Flowers! Murder!

Early on, the crown finds a pair of strange-looking gloves and demands to absorb them. Its weaponform changes from the familiar and comfortable sword to a pair of gauntlets, which... well...

"I hate these things," the Lamb complains. "They're weak and they have no reach."

But they feel so delicious to use!

"I don't care, I'm not using them again." She swipes at a flower growing at the edge of the clearing. "Is that enough, you think?"

The crown apologetically reminds her that it really has no point of reference for mortal wooing customs. Unless Amdusias would like some lovely mind control—

"No." Onward.

The cultists of the Darkwood are indeed harder to fight now, both physically and emotionally. The Lamb grumbles about the annoyingly hard-to-use gauntlets partly as a cover for a foul mood that she knows is not really gauntlet-related. She could've left these people alone! They're not on her side, but they're not her main targets and they're not on her way to her main targets. She's basically just doing all this murder for completely frivolous purposes. Except, are they frivolous purposes? If she has a breakdown because she couldn't provide flowers for her lovestruck cultist, will the One Below decide she's not up to scratch and eat her next time it drags her down to its misty realm?

But on the other hand, does the One Below have any better options or is she its last chance? On the other hand, even if she is its last option, what kind of guarantee does she have that it won't find some way, perhaps not murder, but a comparably nasty punishment, if she doesn't live up to its cynical ideals of cult-leaderly behaviour?

The next clearing contains an enormous bonfire with some unsettling red scraps scattered at its base, and a... mothfolk? If this person is any kind of folk, moth is definitely the kind.

"Peace be with you, Crusader, I seek only the truth and the light. But I may be of service to you."

"...hi," she says guardedly.

"I can increase the Loyalty of one of your Followers - any that you choose. Simply summon them before me, and it will be done."

Wait, can she do that? Crown? Can she do that??

Her crown happily demonstrates that she can do that by pulling Valefar out of the ground.

Before the Lamb can protest, the mothfolk raises all four of their arms and dances a strange, graceful dance.

Valefar's expression of terror and confusion glazes over into a beaming smile.

—no, crown, the thing is, you should've picked someone else because Valefar has particular reason to be upset about appearing in strange places all of a sudden by magic—

The crown apologetically pockets them. The Lamb grudgingly accepts this.

"My work is done," the moth intones. "That fool would follow you into the deepest darkness from whence no one returns."

The One Below is watching.

She cannot express her actual feelings about this out loud.

"Thanks," she grits out, and stalks off into the forest.

In the place where the Big Monster normally is, instead of any of the Big Monsters she's previously fought and converted, there is a GIANT FLOATING PURPLE ORB WITH TOO MANY EYES.

It floats!! It floats and all she has are these stupid murder hands!!! How can she be expected to defeat the Eyeball Thing with her stupid murder hands???

Okay. Calm down. Approach this methodically. Use curses.

The Eyeball Thing seems to have a habit of making several friends pop out of the ground and then vanishing until she's killed them all.

Still doable, if annoying.

Sometimes there's a lot of friends.

"—I am never using the stupid useless murder hands again—"

There. Done.

And at last the Eyeball Thing shrinks down into the shape of a person, who falls to their knees and looks up at her pleadingly.

With a heavy sigh, she pockets them.

At least she has, like, upwards of two dozen camellias. No one could possibly accuse her of having insufficient camellias. She is going to shower Amdusias in camellias and they're going to give them to Gusion and then, who knows, she's never met someone who was in love before, but she's heard enough distant rumours to feel very wistful about the whole thing.

So, homew—

Her crown nudges her back toward the place where the Eyeball Thing fell, and lying on the ground there is a Thing Eyeball. It looks creepy. Her crown insists on pocketing it and she doesn't feel up to arguing.

So, now homeward?

Not quite!

She takes a deep breath and tries to, one, control her temper, and two, pretend that her temper is mostly about the stupid useless murder hands.

"Vessel, do you not worship me? Do you not give offerings in hopes of gaining my favour?"

Uh wait what.

"When you return to your Cult you shall find a new Offering Chest. There you can provide offerings that I, in my generosity, shall turn to gold, so that you might strengthen the Cult."