Chapter 153 – The Saintess and Her Guardian (31)

Ｒｅａｄ ｏ​ｎ ＫａｔＲ​ｅａｄｉｎｇＣａｆｅ

[How dare you push me away…!?]

A harsh, grating voice, like metal scraping against metal, echoed in her mind, starkly different from the angel’s serene tone.

Cecilia instinctively knew. This was the voice of the demon who had seized control of her body and wounded Gray.

The voice crushed Cecilia from within, pressing down on her ruthlessly.

An inexplicable impulse.

Ragged breathing.

A scorching heat spreading up her neck, mingling with pain.

Countless other symptoms assaulted her, trying to wrench her body away from her.

But Cecilia had no time to react to the voice or the changes wracking her body.

Because the shadow that had always shielded her from the world’s harsh light—Gray—was fading away.

Like a bird that had lost its wings. Like an apple falling from a tree.

Her eyes could only chase after him as he plummeted faster and faster toward the ground.

[I… GYAAHH!?]

“Mister…!!!”

She couldn’t hear what the voice muttered.

Folding her skeletal wings, Cecilia threw herself forward, desperate to save him.

Even as she accelerated into a steep dive, the distance between them barely closed.

If this continued, Gray would hit the ground—beyond saving. The thought terrified her.

“Angel!”

[I will assist you.]

Feathers sprouted from her skeletal wings, soon radiating a brilliant light.

With the angel’s aid, Cecilia descended even faster, closing the gap between them.

“Just a little more…!”

There wasn’t much time left before impact. She had to hurry.

When she was barely a hand’s breadth away, she finally managed to grab his remaining hand and pull him into her arms.

Her wings wrapped around him, bracing for the collision.

CRASH!!!

“…!?”

Even with holy protection, pain swallowed her whole—so intense she couldn’t even scream.

Her eyes squeezed shut, but she could feel herself tumbling violently, agony flaring in every part of her body.

None of that mattered.

Because she had saved him.

“Mister!”

Tossing aside blood-matted strands of hair, she hastily retracted her wings and lifted him with numb arms.

He didn’t seem injured from the fall, but with his severed arm and lower half gone, his condition was dire.

“Angel, heal him!”

If he wasn’t treated now, he wouldn’t make it.

Cecilia, who had mended limbs countless times before, called out to the angel in desperation.

“Mister, just hold on. I’ll heal you right away.”

She stretched out her arms, ready to channel holy energy—but only her wings shimmered brilliantly. No holy power flowed. No angelic voice answered.

Five seconds. Ten. Thirty.

No matter how long she waited, only restless dread crept into her fingertips.

By now, he should have been fully healed. Awake.

“Angel…? Please, heal him. If you don’t, he’ll…”

Her voice trembled as she searched for the angel’s presence.

Yet the angel remained silent, only flickering its halo… The glowing silence turned her unease into terror.

[Cecilia. The Guardian is dead. Recovery is no longer possible.]

‘Dead?’

‘Mister…?’

[He suffered fatal blood loss and critical injuries. His death was confirmed the moment you awoke.]

“Don’t joke around! Why would he die…!?”

She grabbed the halo violently, furious at the angel for delivering such a truth.

[Cecilia.]

“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP…!”

She couldn’t accept it.

Gray remembered their promise. He wouldn’t leave her behind so irresponsibly.

Besides, he was still looking at her, right…?

“Gray?”

Cautiously, she examined his pupils.

Though she thought he was staring at her, his gaze was unfocused.

His unblinking eyes were dark, like the abyss she had just escaped from.

For a moment, she shuddered, as if he had been dragged into that darkness in her place.

Her small, trembling hand touched his cheek.

No warmth.

Cold. Pale.

Instinctively, she assessed his condition.

Wounds everywhere.

Two scarred holes on his neck.

His severed arm and waist no longer bled, instead, a watery substance trickled out like a spring.

Had it been anyone else, she might have turned away in disgust.

Yet Gray remained, a faint smile frozen on his lips, as if to reassure her.

That smile, so tender, finally shattered the dam holding back her tears.

“Ugh… G-Gray, no… NOOO—!”

Reality crashed over her like a tidal wave.

Clutching his lifeless body, she screamed—a sound too broken to even be a sob.

She tried to cover his severed lower half with a wing, but the liquid seeped through the gaps.

Why did this happen?

Why did Gray have to die?

She retraced her steps.

If she had listened to him and not chased after him. If she hadn’t made him her guardian. If they had never made that promise…

Each thought felt like a nail driven into her heart, each one her fault.

The weight of “what if” crushed her.

