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I must save the world, but I can't kill anyone.

As one of the angels tasked with saving the countless worlds, Savine took her job very seriously. She was diligent and thorough, and made sure to make herself the perfect example to strive for. But as time passed and as she witnessed the horrors humanity was capable of, her thoughts changed. 'Humans don't deserve the grace of us angels. As long as they're pious and peaceful in the end, the means don't matter.' Thus, whenever she went to a new world, she chose to save it in the quickest manner possible. She killed all the heretics and brainwashed the remaining people to always be faithful to God and to never act destructively towards themselves and the planet they stayed on. However, when she was about to go to another world to save it, God's Oracle enforced a few conditions on her. "No killing, no violence, no threats. Save the world the right way." Savine was then abruptly sent to the new world with all these conditions attached to her, but not only that, she found herself in the body of a 12-year-old girl from the lower cities. It was a far cry from the bodies of High-emperors, multitrillionaires, and the Supreme Magi that she normally took over. With the game stacked against her, what will Savine do? *** Arworks Illustrator: LAM Twitter: https://twitter.com/ramdayo1122?s=09 Pixiv: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/17429 Website: https://lam-illust.com/

POW · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
268 Chs

Tyranny

"Turning into dust is becoming somewhat unoriginal, no?" she thought out loud. "And it's also quite terrible public image. Dust, ashes, soot… no, no. I need something more lighthearted~"

The while hand gently touched the young noble's hand. It must've been cold. Savine was always told that her mana was cold. 

But he didn't feel the cold much longer. Piece by piece, his hand transformed into flowers. It wasn't a slow, painful process. There were no flesh turning into greenery, no bones going wooden. 

Pop! 

Like a flower at dawn, they burst into existence. 

The process was beautiful. No blood was shed, no cries of agony… it would've been perfect if he just didn't ruin it with his look of terror.

…But that, too, could be mended. Impatiently, Savine's hands reached for his head. Firmly, she grabbed his neck, forcing it blossom. A scream threatened to escape his mouth… but of course, without a throat, no such desecration was allowed.