Chapter 133 – The Saintess and Her Guardian (11)

Яεαԁ οṅ Κɑț​Ｒ​ҽɑ​ⅾɩɴģ​Ｃа​ғε

“God, please work a miracle and save him. Or else, do you wanna die by my hands?”

Cecilia knelt primly, hands clasped together in prayer.

Though she had never prayed earnestly since becoming a Saintess, so she wasn’t sure if this even counted as a proper prayer, there was no doubt that her plea was sincere.

Her legs were starting to cramp. Her head kept lolling forward and backward, and an incessant itch somewhere on her body made it impossible to focus.

‘How did I usually pray again?’

She’d just close her eyes, fill her head with thoughts of him, and before she knew it, prayer time would be over…

Despite her bold declaration that she’d perform the miracle within a day, the world rarely went according to plan.

Cecilia found herself recalling the conditions the angel had set for the miracle.

One Hour Earlier

The moment the pink-haired witch and the scarred man left the room, Cecilia’s shoulders slumped as the tension she’d been gripping finally snapped.

‘When was the last time I felt this tense?’

Not since she’d been caught stealing the coin purse from his waistband, screaming at her to just take it already.

Just as he and Carté had said, witches were terrifying beings. Whether it was their looks, their chests, or their appetite for devouring people—everything about them was horrifying.

This was the first time the angel had dyed her halo crimson in warning just from being in the same space as a witch.

‘Maybe I can rest for a bit…’

Carrying him all the way here had left her body aching, and with the tension gone, her eyelids felt unbearably heavy.

‘If you fail to perform the miracle… you know what’ll happen, right?’

Just as her eyes were about to shut completely, the witch’s voice suddenly echoed in her ears.

“…Mister.”

Cecilia slapped her cheeks twice with both hands and forced her exhausted body up.

She had boldly declared she’d perform the miracle within a day and save him. The sooner she did, the sooner she could escape the witch’s clutches.

“Angel, please use a miracle to heal him.”

The halo floating quietly above her head pulsed faintly.

Earlier, it had spouted nonsense like “skill cooldown” and “unauthorized target” to refuse her, but now that the witch wasn’t here…

[Miracle activation: Impossible.]

“Why not?! Can’t you even do that?!”

Just before leaving the Holy Capital, the angel had seemed like it would kill anyone at her command. Yet this was already the third time it had denied her.

Unable to hold back her frustration, Cecilia grabbed the halo and shook it violently. But the angel’s voice remained flat and emotionless as it continued its explanation.

[Reason for miracle denial: Insufficient authority. To gain authority, awakening is required.]

“Then how do I… awaken?”

[Truly, truly, I say unto thee: Pray. Without faith, no true fruit shall be borne. Upon faith, love shall blossom. Upon love, devotion shall bear fruit.]

The angel spewed incomprehensible words and refused to grant Cecilia’s wish.

‘If I’d known this would happen, I should’ve at least skimmed through that stupidly thick scripture…’

But regretting the past was pointless now. She had to focus on the conditions the angel had set.

If she couldn’t perform the miracle… he would become the witch’s meal.

“Ugh! I’m sorry for saying crap like ‘die’! Please! I’m begging you! You’re an angel, right?! God must be listening too! You can ignore anyone else, but you have to listen to a Saintess! Are you really gonna let a Saintess’s Guardian become witch food?!”

Back in reality, Cecilia screamed in desperation, but no miracle occurred.

Her patience and endurance had never been great.

She had poured her heart into this prayer, yet nothing changed. Was the miracle even something she could perform herself?

The witch, the angel—it all felt like some elaborate scam to tear him away from her.

“Fine. If you won’t listen even when I pray like this… I’ll just make the miracle happen myself.”

Cecilia rejected reality. No—perhaps it was more accurate to say she had realized reality.

Prayer had never suited her, even after becoming a Saintess. She doubted God would listen to her sudden pleas.

More importantly, after an hour of praying with no response, she had neither the patience nor the strength left to endure her aching legs.

