Chapter 55: Moths Drawn to the Flame

“Is there any progress?”

Brikal’s bedroom.

True to a king consumed by vanity, arrogance, and indulgence, even the bedframe was gilded.

Brikal lay upon it, while Akaron, standing nearby with a somber expression, posed the question.

On the other side, Priest Els stood, his hand glowing with a faint blue healing light as he channeled it into Brikal.

He shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“…Hmm. What is his condition?”

“There is no internal bleeding, and the wounds at the severed areas have healed. However… he has not regained consciousness.”

“The bleeding has stopped, and the injuries have healed, yet he remains unconscious. How is that possible?”

“It feels as if he has entered a state of hibernation.”

“What… hibernation?”

Akaron furrowed his brow in confusion at Els’s words.

Hibernation—the deep sleep that animals enter to endure harsh winters. But why was such a term being used here?

Els ceased his flow of blue healing mana, tilting his head repeatedly.

“Despite the healing of his external and internal injuries… it seems unlikely that his condition is due to simple shock-induced fainting. It’s as though he’s fallen into a deep slumber.”

“Hmm…”

Akaron stroked his chin, puzzled by the incomprehensible diagnosis.

If only Brikal would awaken soon and restore the honey-dripping beehive he had maintained.

Yet, as the priest claimed, Brikal remained lying peacefully, as if lost in a tranquil sleep.

Just then, the door to the chamber opened, and Lephon, now the captain of the royal knights, entered, carrying his steel helm under one arm.

His expression was grave.

“What’s the matter, Lephon?”

“Well… the saintess is nowhere to be found. We’ve searched the entire royal palace.”

“What?”

Akaron raised an eyebrow, staring at Lephon.

“Saintess Yuria is missing? Have you searched thoroughly?”

The saintess, bound by her covenant with the divine, could not leave the palace grounds until her holy power was depleted.

She had always moved between the Holy Tower and the palace, never disappearing without notice since her arrival from the Holy Land.

Akaron initially dismissed the news, but he soon realized the gravity of the situation.

“We’ve conducted a thorough search for three hours but found no trace of her. Even the knights guarding the Holy Tower report that she left, claiming she was headed to the palace, and has not returned since.”

“What…?”

The palace was vast, but not so expansive that she could vanish entirely after three hours of searching.

Moreover, the palace was filled with attendants and officials. For her whereabouts to remain a mystery for three hours meant one thing—she had gone into hiding.

“The last person to see the saintess was a guard stationed at the northern gate. He claims I summoned her, but I gave no such order.”

“Then… it’s highly likely she slipped out through the northern gate while the guard was distracted?”

“…That seems to be the case.”

“No, that’s impossible. She wouldn’t be able to leave the palace until her holy power was…”

Akaron trailed off, his aged pupils trembling faintly as realization struck.

She couldn’t leave unless her holy power was depleted. If her power had run out, however, leaving became possible.

His mind replayed the moment of Emilia’s betrayal. He had witnessed her rebellion but failed to foresee Duvel’s subsequent act of treachery.

Yes, something had been strange back then.

Her ceaseless sobbing had felt oddly out of place.

“C-Could it be… that her holy power is depleted?!”

Even that seemed strange.

If her holy power was gone, she could have informed the Holy Order and prepared for a peaceful retirement.

Why would she flee unless she had committed an act of heresy?

“What should we do, Lord Akaron?”

“Ah… wait. I don’t understand. Why would the saintess run away?”

“I don’t know the reason, but if she has truly gone into hiding, we must act swiftly…”

“No… hiding? Why would the saintess… Ugh.”

As if the comatose Brikal weren’t enough trouble, the sudden escape of the saintess made Akaron feel dizzy.

Clutching his throbbing forehead, he staggered, and Lephon hurriedly supported him.

“Ugh… What on earth is happening? Issue an absolute silence order within the palace. Select a few trustworthy men and have them discreetly pursue the saintess. This must not leak.”

“Understood. I will handle it.”

Lephon saluted and exited the chamber, leaving Akaron seated on the chair by Brikal’s bedside.

With a heavy sigh, Akaron placed his hand back on his forehead and glanced at Brikal, who lay peacefully as if asleep.

“What is happening, Your Majesty?”

The saintess had fled.

This was an unprecedented event in history—utterly unheard of.

There must have been something deeply incriminating that drove her to escape, likely connected to heresy.

But the details of that incrimination were known only to Brikal and Yuria, leaving Akaron deeply troubled.

“Yuria… what did you see?”

If it wasn’t heresy, perhaps she had seen something in her final moments of possessing holy power.

Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to bode well.

With a heavy sigh, Akaron rose from his seat.

Finding the saintess before the Holy Order learned of this was now a top priority.

No, before the kingdom learned of her escape, she had to be brought back to the Holy Tower.

Brikal’s collapse had already destabilized the monarchy. If rumors of the saintess’s disappearance spread, it could ignite a rebellion among the nobles.

In such chaos, battles over power and interests would plunge the kingdom into turmoil.

As regent, even Akaron’s position would not be safe.

No matter what it took, he had to bring her back.

“Good grief… I must visit the Great Sage.”

Without delay, he headed for the eastern annex of the palace, where the Great Sage Warlock resided.

Hidden in the shadow of her hood, Yuria’s face was steeped in indescribable fear.

She couldn’t even remember how many years had passed since she last ventured outside the palace.

