Saintess Agnes continued to kneel on the ground, her body trembling with both physical pain and emotional turmoil.
The toll taken by her summon being destroyed completely was evident in the blood that continued to spill from her lips, staining her pristine robes. Despite the agony, her eyes still blazed with an anger, a reflection of her unstable mental state.
"I hate you... I hate you... I hate you," she muttered the words through heavy, ragged breaths. The torment she had endured had pushed her to the brink, breaking the confines of her sanity.
"Are you alright Saintess Agnes?"
As her fellow Vatican members rushed to her side, their faces etched with concern, they attempted to channel their holy power to heal her.
In their minds, the pure and divine energy that had always mended wounds was the solution to her condition. But their attempts yielded the unexpected.