The Saintess and Sloth [5]

I sat by the child's bedside, drawing in trembling breaths as I carefully placed my hand on her chest.

Through my closed eyelids, I grasped the faint flicker of her life signal and whispered a desperate prayer, my voice quivering.

As I murmured the prayer softly, a white, warm energy rippled from my entire body and began to pour forth. The light soon condensed at my fingertips, gently seeping through the child's thin chest.

A gentle azure knock, carefully rapping at the door of the wounded soul.

I sent my consciousness riding on that wave of light.

Full-body projection. The most intricate projection technique of a cleric, mapping the blueprint of life without a single millimeter of error before the healing touch arrives.

My consciousness unraveled into threads of pure white, sweeping through every corner of Lulu's body and painting its horrific reality into my mind in real time.

But the information returned by the waves was too gruesome to behold with open eyes.

...As expected.

I had braced myself to some extent, but the state was beyond imagination. The mana circuits were already burned out from overload, their forms unrecognizable. Strangely, though, something alien was filling the voids left by those charred circuits, surging wildly.

A dark, heavy power that flowed freely, unbound by anything. This must be the power of the void... I set aside the brief impression and channeled my holy power deeper, scanning the child's entire body inch by inch.

First, descending from the crown of her head, my vision caught miserable traces. Near the skull, fine cracks from repeated external impacts webbed out like spider silk.

The membrane encasing the brain was thinned to its limit, and the nerve bundles were abnormally rigid, steeped in the constant pain that assailed her.

As the light moved to her shoulders and chest, it transmitted even more devastating data. Several ribs had fractured and healed crookedly on their own, while the organs, stunted by extreme malnutrition, barely pulsed on in arrested growth.

The muscles were twisted without a chance to mend, and beneath the skin, layers of untreated bruises had piled up.

I bit my lip unconsciously.

Those bastards...

How could they, wearing human skins, drive a child to this state?

But the most severe issue was the mana circuits, as the void had said. The child was drawing even on her own life force.

In battlefields, there are superhumans who, facing death, burn their life force as a final resort to unleash explosive power.

People call it Soul Burn, the soul's self-immolation.

Like a candle flaming brightest before crumbling to ash, it uses one's lifespan as kindling to forge a miracle. But not just anyone can do it.

It's not merely a matter of resolve to die—it's a realm possible only for the rare genius whose soul can assimilate with mana.

Yet this child, without conscious awareness, had squeezed every drop of mana from her body solely to survive. Even after her mana depleted and circuits burned, her survival instinct didn't stop.

Offering her life force as sacrifice atop the empty circuits, she had unknowingly shaved away her lifespan to sustain each day's breath.

That desperate will to live was, ironically, driving her toward death the fastest.

In this hellish trash heap, enduring the agony of devouring her own soul, the child had somehow survived. And finally, she met the family she so desperately longed for. Now, at last, she could be loved, eat her fill, and sleep in a warm bed—the miracle called "family" was in her grasp.

Yet she was dying. Right at this moment when she should savor happiness, her life was slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

...No. Absolutely not.

What kind of life had this child endured to hold on? What kind of bond had she grasped?

I would fix it. Not as the saintess bearing humanity's sins, but as one human who couldn't wipe away this child's tears. I would pour out every ounce of holy power flowing within me to mend her.

I would make her halted time flow again.

I clasped the child's small hand between both of mine, channeling my warmth with fierce intent as I roughly drew up the holy power within.

Whoosh—!

The air in the room vibrated with a warm yet suffocating pressure. It wasn't destruction, but an overflow of life force, condensed to excess.

Vast white holy power poured into the child's body through my fingertips, shaking the very air.

My mind was filled only with the obsession to save her. As my vision flickered white from the intense focus, a voice cut in low.

"...Enough."

With that subdued voice, the holy power cascading like a waterfall abruptly halted.

Startled by the alien sensation, as if blocked by an invisible wall, I whipped my head around. At the edge of my gaze stood the void, frowning down at me.

"I said save her, not burn your own life force too."

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, scolding me. Only then did I become aware of my own state.

"Ah..."

A hollow groan escaped me. The holy power that had brimmed like an inexhaustible spring in my body was utterly depleted.

Even on battlefields where countless soldiers fell, or when pouring everything into saving a hero on the brink—the hope of humanity—I had never exhausted my holy power to this degree.

The vastest holy power on the continent, or so I prided myself, lay empty.

I clutched my trembling hands, stammering in panic.

"B-but...! The circuits aren't fully connected yet. If we stop here...!"

"That's enough for today."

I bit my lip at his firm refusal. Just a little more—just a bit more squeezed out, and I could solidly fill the child's broken gaps. Why stop me? As I glared up at him with resentment, he met my eyes coolly and asked.

"Think about it. This child is young, uneducated, knows nothing."

He glanced indifferently at the child breathing peacefully on the bed and continued.

"But when she grows up and learns she lived on the sacrifice of someone else's lifespan? What do you think she'll do then?"

"...Ah."

My mind flashed white. Was what I tried to do salvation, or just burdening her with another weight?

