After Ruina left the bar, silence fell over the table.
No one knew how to break the silence or what to say.
In that prolonged quiet, Dane finally spoke in a voice that seemed drained of energy.
“The person Ruina mentioned earlier… they’re probably…”
“Her husband, I suppose,” Olivia interjected, as if waiting for Dane to trail off.
Another silence followed.
“What did I even do to her…?” Dane muttered, ruffling his hair as he let out a deep sigh.
He recalled the words he had spoken when he first met Ruina. And he regretted them.
If he could, he wished he could rewrite the past.
‘I actually told someone who lost their husband in the war that sacrifices are necessary for the greater good?’
It was such a careless and cruel statement.
Even though she hadn’t shown it, he was certain she must have been deeply hurt.
Dane could tell. He knew all too well the pain of losing someone precious.
And because he understood that pain, he also realized how cutting his words must have been.
‘What must she have thought when she heard me say that?’
Did she think she would also become another sacrifice, just like her husband? Or perhaps she thought of her child before anything else.
Now that he thought about it, didn’t she always say she had to protect her child from the beginning?
And yet, he had coldly dismissed her plea.
The more he thought about Ruina, the heavier Dane’s heart grew.
He believed he deserved Ruina’s contempt. Even if he hadn’t known the full situation, he had still made an unforgivable mistake.
But despite all that, she had joined this journey without asking anything of him except for one thing.
All she asked was to let her bring her child along.
And how did he and the others respond to that?
They were displeased.
Olivia openly showed her dissatisfaction, and both Agnes and Dane harbored their own unspoken objections.
What could she have been feeling in that situation? Staying among people who resented her child while having to leave her child in a place that might be dangerous.
Dane kept blaming himself over and over.
Even though he knew the pain of losing something precious, even though he himself hadn’t been able to overcome it, he had hurt someone else.
He should have approached her with more respect. Even if he had hidden the reasons why she couldn’t join them, if they had discussed it further, a compromise could have been reached.
But he had been in too much of a hurry, too thoughtless, and hadn’t considered her perspective.
And this was the result.
“Damn it…” Dane sighed deeply.
“Don’t beat yourself up, Dane. What else could we have done? How could we disobey the Pope’s orders?” Olivia said, rubbing her reddened eyes.
“The Pope?” Bliss asked in confusion.
“That’s…”
“I’ll explain, Olivia,” Dane interjected, turning toward Bliss.
“When we went to the Holy See after completing the subjugation mission, the Pope instructed us to bring Ruina along for our future journey.”
“Why would the Pope…?”
“We’re not sure either. The Pope only said that she would be necessary for the journey ahead.”
“The Pope…”
Bliss pondered about the Pope she knew.
“By the way, who is that person exactly? Watching her today, she was incredibly skilled with those swords,” Olivia said, breaking the silence.
She recalled Ruina from earlier in the day, wielding dual blades and cutting through small sandworms with precision. That image left a strong impression on Olivia.
For someone who thought Ruina could only prophesize, the sight had doubled the shock.
“Her movements weren’t those of a novice,” Agnes added, recalling Ruina’s performance.
Though not flashy, her movements were efficient and restrained, and she didn’t flinch even as blood and flesh splattered.
Despite her appearance of someone who had never fought before, Ruina handled the swords like a seasoned fighter.
“Her husband was in the military, wasn’t he? Maybe he taught her,” Olivia speculated.
“That doesn’t seem right. Her style was entirely different from military swordsmanship,” Dane shook his head.
“Then are you saying she achieved that level of skill on her own? But why would a clergyperson train in swordsmanship to that extent in the first place?”
“No.”
While Olivia was overwhelmed by questions, Agnes spoke up.
“May I share my thoughts?”
“Huh? Go ahead.”
“I believe she might be a Lycan.”
“A Lycan? What makes you think that?”
Olivia tilted her head, puzzled by Agnes’s abrupt remark.
“There are a few things that caught my attention.”
“Like what?”
“Her swordsmanship… No, forget I said that. I must have misspoken.”
“Why stop halfway, Agnes? Just say it.”
“Because I’m not entirely sure yet. If it becomes certain that she’s a Lycan, I’ll bring it up again.”
