Dragged to Another World… and I Took the Goddess with me!

Seraphina gripped the staff tightly, her fingers curling around the shaft as the crystal pulsed with light—bright, blinding, alive with power. Mana coursed through it, channeled and focused, spilling out into the air.

She swung the staff in a slow, deliberate arc, preparing her blessing. Finn staggered back slightly as a wave of raw energy radiated from her. The crystal flared brighter—like a second sun, impossible to ignore.

Her eyes had been closed until now. When they opened, her emerald gaze shone like a moon over midnight waters. Finn froze. He couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

Everyone nearby stared in silence, jaws slack. Most of them had never seen Seraphina unleash something like this. Whispers in the church claimed she didn't need to. That her blessings were too great for ordinary battles, reserved only for the direst of moments.

But Finn knew the truth. The real reason she never used this power was because Ardin didn't want her to. He always had to be the star of the show. Dick move, Ardin. Dick move.

The crystal's glow scattered into golden motes, drifting down like snowflakes spun from sunlight. The air itself seemed to warm, wrapping everyone in a comforting, intoxicating glow—a peace that felt like home.

The flakes gathered, swirling together like schools of fish in a deep ocean, circling Seraphina as she raised the staff higher.

Finn just stood there, utterly spellbound. 'Holy crap… this is hands down one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my entire life. Like… right up there with that time a prostitute offered me a free blowy—until I realized it was my teacher. Then she begged me not to tell anyone. I almost said yes, but decided against it. Didn't want STDs.'

He shook his head violently. 'Not the time, Finn. Not the time.'

Seraphina's soft lips parted, her voice carrying with a divine resonance:

"O Goddess, we art but sinners. I ask that You bless these young, fierce souls upon the battlefield—grant them strength, courage, and wits to strive toward victory under Your name. Bless them, and all who raise their arms in battle."

The golden motes rushed into the crystal all at once, swelling its brilliance until it blazed like a newborn star. With both hands, Seraphina raised the staff toward the heavens.

As Seraphina raised the staff high, the clouds above began to shift. Slowly, they parted like an ocean tide retreating before the heavens themselves.

A golden hue poured down onto the battlefield, drenching every man and woman who still stood against the monstrous horde. Some fought to defend the Sapient Kingdom. Others fought to reclaim homes already lost. And a few—mad or proud—fought simply for the thrill of it.

Her voice rose, clear and commanding, carrying over the chaos of battle.

"O Goddess! Bless them with Your strength. Let their blades be made pure as the angels' swords of Heaven! Let their courage burn bright as the sun, their mana flow pure as the moon, and let Your wrath fall upon all who embrace evil! Strip away their fear, dismay, and despair—fill them with judgment, courage, and the will to protect our people!"

The golden light intensified, wrapping around every soldier like a mantle of fire and faith. The creatures shrieked as their skin blistered and melted beneath the radiance, recoiling from its purity.

Seraphina thrust the staff higher, the crystal blazing until it seemed the battlefield had birthed a second sun. Darkness shriveled. Shadows ceased to exist.

"O Goddess! Bless those who bleed! Bless those who suffer in agony! Heal the wounded beneath Your light, and let them rise again with renewed strength!"

She leaned the staff forward. The heavens themselves seemed to answer. Golden particles rained down in great waves, cascading like divine snow, warm and brilliant.

"O Goddess! Let Your blessing be upon us!"

A bell rang out—unseen, unheard by the physical ear, yet resonant in every soul. Its toll marked judgment.

The air grew warm and holy. The golden motes sank into every human body, igniting them with light. Hopelessness, despair, and fear were torn away in an instant. Wounds closed. Spirits soared.

Each fighter felt reborn—souls burning like suns, hearts blazing with renewed resolve. Their weapons gleamed sharper than ever, their minds clear and unshakable.

And as one, the people of the battlefield found the will to rise again, ready to reclaim what was theirs.

***

The blessing's radiance washed through the battlefield like a tidal wave of divinity. Every man and woman screamed out, not in fear, but in triumph—crying out as though victory itself had descended with the light. Swords, staves, and bows shot into the air, their wielders roaring with renewed fury.

They surged forward. Creatures that once seemed unstoppable were cleaved apart, burned down, pierced through. The horde shrank beneath the onslaught of humans made gods by faith.

Finn was dumbstruck. The power coursed through him too, warm and pure, but… off. It was like being dragged to church by your grandma and kind of liking the free snacks, but still hating every second of it. He clenched his fist, staring at it with a twisted face.

'Why do I feel clean? Why do I feel like I can't even picture her tits right now? What is this?! Did she just… baptize my soul without my consent?!'

The light pulsed one final time, a golden flare answering the cries of the people before fading back into the heavens. Even those who hadn't stood near Seraphina felt it—the presence, the warmth. Their spines straightened, their wills hardened, and they swung blades like executioners hungry for justice.

And those close enough to witness Seraphina herself? They could only stare. Wide-eyed. Silent. As if they had glimpsed something divine and unreachable.

Seraphina Holywell. The Daughter born under the Church. She had lived up to every whispered legend.

Finn swallowed hard. He truly felt ashamed. Ashamed of every thought he'd had about her thighs, her chest, the way her lips moved when she pouted. All of it. Right now, she wasn't the cute priestess he wanted to flirt with—she was the embodiment of heaven's judgment.

'Damn it… I don't like this. I don't like this one bit! I'm not supposed to feel guilty, I'm supposed to be me! What the hell is happening to me?!'

His mind spiraled. He was stuck in some moral purgatory where lust couldn't breathe, but neither could purity fully win.

Meanwhile, Sophia—who had stood smug and bratty moments before—was silent. For once, her smirk had vanished. She didn't sneer, didn't mock. She only stared at Seraphina, lips parted, eyes wide. She felt something, but couldn't place it. Was it awe? Envy? Hatred? Admiration? Even she didn't know.

The brat who thought herself untouchable stood wordless before the priestess.

And in that silence, Finn realized something. His eyes narrowed. His fist clenched tighter.

'It all makes sense now..!'