Chapter 3 : Unrestrained

Via stood in Bellon’s study, head bowed, nervously clutching the hem of her saintess robes, not daring to lift her gaze, trying to quiet her breathing.

The massive black bookshelves beside her loomed like a mountain in the dim room, pressing down until she could barely breathe.

“…”

Bellon sat behind his desk, the room’s only oil lamp casting flickering shadows across his unpredictable expression as he silently observed her every move.

“Bishop-sama… do you have any instructions?”

After returning to the Holy Land, Via had come to the bishop’s study.

Sophie had wanted to accompany her, but Bellon dismissed her with an excuse.

Via truly hoped tonight would end like usual—just a few criticisms from Bellon before letting her go.

“Via.”

As Via’s mind wandered, Bellon spoke her name, standing and pacing the room without a sound, like a ghost.

“Bishop-sama, is something wrong?”

Via responded but kept her head down, avoiding his gaze.

“You are Sylvia’s daughter, the saintess candidate carrying everyone’s hopes—”

Smack.

A small cat suddenly appeared in Via’s view, thrown to the floor, startling her.

“Meow…”

The cat let out a weak, pained cry, bright red blood flowing from its body, spreading across the ground.

Its throat had been slit.

Via looked up in horror at the expressionless Bellon, eyes wide.

Using a cold tone, Bellon issued his command.

“As the descendant inheriting the saintess bloodline, use healing magic to treat this creature’s wound and save its life.”

“Meow…”

The cat cried for help again, casting a pleading gaze at Via, clearly seeing the pink-haired girl as its lifeline.

“If you don’t act soon, it will die,” Bellon reminded. “It’s waiting for you to save it.”

“O-Okay…!”

Via couldn’t bear to watch the cat die before her.

She knelt on the ground, assuming a prayer pose, trying to channel the holy power within her body to cast the most basic healing spell.

Magic was the world’s fundamental energy, present in all things; clerics were unique in converting it into holy power through faith in the gods, enabling sacred arts with special effects.

But Via’s own magic was pitifully scarce, making conversion into holy power extremely difficult, let alone casting spells.

As the daughter of the perfect saintess Sylvia, she had inherited none of her talent, worse than an ordinary nun—this was why she was constantly criticized.

“O gods, please, grant a miracle!”

Via pressed her hands together, praying desperately, but no holy power stirred; sweat beaded on her forehead from anxiety.

The cat’s breathing grew fainter, on the verge of leaving this world.

“U… uu…”

Via’s voice cracked with sobs, crystalline tears spilling from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto the cat.

Suddenly, a gentle light enveloped the cat, holy power wrapping its wound, stopping the bleeding and healing it.

“Could it be!?”

Via was stunned—had a miracle truly occurred?

She, who couldn’t use holy power, had awakened her ability under pressure and could now save lives like her mother.

She looked up eagerly to tell Bellon, but her pink pupils contracted sharply, her body trembling.

The hope that had just risen turned to shattering despair.

“How disappointing.”

Bellon’s raised hand surged with sacred golden light.

He was the one who healed the cat.

Via had not summoned any miracle.

“Do you know what you did tonight?”

Bellon no longer restrained his anger.

“Thanks to my efforts, I could have secured vital aid from the imperial family, further expanding our influence, but your existence made His Majesty dissatisfied and cast doubt on the Holy Land.”

“I…”

Via recalled the evening’s events.

Her performance, the nobles’ evaluations, the emperor’s attitude—each one suffocated her.

“The daughter of a saintess, yet unable to cast even healing magic! The most basic of basics—if not for your bloodline, you wouldn’t even qualify to step foot in the Holy Land! But you’re like an unignorable stain on white cloth, harming the Holy Land’s legitimacy and hindering deeper cooperation with the empire!”

Bellon slammed the desk, knocking the oil lamp to the floor; it rolled with a clatter to Via’s feet.

He nearly cursed—Via was the reason his plans were nearly ruined.

“Bishop-sama, I can learn… I’ll master healing magic…”

Via tried to defend herself, but her words felt feeble.

“Learn?” Bellon sneered. “Sophie could use healing magic at three years old. And you? Still nothing.”

“Sis…”

Via admired her sister—and envied her.

Perfectly inheriting their mother’s gifts, displaying unmatched excellence from childhood, earning the highest praise.

Before Sophie, Via was like an ugly duckling.

“If Sylvia had only one child, perhaps everything would be different,” Bellon said sharply. “Your disappearance would benefit everyone.”

“I’m… not needed…”

Via felt hammered, swaying unsteadily.

The crushing pressure nearly made her faint; the world spun, waves of chaos assaulting her, even hallucinations appearing.

She seemed to stand before a dark throne, looking down arrogantly at those kneeling below.

“If you know what’s good for you, I can arrange a respectable end for the rest of your life, making you vanish from public view forever, causing no more trouble—”

Bellon continued pressuring Via.

Hearing this, nameless anger surged in Via’s heart; her dazed eyes seemed to sense something, turning toward the study’s window, where the glass once again reflected the mysterious demon.

The young demon boy opened his mouth and spoke a sentence.

For some reason, Via’s lips moved unconsciously, uttering in an exceedingly arrogant tone a statement utterly unlike her personality, delivered with resounding force that stunned Bellon on the spot.

“How dare you lecture this king?”