“Of course, that’s so like you. How confident are you, though? At least tell me that.”
“I’m about 80% sure she’s a Lycan.”
At this, Olivia slammed her hand on the table and exclaimed.
“80%? That’s basically saying you’re sure she’s a Lycan! Fine, let’s say Ruina is a Lycan as you suggest. Then why doesn’t she have horns? Aren’t horns as vital as life itself to Lycans?”
Olivia recalled what Agnes had once told her about Lycans.
“If she really is a Lycan, then I suspect she’s been exiled,” Agnes replied calmly.
“Exiled?”
“Yes, in Lycan culture, it’s customary to remove the horns of someone before they’re exiled.”
“Exiled… Isn’t that only for criminals?”
Olivia questioned, but Agnes shook her head.
“Not necessarily. Some are exiled after losing power struggles. There are many reasons for exile beyond just crimes.”
Agnes poured herself a drink and continued.
“If Ruina truly is an exiled Lycan, her husband must have meant even more to her than we imagined. He would have been her pillar of support.”
“Why?”
Looking at Olivia’s quizzical expression, Agnes explained slowly.
“Exiled Lycans usually become solitary. No Lycan will offer help to one who has lost their horns. So exiles often hide their Lycan identity and live among humans—since they look most similar to them.”
“But even in human society, many Lycans feel isolated. While their appearances may be similar, Lycans and humans are fundamentally different. Small conflicts arise at first—habits, actions—but over time, bigger clashes occur, like differences in thoughts and values.”
“At each of these moments, Lycans are painfully reminded that they are not human. No matter how much they pretend, they can never truly become human.”
“Some can’t endure this and abandon human society altogether. They live in isolation, belonging nowhere, and eventually die alone. For a Lycan, exile is the harshest punishment.”
“Are you saying Ruina is in that situation right now?” Bliss asked cautiously.
Agnes shook her head.
“No, her case is more unique. It seems she found a suitable partner.”
“If an exiled Lycan finds someone truly compatible, the story changes. If they connect with a human who suits them, the Lycan no longer feels loneliness. Instead, their life revolves entirely around that person.”
“But there’s a major problem with this.”
Agnes hesitated, her expression uneasy.
“What happens if they lose that partner?”
“Most can’t endure it and end up taking their own lives.”
“What? Why?”
“They believe there’s no one left in the world who could ever understand or stay with them. It’s a tragedy born from how deeply they treasure that bond.”
Bliss, startled by Agnes’s words, spoke up.
“Wait a moment. If Ruina really is a Lycan, then when she mentioned considering something extreme earlier…”
“If she’s a Lycan, then yes, it would have been suicide.”
Silence.
As Agnes finished speaking, a heavy silence enveloped the group. Though none of them spoke, their expressions reflected their emotions—shock, pity, and grief.
“It seems she held on, though. Probably because of her daughter. She might have found solace in her bloodline, easing her loneliness… just a little.”
Agnes thought of Reina.
Reina, a girl around nine years old, was likely Ruina’s daughter. Several clues hinted at this connection.
First, they were inseparable, always treating each other with familiarity. And second, both Ruina and Reina shared white hair.
Reina’s white hair served as evidence of their relationship. It was far too rare to be a coincidence; most cases of white hair could only be explained through heredity.
White hair is inherited only through the genetics of parents with white hair.
“Then what if we were to ask her to leave her child behind?”
“She would refuse. She’ll do whatever it takes to bring her child along,” Agnes replied instantly to Olivia’s murmur.
“But we can’t possibly bring a young child on such a grueling journey, can we?” Bliss interjected.
“If we don’t, she might lose her mind. She wouldn’t be able to endure the loneliness. So, we must think carefully. This isn’t just about the child’s safety—it’s a significant issue that will impact her as well.”
Agnes’s words made everyone fall into contemplation.
Then, as if a question had suddenly struck her, Olivia spoke up.
“By the way, how do you know so much about this?”
“Did you forget what I am, Olivia?” Agnes replied.
Hearing this, Olivia thought back on what she knew about Agnes and her family. Then, as she recalled the Magnolia lineage, it dawned on her why Agnes was so knowledgeable.
