Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 2
Rough hands came upon her, and she was engulfed in agony like never before.
She had thought she had hit rock bottom enough in her life, but it wasn’t the end. There was always further to fall, and Irene was forced to taste the despair of depths she didn’t know existed.
“I wouldn’t do such a thing! Please, believe me!”
Even as she desperately cried out her innocence, no one listened. They only grew angrier at her.
“Your lack of remorse is still disgusting.”
“That’s why she dared to harm the saint.”
“Inflict as much pain as possible.”
“Just die already!”
No matter what she showed, she was only condemned.
“No, I wouldn’t do it!”
She barely held onto her life, but that was only because the Goddess had not yet descended.
Yet, it seemed they intended to keep her alive until the day the saint candidate was officially chosen as the saint.
And they didn’t bother hiding that thought at all. Everyone was excessively cruel to Irene.
No, Burt was a bit different, was he not?
But even he didn’t harbor any special feelings toward Irene. He simply treated her with basic courtesy because she was a saint candidate.
Yet, even that made her happy. She foolishly rejoiced, knowing that such sentiments wouldn’t change anything.
Irene regretted it.
She shouldn’t have relied on anyone in the first place.
She resented her past self who had thought that someday her father, brother, or another king might look back at her.
She wished she had ended her life sooner.
With belated, bitter regret, Irene moved towards death.
And then, at that moment, the voice of the awaited Goddess echoed.
「I declare. The saint of this generation is Irene. It is her.」
However, the person in question didn’t hear those words properly. With a broken and exhausted body, she leaned over the railing towards the dark tower below.
Because of this, she was unaware of the commotion that had erupted in the temple due to the unexpected proclamation.
With hands clasped, frozen, it was different from what was expected, Ramiel stood still. She questioned the steward standing next to her, doubting her own ears.
“Have I heard it wrong?”
But she was too shocked to speak.
“I must have heard it wrong? Do you think so too?”
Ramiel kept asking, but there was no one to answer her. Their attention was already elsewhere.
Even the four rulers were no different.
“What did the Goddess just say?”
“Is what I heard true?”
The uncertainty was palpable in their voices. Faces hardened like stone at the unbelievable story.
Luckily, Burt quickly grasped the situation and tried to find Irene’s whereabouts.
Despite the temple being packed and the chaos caused by the Goddess’s voice echoing, she was nowhere to be seen.
It was only belatedly that Burt realized this, he couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh at this unbelievable situation. Despite the absence of the saint candidate, no one seemed to care. Not even himself.
“So, where is she then?”
At Burt’s words, the expressions of the other kings turned pale.
It was inevitable. The woman just appointed as the saint would now be imprisoned in the Tower of Death, undergoing torture.
The unbelievable reality shook their very core.
“No, is that woman really the chosen saint of this era? Could the oracle have been wrong?”
Shah-Naz squeezed out his words in protest, but Burt’s response was cold.
“Are you suggesting that the goddess’s choice was mistaken?”
“No, that’s not what he meant.”
Sage, the King of the West, tried to defend Shah-Naz, but Burt ignored him.
“Then what did he mean?”
“Well, that’s…!”
“I-Isn’t there something more urgent to address right now?” –
Sage, silencing Shah-Naz’s attempt to respond again, redirected the conversation, and Burt nodded, relenting.
If further pressed, they could have potentially proven Shah-Naz’s blasphemy, but that wasn’t the urgency at hand.
For now, securing the safety of the newly appointed Saint was paramount.
“Yes, that’s right. So, where is the candidate who just became the Saint? She’s nowhere to be seen.”
Burt’s gaze pierced through the other kings fiercely. A foreboding sensation crept in, furrowing brows involuntarily.
At that moment, Garan, who had remained silent until now, gazed toward the Tower of Death.
From generation to generation, the Tower tainted by darkness, where heretics were disposed of, even children stopped their cries upon hearing its name.
It was that dreadful a place.
“This is madness. Could they really have sent the Saint candidate to the Tower of Death?”
Despite discussing holding off until the verdict of the assassination suspicion came, it seemed they had no intention of keeping that promise.
He can’t fathom what they were thinking.
Regardless of her appearance, Irene was undeniably a Saint candidate. At least until her innocence was confirmed, she should have been protected at all costs.
Even if they were young kings, they should have been able to make that judgment. It was indeed mind-boggling.