“Please…”

[The dead cannot be revived. It is beyond my authority. Without His permission, it is impossible. Unless a miracle occurs…]

[Give me your body. If you do, I will bring your Guardian back!]

The angel’s cold, merciless voice overlapped with another, warm, gentle, and unfamiliar.

The offer to revive Gray was tempting, but it wasn’t the ending he would have wanted.

Cecilia ignored both voices and held him tighter.

“Ugh… God! Please…!”

Countless tears streamed down Gray’s face.

A few drops even slipped into his eyes, pooling at the corners.

“I don’t need to be a Saintess. Take the angel too. I’ll live as a beggar for the rest of my life if I have to.”

She prayed desperately.

No clasped hands. No reverence. Just a raw, unfiltered plea.

“You don’t have to keep your promise…! I’ll die in his place if I have to!!!”

She screamed.

A life without Gray meant nothing.

Not the title of Saintess. Not their promise. Not her own existence.

Even if she had to die, she wanted him to live.

“So please… just save him… Ugh… Waaah…”

Perhaps it wasn’t even a prayer.

Just a broken scream—so loud her voice cracked, leaving only her sobs echoing across the vast plains.

Cecilia’s shoulders shook uncontrollably.

Her tears pooled at the corners of his eyes before rolling down his cheeks and splattering onto the ground.

[Truly, truly, I say unto you: Pray. Without faith, no true fruit shall bloom. Love blossoms upon faith, and devotion bears fruit upon love.]

Beneath her two pairs of wings, a third—small and delicate—sprouted. The same wings that had helped her escape the abyss.

With each shuddering breath, fueled by her prayers, they grew… until they dwarfed the other two.

“Huuu… WAAAAH…!”

Unnoticed by Cecilia, who still wept into Gray’s chest, the three pairs of wings resonated.

Pulsing like a heartbeat, they unleashed a wave of holy energy—radiating light so intense it illuminated the world despite the absent sun.

And at its center stood Cecilia.

Her once-faded hair turned fully white as the three wings enveloped her and Gray.

The light stretching into the sky took shape—a figure too sacred, noble, and kind to be merely an angel. It embraced Cecilia.

A miracle.

A miracle for one person alone.

The miracle seeped into Gray through Cecilia’s tears.

The light that had brightened the world condensed into a single point—breathing life back into his eyes.

As darkness reclaimed the plains, a rough, calloused hand stroked Cecilia’s disheveled hair.

“Hic…! Gray…?”

A touch she could never forget.

A gentleness only one person could give.

Still sobbing, she slowly lifted her head at his prompting.

“Kid. Why are you crying? And you’re getting snot all over my clothes…”

The Gray who had been limp in her arms just moments ago—the Gray whose lifeless eyes had terrified her, whose lips had frozen in a smile—

Now looked at her with vibrant concern, as if by a miracle.

His arms were whole again. His missing lower half restored. He even carefully wiped her tear-streaked face.

“Gray…!”

“W-Wait—!”

Unable to contain her emotions, she threw herself into his arms.

She wouldn’t have cared if they tumbled across the ground.

“Gray, Gray! Gray…!”

She called his name over and over.

Because it was a miracle, a miracle she had created to save him. Through tears of joy, a smile bloomed.

“Stop crying. Your face is ugly enough as it is.”

“No! I’ll cry if I want! Do you know how much I suffered because of you!?”

“Cut me some slack. I suffered too, you know.”

Amid their meaningless bickering, Cecilia felt him.

The strong heartbeat. The warmth. The hands that existed solely for her.

With steady fingers now, she clutched his collar—as if to protest, “Don’t you dare leave me again!”.

“Don’t even think about leaving me. Got it? From now on, we’re together till death!”

“Sigh… What’s so great about an old man like me…?”

She didn’t answer his usual grumbling.

Instead, she gave him a response clearer than words.

“…!?”

Her small lips pressed against his rough ones.

She cupped his face tightly, ensuring he couldn’t escape, and stared into his bewildered eyes.

A second felt like decades.

For both Cecilia and Gray.

When she finally pulled away, her lips—clumsy and inexperienced—quivered shyly.

“…We promised.”

“…….”

A promise.

He had thought it was just the childish vow of a brat who would forget someday…

But seeing Cecilia’s flushed face peeking up at him shyly, Gray felt his heart race for the first time.

The little girl he once knew was gone. In her place stood a woman in love, an angel.

How could he even ask why?

Their lips drew close again.

Both of them.

No hesitation this time.

The three pairs of wings wrapped around them.

Ensuring no one could interfere.

As dawn broke, the darkened plains gradually filled with radiant light.