Chapter 62
“During the sanctification, I sensed a faint trace of divine power from you, Lady.”
“My divine power? You can identify someone’s divine power?”
“In exceptional cases, like with the Holy Knight Commander, yes.”
“But I’m not like that, am I? You never said anything like this before.”
“That’s true. Before, your divine power was indistinguishable from any other.”
“Then…”
“In the short time we’ve been apart, your divine power has grown significantly. What used to be a faint, clean energy has multiplied—by dozens of times.”
What the hell?
Louisa’s mouth dropped open.
“The rate of growth is astonishing. At this pace, you may soon surpass the Commander himself.”
“That much?”
“Yes. Did something happen recently? Being near the Commander wouldn’t cause this alone. It’s as if you were… stimulated by something…”
Priest Yorhan trailed off, falling silent. His gaze deepened, as though needing time to think.
“This isn’t just purifying my body anymore…”
Things were far too different from the original timeline.
If she had possessed this level of power in the original story, the original Louisa would’ve bragged about it endlessly.
There’d have been no reason to pretend to be a saint or go out of her way to torment Bella.
Could even innate abilities change because of divergence from the original plot?
Or perhaps, as Yorhan suggested, her divine power had been rapidly triggered by some external stimulus… or maybe a sealed power had been awakened…
“What am I, the host of some black flame dragon or something?”
Louisa scoffed at her own fantasy and ended the thought. Just then, her eyes met Yorhan’s—he seemed to have reached a conclusion.
“I’m starting to think purification may not be the only aspect of your power.”
“You’re right. This change is so sudden…”
“No, not a change—perhaps a release. As if a hidden power has been set free.”
“Pardon?”
“I don’t think I can help you with my limited knowledge, Lady.”
“Ah… Should I ask the Commander, then? But would he know much about divine power?”
And would it be okay to even reveal all of this?
She barely swallowed down the last part of her sentence and waited for his reply.
A faint smile appeared on Yorhan’s lips.
“There are others besides him who are extraordinary. The High Priests’ divine powers are often distinct, marked by unique energies.”
“The High Priests? But I thought you were special, too. If you don’t know, isn’t it unlikely they would?”
Talking to the wrong person could be dangerous.
With a so-called ‘saint’ already making headlines, if news got out that someone possessed this kind of divine power, chaos would only grow.
Especially with the Empress already keeping tabs on her, drawing more attention would only backfire.
“You may be right. That’s why I believe it’s best for you to meet someone who can truly discern your power.”
Wait—no way. Louisa’s eyes widened.
“Lady, I believe you should see the Archbishop.”
“The Archbishop? Just because my divine power grew a little? Isn’t that overkill?”
The Archbishop?! This was spiraling out of control.
“It’s not ‘just a little.’ Absolutely not.”
“No, but still, the Archbishop is a bit…”
“Lady Louisa.”
His voice was gentle but firm.
“We’ve passed the point where this can be hidden. It’s time you see the truth for yourself.”
Louisa’s lavender eyes trembled ever so slightly.
Louisa stared blankly at the single sanctified flower in her hand.
“If I meet the Archbishop… do I have to tell my family, too?”
She couldn’t keep hiding her condition forever.
The people who believed she was terminally ill had been exhausting themselves trying to care for her.
Their thoughtful gestures, their efforts to learn and do things for her—sometimes, it made her feel like her own lie was crushing her chest with guilt.
“But… should I tell them about this ability?”
She’d launched the wine business knowing that Duke Blake, who valued strength as a knight, wouldn’t take much interest and would dismiss it as petty merchant work.
Of course, when it came time to tell Damian, she had unconsciously tiptoed around him—but divine power? That was a different beast entirely.
Especially since it was powerful enough to make sanctified flowers bloom—people would exaggerate and start calling her a saint.
That was a far cry from just making money on the side.
Gaining such noble recognition would easily overshadow her as the daughter of House Blake.
“This world’s no different. Firstborn sons are favored. Daughters just need to marry well.”
