Chapter 2706: Saintess Catherine S. Margaret

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Sky Blossom City, TSR Guild Headquarters

"Master Wyatt!"

Jack Whiteburn and his small entourage bowed as I approached Corey, their posture befitting a demigod. Before I could return the greeting, Eliza stepped forward and extended a scroll toward me. "Master Wyatt, please forgive us. Due to our family troubles, we were unable to come to receive you properly."

"Please, don’t stand on ceremony," I said, excusing them. I didn’t reach for the scroll. Instead, I asked, "What’s that?"

Seeing my hesitation, Eliza spoke again, taking the hint. "It’s a gift," she explained. "The deed to our family’s Spirit-Gold dungeon mine. I ask that you graciously accept it."

As I listened to her, I couldn’t help but glance at Jack. The man was thorough. He remembered how he had once accused Susan and me of tricking his children out of their family’s Spirit-Gold, going so far as to call us liars. But once the matter had been clarified, he had properly apologized back then.

Yet, to erase any lingering resentment, he hadn’t hesitated to offer me his family’s very foundation as a gift. Considering the trouble they were facing and the favor they were about to ask, it was a small price to pay.

"Hold on to it for now," I said, intending to decide once the meeting had concluded. I then turned my gaze to Paul. As our eyes met, I added, "It’s an honor to meet the Church of Demigod Michael Angelo Godson’s Saintess."

At my words, Paul’s eyebrows shot up, mirroring Jack’s and Eliza’s reactions. It seemed my assumption was correct. Given the information I possessed and what I had observed through my soul pupils, the conclusion was only logical.

"What are you saying, Wyatt? That’s Paul. Did you forget him already?" Corey snapped, glaring at him. "He’s the bastard who keeps harassing Beth and tried to kill Pax."

I raised a hand, signaling her to stop. Though clearly confused, Corey fell silent. Her expression nearly flared again when Paul smiled and spoke calmly, "It seems you truly were capable of defeating the Emissary of Light’s soul projection despite committing the blunder of streaming the fight across the grimoire network."

The tone and manner of his speech were nothing like Paul’s usual self. It was feminine, eloquent, almost foreign. Weirded out by it, Corey frowned and asked, "What’s wrong with your voice?" Then, turning sharply to Jack and Eliza, she added, "Did you guys do this to him as punishment? It was long overdue. Now that I think about it, it’s actually kind of funny."

"Weren’t you listening to what he said? I’m not Paul. Since he already knows, I might as well reveal myself now and spare myself this embarrassment," Paul snapped at Corey. However, the moment he noticed the snake coiled around her ponytail, watching him with the cold focus of a predator eyeing its prey. Unable to fathom its realm but preserving danger from it, he cut himself short instead of escalating the confrontation.

Corey didn’t immediately understand what Paul meant. She was still stuck on his voice, unsettled by how foreign it sounded, and that dissonance clouded her judgment. Her confusion only deepened when Paul’s body began to change.

His face shifted first, the sharper lines subtly softening as bone and flesh adjusted with eerie precision. The structure remained familiar, yet unmistakably altered, as if his features were being refined rather than replaced. His hair followed, lengthening as it spilled past his shoulders, while his skin grew paler and smoother, shedding its former coarseness.

His frame changed next. His shoulders narrowed, his posture subtly rebalancing as his hips widened to accommodate a different center of gravity. Beneath his clothes, his chest reshaped itself, structure giving way to gentle contours that spoke of a body no longer male, yet not grotesquely exaggerated either. The transformation was deliberate, restrained, and undeniably intentional.

Finally, even his clothing responded. Fabric unraveled and reformed, weaving itself into ceremonial vestments more suited to a priestess... or perhaps a saintess.

Only then did Corey understand and began to regret not keeping her mouth shut as her boss asked her to.

"Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Saintess Catherine S. Margaret of the Church of Demigod Michael Angelo Godson," she introduced herself, and at last, her revelation landed like a thunderclap on Corey.

"Are you also Paul? If not, then where is Paul?" Corey demanded, still struggling to process the unsettling transformation she had just witnessed. Her thoughts raced. And beyond that, another question gnawed at her mind. What was a Saintess of the Empire doing here, in a small town removed from all government and royal family charters and living within an otherwise unremarkable family?

Jack and Eliza’s expressions turned complicated. Excommunicated or not, Paul carried the Whiteburn family blood in his body. Watching a Saintess take possession of his body and reshape it to suit her own presence was not something either of them could witness without unease. And hearing Corey voice the difficult questions they had been deliberately avoiding to ask her only made it harder for them.

"Corey, shut up," I ordered again and changed the topic, turning to the Saintess Catherine and asking, "Am I correct in assuming that you are the one who requested this meeting through them? Speak, what is it you want to do?"

Saintess Catherine studied the young man before her, attempting again and again to gauge his realm. Each time, the result remained the same. It showed him as nothing more than a low-level card apprentice. Yet despite what the assessment insisted, the Saintess trusted the unease stirring within her. The young man standing before her was not nearly as simple as he appeared. After all, she had seen the streams of him defeating an elite card demigod and the soul projection of the Emissary of Light. His realm was clearly far beyond what she could precisely discern.

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