Confused and terrified.

Yuria was now walking southward after exiting the northern gate of the palace.

Passing through the deserted red-light district at midday, she froze with panic whenever she encountered a single person, unable to breathe, nervously looking around.

Her appearance was nothing short of pitiful.

Once a sacred and revered saintess, Yuria now found herself fleeing, consumed by fear.

Yet, there was no turning back.

Her descent into corruption was like a wagon careening down a steep hill—unstoppable until it crashed to pieces.

Just like her current self.

She didn’t know where this downhill path would end, but like a wagon gaining speed as it descended, she would keep hurtling forward until the inevitable end.

All that awaited her was a fall, and she could only hope there would be some wretched refuge at the bottom.

Like a lost foal, Yuria scanned her surroundings nervously as she walked.

To anyone watching, her behavior seemed suspicious, but she was oblivious.

This was a desperate escape for survival.

She had fled with no plan or preparation, carrying nothing with her.

She didn’t even have her holy shoes, walking barefoot with no possessions to her name.

The only items she had were a rosary she couldn’t let go of, even after committing heresy, and a sacred necklace gifted to her by Saintess Luschua of the Holy Empire.

‘What should I do…’

She couldn’t keep wandering aimlessly.

Staying hidden within the royal palace would lead to her capture sooner rather than later.

First, she needed to leave the palace and move to another territory.

Living alone in the wilderness, where monsters and bandits roamed, would be tantamount to suicide.

With that in mind, Yuria made her way to the merchant guild.

“Welcome.”

“…Excuse me. Are there any caravans departing for the nearest territory as soon as possible?”

The guild attendant cast a skeptical glance at her deeply hooded figure but didn’t press further.

After all, hooded cloaks were a common garment.

The attendant shuffled through some documents before pointing at one.

“Hmm. The nearest territory is the Rosell Duchy. There’s a caravan leaving for there at dawn tomorrow.”

“Oh… May I know the name of the caravan?”

When Yuria asked, the attendant leaned in, trying to peer beneath her hood. She quickly turned her face away.

“You’re not a knight escorting the caravan, and you don’t look strong enough to be a porter. Why are you asking about the caravan?”

If her identity were revealed here, everything would be over. Yet, she couldn’t linger in the guild.

Steeling herself, Yuria snatched the document from the attendant and checked the name of the caravan scheduled to leave at dawn.

[Ridis Caravan]

“You insolent woman! Are you insane? Bring that back right now!”

The attendant, furious at her sudden grab, rolled up his sleeves and rose from his seat, but—smack!—a bundle of papers hit him square in the face. Stumbling, he clutched his nose.

“Damn it! You crazy wench!”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose where the corner of the papers had struck, he looked up, but Yuria was already gone.

“Damn it! Who the hell was that? If I catch her, she’s dead!”

“Huff… huff… huff…”

Yuria ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her hooded cloak billowing behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed in relief when she saw no one chasing her.

Ridis Caravan.

Her only option was to stow away on that caravan departing at dawn to reach the Rosell Duchy.

It was risky, but it was the only way.

With no identification and her identity to conceal, this was the only method available to move between territories.

Wherever her destination might be or whatever means she used, her priority was to leave the palace. She had no time to weigh her options.

If this was the fate of the fallen, then she had no choice but to entrust herself to destiny.

Hiding in the cargo hold of the Ridis Caravan, she could only pray she would escape the palace safely and reach the Rosell Duchy.

Meanwhile, at that very moment, Rosell stood by a window, a troubled look on his face after receiving an urgent message about the saintess’s escape.

As one of Brikal’s closest confidants and the lord of the territory closest to the capital, Akaron had sent the urgent message to Rosell, hoping for his cooperation in tracking down the saintess.

Knowing Rosell’s loyalty to Brikal and his deep affection for the kingdom, Akaron trusted him to assist in secrecy.

After all, Rosell was not someone who would exploit chaos to seize power.

Akaron’s trust in Rosell was absolute, yet he was unaware that Rosell had long since shed the mask he had carefully worn.

“So, Yuria… in the end, you made that choice.”

Rosell muttered somberly, his voice heavy.

He could understand her crimes, committed as they were in the name of fate.

Saintess Yuria had no other choice but to do so.

But what came after—that was entirely her decision.

The ultimate outcome of that choice was also hers to bear.

Of course, he understood that her circumstances had limited her options.

But even limited options didn’t always lead to foolish decisions.

Had she chosen to reveal that her divine power was long gone and that she had been exploited by Brikal, it would have been a better path.

She could have confessed her sins and sought leniency.

Although heresy was punishable by immediate execution, if it were revealed that her actions had been coerced rather than voluntary, the Holy Order might have spared her life.

She would have had to pay for her crimes, but at least she could have survived.

Had she chosen such atonement, Rosell would have accepted responsibility and helped her to the fullest extent.

Instead, Yuria rejected the uncertain leniency and atonement, choosing the arrogance of forging her own path.

Rosell couldn’t help but feel pity for her.

Her choice, shortsighted and blind to the future, was deeply regrettable.

He had hoped she would make a wiser decision, but for a human who had become so weak, wisdom seemed like a luxury she could no longer afford.

“Yuria…”

Rosell stared wistfully out the window, worrying about her as if she were a moth flying toward a flame, unaware of the burns awaiting her.

His concerns only deepened.