If she drew too much attention…
The warm gazes she had received would surely turn cold.
Louisa bit her lower lip hard.
No matter how kindly they had treated her, perhaps it had only been possible because they thought she was dying.
Anxiety crept in, and soon a cascade of negative thoughts began to dominate her mind.
“I don’t want that.”
She let out a long sigh and bowed her head low.
The room was silent, in stark contrast to her racing thoughts.
Only the sound of her breathing filled the air—until a sudden commotion outside the window broke the quiet.
“…What’s going on?”
It was too noisy to ignore.
Frowning, Louisa walked to the window.
In that moment, her heart froze—then began to pound rapidly.
Thud.
Louisa sprinted out of her room—toward the Duke being carried in on a stretcher.
It was the first time anything like this had happened.
Duke Blake had never returned to the manor in such a state.
There was no time to hide his condition.
All the staff huddled silently, while the family physician ran to the Duke’s chambers.
“Brother, what happened?!”
Louisa grabbed Damian by the arm, who stood in front of the Duke’s room.
His face was pale—he’d apparently gone out with the Duke and returned with him.
Damian’s violet eyes, which had been staring blankly at the physician, hesitated before turning to Louisa.
He twisted his lips into what was clearly meant to be a reassuring smile—but it came out awkward and forced.
“Don’t. Just tell me the truth.”
Louisa caught on instantly and spoke firmly.
Her intense gaze and tight grip made Damian’s lips part reluctantly.
“…We were ambushed by a large horde of monsters. There’s never been that many before.”
“Is that how he got hurt?”
“No. I mean, there were a lot, but nothing Father couldn’t handle. He did get injured, but it wasn’t serious—just wounds that could easily be healed with holy water…”
“Then why did he collapse?!”
“I don’t know. He just suddenly collapsed right after we exited the tunnel…”
Tunnel?
Louisa looked at the bewildered Damian, then turned her head sharply as the Duke let out a faint groan.
Damian rushed to his side.
“Father! Are you alright? The priest will be here soon!”
“G…go…”
“…What?”
“Hah… Evacuate… e-everyone…”
“What are you saying?!”
“If we stay… t-together… we’re in danger…”
Louisa’s eyelashes trembled.
The Duke and Damian looked like they were moving in slow motion, like in a black-and-white film.
Something was very wrong.
In the original story, Duke Blake’s life had never once been in danger.
He was always strong and steadfast.
Even when the empire faced threats from monsters, the North had always remained safe under his watch.
And now, he had returned home injured.
“Because the plot changed…?”
Her mouth went dry.
Until now, she’d thought it was fine—just avoid danger, keep a low profile, ditch the villainess role, and live quietly.
Sure, things in the plot had changed, but she hadn’t wanted to worry about anything beyond that.
But she never imagined that the changes would involve Duke Blake.
She had assumed the Duke and Damian would be fine—how wrong she was.
Now, there was nothing she could take for granted anymore.
Louisa, trembling in the face of this surreal situation, exhaled shakily—then flinched and furrowed her brows.
…Wait?
A strange, burning smell suddenly hit her nose.
And the moment she fully registered it, color spread around her—starting from the Duke—like paint seeping across a canvas.
She blinked and looked around as the world resumed its normal pace.
Then she closed her eyes tightly—and opened them again.
“This smell… is it burning firewood?”
“P-pardon?”
She turned to a nearby servant and grabbed them.
“Don’t you smell something? Like… something’s burning?”
“I… I’m not sure. I don’t smell anything burning. If anything, there’s a faint scent of blood…”
The servant trailed off nervously, and Louisa gave them a puzzled look.
They can’t smell it?
All she could smell was that burning scent—there wasn’t even a trace of blood to her nose.
She inhaled deeply again.
It wasn’t firewood. It was far more pungent and sticky.
Like sulfur—burning brimstone.
It wasn’t overpowering, but it was strong enough to announce itself clearly.
“I can feel miasma too… I thought it was just from the monster hunt, but… it’s too thick.”