She's kinder and more fragile than anyone. If she learned the saintess died for her survival, the joy of living would be overshadowed by guilt over another's sacrifice, tormenting her for life.

He saw what I missed: the weight of the child's "tomorrow." Dazed, I could offer no reply.

Watching me, he let out a short, dry chuckle. "Still, not bad. You did well."

An unexpected praise.

I'd heard plenty pushing me to sacrifice as the saintess's duty, but no one had ever said my choice was right so plainly and indifferently.

The self-reproach and confusion swirling in my head subsided limply at that casual remark.

He nodded toward the bed. "Anyway, that's it for today. How's Lulu's condition?"

I snapped back, steadying my trembling hands. "Ah... yes. Much improved. She still needs more of your mana, but..."

I trailed off, gazing at the child again.

The horrific traces tormenting her moments ago had vanished like a mirage. The web of bruises and scars across her body had been washed clean under the saintess's light.

Her fern-like hands, blackened under the nails, and the gashes from handling trash were now covered in soft, smooth skin.

Her ragged breaths had steadied into the calm rhythm of a sleeping infant.

I carefully inspected her mouth. Teeth chipped and broken by merciless beatings had absorbed my holy power, regaining their smooth original form.

Aside from gaps stunted by malnutrition, the painful shards that had stabbed her mouth were gone without trace.

"All external wounds are healed. What's left are the internal mana circuits... and the remnants of her burned life force."

My voice was steady, but my heart still quivered.

The child's now-pristine face paradoxically proved how deep her hell had been.

He nodded slowly at my report, then asked as if it just occurred to him. "What about the illness? Before I was summoned, she vomited from bad food and had a high fever."

I lightly touched her forehead again. "Yes, that's healed too. Poison from decayed food in the trash heap had built up in her organs, but my holy power coursed through her blood, purifying it all."

Satisfied—or relieved—he looked down at Lulu.

I rose swiftly, but my depleted energy made my body sway violently.

As my vision spun and knees buckled, a firm yet gentle hand steadied my arm from the side.

Lian had approached unnoticed, supporting me with a voice thick with emotion. "You did well, Saintess. Truly... you worked so hard."

Her eyes were red-rimmed.

Her grip ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tightened as she alternated between Lulu's clean face and my exhausted pallor. It was respect for the saintess, and deep empathy and gratitude for the human who saved a child.

Leaning on Lian, I barely regained balance and gave her a faint, wistful smile. "Just doing what I had to."

My voice sank weakly, but there was no regret. Not from the duty of my title.

Simply, if this child's breaths could become this peaceful, pouring out everything within me was no loss.

As Lian continued supporting my trembling, depleted hands, Natae—gazing out the window—added his indifferent, weighty voice.

"She'll wake soon. Check her then."

Without turning, he spoke as if reading distant fate. "As I said, she'll be wary of you. To her, anyone but me is a source of terror."

His calm words chilled the joy of healing that had filled my heart moments ago.

Clean skin and even breaths. External wounds might be erased, but my holy power couldn't reach the terror of "humans" etched deep in her unconscious.

Those memories of enduring violence and starvation might be deeper, tougher scars than the burned mana circuits.

"...I understand."

I nodded slowly, heart heavy.

Exhausted of all energy, she leaned on Lian's support to collapse into a nearby chair. Watching her, I murmured inwardly.

Hm... Indeed worthy of being called a saintess.

I contemplated her pale, fatigued face as she rested.

Holy power. When the saintess poured it into healing Lulu, my senses caught more than mere light waves.

I tried dissecting its structure while observing the white beams. But I soon frowned and gave up.

The very nature of holy power was the polar opposite of mine. If my power breaks and erodes, hers mends the broken and forcibly clings life together.

Fundamentally incompatible forces.

No matter my vast power, I reconfirmed I couldn't heal this child myself.

...Annoying, but looks like I'll have to visit occasionally. I decided to treat the Holy Kingdom—where the saintess resided—like a hospital to visit whenever Lulu fell ill.

I gazed at the darkening sky outside. Amid the deepening indigo dusk, one star shone particularly bright, looking down at me.

I sank into thought. The feeling of someone watching through the saintess from above.

The healing finished without interference—more smoothly than expected. I hadn't thought the being beyond that star would permit it so readily.

If the god linked to the saintess—or those usurpers—refused to heal my contractor, the child... I was prepared to expend massive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sloth Force to gladly erase that star.

Yet that gaze felt less hostile, more like cautious yearning, peeking at my reaction.

I scowled up at the sky.

What is it? Hoping for something? Is there ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something I don't know?

I couldn't pinpoint it. But that odd wariness lingered briefly in my mind.

"...Dunno."

I muttered low, averting my eyes from the heavenly gaze. Clinging to loose ends isn't my style. Whatever schemes brewed above, overturning the board was my part too.

I turned back to the bed, gazing at the peacefully sleeping Lulu. Then, her thin eyelids quivered faintly, her small body stirring. The fluffy wriggles unique to a child waking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from deep slumber.

Instinctively seeking warmth, she reached out, trying to rise.

Pfft.

A small chuckle escaped me unbidden.

I rose from the chair, quietly approaching Lulu's side as her eyes began to flutter open.