EXTRA:The yandere Villainess Is Obsessed With Her Special Servant-Chapter 35: Ra’s al Ghul’s Side Dish

While the chaotic pursuit raged outside, the guards looked on in disbelief; they never anticipated such mayhem. They knew they had to clear the girl’s name before she was slaughtered, fearing her vengeful spirit would return to haunt them. But the frenzied crowd was impenetrable.

Instead, they hurried to their chapel, pounding on the heavy doors until a young acolyte opened them.

"(Where is the Archbishop? We need him immediately!)"

The acolyte rubbed his sleepy eyes and pointed inward. "(He is in the Sanctuary... do not disturb him more than necessary.)"

The five guards—the architects of the original plan—rushed inside. The acolyte pulled the massive door open, stepping back as they entered. This chapel felt entirely alien to the primitive village; it was a bastion of civilization, adorned with polished marble, ornate doors, and sophisticated lighting.

Inside the Sanctuary, a man sat with a hunched back. He was clad in black and white vestments, topped with a jagged, serrated miter. A precious gemstone embedded in his attire shimmered under the moonlight, which filtered through the stained-glass windows, scattering crystalline reflections across the room.

Murals of angels blowing trumpets and plump, winged cherubs covered the walls. Before the kneeling Archbishop stood a towering, colossal tree that pierced through the ceiling, laden with vibrant red fruit. Hanging from its branches were human joints—pale, skeletal remains.

Skeletal fingers seemed to grow directly from the tree itself. On the grassy floor surrounding its roots lay a skull, its hollow sockets stuffed with the same gleaming stones that mirrored the Archbishop’s own eyes.

"(The defiant always come at moonrise to seek forgiveness...)"

The guards felt the weight of his words, his posture radiating a performative holiness. It seemed he already sensed the "forgiveness" they had come to collect.

God is always merciful at moonrise—they felt this scripture was tailor-made for their convenience. But then again, there was another text stating God is equally merciful at sunrise.

In fact, there’s a verse for God protecting in both cases, and another for God blessing in both cases. According to their holy book, there is no state where forgiveness, blessing, and divine protection aren’t overflowing for his followers.

Night or day... it didn’t matter. As the scripture says: the Deity is always available, always validating, and always excusing every single thing.

They wept. The mercy of their Deity was simply... unbelievable.

"(My Lord... we have sinned... I hid myself under the shroud of supplication... I am so ashamed... It was me... snif... without my comrades... I was so guilty and selfish...)"

The guard began to sob uncontrollably until the Archbishop approached, his face inches away, and gently wiped the tears from the man’s cheeks. The Archbishop lifted his head, reciting prayers while twitching his lips and biting them in a display of faux-anguish.

"(Do not make our Deity sad, my child... Our Merciful Deity grieves when He sees His followers drowning in guilt without an exit... Tell me without shame... You are all blessed for this conversation... Speak without malice... without lies...)"

A wave of relief washed over them.

"(It’s just... the scouts found a foreigner and brought him to the village. Since that... most ominous moment... one of us fell into sin. He felt greed... he wanted to feast upon the stranger without a Sacred Slaughter...)"

The Archbishop’s expression darkened instantly as he glared directly at the man.

"(Do you not know, my little one? This is a crime—do you hear me? A crime! First and foremost against your own self! Have you not heard me say it every day? Slaughters must be performed according to the Holy Way so the spirits do not seek vengeance! You have put your life at risk—no, you have put everyone’s life at risk!)"

The guards trembled violently.

"(Look closely... The Deity watches us, blesses us, forgives us... and protects us. Do His judgments mean so little to you? How ungrateful you are...)"

The Archbishop calmed himself, releasing a long, peaceful exhale and smiling once more.

"(Do not worry... dont worry... The Deity always loves those who confess their mistakes. I cannot intercede for you; you can only seek mercy while paying the price. Pray that He is merciful.)"

They understood exactly what he meant. They crawled toward the Tree, their heads bowed, writhing on the ground like worms.

"(Be thankful... wipe away your sins...)"

the Archbishop commanded.

The men repeated in a haunting chorus,

"(Be thankful... wipe away our sins...)"

The six men crawled until they reached the base of the Tree. They drew their sharpened daggers and sliced deep into their palms, letting their blood flow in a heavy, agonizing stream onto the roots.

