Ch. 134 🔒 The Saintess and Her Guardian (12)
by Afuhfuihgs
Chapter 134 – The Saintess and Her Guardian (12)
The room was bathed in pure white light.
Three pairs of wings unfurled from Cecilia’s back, countless feathers scattering in their wake.
Then, from her small hands, the most radiant holy power burst forth—purer than any other.
A miracle.
A force so holy it could only be believed as the work of God enveloped the pale, corpse-like man before her.
Every wound, every curse plaguing his body—the power washed away all traces of corruption.
[Miracle complete. The curse upon Guardian Gray has been lifted.]
Her halo pulsed as the angel’s mechanical voice whispered in her ear.
“I never thought you’d actually perform a miracle in a single day. You really are a Saintess, huh? Well, I suppose I have no choice. Eating a human marinated in holy energy would just give me indigestion.”
The witch, who had been watching from a distance, shook her head and left the room. With no more threats looming over him, Cecilia’s gums ached from how hard she was grinning.
She had done it.
Just as she had boldly declared, she had performed the miracle—right before the witch’s eyes—and saved him in a single day.
Though the effort left her on the verge of collapse, she refused to look pathetic. Not when he was slowly opening his eyes, gazing up at her from the bed.
“Mister… you’re awake? You almost became witch food, you know that?”
“…Kid?”
Hearing his voice after so long made her want to throw herself into his arms and whine about how hard she had worked to perform the miracle. But no—she wanted to act mature. Elegant.
Because he preferred grown women over whiny, short-stacked brats. She wasn’t about to ruin this hard-earned chance to change his perception of her.
Extending her tiny hands, Cecilia grabbed his large ones and pulled him up.
“How long are you gonna lie there? Let’s go home! And next time you disappear on me, I won’t save you!”
She tried to hold back—but her mouth betrayed her, rising smugly. And her voice? Far too giddy.
But she couldn’t help it.
For the first time, she had saved him—the man who had always been her protector.
Happiness, relief, pride—Cecilia was still too inexperienced to temper the storm of emotions inside her.
She had braced herself for his usual nagging, “How did you even get here?”, but instead, his large frame pulled her into a crushing embrace. So tight she could barely breathe. As if he’d never let her go again.
Her face burned.
He had never hugged her like this before.
This… this was the kind of embrace lovers shared. Like something straight out of those rare, precious romance novels from the Holy Capital.
‘He finally sees me as a woman.’
All her efforts had finally paid off. Wrapping her small arms around his broad shoulders, she squeezed back.
When their eyes met, she saw it—raw, burning desire in his gaze.
She knew that look well. It was the same one she wore whenever she thought of him.
“Mister…? Let’s save this for when we get home, okay?”
She wanted their first kiss—their first everything—to be somewhere elegant. Somewhere perfect.
Not this shabby, crumbling church. She wanted to become his in a pristine, beautiful place.
But… if he wanted it now, well—
Cecilia closed her eyes, steeling herself.
‘He’ll kiss me first, right?’
A kiss was only natural in this romantic moment—a Saintess saving her Guardian.
But no matter how long she waited, his lips never met hers.
Instead, despite her closed eyes, she saw their reflections—as if observing from afar.
He moved past her lips, down to the delicate curve of her neck.
Then—
Fangs bared, poised to sink into her flawless skin—
“GYAAAAH—!”
Cecilia’s eyes flew open as she jolted upright.
Cold sweat drenched her body. Her heart pounded violently, reverberating through her entire being.
He was still lying motionless on the bed. Outside, birds chirped faintly.
No miracle had occurred.
He hadn’t woken up. There had been no lover’s embrace.
The floor was cold beneath her. Her body ached from sleeping in the wrong position.
“Ah… fuck. A dream.”
A disgustingly sweet dream.
Cecilia spat out a curse unbefitting a Saintess. If he had heard, he’d have smacked her head, but right now, there was no one to scold her.
Knock knock knock.
A sound at the door. The man who stood by the witch’s side entered, carrying food.
“Morning.”
‘Morning… Right.’
Cecilia dragged her hands down her face, forcing herself to face reality.
She had dozed off while praying. Another meaningless day had passed.
Her wings remained a single pair.
“What’re you staring at…? Never seen someone eat before?”
Munch munch.
The man had been silently watching her eat, making it hard to tell if the food was going into her mouth or her nose.
She tried to sound tough, but her nerves were frayed—half-expecting him to attack at any moment.
“No miracle yet?”
“C-Cough—!”
Not an attack—but a brutal fact.
His words made her choke. She thumped her chest, coughing violently.
“Your reaction says it all.”
Leaning against the wall with folded arms, the man observed her before closing his eyes and muttering under his breath.
Somehow, it felt like he was looking down on her. Annoyed, she lost her appetite.
She was the one who wanted to save him the most. If she failed, he’d become witch food. Yet this man, aligned with the witch, seemed to want her to perform the miracle.
Yesterday, he had brought her food and even encouraged her.
“If I perform the miracle… the witch won’t get to eat him. You’re… okay with that?”
Cecilia cautiously probed his intentions.
Things had been too chaotic yesterday, but even someone as slow as her could tell something was off.
“Whether I’m okay with it or not, Estelle has already decided. I don’t care either way. But if you don’t eat, should I take a bite instead? I’ve never tasted human flesh.”
“N-No! Humans taste terrible! I’ve tried it!”
“You’ve tried it? A human eating humans. Impressive.”
Her lie had accidentally turned her into a cannibalistic Saintess—but at least it shattered any curiosities he might’ve had.
“You’re worrying over nothing. Just perform the miracle and protect your love. That’s all that matters.”
The man saw right through her anxieties and delivered those painful words in his usual flat tone.
“…Love?”
“Aren’t you in love? Estelle said the two of you share a pure love. Was she wrong?”
Cecilia couldn’t answer immediately.
Love… Love, huh?
Even if it was one-sided… did it still count?
She loved him—but he?
No matter how much she clung to him, he always treated her like a kid.
And he never shut up about how much he liked voluptuous women.
“Liar… You promised me.”
She remembered the vow they had made before she became a Saintess.
The reason a free-spirited girl like her had taken on such a stifling role.
The driving force that kept her enduring the dreary life in the Holy Capital.
‘Mister, promise me! When I grow up… marry me! If you don’t, I won’t become a Saintess!’
‘Sigh… Brat. Fine, whatever. Just become the Saintess first, okay? What do you even see in an old man like me…?’
He had probably brushed it off as a childish whim. But she had meant every word.
‘What do I see in him?’
Too much to put into words.
From the moment he shielded her, a pickpocket who had stolen his entire fortune, moments from being executed, it hadn’t mattered that he was just the first man to show her kindness.
“Yeah. I love him. Even if it’s one-sided, it’s fine. I love him so much it drives me crazy. I will perform the miracle… I won’t let him become witch food!”
Her golden eyes locked onto his crimson ones.
Her trembling subsided. Her halo resonated powerfully, echoing her resolve.
“One-sided, huh… I’ll root for you, then. I think I understand why Estelle adores pure love so much.”
‘Who would’ve thought I’d get encouragement from the witch’s lackey…?’
As the man quietly left, Cecilia set aside her half-eaten meal.
Then she knelt beside his bed, clasped her hands together, and closed her eyes.
‘This time… I know I can perform the miracle.’
Lucent
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