“…Your powers were stolen.”
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“To say it was stolen is wrong. It was never mine to begin with,” the Saint said with a calm smile.
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“I merely gave back what was lent to me.”
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“Did you give it up yourself?”
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“Now that there’s no reason to have it, it’s natural to return it.”
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Vera heard her answer and couldn’t help but laugh.
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It was because he felt that some of his questions had been answered.
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‘She must have faked her death by her own will.’
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There was no question of ‘Why?’
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It was because if you knew the Saint, you could easily tell by looking at her peaceful face.
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“You must have been tired of war.”
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At the time when the Demon King vanished, if the Saint had been in her original position, the continent’s countries would have waged another war over the Saint.
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Why not? The Saint’s abilities were well worth it.
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The Saint must have wanted to avoid that situation, and her solution was to erase her existence.
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As he continued his thoughts, the Saint opened her mouth.
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The tone was a little muffled.
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“…You know a lot.”
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“So, are you going to kill me?”
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Vera asked and looked at the Saint.
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His body was in the worst possible condition. Even if the Saint strangled him right now, he wouldn’t have been able to resist at all.
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…To be honest, he had no regrets even if he were to die here. It was true that he lived a life deserving of death, and expected such a miserable end.
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Vera closed his eyes as he imagined the Saint reaching for his neck.
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At that moment.
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The Saint opened her mouth.
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“There is no reason to kill.”
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Vera frowned at the words he heard and opened his eyes. The Saint had a calm expression at the end of his gaze.
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“Why?”
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“Why do you think I will kill you?”
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“Wouldn’t it be a problem to have someone that knows who you really are?”
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“I just want you to keep your mouth shut.”
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“What if I’m going to spread the word?”
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“It would be unfortunate.”
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An answer that flowed like water. Vera studied her expression again, hoping to understand the Saint’s intentions, but couldn’t read any signs on her face, which was completely scarred from the burns.
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The silence continued, and when Vera didn’t answer after a long time, the Saint took a short breath and continued.
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“Calm down for now. You are ill.”
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“If you knew who I was, would you still be willing to treat me?”
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“Should I know?”
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“Things like that happen, too. Have you ever thought that the person the Saint healed might be a murderer who dices people into pieces?”
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“Then it would be very unfortunate, but I don’t have the courage to turn a blind eye to the sick. All I can do is pray that you are not a murderer.”
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After hearing that, Vera saw the Saint leaning her back against the wall of the shack, and he started laughing.
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The Saint pulled the rosary from her chest, gripped it tightly, and closed her eyes.
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The scene before Vera resembled a prayer.
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A sarcastic remark escaped his lips, and for no apparent reason, a stabbing pain in his stomach followed.
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“Saint, you certainly are faithful.”
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“…Renee.”
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“What?”
✦ ✦ ✦
“I’m not the Saint, I’m Renee.”
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To be so agreeable all the time, and yet she would surprisingly retort when it came to her name.
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Vera closed his eyes, thinking that the Saint was indeed a strange person.