🔊 TTS Settings
𖹭 Chapter 1 𖹭
The divine power that had suddenly appeared when she was eight vanished just as suddenly one day when she turned twenty.
It had already been two years since she began hiding the loss of her power.
And now, the end of that lie was approaching.
“Are you truly alright, Saintess?”
A shadow fell across the face of the holy knight, Lato, who knew the truth.
Helicia answered calmly.
“Don’t worry.”
“But…”
Lato couldn’t continue. No matter what he said, nothing would change.
“Your divine power will return soon.”
At his clumsy attempt at comfort, Helicia lifted her head and replied lightly,
“It won’t. So you don’t need to comfort me.”
“Please don’t say such things. To me, there is only one Saintess—Lady Helicia.”
Helicia gave a small smile.
“That’s exactly the problem—there’s only one Saintess.”
“…Pardon?”
“I just mean… if it’s a god, shouldn’t they be more generous? Instead of giving power to only one person, wouldn’t it be better to spread it around for the good of the world?”
Lato nodded as if he understood.
Helicia plucked a single flower that had stubbornly bloomed even in winter.
A cold wind swept through the empty garden.
Because of the long war, all the priests and clerics had long been sent away to treat the wounded.
As if aware of her situation—or perhaps not—the temple was quiet, filled with a strange tension.
She absentmindedly plucked petals off the flower.
After a while, she looked up at Lato and smiled brightly.
“I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
“What do you mean by that…?”
Before he could finish, the sound of trumpets echoed through the sky.
Two long notes.
Victory.
And the fact that the sound had reached the temple meant—
“Saintess! Saintess!”
A high priest came running in panic.
“Prince Arpessian, the Third Prince, has been gravely wounded in battle! His Majesty orders that the Saintess be brought immediately!”
At those words, Lato stepped forward, shielding Helicia.
“That is not possible. Her condition is weak—she cannot receive visitors.”
The high priest shook his head.
“He’s on the verge of death! If the prince dies, forget funding—the entire temple, including the Saintess, will lose their heads!”
“Then call another cleric.”
“Are you serious right now? People are already whispering that the temple is cursed because the Saintess hasn’t appeared for two years!”
The meaning was clear.
They had hidden her for two years—now it was time to discard her.
Still, Lato did not move.
“My duty is to protect the Saintess.”
Helicia looked at his back.
The same temple that wanted to throw her away…
and yet someone from that same temple stood protecting her.
How strange.
She gently pushed aside Lato’s arm.
“Lead the way.”
“Saintess!”
Lato’s face twisted.
Because he knew.
If Arpessian survived, it might be different—
but if he died, her death would be inevitable.
A Saintess without divine power was considered cursed.
Execution was the law.
And if the prince died, all blame would fall on her.
“Ah, as expected of the Saintess!”
The high priest smiled brightly.
The path to death was strangely beautiful.
As she walked, Helicia spoke without turning back.
“If it’s too hard to watch, you can wait here, Lato.”
“…I will follow you.”
At the center of the temple, royal knights and High Priest Verdic were arguing.
“What do you think the authority of the High Priest means?!”
“The Saintess exists to save lives! How can she refuse when a royal life is at stake?!”
“Didn’t I say I would gather the best priests?!”
“Do you truly think that would be enough?!”
Behind the shouting knight—
A man drenched in blood.
Red hair like blood itself.
And wounds that spilled fresh crimson onto the floor.
His breathing was shallow.
His hand pressed tightly against his abdomen.
Helicia stepped forward without hesitation.
“Prepare a place to lay His Highness down.”
Verdic hesitated.
“You must have come out because of the commotion. Please return.”
“You know this isn’t something you can stop.”
At her firm tone, he fell silent.
Inside the room, the metallic scent of blood filled the air.
Helicia looked down at the man gritting his teeth.
Arpessian Estar, the Third Prince.
The future of the empire.
Even covered in blood, his tall, sturdy frame had not lost its presence.
She pressed both hands against his wound.
A sharp groan escaped him.
Golden eyes glared at her.
“What… are you doing?”
“Stopping the bleeding. I’ve done this quite a few times—I’m pretty good at it.”
“Saintess… your divine power…”
“Ah, you’re looking for that.”
She tore cloth with her teeth and answered casually,
“Unfortunately, I lost it a long time ago.”
“So… this is where your life ends too, Your Highness.”
“What… nonsense…”
“Seems like you’re hearing things from blood loss.”
He tried to speak, but only groans came out.
Even royalty was powerless before death.
Helicia pressed harder on his wound.
His golden eyes began to lose focus.
She looked at her blood-soaked hands and spoke quietly,
“You might not believe this, but I really did try to save you.”
“But it never worked.”
“…Then… that’s enough…”
Despite his rough tone, he seemed calm.
She gave a bitter smile.
“I’d like to pray for your peace… but since a god created this outcome, I have nothing to say.”
“I’m sorry… and I’ll see you again soon.”
With those words—
Arpessian, dyed in red, died within the temple.
Blamed for his death, the Saintess was declared cursed.
All resentment fell on her.
Even the devastation of war became proof that the gods had abandoned the continent.
And so—
she was executed before the public.
This was already the seventeenth time.
As her breath faded, her vision turned white.
Was this fate truly unchangeable?
Watching someone die before her, again and again—
It never got easier.
She even began to feel a strange sense of camaraderie with Arpessian.
“If I have to die, at least I get a companion?”
What kind of twisted humor was this?
Each time she regressed, the gods granted her one ability.
The problem was—
she had to figure out what it was herself.
“This time… give me something useful.”
Light engulfed her.
Her breath returned in a gasp.
“The Saintess has been born!”
“The Saintess has appeared!”
When she opened her eyes—
People knelt before her.
Worshipping.
She had returned.
To that day—
when an orphan wandering the back alleys at eight years old first received divine power.
Her 18th regression.
“Saintess, my son is sick—please save him!”
“My father is dying—please!”
The same people who would one day blame her now begged for salvation.
Helicia clenched her worn clothes tightly.
Riiip—
They tore.
“…Huh?”
She stared at the ripped cloth.
This wasn’t from wear.
People gasped.
“Is it a miracle?!”
“No! It was already torn—I just—”
“Ahh! As expected of the Saintess!”
No, don’t believe that!
Priests from the temple rushed toward her.
“Saintess! Please come with us—!”
Helicia turned and ran.
“Go back to the temple? Not a chance.”
She darted through alleyways with ease.
Even when knights chased her—
she crawled through narrow gaps.
“Saintess! We mean no harm!”
They climbed over walls to follow.
Everyone was out of breath.
Except her.
Her body felt light.
She grabbed a wall to turn—
CRACK.
A chunk broke off in her hand.
“…What?”
She tried again.
CRUMBLE.
“…Wow.”
She crushed it further in her grip.
That’s when she realized—
This strength… wasn’t normal.
A slow grin spread across her face.
With this power… she might finally end it.
No more Saintess.
No more fate.
A free life.
“God—please keep your head safe.”
Helicia smiled brightly.
“In this life… I choose strength.”
