At the host’s signal, all of us candidates still remaining dashed towards our selected paladin to begin the process of administering healing. The delicate balance between healing efficiency and magical throughput meant that most candidates went for white or blue bracelets. Red bracelets, though valuable, were liable to drain away too much time and power to be viable as strategic choices, and thus they were largely left alone. I was right alongside the majority, quickly approaching a paladin with a blue bracelet, one who stood directly before me.
Flashing him a reassuring smile, I asked, “Would you mind?” My hands hovered above the deep slash that marred his left arm. He gave a brisk nod and murmured a soft “please,” at which I smiled with grateful acquiescence.
I closed my eyes, channeling the swirling energy within me towards my palms. The mystic channels inside me, those fragile conduits for arcane energy, blazed with pain. Fiery discomfort seared through my chest and arms. It was almost unbearable, yet I suppressed the urge to cry out, letting only a faint grunt escape my clenched lips.
I had hoped for some degree of recovery after the first trial, but that had clearly been wishful thinking. The agony had intensified, and with this only being the beginning of the second trial, I knew that there was plenty of time for it to escalate.
Such unhopeful thoughts, however, were irrelevant; defeat was not an option. “I cannot...afford...to fail!” I whispered through clenched teeth. Despite every fiber of my being screaming for reprieve, I persevered, forcing out that mystical energy within me, converting it into magic and life force, then flesh and blood. After thirty excruciating seconds, the paladin stood healed, his vitality restored, while I felt diminished, as if parts of me had been carved away.
“Hoh hoh!” he exclaimed with vigor, while I slumped, overwhelmed by fatigue. The archbishop’s lackey was right. The Forbidden Technique extracts a dire toll. This was death by a thousand cuts, each expenditure of arcane energy accumulating increasingly grim side effects. Yet its power was undeniable; without it, I could never have healed a wound of such severity.
My limbs grew icy, my blood seeming to retreat towards my core. Battling dizziness and overwhelming lethargy, I forced myself to remain upright.
The paladin, noting my labored breathing, showed a flicker of concern before quickly masking it. “I thank you, Lady Flora. My arm is fully restored.” He removed his bracelet and extended it towards me. “Here, your prize.”
“Th...thank you,” I managed to gasp out, clutching the bracelet. Under normal circumstances, I might have offered a more eloquent response, or at least maintained my poise as the perfect lady, but such pretenses were far beyond my current capacity.
Standing there, it took every ounce of my strength just to maintain the facade that I was still worthy of this stage.
Unexpectedly, the paladin’s voice broke through the fog of my pain. “Forgive my forwardness, milady, but are you feeling quite all right? You appear rather pale.”
I lifted my gaze wearily to meet his, his face now deeply etched with the genuine worry I had glimpsed a moment ago. Now it had intensified considerably.
“As a humble volunteer in these sacred trials, it is perhaps not my place to offer you counsel,” he continued in a low voice, “but I feel I must say it all the same: I would implore you to consider withdrawing. The pallor of your complexion is...unnatural. Perhaps you should seek medical attention before it’s too late.”
I smirked internally. Before it’s too late, you say? Alas, it is already too late for me, my dear paladin—and it has been for some time. The moment I had swallowed the archbishop’s pill, my fate had been sealed. No, even before that—when I had agreed to enter these trials, I became a dead woman walking. I might collapse tomorrow or perhaps a week from now, but sooner rather than later, I would be freed from this mortal coil...for this was the price of power.
To me, there was only one thing that was worth such a sacrifice, and that was to eclipse my sister Carolina one last time. Before I departed this world, my deepest desire was to leave an indelible mark on Carolina’s heart. I wanted to see her brought to her knees, compelled to acknowledge my supremacy and admit her insignificance, even if she had obtained the so-called blessing of God himself.
She needs to recognize herself as the disgrace she is. Carolina must be forced to see my strength, to witness my defiance. She had to understand that her very existence was a blight on everything I cherished. That it should have been Mother who had survived, not her. Carolina needed to suffer for what she had taken from me, and there would be no better way to do that than to ensure she understood that she was no better than the dirt she trod upon. I would have the last laugh, no matter the cost.
I clenched my fists tight, feeling a tumultuous surge within me. What was this overwhelming emotion? Too reckless to be revenge, too intrinsic to be mere resentment—it was something far more dire and violent, beyond easy description. Then it dawned on me: perhaps this was the natural state for a woman with nothing left to lose. If so, then oh, how liberating it felt to revel so openly in my darkest emotions.
Facing the paladin, I forced a smile through the pain. “Your concern is most appreciated, but I assure you, I am perfectly fine. A bit anemic, perhaps, but nothing that will impede my performance in the trials. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
With that blatant lie and a slight nod of my head, I left the paladin’s side and began scouting for my next target. Winning the trials required safe and strategic choices, which means another blue or white bracelet, but the urge to utterly humiliate and humble Carolina burned within me. I needed something more—something red.
At one corner of the stage, three red-braceleted paladins stood seemingly abandoned, their limbs wrapped in gauze and fortified with plaster. As I strode towards them, I began gathering energy in my palms. “Excuse me,” I called, “you three knights over there—do you need a hand?”