Chapter 142 – The Saintess and Her Guardian (20)

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Gray fled through the forest, running as if escaping into the depths of the mountain valley.

He had somehow managed to put distance between himself and Cecilia… but as his consciousness grew hazier by the minute, he had to push himself as far away as possible.

He didn’t know how much longer he could keep moving. The changes in his body told him time was running out.

Even though it was the dead of night, his vision was as clear as day, and the moonlight felt as refreshing as morning sunlight.

Despite not reinforcing his body with divine energy, he could run tirelessly for hours.

He didn’t know what a thrall was, but even someone as ignorant as Gray could tell he was no longer human.

[How long do you think you can resist my will, pitiful thrall?]

Gray grimaced as an unbearable headache struck, accompanied by the demon’s whispers clawing at his mind.

[Cecilia, was it? Is that child truly so precious to you? Bite her. Drink her blood. Offer her body to me. I will grant you both a happy ending.]

“Damn, you’re noisy. Must be an old man thing—I never liked people yapping in my ear.”

The demon’s whispers were sickeningly sweet, like the sermons Cecilia used to half-listen to before dozing off.

Still, Gray responded with feigned indifference, never slowing his pace.

“Grrrr…”

Along the way, he encountered numerous monsters, yet for some reason, none attacked—they just circled him warily.

[Worry not. They are my servants. They won’t harm you, so there’s no need to cower. I’ve laid traps in anticipation of that woman’s pursuit.]

Gray hesitated, cautiously scanning his surroundings. Without his weapons or the ability to freely wield divine energy, a monster attack would be dangerous.

The demon’s bored yet cautious tone grated on his nerves.

“That woman—you mean the witch?”

[Judging by your memories, the pink-haired witch? Yes, her.]

“Why are you wary of her? You’re strong enough to toy with me like a plaything.”

Gray voiced the question weighing on his mind.

Though he prided himself on his formidable combat skills, he was nothing before the demon.

So why was it so defensive against the witch?

“And where the hell is your body, anyway?”

And why did it keep urging him to bite Cecilia?

Everything was a mystery.

The witch was undoubtedly strong—but surely not strong enough to rival a demon.

The Witch of Love, was it?

Compared to the Holy Kingdom’s most classified threats—the Witch of Fate, the Witch of the End, the Witch of Curses—titles that sounded beyond human comprehension. Just… love.

[She sealed my body. I barely managed to transfer my soul into this thrall. Are all witches that strong? As dense as their chests, I swear…]

The demon’s grumbling didn’t stop.

[We had never met before, yet she knew exactly how to counter me. This humiliation is the second-worst I’ve ever suffered. I will have my revenge. I won’t turn her into a thrall—I’ll split her clean in half at the chest and be done with it.]

It sounded eerily similar to Cecilia ranting late at night about her troubles.

Who knew the pink-haired witch was that powerful?

No wonder the Holy Kingdom feared her. No wonder Lucia, the former leader of the Heresy Inquisitors, had fallen to her.

[So, my thrall. Return and bite Cecilia. Her divine energy is… exquisite.]

As the demon’s whispers circled back to Cecilia, Gray’s headache flared. He leaned against a nearby rock, exhausted.

His body was fine, but the longer the demon spoke, the heavier his eyelids grew. He could barely move.

“Hah… I don’t have the hobby of biting little brats. How about settling for this old man instead? My blood’s not bad, you know.”

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Gray cracked his usual easygoing joke.

[Hah! Even I have standards. How could I face the Black Knight in a man’s body, and such a weak one at that? I am one of the Four Heavenly Kings. Soon, I shall claim this world, and him, for myself.]

A Heavenly King?

Before Gray could process that, another wave of pain crashed over him.

He had barely regained control after drinking Cecilia’s blood sent him into a frenzy… but he instinctively knew he was now reaching his limit.

Worse, the demon seemed to be letting him keep control—like a spider waiting for prey to stumble into its web.

It kept mentioning Cecilia. Its intentions were obvious.

Gray’s words were the only ones Cecilia ever obeyed without question…

He could only hope she would listen to what might be his last warning.

His eyes grew heavier.

This time, he couldn’t fight it.

No matter how hard he tried to force them open, his body refused to obey.

‘And if she can’t perform a miracle, I’ll help you myself.’

In what might be his final moments, the words echoing in his mind weren’t from anyone else, but the witch.

He wished she would appear and make good on her promise.

Gray, the Guardian of one of the Holy Kingdom’s four Saintesses, was pinning his hopes on a witch.

In his thirty-four years of life, he’d seen plenty of absurdities… but if he ever made it back to the capital with Cecilia, this would be the story of a lifetime.

[Such insolent thoughts. But even if she comes, it’ll take time. How unfortunate for you.]

The demon sneered, as if mocking him.

[And you’re not allowed to sleep yet. We have a guest to welcome.]

“Huh…?”

Through his blurry, half-lidded vision, Gray scanned his surroundings—just as a familiar surge of holy energy appeared before him.

Two pairs of wings fluttered.

Countless feathers scattered, and when one brushed against Gray, it sizzled and vanished as if repelled.

The feathers that had always felt warm when Cecilia used her power now seemed to push him away.

The halo above her pulsed crimson.

The angel must have sensed what lurked inside him.

“Gray…!”

Yet Cecilia still stumbled forward, her lips cracked and bloodied, calling his name with every step.

If anyone had to come after him, he’d wanted it to be the witch—not her.

This was the worst-case scenario.

Even if he couldn’t see the demon’s face, he knew it was grinning hideously. He couldn’t let things go its way.

Gray forced his unresponsive body up, trying to put distance between himself and Cecilia.

But his sluggish steps were no match for her frantic pace.

“Kid. Go back to the capital. I told you not to follow. Since when do you not listen to me?”

“You think I’d leave you behind? If I go, we go together! Do you even know what’s happening to you? You’re witch food now! It’s not too late, before the witch gets here, we can still perform a miracle—!”

Witch food?

He didn’t know why the witch had fed her that lie, but it was backfiring now.

If they could just perform a miracle, maybe things would work out.

The witch had emphasized Cecilia’s miracles enough.

“God, please…! Grant me a miracle or whatever!”

Cecilia dropped to her knees, babbling prayers.

The sight of the Saintess, who should have been dignified above all else, was heartbreaking.

Gray wanted to go to her, to encourage her, to tell her she could do it… but time was running out.

Any second now, his fangs would sink into her neck.

“I know my body best. So… if you can’t go back to the capital, go to the witch. That’s the safest option. Listen to me.”

All Gray could do was speak.

He could no longer protect her as her Guardian.

“It’s not about being witch food. I’ve… been bitten by a demon. Even now, it’s screaming at me to drink your blood. Before it gets you too, go.”

He thought the truth might make her leave… but it was useless.

“GOD!! PLEASE!! SAVE HIM!!”

As if deaf to his words, Cecilia screamed herself hoarse, begging the heavens.

“That wish… I shall grant it.”

‘What?’

They say the devil answers prayers before God does.

Before any divine response came, the demon inside Gray replied first.

“No! Please! Kid, this isn’t the time to pray! Run!”

Gray’s cries didn’t reach her.

He watched as his body slowly approached Cecilia.

No matter how hard he struggled, it wouldn’t obey.

As he neared, her halo pulsed violently, and her wings spread protectively.

Excruciating pain tore through him as divine energy lashed out—yet his body ignored it, pulling Cecilia into an embrace.

“Gray…?”

“You shall remain my thrall… forever.”

And then—

Sharp fangs sank into her neck.

Gray’s consciousness plunged into darkness.

Lucent