Chapter 024………………………………………………….
As the raindrops grew heavier, I knelt before the altar, folding my hands into the image of a saint that others wished to see.
I did not seek God.
I had already seen the Pope off with enough sincerity in my previous life.
If he wanted a proper farewell, he should have spoken honestly about the holy power back then.
I hadn’t wanted this—but I needed time to think about the future that had already begun.
To ensure that today’s helplessness would not repeat itself, I had to reflect.
On what I could do—and what I must do.
Was Pavivan involved in the Pope’s death?
Or was this simply a future altered because I had returned to the past?
I searched my memories from before I stepped onto the altar.
As I traced those fading afterimages, I suddenly opened my eyes wide.
“…!”
There they were.
Below stood Pavivan—the one upon whom I had cast the nightmare—and several cardinals who were unmistakably his people.
They didn’t look as unharmed as Pavivan himself, but they were here.
The nightmare had been lifted.
And not by my hand.
Then how?
If I took the Pope’s words at face value, did that mean Pavivan could steal holy power as well?
The Pope losing his vitality right before my eyes.
The holy power disappearing entirely.
It made no sense—yet all these doubts pointed toward a single truth.
At the moment I felt fear, Pavivan looked like someone who had never suffered a nightmare at all.
The suspicion that Pavivan had taken the Pope’s holy power swelled in an instant.
There was no solid proof—none at all.
But right now, I had to trust my instincts.
The future Pavivan envisioned was accelerating.
At this rate, he would sit upon the vacant papal throne.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember how he became Pope.
No—there was nothing to remember.
It had simply happened.
By the natural order.
My hands began to tremble.
The helplessness returned, and with it fear.
Though it wasn’t winter, this place felt cold and barren, devoid of hope.
I was afraid—afraid of living through the same fate again.
My breath came in short, suffocating gasps.
I wondered if someone was watching me; my back stiffened.
What if returning to the past and trying to change this place was nothing more than my arrogance?
I clenched my trembling hands tighter and forced myself to draw a deep breath.
I resented the God who did not answer me.
“Is it truly Your will that I die, following the natural order?”
I wanted my trembling heart to reach Him.
When I slightly raised my head, the raindrops clinging to my lashes slid down my cheeks.
As my blurred vision cleared, the darkened sky came into view.
There was no sign of anyone else.
I was alone.
As my strength gave out, my clasped hands fell onto my knees.
“Haa…”
Though I hadn’t covered my ears, only now did I hear the sound of rain.
Was I afraid of death?
Hard to say. Death itself didn’t frighten me.
Long ago, I had already resolved to die in Cardin’s place in this hell.
If my death could end this tragedy, I could die without regret.
But that wouldn’t be the end.
After my death, countless others would follow.
I thought I wouldn’t care about people from this place—
But now, faces passed through my mind.
And because of that, I couldn’t pretend anymore.
On the first day of the vigil, I buried deep within myself the weak version that feared the future, overwhelmed by immediate helplessness.
On the second day, I organized what I needed to do—and those I had to make my allies.
On the final day, I sat here, drawing a future without certainty.
Thankfully, no one came looking for me.
There was no interruption.
For three days, the rain fell relentlessly.
My hair never once had a chance to dry.
By now, the funeral mass must have begun.
Melissa would have been summoned from every nation.
And surely the clergy of Gloria’s temple would have gathered here as well.
In my past life, memories of this final day were the blurriest.
I hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for three days, nor had I slept—it was no wonder my mind hadn’t held together.
Even now, nothing was different.
I still hadn’t eaten or slept.
But this time, I tried to stay conscious.
I pinched my thigh.
I slapped my own cheek.
And finally, the vigil came to an end.
As the rain slowly let up, I braced my numb legs and stood.
My rain-soaked clothes felt heavy, my legs weak.
My unsteady body lost its balance and collapsed forward.
My breathing turned ragged.
This wasn’t the time for this.
I pressed my hands against the ground and forced strength into them.
With furrowed brows, I pushed myself up again.
Each time I swayed, it felt as though my consciousness might slip away.
Once I left this place, someone—anyone—would be there.
I just had to endure a little longer.
Letting out a long breath, I straightened myself.
My vision seemed to open up.
I began moving toward the stairs.
One step.
Another.
Descending was perilous, and every movement took effort.
Step.
Step.
As I weakly descended one stair at a time, I turned my head without thinking.
With the rain thinning and the world clearer than before, someone I never wanted to face again entered my sight.
“Cardin.”
My lips moved before I could stop myself.
A moment later, I turned fully toward him.
My heart pounded wildly.
My grip on my skirt tightened unconsciously.
My pale hand flushed red, veins faintly visible beneath the skin.
Had I mistaken him for someone else?
That could be.
Cardin was never meant to attend the Pope’s funeral.
Others would come representing the Kingdom of Helen—he had no reason to mourn a Pope who had died without heirs.
And yet, my shoulders trembled at the possibility.
I wanted to keep my distance from him.
Not like this.
When my bitten lower lip met the rain, the blood that had welled spread, leaving a metallic taste.
“No. I have to go.”
I couldn’t stay like this.
I turned back toward the stairs.
“Ah.”
I had overlooked how narrow the steps were—and how heavy my clothes had become.
As I stumbled again, I squeezed my eyes shut.
Please don’t let it be him.
Even if it is—please let him not be there.
I prayed for the briefest instant.
Thud.
Instead of falling downward, my body struck something warm and solid.
The breath was knocked from my lungs.
A familiar scent brushed my nose.
My chin trembled too much to speak.
“Are you alright?”
When I tried to pull away from his chest, he steadied me by gripping both my arms.
Where his warmth touched me, it burned.
I answered without lifting my head.
“Thanks to you, Grand Duke, I am unharmed.”
“So you knew it was me.”
Perhaps he was referring to how I had turned away earlier.
When I didn’t respond, his gaze lingered.
“How long have you been here?”
My body tensed.
His jacket was draped over my shoulders.
“You don’t look well.”
My trembling lips wouldn’t move properly.
Without realizing it, I fumbled at the edge of his jacket, seeking warmth.
“I’m fine.”
Turning my face slightly away as if to hide it, I spoke again.
“Thank you for helping me earlier. I’ll be going now.”
As I tried to pass him, Cardin—uncharacteristically—stopped me.
“I’ll escort you.”
I looked down at the wrist he held.
He wasn’t applying force.
It felt like the choice was mine.
“Saintess.”
That wasn’t Cardin’s voice.
Alex came striding up the stairs.
“Saintess, are you alright?”
I gave him a faint smile.
“Yes. Of course.”
It seemed Alex had come to retrieve me. His expression twisted sharply.
I must have looked terrible.
Alex bowed briefly to Cardin.
Cardin silently looked between Alex and me, then lowered his gaze.
When his eyes fell on my wrist, I quickly pulled my hand free.
“Thank you, Grand Duke.”
As I bowed slightly, Alex extended his hand as if he’d been waiting.
I placed my hand—still lingering with Cardin’s warmth—into his palm.
“Let’s go, Captain.”
“Yes. I will escort you.”