Gritting her teeth, she stood up and scanned the room. Then, spotting a wooden stick that looked easy to swing, she smiled.

‘If I stab a vital point with this sharp end, killing someone should be easy, right?’

If the angel couldn’t attack the witch, then she would do it herself.

She didn’t know how strong the witch was, but if she stabbed her in the heart, wouldn’t it be game over for anyone?

“This is the miracle.”

Old habits die hard. The skills she’d learned before meeting him resurfaced naturally.

Cecilia was always better at creating miracles through action rather than praying for them.

If he saw her like this, he’d surely scold her… but she couldn’t think of any other way to save him.

“Mister, just wait a little longer. I’ll kill the witch and come back.”

Leaving him unconscious on the bed, she gripped the wooden stick tightly.

Carefully opening the door without a sound, she peeked out, scanning the area before stepping forward cautiously, ensuring her footsteps made no noise.

“Angel, where’s the witch? You can answer this, right?”

If the angel couldn’t attack the witch, it should at least know her location.

In the gloomy church hallway, she whispered to the angel, afraid the witch might hear.

She didn’t know where the witch was, but she was definitely somewhere in the church. She wouldn’t have left them behind.

“Looking for Estelle?”

The voice that answered wasn’t the angel’s neutral, emotionless tone—but a deep, rough baritone.

Cecilia’s sweat ran cold as she slowly turned toward the source of the voice.

Eyes like red slits piercing through the dark hallway.

Muscles impossible to hide even under clothing.

Scars covering his hands and face—more than even Gray’s.

She had forgotten.

There was someone else here besides the witch.

The man who stood by the witch’s side had closed the distance without her noticing, now glaring down at her intimidatingly.

“Have you performed the miracle?”

“W-Well, not… yet?”

“Then where were you going?”

“…Eeek!”

If it had been the witch, maybe she could’ve won. But this man? She didn’t even feel like she stood a chance.

Could this stick even pierce those muscles?

Just meeting his gaze made her knees tremble so badly she could barely stand, using the stick as a crutch to stay upright.

‘Am I gonna get eaten like this?’

If he was with the witch, he probably ate people too…

Grrrooowl…

At the worst possible timing, an unknown stomach clock rang out.

The witch had said Gray would be eaten in three days, but she’d never mentioned Cecilia’s fate…

As horrifying images flooded her mind, her eyes welled up with tears. When the man reached out, she squeezed her eyes shut.

‘I haven’t fulfilled my promise with Mister yet…’

Her grand plan of stabbing the witch’s heart and performing the miracle herself had long vanished from her mind.

Now, she could only pray the man wouldn’t harm her.

“…….”

But no matter how much time passed, the man’s hand never came down on her. Instead, a savory aroma wafted into her nose.

“You were hungry. I don’t know what this ‘miracle’ is, but you won’t have strength without food.”

When Cecilia cautiously opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a plate of delicious-looking food.

The witch hadn’t been lying when she said she’d bring food—and thankfully, the source of the stomach growls seemed to be Cecilia herself, not the man.

“Return to your room. Show me the miracle quickly. I look forward to witnessing you weaklings’ pure love.”

Placing the plate in her hands, the man vanished into the darkness.

Following him would surely lead her to the witch—yet Cecilia lowered the stick and chose to return to the room instead.

Praying to God seemed faster than trying to perform the miracle herself.

“It’s not poisoned, right…? Or cursed like Mister?”

Back in the room, Cecilia crouched in a corner, poking at the food with her finger.

[Analysis complete. No poison detected. No curses detected.]

“How generous of you.”

The angel, nowhere to be found when she needed it, suddenly acted all competent. It was annoying.

Grrrooowl…

Her stomach growled again, and though the angel confirmed the food was safe, Cecilia didn’t take a bite. Instead, she approached the bed where he lay unconscious and began praying again.

It was one of the few acts of defiance she could manage against the witch.

“Damn… Why’s this so good?”

Unfortunately, Cecilia’s rebellion lasted less than an hour.

Lucent