While the fearful blood flowed from their hands, the Archbishop’s steps retreated as he walked toward the exit, sealing the doors behind him. Standing outside the Sanctuary, he uttered words in a tongue no one there could grasp:

"Love is life..."

He departed from the church entirely alone, accompanied by no one. In his hand, he gripped a staff, tapping it against the grass as if he were blind. He descended the hill, following the paths with his staff striking the ground in a strange, rhythmic precision.

Tap... tap... tap...

He followed the sound until he reached the place where the villagers’ roars echoed. He was getting closer.

"BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!"

As he approached the fringe of the crowd, someone noticed him. Immediately, those nearby fell to their knees in reverence.

"(My Lord... my Lord, praise be to the Deity! Praise the Voice! Praise the Call! We have found a witch... The Call has blessed us!)"

The name of their deity was "The Call."

The Archbishop looked at the villagers and offered a prayer.

"(Children of the Voice of Truth... this is a great bounty. Where did the shepherds find such livestock?)"

The villagers beamed with pride. "(My Lord... we were awakened by screams. We thought it was an intruder... but goodness often hides where we cannot see. Suddenly, everyone rushed out with their tools. When we asked why, they said they found an outsider... but it was far deeper than we imagined.)"

"BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!"

The Archbishop remained silent for a moment, observing their borderline insanity, then offered a thin smile. "(And where is she? Let me see her.)"

The villagers pointed the way. As he walked through the crowd, he noticed something peculiar: nearly a hundred men and women were injured and bleeding. He muttered a prayer for them and pressed on to the front.

It was a dead end. There stood a short man with pitch-black hair, dark eyes, and scattered strands of white. His face was etched with exhaustion and fatigue. Beside him stood two monstrous hounds, and cowering behind him was the girl they claimed was a witch.

Sam was beyond exhausted. After he and the girl had hit the dead end, the villagers had demanded he hand over the "Bitch," telling him not to be selfish. He had tried to fight back, but his physical weakness was apparent. In that moment of desperation, he felt the resonance of the Dungeon within his soul. He realized he could summon monsters, but at a staggering mana cost.

A system notification had flashed instantly: [New Core Skill Unlocked for ’The Optimal Servant’ / ’Dungeon Master’: Summon Dungeon Monsters]

But for every beast he pulled from the void, his mana plummeted. He was struggling to hold off hundreds of them at once.

Now, in the present, Sam glared fiercely at the Archbishop. He assumed no one could understand him, but he couldn’t stay silent.

"Damn you all! Damn your mothers, your fathers, and your ancestors! I’m warning you—if anyone else takes a step closer, I’ll drag you to hell with me, no matter the cost!"

The Archbishop listened to Sam’s English. He smiled, his gaze locking onto Sam’s.

"How are you?"

Sam felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of the Archbishop’s grotesque form. He was deeply disturbed by the creature’s presence, yet relieved to finally hear someone speaking English.

"Tell them to back off! I still have contact with the outside world. If I die, my comrades will find out, and you will all be annihilated!"

The Archbishop maintained his deeply unsettling smile. He reached out, spreading his five fingers in a calming gesture.

"Do not be hasty... do not be hasty. There has been a misunderstanding here. This girl shall never come to harm..."

Sam remained blissfully unaware that this very girl had intended to lure him into a trap. However, the Archbishop knew her true identity and was well aware that the accusation of witchcraft was a fabrication.

"Tell them that!" Sam barked. "This girl is under my protection. My name is... Ra’s al Ghul. I swear by this glorious name that no one shall lay a finger on her. Tell them exactly that!"

The Archbishop let out a chilling chuckle as he turned his back on Sam, addressing the villagers instead.

"(This foreigner is offering himself as an extra course alongside the witch... Do you all agree?)"

Sam had no clue what the Archbishop was saying, but he listened intently, hoping for a peaceful resolution.

"(But,)" the Archbishop continued, "(he has stipulated that he must stay with me for a full day inside our Holy Chapel, so that the Deity may forgive him before he becomes a meal.)"

The villagers roared in response.

"(No, my Lord! His meat looks poor! But if it’s the price for a witch’s flesh, tell him we agree!)"

"(I feel the foreigner’s meat will be too pale next to a witch... What if we cure him in salt and save him for another time?)"

As Sam watched the villagers’ murderous glares soften and saw them begin to retreat, a surge of hope filled his chest. He truly believed he had won.