CHAPTER 63
Louisa hesitantly approached the Duke. He had been insisting on clearing the room, as if he knew something.
The attending physician had performed emergency treatment, but wore a grim expression, saying this was beyond his capabilities.
“Can the High Priest heal him when he arrives?”
“I don’t know. The priority right now isn’t treating the wounds but purifying the demonic energy. I asked for sacred flowers to be brought, so we’ll have to hope for their effect. But it’s too urgent… we’re running out of time.”
The physician lowered his head. His trembling voice was heavy with despair.
“Urgent…?”
At that moment, a sharp voice snapped Louisa out of her thoughts. It was Damien, shouting at the Duke to wake up.
Louisa turned her gaze and saw that Damien had abandoned his usual calm and now showed unfiltered fear. Following his desperate eyes, she looked down at the Duke.
He had already lost consciousness and was groaning in pain. Half of his body looked as if it were being consumed by shadows—so dark it stung her eyes to see.
Louisa moved her lips, forcing the words out like a squeezed breath.
“I’ll get it…!”
“What?”
“…Louisa?!”
There was no need for further explanation. Without time to think, her body acted first. She turned and sprinted madly toward the greenhouse where she had been earlier.
“Huff, huff…”
Her nose stung. For some reason, she was especially out of breath. Upon reaching the greenhouse, she collapsed to her knees. Her actions seemed like she was possessed—compelled by something unseen.
Louisa began yanking out sacred flowers in a frenzy, stuffing them into her arms until she could carry no more.
With every ragged breath, white steam spilled into the air. Some of the sacred flowers even fell along the hallway as she rushed back.
“Here! These are all sacred flowers!”
“Miss!”
As she burst into the room, shocked eyes turned toward her. But no one questioned whether the flowers were truly sacred—the pure, divine energy radiating from her made it unmistakable.
“How… how did you get all of these? Where did they come from?”
“The greenhouse. Is this enough? Where should I put them?”
“They absorb demonic energy, so place them around the Duke.”
A calm voice spoke from behind her. Whipping her head around, Louisa saw the newly arrived High Priest Yoran standing there. His earlier-than-expected arrival was met with relief and surprise.
“We were fortunate to meet the High Priest on his way back. We brought him quickly. The sacred flowers at the temple will be delivered by another priest. High Priest, will this quantity be sufficient?”
Brown, who had followed Yoran into the room, guided him to the Duke’s side.
“…It’s serious.”
By now, the sacred flowers Louisa had gathered were already arranged around the Duke.
“This can’t be resolved with sacred flowers alone. The demonic energy is too deeply rooted. It must be purified directly.”
“Purification?! Are you saying we need a Saintess?”
“Yes.”
Yoran’s eyes met Louisa’s. She was staring blankly at the Duke, her expression drained of all emotion.
Seeing the bloodless, pale face of Louisa, a hint of sorrow flashed in the High Priest’s eyes.
“…What happens if treatment is delayed?”
She asked in a dazed voice, without even blinking.
“He may never wake up.”
“Then… if he’s purified, will he wake up?”
“…Yes.”
Yoran hesitated before answering, knowing what she would do next.
She possessed great power, but avoided using it, even avoiding the Archbishop himself. She never wanted to draw attention to herself.
Just as he expected, Louisa’s dim eyes began to sparkle with determination as she stepped forward.
“Everyone except these three—please leave the room.”
She pointed at Damien, Brown, and Yoran, signaling everyone else to go.
The others looked wide-eyed at Damien, as if to say this was madness. Even Damien seemed stunned as he gently grabbed Louisa’s arm.
“I may be a humble servant of the divine, but please—trust me and grant her this.”
Before anyone else could object, Yoran bowed and spoke in support of Louisa’s request.
The crowd looked around, unsure what to do.
“High Priest, what are you doing?”
“There is a way to purify him.”
“…Purification? Without a Saintess, that’s impossible.”
“Time is critical. Please, follow the Lady’s request.”
Conflict passed over Damien’s face. He looked once at Yoran, then once at Louisa. Both of them met his gaze with unwavering confidence.
“…Clear the room.”
His hesitation didn’t last long. He released Louisa’s arm and ordered the others to leave. Those who had already been swayed by the High Priest quickly exited the room.
Yoran stepped aside. Brown, still uncertain, looked back at Louisa with trembling eyes.
Louisa knelt beside the bed and took the Duke’s hand. It was probably the first time she had touched him. His palm, hardened with calluses, was surprisingly cold despite how warm she imagined it would be.
‘I have to do this. At this pace, it won’t be enough.’
The sacred flowers were barely helping. Out of the many blossoms, only one petal showed the faintest tinge of black. They were ineffective.
Louisa wrapped her other hand around his as well. His hand, tainted with dark energy, stood in stark contrast to her snow-white hands. But as she held him, it was as if that darkness began to melt away.
“Please…”
As if praying, she brought his hand to her forehead, closed her eyes tightly, and began pouring out her divine power without holding back.
Whoosh—
A gentle breeze blew, and a brilliant white light blossomed from her fingertips—like a flower blooming in the air.
The miraculous sight left Damien and Brown speechless. The divine purity of the scene made their minds go blank.
And then, the miracle unfolded.
The demonic energy was swept away by the light, as if washed clean. From his hand to his shoulder, from his chest to his legs, and then from his legs to his face.
“Haah—”
With a deep, peaceful breath, the Duke’s color returned, and every trace of pain vanished. Louisa didn’t let go of his now-warming hand.
Damien, still staring blankly at the Duke’s peaceful expression, finally moved.
“Louisa…”
His voice cracked. Louisa flinched at the sound. A large hand moved slowly to brush her forehead, gently, as if comforting her.
Though the touch was weak, it was filled with warmth.
“Thank you.”
As she slowly lifted her head at that familiar, tender gesture, her eyes met the Duke’s half-open ones.
Louisa thought to herself, why does my nose sting again?
“Thank goodness. If he continues to rest like this, he should make a full recovery.”
The Duke of Blake underwent two follow-up checks—first from High Priest Yoran, then from the returning physician called in by Damien.
The physician, clearly bewildered by what had happened while he was away, simply laughed in disbelief at the Duke’s fully healed state before leaving.
Yoran also made to leave, but the Duke, leaning against the headboard, spoke.
“Thank you. I’ll properly thank you another time.”
“Please, don’t mention it. I barely did anything. Until next time.”
After visiting the Duke’s manor twice in one day, it had clearly been a long day for High Priest Yoran as well.
When Louisa gave him a grateful nod, he responded with a much more relaxed smile and left the room.
“I’ll escort the High Priest out.”
Brown, sensing the moment, carefully closed the door behind him. Silence filled the room.
‘…God, this is insane.’
Now that her senses had returned, Louisa blinked slowly in fatigue. Everything she had tried to hide had been revealed so easily.
The sacred flowers she’d planted in secret, her divine power that she’d kept hidden for so long.
What now? She stared blankly into space, feeling overwhelmed.
“Are you alright? You didn’t push yourself too hard?”
The unexpected question made Louisa look at Damien in surprise.
She had expected questions like “What was that just now?” or “What kind of power did you use?”—but instead, he simply worried about her health.
“…I’m just a little tired. Not in pain.”
“Tired means you overdid it. Shouldn’t you get some rest?”
“Uh… yeah… but aren’t you going to ask?”
Damien’s fussing was no different from usual. Seeing his ever-consistent concern, Louisa was the first to mention it herself.
“Louisa. If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to.”
But the answer came from someone else.
It was the Duke, staring at her so intently it felt like he could pierce her cheek.
