Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 81
The girl wasn’t royalty or of aristocratic stock, and Iora didn’t have the knight guarding her all day long.
It was late at night, so after a quick goodbye and dismissal, Iora fell into a deep slumber. Her exhausted body welcomed the embrace of sleep without hesitation, like sinking into a swamp.
And then she dreamed.
“Ugh!”
When she woke up again after only a few hours of sleep, the full moon was bright in the pale blue sky. She was covered in a sticky, cold sweat. Her dreams were a jumble of different scenes.
There was Sol, pleading with tears for her to witness the ending. She saw herself before her regression, longing for love and weeping. And finally, there was the pain of the moment when a sword pierced her heart.
“Oh… this won’t do….”
Sleep was out of the question. Iora got up from her bed and started walking wherever her feet took her. Thankfully, the moonlight was bright enough that she didn’t need a lantern. As she walked and walked, a serene garden revealed itself.
Even in a mansion off the beaten path, it felt like I was deep in the middle of nowhere. It was a particularly secluded place where the leafy trees that surrounded it were untended by gardeners.
Oddly enough, she found it rather comforting.
“Here, I can truly be myself.”
While it was great to awaken the power of the Saint, there were rarely any opportunities to unleash it. This resulted in a restless feeling within Iora, as if the pent-up energy inside her was simmering, unable to be released, much like a boiling kettle that couldn’t let out steam.
In the wee hours of the night, during peculiar and secretive moments, the only thing she saw was the large moon shining down.
Iora sat comfortably, spreading her skirt around her. In the chilly night air, she pondered how to utilize this power. Flipping through the knowledge she had learned about the Saint in her mind, one thought crossed her mind.
“Hmm…”
She wasn’t sure if this would work, but Iora’s voice was surprisingly melodic, and she had always been curious about how her singing voice might sound. So, she cautiously opened her mouth and began to sing. With closed eyes and outstretched hands, she infused the power of the Saint resonating within her chest into her voice.
“Ah-ah…”
After singing a verse, Iora was taken aback.
“Wow.”
If she were in Korea, she might become a superstar, rivaling famous singers…. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps Iora’s singing ability was so extraordinary that it made her think it was the reason why she was chosen by the gods to be the Saint.
Kim Jiyeon’s lifelong wish was to escape being tone-deaf and to sing well. She had such a grating voice that even Sol, who was the heaviest sleeper she knew, would wake up angrily when she sang. But to overcome tone-deafness like this!
Afterwards, Iora ran excitedly. Sometimes she hummed songs that she had just written and composed, and she sang popular songs that had swept Korea from the 90s to the early 2000s, which she personally liked.
Still, her throat didn’t hurt, and she was unaware that her singing mixed with her power made the surrounding lush trees and bushes bloom even more. Before she knew it, birds had flown in, looking at the midnight stage with amused eyes.
And she didn’t realize that another visitor was watching her curiously, drawn by the beauty and power of her voice.
* * *
When he first caught that sweet scent, he thought it was just his imagination. The idea of someone nearby using the power of a saint seemed absurd. The time for awakening was still far away, and there couldn’t possibly be another saint.
But unbelievably, it was true. Finally, he found the owner of that scent.
‘How is this possible? Has God gone mad?’
Among the living, there would be few who knew about saints as well as he did. It was a unique situation with two saint candidates born, but it was certain that one of them would become the saint.
But now that rule seemed to have been broken.
‘She hasn’t even turned 18 yet.’
The girl he’d found already possessed the power of a saint, and was even using it. Vigros watched her sitting under the moonlight, secretly trying to contain the spreading power of the widely spread song.
How could a girl who hadn’t gone through the steps in the Cave of Awakening become a saint, he wondered. Normally, he would have slit her throat for faking her powers, but…
Vigros’s eyes widened in disbelief.
‘It’s real.’
Iora. Iora von Ribandt.
Even Vigros, who was indifferent to the surrounding situation, knew the name well.
She was Ovid’s unfortunate fiancée, the rejected saint candidate. She was a girl who people only had criticism for.
People laughed at the idea of her being a saint, calling her foolish and ambitious. The standards of sainthood are completely different from those of ordinary humans. Yet, it was disgustingly amusing how someone would be confirmed as a saint based on their outward appearance and advantages, while others would be branded as jealous and despicable false saints.
‘Look. I don’t know how this happened, but she’s real, isn’t she?’
He was as mesmerized as the birds perched on the branches. Suddenly, he slipped and stepped on a fallen leaf, making a noise.
The sweet melody abruptly stopped, replaced by silence. He wondered if he should flee, but then his eyes locked with Iora’s as she whirled around.
“…”
“…”
Should he yell? But that would only complicate things. That’s what he thought for a moment.
The expression slowly began to spread like a wave over Iora’s face as she looked at him. She was smiling like she had just met someone she was so happy to see.
He wondered if it was the spreading hem of her pink dress and the roses dotted on it, but sitting there, Iora looked like a majestic flower in full bloom.
