Crow is an immortal saint who looks like a monster and sometimes acts like one. She has wings, red eyes, and the weary patience of someone who has watched empires rise, fall, and rebrand. She arrives in a small village with a local monster problem. The monster, known as the Woman in the Hills, lives under a large magnolia tree and eats hunters. This arrangement has been going on for some time. The villagers are not thrilled, exactly, but they’ve adjusted. Crow has already fought so called Great Adversaries and so she accepts to slay the monster. The confrontation doesn’t go as planned.

Magnolia is a chatty severed head attached to a tree. She finds the one crack in Crow and pries it open. The dynamic between them works incredibly well. Magnolia chatters, taunts, philosophizes while Crow mostly endures. Sometimes she pushes back, but sometimes she can’t. She also wants to do the least harm possible, but the story keeps forcing her into situations where harm is unavoidable. 

I like Hiyodori’s writing, but sometimes I wish she condensed things more. There are long stretches of conversation between Crow and Magnolia that are conceptually interesting but start to circle the same ideas of power, choice, mortality, and what it means to be a saint. The philosophical back-and-forth feels overextended. 

The worldbuilding is intriguing but not fully explored. We hear about the other Great Adversaries, the long decline of the world, the strange ecology of monsters and saints. It’s compelling in outline, but much of it stays offstage. This keeps the story focused, which is good. It also makes the setting feel a touch abstract.

That said, the book makes two near-omnipotent beings arguing on a hill feel tense. Their conflict is about who understands the other’s weaknesses first. I’ll add that Magnolia is a great antagonist because she’s not frothing with rage. She’s amused. Curious. Almost affectionate in a warped way. Crow’s quiet fury and Magnolia’s gleeful prodding create a steady, uncomfortable tension. 

Emotionally, the book feels heavy. It’s about grief that never quite fades. About living so long that loss becomes sediment. If the book has a weakness, it’s that its pace can feel flat in the middle. The stakes are clear, but the story sometimes pauses to explain things rather than letting events reveal them. 

Overall, Carrion Saints is a strong Dark Fantasy that keeps things personal and intriguing throughout. It’s also my second book by Hiyodori and I’m becoming a fan.