The Saintess Candidate's First Counterattack

Only silence remained in the central hall. Moments ago, hundreds of black feathers had rained down as shadowy figures in holy vestments lunged at students and delegates alike. Now, only scattered black ash, shards of broken stained glass, and the sound of students holding their breath lingered. Aria Elowen stood at the center of it all. The pure white glow of her holy arts still faintly shimmered at her fingertips. Her face was pale, her breathing slightly ragged, yet she had not fled. Every gaze in the hall was fixed upon her—the Holy Church delegation, academy students, faculty, imperial knights, and me.

The question forced upon her earlier had been brutally simple: save one person, or save everyone? The Black Moon had posed it in the cruelest way possible—black feathers aimed at my heart while others targeted the students behind me. If I dodged, the students would be hurt. If I blocked, Aria would have to choose me first. It was the most merciless dilemma for a saintess candidate.

But Aria had torn that choice apart. She neither rushed blindly toward me nor sacrificed herself trying to save everyone at once. She declared she would protect whoever she could reach. She vowed not to run. And then she acted on it.

In that moment, I realized something. Aria was no longer the saintess candidate from the original story who only suffered and waited to be saved. Now she chose for herself. The change was far greater than I had imagined.

“Aria Elowen.”

High Priestess Eline approached slowly. As head of the Holy Church delegation, she was the one who had conducted Aria’s final evaluation as a saintess candidate. She herself had been targeted by the black feathers moments earlier, yet her composure remained unbroken. A few flecks of black ash clung to her white robes, but her posture stayed straight. She stopped before Aria.

“The holy art you just used was not a standard healing technique.”

Aria lowered her head carefully. “I apologize. I modified it on my own.”

“Why did you do so?”

Aria fell silent for a moment. Every eye in the central hall was on her. Her answer would shift the atmosphere. The Holy Church valued discipline above all, and holy arts were sacred powers tied to doctrine. A saintess candidate arbitrarily altering them could easily be seen as a problem rather than a virtue. Aria knew this too. Yet she did not avoid it.

“I believed that trying to save everyone the same way would mean saving no one at all.”

High Priestess Eline’s eyes moved slightly. “Continue.”

Aria clasped her hands together. “I was taught that I must save everyone. That a saintess candidate should show no favoritism, choose no one first, and extend her hand equally to all. But today I learned that reaching out to everyone equally is not the same as truly holding on to anyone.”

Several priests’ expressions hardened. Some ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did not bother hiding their displeasure.

“Saintess Candidate,” one young priest stepped forward, “you must choose your words carefully. A saintess’s mercy must be equal to all.”

Aria met his gaze. In the past, she would have backed down here, apologizing and lowering her head. But not this time.

“I understand that it must be equal,” Aria said. “But when people are falling before me in different ways, I do not believe dividing the same light in the same amount is the only form of mercy.”

“That is a dangerous interpretation.”

“Perhaps it is.” Aria looked down at her own fingertips. “But that is how I just protected people.”

The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Aria’s voice was soft, yet her words did not yield. The priests’ faces grew rigid.

“Are you denying the teachings of the Holy Church, Saintess Candidate?”

My body moved before I could think. But Aria raised her hand ever so slightly, stopping me. She intended to speak for herself. High Priestess Eline watched as well.

“No,” Aria said. “I am not denying the Holy Church’s teachings. I am simply beginning to understand them in my own way.”

The young priest fell silent. It was defiance, yet not complete rebellion—accepting the teachings while claiming the right to interpret them herself. The most difficult kind of answer for the Church to handle.

“Not bad,” Rhea murmured quietly.

Siella nodded beside her. “She doesn’t back down.”

Noel muttered with amusement, “Saintess candidate growth event complete—without the protagonist, even.”

“Senior,” I said in a low voice. Noel only laughed.

“What? It’s true.”

It was. Which only made me more uneasy. In the original story, this scene should have happened with Edan. He was supposed to steady Aria’s wavering heart and become the catalyst for her finding her own path as saintess candidate. But now that place was occupied by me.

Edan had been watching everything in silence. I glanced at him. His expression was complicated—not quite jealousy, but not devoid of feeling either. It was the face of someone watching a scene that might have been his, now shared with another. Yet he still respected Aria’s choice. Edan was a good person. That made him all the more dangerous. The Black Moon knew exactly how to strike at hearts like his.

High Priestess Eline finally spoke. “Aria Elowen.”

“Yes, High Priestess.”

“You were not perfect as a saintess candidate today.”

Aria’s shoulders tensed slightly. But Eline continued.

“However, there are times when a saintess candidate who knows her own choices is more valuable than a perfect one.”

The priests stirred. Eline did not look back at them.

“The Holy Church will conduct a formal investigation into this incident, including the suspected heresy of Professor Beltran Ross and Assistant Priest Rowen.” Her voice grew cold. “And Aria Elowen.”

“Yes.”

“You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will attend the Holy Church delegation meeting.”

Aria’s eyes wavered. “Me?”

“You are at the center of this incident. Since you said you would not run, you must prove it with words as well.”

Aria was silent for a moment. I looked at her. She would be anxious. The delegation meeting was not a comfortable place for her. There would be supporters, but also those who sought to control her—and likely priests who would question her interpretation of holy arts, just as before.

Aria glanced at me, just for an instant. That brief look carried many unspoken words: I’m scared. But I won’t run. So please watch over me.

I nodded. She bowed her head toward Eline once more.

“I will attend.”

