flickered to the crowd.
There, standing at a distance, was a lone man.
Unlike the others, he hadn't cheered. Hadn't reacted.
He simply watched.
Serafine's grin faded slightly.
Who was he?
Sothing about him felt… off.
And for the first ti all day, she felt the tiniest prickle of unease.
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