After making arrangements for everyone, Charles continued, "Any other questions?"
Sephera immediately raised her hand. "Priest, are you going out to save people as well?"
Charles nodded. "Of course. Once the new shelters are built, I’m heading out."
At once, Sephera’s brows knitted in concern. "The rain is so heavy out there, and the water is rushing fast. It’s far too dangerous. Let us go instead—please, stay here."
Next to her, Ruth immediately agreed. "Yes, I think so too."
On the other side, Hattie and Theresa nodded repeatedly, clearly unwilling to let him take such a risk. But Charles’s attitude was firm: "I’ll be fine. I’m at least a fourth-circle spellcaster now."
"And the more of us there are, the more efficiently we can work, hmm..."
As he said this, his gaze landed on Theresa, and suddenly, inspiration struck.
"Theresa," he called, "can you use your powers to directly monitor the whole slums, and see clearly where there are collapsed houses or people swept away by the flood?"
Theresa frowned, then turned to gaze out the window at the endless wall of rain.
"No," she shook her head. "There’s too much vapor in the air, the light is far too distorted. Even if I managed to spot someone in the water, I’d most likely see the wrong position."
Well, it seemed search and rescue would have to be done in person.
"Let’s move," he said. "Ekta, come with me!"
With that, he strode out, pushed open the study door, and stepped outside.
The instant he left, the rain—a noise muffled by thick walls—instantly roared in his ears, pelting everything in a relentless torrent, so loud he could hardly hear anything else.
Even with a near-perfect drainage system, turbid rainwater had flooded the monastery’s grounds nearly half a meter deep, coming up to Charles’s calves.
Looking from afar, the storm was a surging sea: torrential rain smashing down in endless splashes, accompanied by howling wind and rolling waves.
Yet none of the nuns panicked in the slightest. Hattie in particular was unbothered—she was, after all, a witch from the deep sea. The wetter things were, the more at home she felt, her power only rising, flourishing beyond measure.
If not for worry that her true form was too warped and terrifying—enough to drive mortals mad at a glance—she’d have preferred to revert to it outright and swim through the flooded monastery and, perhaps, the slums themselves. Check latest chapters at novèlfire.net
Even without returning to her true form, her abilities were greatly enhanced in such conditions.
She strode into the rain, feet plunging into the water, not bothering with any cover, letting the heavy drops batter her. Yet her nun’s habit showed no sign of dampness at all; it was as if she’d become one with the storm, indistinguishable from the rain.
Swiftly, she headed beyond the monastery to finish the mission Charles had given her. After her, Ruth and Sephera shielded themselves with magic, then followed her out at speed.
Nidalee, using wild magic, transformed into a small fish, flicking her tail as she swam out; and the most impressive of all, Theresa, turned her whole body into a stream of light and flew right out from above the monastery.
Watching their figures vanish into the storm, Charles silently prayed for them, hoping for their safety. Then he took a large black raincloak and a pair of tall black boots from his Bag of Holding and put them on.
All set, he turned to Ekta. "We need to build the shelter on the other side of the monastery. Can you withstand this kind of rain?"
Gazing at the unending downpour and sea-like floodwaters outside, Ekta’s face was grim. After a moment, she shook her head furiously. "I can’t, Master. With rain this heavy, I’ll either drown or be washed away..."
As she spoke, her voice was tinged with guilt. This was the first time Charles truly needed her, yet because of her true nature, she couldn’t help at all.
Charles sighed, then spread his raincloak open and scooped her lovingly into his arms. "I’ll carry you. Let’s go!"
As he spoke, his arm slid under her knees, and with a princess carry, he swept her up. "Wrap up tight under the cloak, don’t get wet—I’ll handle the rest."
Saying this, he strode into the deep water of the courtyard. Giant raindrops drummed on his raincloak, and icy-cold flood rolled against his boots. Yet his stance was as steady as a mountain, each step parting the water as he made rapid progress.
Resting against Charles’s chest, Ekta’s heart raced wildly. Listening to the hammering of the rain on the cloak, watching the churning, near-deadly water just inches below, terror gnawed at her soul. She clung more tightly to her Master than ever.
Compared to the cold and fear that surrounded her, Charles’s embrace was warm—a harbor of safety.
Pressed close to his chest, with the rain and chill shut away, she let herself drift. She barely heard any sound; her soul felt cut off from the world. It was as if only she and her Master existed—and in that moment, the sense of being alone together was so overwhelming she nearly melted, wishing she could become part of him forever.
It was strange—though she’d been physically close to Charles countless times, this was her first time feeling :
To be held by him alone, to belong entirely to his embrace—such bliss...
She whispered these thoughts inwardly. But Charles, for his part, noticed nothing of her mood.
He simply felt he was fulfilling his duty as a Master, holding her, shielding her, wading through floodwater to the empty land at the monastery’s edge.
By now, thanks to the nuns’ tireless efforts, the monastery’s area had expanded to seventy thousand square meters.
Still, there were too few nuns—he’d been busy dealing with demonic threats, and hadn’t recruited more. Most of the grounds were thus wide and empty, only a few actual buildings scattered about.
Nothing could be done; even if new buildings had been constructed, without nuns to staff them, they’d serve no purpose. Charles, naturally, didn’t want to waste more Purification Points for nothing.
Sigh. Once Montport was defeated, he hoped at last for a period of genuine peace—time to properly develop and grow his monastery.
Lost in such thoughts, he passed through part of the inner wall and reached an open outer area. It, too, was under water, but Charles wasn’t fazed. He opened his system, chose a patch of ground in front of him, and selected "dormitory" for construction—
A milky purified light rose. The flooded ground lifted and became a platform above the water. Through the white glow, a single-story house of just under a hundred square meters took shape: a standard level-one dormitory.
He planned to use it as a temporary shelter for those whose houses had collapsed or been washed away in the flood. Officially, a level-one dorm could only house two people, but this was reality, not a game. With a little squeezing, thirty or fifty people could make do inside.
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