The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess

Phield noticed that the green marker on the minimap was gradually shifting from blurred to clear.

"Hm? Could it be that the Divine Chosen’s lord is already dead... or perhaps... she’s waking up."

"Hand over the Holy Light artifact!"

The stitched humanoid monster spoke again, its voice a grotesque chorus of many female voices layered together. As its roar grew louder, chunks of flesh sloughed off its body with a sickening rustling, making the scene even more revolting.

Not only did Phield feel no fear, he casually removed The Silver Iris Brooch and said with interest, "I wouldn’t mind giving it to you—but I’d rather make a deal. I have a few questions."

"Huh? That’s not possible! Phield, it’s a demon! What kind of human makes deals with demons on their own initiative?"

Sylvia waved her hands frantically, spinning in place in panic.

"Be quiet. My lord has his reasons."

Ashina, far more familiar with Phield’s temperament, showed no trace of panic. Divine power surged around her like a raging tide, ready to strike at any moment.

The monster didn’t respond immediately. Instead, it tilted its head and studied Phield.

"How did these nuns end up like this?"

Phield was genuinely curious. He worried that something like this might one day happen within his own territory. The thought of his people suddenly turning into monsters was horrifying.

"They chose it themselves. Their faith collapsed, their minds broke, and they embraced the darkness willingly. I did not seduce them. The fall of the Holy Light is inevitable. More and more will choose the darkness."

To Phield’s surprise, the grotesque creature actually answered.

"Then... what exactly are you?"

Phield paused for two seconds before asking cautiously.

"You offer one artifact, I answer one question." The monster extended its grotesque hand. "Give it to me."

Phield leaned back slightly. "No contract, no guarantee—and you expect me to trust you? You really think I’m here to make a fair deal?"

The monster visibly froze. It clearly hadn’t expected such blatant disrespect from a human. Even great nobles would feel fear and shock upon seeing a creature that defied the Holy Light.

But the man before it didn’t seem afraid at all—deep down.

"You seek death! Insignificant human—I will crush your soul!"

The monster roared, its voice booming like thunder, reverberating through the basement and rattling the eardrums.

"Why are you yelling so loud? Got a problem? Too bad—you were born stupid!"

Phield remained completely unfazed, arms crossed, wearing an expression of absolute confidence. "You didn’t even notice I’ve got two Divine Chosen backing me, and you’re still trying to act tough? I think you’re the one asking to die."

"Beat it! Make it kneel and sing for me!"

Phield waved his hand.

Sylvia instantly turned into a blur, appearing behind the stitched monster like a phantom. Her dagger struck out in rapid succession.

But the creature was made from countless stitched limbs—and conveniently, it had two twisted faces on its back. It spotted Sylvia immediately.

With a sudden roar, its claw tore through the air, leaving lingering afterimages. With a single slap, Sylvia was sent flying.

Her body spun through the air like a beautifully dressed rag doll before crashing into one of the church machines.

"Are you alright?!"

Phield’s mouth twitched, nearly coughing up blood. He knew Sylvia wasn’t particularly strong—but being casually swatted away by a Tier-3 monster was still beyond his expectations.

Worse, the church machine had locked onto her.

Sensing a body on it, the magic core immediately activated. Two suction arms extended from either side, moving to latch onto Sylvia. Her delicate face instantly filled with panic.

"This won’t work! I haven’t had kittens—there’s nothing to extract!"

"Stop messing around."

Phield dashed forward, slashing repeatedly. The machine was quickly destroyed, allowing Sylvia to tumble free.

"You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Don’t tell me a Divine Chosen can’t break free from something like that. You owe me a defeat animation."

Phield flicked her forehead, half amused, half exasperated.

"Uh... it all happened too suddenly. I didn’t react in time."

The catgirl scratched her head awkwardly.

Meanwhile, Ashina was already pummeling the monster.

Drakewolf’s massive body descended with overwhelming force, casually slamming the stitched creature into the ground.

Ashina followed up with a kick. Her pale foot sliced through the air, distorting it as it passed.

Boom!

The monster was driven straight into the stone floor.

"A beastkin Divine Chosen? Why are you fighting alongside a human?"

The stitched creature was stunned. It had assumed the two women were merely Phield’s playthings and hadn’t taken them seriously at all.

"Sing."

Ashina still hadn’t drawn her weapon. Even though Phield’s order sounded like a joke, she carried it out without hesitation. When the monster didn’t respond, she directed Drakewolf to continue the beating.

"Sing or not? Sing or not?"

"???"

The stitched creature spat out a mouthful of foul blood, utterly bewildered. What?

Before it could even ask, it felt the world spin. It was hurled through the air, smashed against a wall, and dropped heavily to the ground.

"Monster—uh, Miss Monster—I think now we can have a proper conversation."

Phield still wasn’t ready to give up. He had far too many questions.

At that moment, the green marker on the minimap fully formed.

In the center of the basement, the birdcage began to contract, each bar folding inward like a perfect mechanical construct. It transformed into two streams of light that sank into the woman’s wrists.

She slowly rose into the air, her curled body gradually unfolding.

Her right leg, adorned with a gold-threaded garter etched with intricate patterns, lightly touched the ground. Even the simple act of landing caused a soft ripple across her full chest. Her long hair cascaded down, nearly brushing the floor.

As her toes touched the ground, her eyes slowly opened—deep, sacred, yet filled with confusion and sorrow.

She stood there, long legs bare save for the garter—she wasn’t even wearing shoes.

Fortunately, Divine Chosen were enveloped in divine power, forming an invisible veil. Otherwise, her pale feet would have been stained with blood.

"A fallen one?"

The Holy Light Divine Chosen immediately noticed the battered stitched creature before her, along with the hellish scene around them.

"Divine Artifact—Wings of Sacred Embrace."

In the next instant, massive angelic wings unfurled. Countless white feathers drifted through the air, as if an angel had descended.

"So magnificent..."

Phield blinked, momentarily stunned, even wiping his drool. "No wonder the Church can attract so many followers. Damn—if I were a native here, I’d be at the chapel every day... observing those milky—uh, I mean, listening to sermons."

The Holy Light Divine Chosen stepped forward. With a single powerful beat of her wings, she crossed more than a dozen steps in an instant.