At that moment, the young priest spoke again. “High Priestess, allowing the saintess candidate to attend while she is still mentally unsettled—”

“I will speak for myself,” Aria cut in.

The priest stopped, staring at her in disbelief. Aria herself seemed slightly surprised by her own words—her fingertips twitched—but she did not retreat.

“I may not be stable,” she said quietly. “I was scared just now, and I am still afraid. I fear that if I choose wrongly, someone will be hurt. I fear that the moment my heart leans toward one person, I will no longer be fit to be a saintess candidate. That still terrifies me.”

The hall fell silent again. Aria’s voice was not loud, yet no one could interrupt.

“But I will not stand behind everyone, ignorant, using that fear as an excuse.” She looked at the priests. “I want to save everyone. But I will not erase my own heart with the words ‘save everyone.’”

Those words fell upon the hall like something a pure white saintess candidate should never say. To look at someone first. To admit her heart had leaned toward one person. To refuse to hide her feelings before the Holy Church. Soon, rumors would spread—that the saintess candidate had looked at the villainous noble, that she had spoken of her choice before the Church itself. Yet Aria had said it anyway, knowing full well.

“If that heart can make me waver, then I will take responsibility for that wavering as well.” A faint white light bloomed at her fingertips. “So please, do not decide for me in places I cannot see, under the excuse of protecting me.”

The young priest could say nothing. High Priestess Eline gazed at Aria for a long moment, then slowly nodded.

“Very well. Your attendance is permitted, Aria Elowen. The delegation will also accept your testimony as an official record.”

Aria exhaled quietly. It was a breath of relief, and at the same time, the sound of accepting a new weight.

I felt a strange emotion watching her. Aria had just pushed herself into an even more dangerous position—but it was not because someone had dragged her there. She had walked there herself. That mattered.

And then the black ash on the floor began to move.

I gripped my sword at once. “There’s still more!”

Siella drew her blade as Rhea’s chill spread outward. But the ash did not attack. Instead, it formed words across the floor.

Rhea and Siella’s eyes changed at the same time. Crown. Sword. This time, two of them.

The Black Moon, having failed to shake Aria, had immediately declared its next targets—Rhea Silverrian and Siella Bayern.

Aria swallowed. “Her Highness and Lady Siella…”

I clenched my teeth. “So it wasn’t over yet.”

Noel looked down at the words on the floor and spoke in a low voice. “No, this isn’t so much an attack notice as it is a schedule.”

“A schedule?” Edan asked.

Noel’s expression lost its smile. “The Black Moon is redefining the connection lines one by one. Aria just redefined hers in her own way. So next are Rhea and Siella.”

“Then why target both at once?” I asked. Noel met my eyes.

“Because their collision is necessary.”

My mind went cold. Rhea and Siella. Princess and knight’s daughter. The cold crown and the red sword. They had clashed constantly until now—over how to protect me, combat decisions, even how they treated Aria. If the Black Moon targeted both simultaneously, it was not a simple attack. It intended to make them collide. And in a public place, no less.

High Priestess Eline spoke. “We will move to the delegation meeting hall. Remaining in the central hall any longer is dangerous.”

Professor Graham nodded. “Reorganize. Students fall back. Escort units take positions at the front ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and rear of the delegation.”

Siella spoke at once. “I’ll take the vanguard.”

Rhea said, “The delegation and Aria will stay within my barrier.”

“And if Her Highness’s barrier breaks first?”

“It will not break.”

“Confidence is admirable.”

“Not a statement I care to hear from someone who only solves things with a sword.”

Once again, their gazes clashed. No attack had even come yet, but sparks were already flying.

I quickly intervened. “Both of you.”

Rhea and Siella turned to me at the same time.

“The Black Moon likely wants exactly this kind of collision.”

Siella closed her mouth. Rhea’s eyes cooled.

“I am aware.”

“Then why continue?”

“Lady Bayern provoked me first.”

Siella shot back immediately. “Her Highness looked down on me first.”

“Hey now.” My head was starting to hurt. Noel chuckled behind me.

“You’ve got it rough, Kyle.”

Edan spoke quietly. “I also think it would be better to position the two of you separately.”

Rhea and Siella’s gazes shifted to him. Edan did not waver.

“If both Crown and Sword have been marked, moving on separate axes rather than staying in the same place might be wiser. If one is attacked, the other can support.”

Siella regarded him. “Your tactical judgment isn’t bad.”

Rhea added shortly, “Reasonable.”

I looked at Edan. As expected of the protagonist, even his mediation was better than mine. It was a little frustrating.

In the end, the formation was decided. Siella at the front. Rhea in the central barrier. Aria near the delegation. Edan and I in the middle support. Noel at the rear for analysis.

We began moving from the central hall into the western corridor. Students watched us from a distance. Some gazed at Aria with admiration, some feared Rhea, some looked to Siella with expectation. The looks directed at Edan and me were more complicated—original protagonist and original villain, now moving as allies. But we had no time to dwell on those stares.

The moment we entered the western corridor, the air changed. The stained glass on the walls trembled faintly. Red and blue patterns rose simultaneously from the floor—crown and sword.

Rhea and Siella stopped at the same time.

The Black Moon’s voice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠echoed throughout the corridor.

The corridor doors slammed shut. The delegation and we were trapped inside. From the floor, an ice throne and crimson swords rose simultaneously.

I gritted my teeth. The Black Moon knew exactly what it was doing—pitting Rhea and Siella against each other in the way they hated most.