Chapter 4:
The Great Saint
IN MY PAST LIFE, I was known as a “Great Saint.” It was a title of honor, granted to saints with the power to instantly heal all injuries, restore lost limbs, and cure nearly any illness imaginable. And for that entire lifetime, I was the only one to attain that title.
While I garnered respect as the Great Saint, the same could not be said for other saints. There were simply too many of us. Back then, more than half of all women were saints.
Unlike attack magic, healing magic required a pact with the spirits—and those spirits made pacts freely. Why? Well, ancient legends of the kingdom’s founding told of a figure known as the Spirit Lord. This Spirit Lord fell in love with a human girl, and their child became the ancestor of the royal family.
And so the spirits loved the kingdom and made pacts with its women. Humans and spirits lived in harmony; the humans loved, honored, and respected the spirits. In return, spirits lent power to the saints.
In my past life—my life as the Great Saint—I was the royal princess. As royalty, I could draw far more power from the spirits than others. Playing in the mountains and forests, I grew close to the spirits. People believed that they couldn’t speak, yet I heard their voices. And from their voices I learned the power of a saint: the power to heal and regrow limbs, to cure illnesses and brew healing potions for light wounds.
And that was only the beginning. They taught me the power to cure ailments like paralyzed limbs or a charmed mind; granted me the power to improve the speed and strength of a human body; taught me protection magics to ward off physical and magical attacks; showed me how to imbue magic properties into equipment; and finally, taught me the power to bottle all of these incredible abilities into potions.
After mastering these powers, I received the rare title of Great Saint…but there was no time to rest. A great demon lord threatened humanity, so I journeyed with my older brothers—the princes—to defeat him.
After an arduous battle, we succeeded in sealing the demon lord away…but I had no magic left in me after the fight. To use healing magic, you must combine your own magical power with the strength granted by the spirits.
I couldn’t use my power, and my brothers abandoned me.
“Look at you. What an eyesore. So full of yourself, just because they call you the Great Saint!” yelled my oldest brother, the first prince.
“Ha ha! Don’t you know you’re expendable? The kingdom is full of saints like you, all just as worthless,” laughed the second prince.
“Sorry, no triumphant return home for you,” the third prince snarled. “No, you’re going to be ripped to shreds by the demons here. In fact, you being a woman, I bet some really disgusting demons will have their way with you before they kill you. We’re the ones who bear the injuries and fight! All you do is stand in the back and cast magic. You deserve to die here.”
I could do nothing but lie there—magic expended, body drenched in sweat, heart pounding, fingers too heavy to even lift.
My three brothers, my own family, drank the advanced healing potions I’d given them earlier…and threw the empty vials down beside me. When they left, they did not look back.
I have to hide… I’d thought. I didn’t want to think what the demons would do to me, the one who sealed away their ruler. If I can just hide for a bit, I can recover some magic and heal myself, then maybe find a way out.
Those thoughts and more raced through my head as I crawled forward…and a foot stepped down on my hand. Despairing, I looked up to see a handsome demon gazing down on me. Demons hold beauty in proportion to their strength…and so, of course, my fate was now sealed.
I recognized the demon too; they called him the right hand of the demon lord.
He toyed with me, tormented me, taking due care not to let me die quickly. I was bound. He carved demon writing all over my skin, laughed scornfully, and hurled abuse as I struggled to break free.
“This is happening to you because you’re a saint.”
He despised the saint who’d sealed the demon lord away, so he reminded me, over and over, why he was torturing me. He seemed to love saying it.
“You’re toyed with because you’re a saint.”
“You’re tormented because you’re a saint.”
“You’re humiliated because you’re a saint.”
His words seeped into me like poison as he rained his cruelty down on me. I’d long since lost my grasp on time before I fully understood what he was telling me.
All of this was happening because I was a saint.
I was toyed with because I was a saint.
Tormented because I was a saint.
Humiliated because I was a saint.
And I’d be killed because I was a saint.
Only then did the demon finally kill me.