“Oh… right, you’re royalty.”
Olivia remembered reading about Agnes’s family, the Magnolia family, in a book.
The Magnolia family was unique among the imperial lineages. They were the royal family of Draken, the kingdom of Lycans that had been destroyed by the empire 200 years ago.
And Agnes was a living witness from that time.
Given that she once led the Lycans, it made sense that she would know these things so well.
“Yes, even though that kingdom no longer exists… when it comes to Lycans, I know more than anyone. So, if she truly is a Lycan, my assumptions are likely correct.”
“Then there’s one thing I’m curious about. If she isn’t human, how was she chosen by God?” Olivia asked.
“I can explain that,” Bliss said, raising one hand slightly.
“God’s choice isn’t limited to humans. Dividing races by appearance and abilities is a distinction made in our mortal realm. To the Creator, all beings are equally His children.
What’s required to receive the blessing of Naias is nothing but pure faith. With unwavering faith, Naias bestows His power on anyone. It’s entirely possible that Ruina was chosen.
In fact, there are precedents. Among the past saintesses, some were of non-human races. Even now, there’s a Paladin who isn’t human.”
“I see…” Olivia nodded, processing the information.
When Bliss finished speaking, Dane let out a heavy sigh and turned to Agnes.
“So, what should we do? Bringing the child along makes it harder to protect them in dangerous situations. But if we don’t, it’ll cause issues for Ruina…”
Agnes crossed her arms and answered calmly.
“I think we should bring the child. The strongest demon lord among the Demon Tribe is already dead. All we’re doing now is mopping up the remnants. I don’t think we’ll face such dangerous situations moving forward.
Even if things get risky, she seems prepared to protect her child at all costs. And she appears to have the strength to back that up.”
“And Olivia?” Dane asked.
“Honestly, I’m not thrilled about it, but… if this is the situation, we don’t have much of a choice, do we? I agree. My initial objection was out of concern for the child’s safety. If the parent is willing to take that risk… I have no reason to oppose it,” Olivia admitted.
“What about you, Bliss?” Dane asked.
“I agree as well.”
With Bliss’s agreement, three of them were in favor. Now, the only opinion left was Dane’s own.
‘I’m the last one, huh…’ Dane thought.
He mulled it over and made up his mind.
There was no need to hesitate further.
“I agree too. So, we’re all in favor of taking Reina along, right?”
At Dane’s words, everyone nodded in agreement.
With the decision made, Agnes downed the drink she had poured earlier and set the glass on the table.
“Right now, that child is probably what keeps Ruina going. To keep her stable on this journey, we must do everything we can to ensure the child’s safety.”
“I’m confident we can manage. We’ve defeated the Demon Lord, after all. Protecting one child should be a piece of cake,” Olivia said with a smile, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Yes, and since we forced her to join us despite her reluctance, it’s only fair that we allow her to do what she wants,” Dane added with a wry smile.
“Now all that’s left is to inform Ruina about this. She said she’d be back after a walk, so should we just wait for her?”
“Someone should go fetch her. Who wants to? Or should I do it?”
“I’ll go.”
At Olivia’s suggestion, Bliss stood up and volunteered.
“Really? Then I’ll leave it to you.”
Bliss nodded slightly at Olivia’s words and headed outside.
After Bliss left to find Ruina, silence lingered at the table among the remaining three.
Each of them was lost in their own thoughts.
Ruina—the person they had hurt.
Their ignorance of her circumstances had led them to act rudely and cause her pain.
While they could claim ignorance as an excuse, it would be nothing more than a cowardly attempt to justify their failure to resolve things properly when they could have.
Now that they knew the truth, they couldn’t allow themselves such a justification.
They silently resolved to do everything they could from now on to heal the wounds they had inflicted on her.
After all, she was now a cherished companion who would be traveling with them.
They recalled the time they had spent with Ruina.
Though their journey together had not been long, her ability to suppress her dissatisfaction with them, her refusal to blame anyone regardless of the situation, and her selflessness in prioritizing others even in perilous circumstances made them understand why she was called a saint.
Each of them remained immersed in their own reflections about Ruina.
Their thoughts persisted until Bliss returned, bringing Ruina back with him.