<CHAPTER 7>
So What If She’s a Saint?
Herond was startled when he saw Redemberg Lu Edeltein’s wrist wrapped in bandages as he entered the Demon King’s castle.
“Your Majesty, what happened to your wrist?”
“I broke it.”
“Who dares say such a thing?!”
“I did.”
“Excuse me?”
Herond didn’t dare ask further.
There was no way the wise and strong Demon King, Redemberg, would do something insane like breaking his own wrist without reason.
There must have been a reason for it.
He could not even imagine that the reason Redemberg broke his own wrist was something trivial, like pretending to be weak to avoid suspicion from a woman he liked.
Who would ever imagine that the most powerful Demon King in history would act coy in front of a human woman?
“Herond.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
Redemberg tossed something swiftly.
Herond caught it just in time and checked it.
It was a vial filled with black liquid.
“This is a fatigue-relieving potion made from black dragon’s blood.”
Herond’s dark eyes widened.
Black dragon blood was like a panacea to all living beings.
Even a single sip could relieve headaches, stomach aches, muscle pain—virtually any kind of discomfort.
A fatigue-relieving potion made from such a rare ingredient would surely be immensely potent.
“W-why are you giving this to me…?”
“Drink it.”
Herond felt moved by Redemberg’s calm voice.
To receive something so precious as a gift made him realize once again that he truly was the Demon King’s right-hand man.
Even if the Demon King doesn’t show it, he does value me.
Herond opened the vial with tears of gratitude in his eyes and drank it in one gulp.
As expected of a fatigue-relieving potion made from rare black dragon blood, he felt an immediate effect.
His whole body flushed with heat, and his blood seemed to circulate faster.
No, it wasn’t just a sensation.
His blood really was rushing through his veins.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His heart pounded wildly.
Wait. Something’s wrong.
Herond realized something was off.
Redemberg had said it was black dragon blood, but instead of simply feeling revitalized, it felt like he had been hit with a high priest’s attack.
“Cough, cough!”
A scorching heat surged up.
Herond vomited blood and collapsed with a thud.
“Hagh, Y-Your Majesty, g-gak! W-what is this…?”
Only then did Herond understand.
What Redemberg had given him was not a fatigue-relieving potion—it was poison.
A deadly poison infused with powerful holy power.
“Hngh, ugh, why poison me…?”
Even as he bled and neared death, a calm voice reached his ears.
“So it is as I thought.”
What did that mean?
After serving the Demon King with utmost loyalty, the reward was almost death?
Herond fainted, unable to even close his eyes from indignation.
* * *
“Hagh—!”
When he opened his eyes, Herond looked around.
Half-dead on the floor moments ago, he now found himself awake on a cozy bed.
He was in a luxurious bedroom reserved only for high-ranking nobles within the Demon King’s castle.
Why am I here?
For someone from a fallen noble family like Herond, this place was far too extravagant.
“An hour.”
Redemberg’s voice, leaning slightly on the chair beside the bed, snapped Herond fully awake.
“Y-Your Majesty?”
Herond could not understand the situation at all.
Blinking his violet eyes, he nervously glanced at Redemberg.
“It will take some time for my magic to fully neutralize the poison.”
“Y-you mean… you healed me yourself?”
Herond was moved knowing that Redemberg had personally used his magic to treat him.
And even carried him to the bedroom.
The fact that he had almost died from poison given by the Demon King was completely forgotten.
“Th-thank you, Your Majesty! I thought you’d dispose of me since I’m no longer useful… I, Herond, will continue to serve you faithfully!”
Herond’s heartfelt vow, unfortunately, went unheard by Redemberg.
His mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of Ehilie.
The fatigue-relieving potion he had given Herond was actually made by Ehilie.
Redemberg had watched every moment as she prepared it.
She didn’t even infuse it with holy power.
Yet the potion contained holy power so potent that it could make Herond vomit blood and nearly die—far stronger than the effect felt through minor contact.
It was comparable to taking a direct hit from a high priest.
So the holy water I drank before must have been made by her too.
Pure liquids naturally carry holy power.
Ehilie was unknowingly producing holy water.
Her holy power must overflow to the point that she isn’t even aware of it herself.
There was no way someone with such overflowing holy power could be an ordinary person.
Perhaps Ehilie was…
She really is a saint.
Pure white hair and piercing blue eyes.
And overflowing holy power.
Redemberg was certain.
Ehilie was a being created by the gods to kill the Demon King—a saint.
If she really was a saint…
So what if she’s a saint?
Whether Ehilie was a saint or not was not important to Redemberg.
What mattered was how he could make her like him.
* * *
After several days of meeting with Rek, Ehilie made a decision.
Today, she would firmly tell him to stop visiting so often.
She knew Rek was not a bad person, but such frequent visits were overwhelming.
She had tried to bring it up a few times before.
“Um, Rek. Is your home nearby?”
“Not particularly.”
“I’ve never ridden in a carriage, so I don’t know.”
“What? You’ve never been in a carriage?”
Ehilie was taken aback.
Could a person really have never ridden in a carriage?
“Then how do you usually travel?”
“By teleportation…”
“…Teleportation?!”
Rek paused at Ehilie’s shocked reaction.
For the briefest moment, a trace of embarrassment crossed his otherwise indifferent face.
Only two types of people could use teleportation as a means of travel.
Either an advanced mage capable of teleportation, or someone using a teleportation stone crafted by such a mage.
Teleportation was a high-level magic not accessible to just anyone.
There are very few mages in the empire with that level of skill and control.
The possibility that Rek was such an advanced mage…
Faded almost immediately from her mind.
That can’t be.
To contain magic powerful enough for advanced teleportation, one would need a strong, sturdy body.
A weak man, prone to vomiting blood and collapsing from chronic illness, could never reach that level.
That left only one possibility.
“Are you using a teleportation stone?”
Rek nodded immediately.
“Yes. I use a teleportation stone.”
“Every time?”
Judging by his reaction, he seemed to consider it perfectly normal.
Ehilie was stunned.
A single teleportation stone cost roughly a month’s living expenses for a well-off commoner.
Using one every time instead of a carriage meant…
How rich must he be?
Ehilie’s suspicions, which had just settled, flared up again.
A handsome man with a strong body, a unique personality, a tragic past, and immense wealth could not possibly be just an extra.
Such an extravagant set of traits for a character not mentioned by name was overkill.
There’s no doubt. Rek must be a significant character in the original story.
Ehilie had fled to avoid entanglements with original story characters.
She did not want any more entanglement with him.
Knock, knock.
At the familiar knock, Ehilie jumped up.
“Rek, from now on—”
As she opened the door and spoke firmly, she faltered.
The man standing there was not Rek.
“Rek? Who is this?”
A man with messy, spiky hair tilted his head.
Seeing his face, Ehilie stiffened and spat out coldly.
“Why are you here?”
“Why? Can’t a family member drop by to see you?”
Family?
Ehilie let out a bitter laugh.
“Since when did you consider me family?”
“Huh? How can you speak to your older brother like that? Ehilie, did you just decide to leave home?”
The man leaning casually over the doorway was Ehilie’s older brother, Cain.
The claim that Rek had no family or siblings had been a lie.
In truth, Ehilie did have family.
A family that was no better than strangers—more like garbage than human.
