Via stood in Belon’s study, head bowed, nervously clutching the hem of her saintess robe, not daring to lift her gaze, trying desperately to quiet her breathing.
The massive black bookshelves beside her loomed in the dim room like a mountain, pressing down until she could barely breathe.
“…”
Belon sat behind his desk, the room’s sole oil lamp illuminating his ever-shifting expression as he silently observed Via’s every move.
“Bishop-sama… do you have any instructions?”
After returning to the Holy Land, Via had come to the bishop’s study.
Sophie had wanted to accompany her, but Belon had sent her away with an excuse.
Via truly hoped tonight would be like every other—Belon scolding her a bit before letting her go.
“Via.”
As Via’s thoughts wandered, Belon spoke her name, stood, and paced the room without a footstep, like a ghost.
“Bishop-sama, is something wrong?”
Via responded but kept her head down, still avoiding his gaze.
“You are Sylvia’s daughter, the saintess candidate bearing everyone’s hopes—”
Smack.
Suddenly, a small cat was thrown to the floor in Via’s view, startling her.
“Meow…”
The cat let out a weak, pained cry; crimson blood flowed from its body, spreading across the floor.
Its throat had been slit.
Via looked up in horror at the expressionless Belon, eyes wide.
Belon issued his command in a cold tone.
“As a descendant inheriting the saintess bloodline, use healing magic to treat this creature’s wound and save its life.”
“Meow…”
The cat cried for help again, casting a pleading gaze at Via, clearly seeing the pink-haired girl as its lifeline.
“If you don’t act soon, it will die,” Belon reminded. “It’s waiting for you to save it.”
“O-Okay…!”
Via couldn’t bear to watch the cat die before her.
She knelt, assuming a prayer pose, trying to mobilize the holy power within her body to cast the most basic healing spell.
Magic was the world’s fundamental energy, present in all things; clerics’ uniqueness lay in converting magic into holy power through faith in the gods, thus casting holy arts with unique effects.
Yet Via’s own magic was pitifully scarce, conversion to holy power extremely difficult, let alone casting spells.
As the daughter of the perfect saintess Sylvia, she had inherited none of her talent, worse than an ordinary nun—this was why she was constantly criticized.
“O gods above, I beg you, bestow a miracle!”
Via clasped her hands, praying desperately, but couldn’t summon even a trace of holy power; fine sweat beaded on her forehead.
The cat’s breathing grew fainter, soon to vanish from the world.
“Sniff… sniff…”
Via’s voice carried sobs; crystal tears overflowed, sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto the cat.
Suddenly, soft light enveloped the cat; holy power wrapped its wound, stopping the bleeding and healing it.
“Could it be!?”
Via was stunned—had a miracle truly descended?
She, who couldn’t use holy power, had finally awakened under pressure, able to save lives like her mother.
She hurriedly looked up, joyfully wanting to tell Belon, but her pink pupils contracted sharply, her body trembling.
The hope that had just risen turned to shattering despair.
“How disappointing.”
Belon’s raised hand surged with sacred golden light.
The one who had healed the cat was him.
Not Via summoning a miracle.
“Do you know what you did tonight?”
Belon no longer suppressed his anger.
“Thanks to my efforts, we could have secured vital aid from the imperial family, further expanding our influence, but your existence made His Majesty dissatisfied and cast doubt on the Holy Land.”
“I…”
Via recalled the evening’s events.
Her performance, the nobles’ evaluations, the emperor’s attitude… each suffocated her.
“The saintess’s daughter, yet unable to use even healing magic! The most basic of basics—if not for your bloodline, you wouldn’t even qualify to set foot in the Holy Land! But you’re like an unignorable stain on white cloth, affecting the Holy Land’s legitimacy and hindering deeper cooperation with the empire!”
Belon slammed the desk, knocking the oil lamp down; it rolled to Via’s feet with a clatter.
He nearly cursed—because of Via, his plans were nearly ruined.
“Bishop-sama, I can learn… I’ll master healing magic…”
Via tried to defend herself, but it felt so feeble.
“Learn?” Belon sneered. “Sophie could use healing magic at three years old. You? Still can’t.”
“Big sister…”
Via admired and envied her sister.
She had perfectly inherited their mother’s talent, displaying unmatched excellence from childhood, earning high praise.
Before Sophie, Via was like an ugly duckling.
“If Sylvia had only one child, perhaps everything would be different,” Belon’s words cut sharp. “Your disappearance would be best for everyone.”
“I’m… not needed…”
Via felt hammered, swaying.
The crushing pressure nearly made her faint; the world spun, waves of extreme chaos assaulted her, even hallucinations appeared.
She seemed to stand before a pitch-black throne, looking down arrogantly at those kneeling below.
“If you know what’s good for you, I can arrange a respectable place for the rest of your life, making you vanish forever from public view, causing no more trouble—”
Belon continued pressuring Via.
Hearing this, nameless anger surged in Via’s heart; her dazed eyes seemed to sense something, turning toward the study’s window, where the glass again reflected the mysterious demon.
The young demon boy opened his mouth and spoke a sentence.
For some reason, Via’s lips moved unconsciously; using an utterly arrogant tone completely unlike herself, she hurled a statement that stunned Belon on the spot.
“Insolence. Who are you to lecture this king?”
I love when they say ts “This Lord” yessir