༺ Eyes of a Dragon and the Human Heart (55) ༻
Within the Temple’s intensive care unit, a profound silence had settled.
In stark contrast, outside the Temple, a throng of people crowded the streets, drawn together by the aftermath of the recent demonic beast attacks.
The assault, involving hundreds of demonic creatures, had left the city and its inhabitants reeling from unimaginable devastation.
Yet, the identity of the mastermind behind this unprecedented invasion remained shrouded in mystery.
While the silence among the Academy’s professors hinted at hidden knowledge, the broader populace outside engaged in fervent speculation and debate.
Some attributed the surge in demonic activity to events surrounding the recent Hunting Festival, while bolder voices pointed accusatory fingers at a secret biolab established by the Imperial Family.
According to this theory, a mishap within the lab had led to the escape of the demonic beasts, resulting in the assault on the Academy.
There were various theories, but without an official announcement from the Academy, all this debate was pointless.
After all, it was hard to make plausible theories when there was such a lack of information.
Yet, amid the cacophony of conjecture, one rumor stood out prominently—the tale of one man.
He had roamed the battlefield, rescuing numerous students, surprisingly including those who hated and bullied him.
Given that many within the Academy had partaken in his torment, the ripple effect of this rumor reverberated deeply.
Why? Because humans had a tendency to be captivated by the unexpected complexities of an individual’s character.
But, contrary to the commotion outside, the interior of the Temple was sparsely populated.
In the hushed corridors of the Temple, the only sound was the hurried footsteps of priests darting from room to room.
Due to the sudden surge in workload, the Temple had imposed a ban on visits, unable to cope with the influx of patients already under their care.
It was a necessary measure, albeit a painful one for those turned away at the Temple’s entrance. Yet, amidst the chaos, saving lives remained the top priority.
However, it was impossible for the Temple to ban entry to everyone.
It was because occasionally, dignitaries that were far beyond the Temple’s authority visited.
Seated in Ian’s hospital room was one such figure—a young woman with hair as dark as the night sky and gray eyes clouded with regret and concern.
The 5th Princess of the Empire, Cien.
Until recently, she had been undergoing treatment at the Temple herself. Since her injuries were not severe, she was quickly allowed to leave. However, she insisted on paying one last visit to Ian’s bedside.
As she gazed upon the pallid face of the man before her, Cien’s emotions churned within her.
It’s my fault.
So many lay here, pale and bloodless, because of her actions. And countless others had already succumbed to their injuries, their lifeless forms a grim reminder of her powerlessness.
The Head Maid, the escort knights, and all the patients within these walls were here because of her—After all, she was the Dark Order’s target.
Today’s disaster had been orchestrated with such intent. Though casualties had been minimal, it did little to alleviate Cien’s guilt.
Yet, amidst her torment, a flicker of relief surfaced—a deceptive emotion that only served to deepen her self-loathing.
But she couldn’t deny it. After all, the most precious person to her had survived.
The person who had shown her genuine kindness for the first time and had bravely endured countless trials to protect others now lay peacefully asleep.
As Cien reached out to gently touch Ian’s cheek, her trembling hand froze at the sound of a voice shattering the silence of the night.
“Due to an overdose of drugs, his internal organs are melting away. He also has multiple fractures and severe internal bleeding. It’s a miracle he held on for as long as he did. Most likely, it was his mana that kept him going.”
A woman with silver hair emerged from the shadows, her light pink eyes betraying a quiet calmness that belied her true feelings.
Though her demeanor remained composed, Cien knew better. Behind those serene eyes lay a storm of dissatisfaction
“No. It’s more than that. The mere act of survival itself is a miracle… He’s a fool who knows how to save others but not himself, as you can see.”
The princess bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment.
Each word uttered by the Saintess felt like a silent reproach, though Cien knew the benevolent woman would never intend such condemnation. Hearing her words, Cien fidgeted her fingers, feeling like a sinner.
The Saintess offered no further remarks, simply folding her arms and casting a sorrowful gaze upon Ian.
It took Cien a long while to gather the courage to speak.
“…Can he make a full recovery?”
“I’ve appealed to the Holy Nation and the Imperial Court. But healing him with holy power alone is impossible. He has suffered too many fatal wounds, after all…”
The Saintess paused, biting her lip as if struggling to hold back her sobs. It seemed like if she didn’t do so, she wouldn’t be able to hold back her emotions.
Though typically known for her unwavering warmth, Cien found herself too preoccupied with Ian’s well-being to notice the Saintess’s unusual behavior. After all, in her world, only Ian mattered now.
Summoning her resolve, Cien spoke up again.
“That…I will speak to His Majesty, my father, about Sir Ian, so…”
“Of course, you should.”
Cien inhaled sharply at the sudden shift in her demeanor. It was a tone she hadn’t heard in a long time.
Her gray eyes, which had been fixed only on that man, slowly turned towards the Saintess.
Her gaze, once fixed solely on Ian, turned toward the Saintess. Gone was the compassionate and kind Saintess; in its place stood a woman with cold eyes and a hardened expression.
“Whose fault is this, after all?” the Saintess demanded, her words dripping with accusation.
Cien’s eyes widened in shock. Even without the aid of her ‘Dragon’s Eyes,’ she could sense the Saintess’s animosity toward her. It was as if the woman wanted her dead.
Impossible. How could that be?
After all, no matter how upset she was, wasn’t she the symbol of love and sacrifice?
Cien shook her head a couple of times in a daze and when her pale gray eyes met the Saintess’s again, the previous hostility had vanished without a trace.
So it was a misunderstanding. The princess sighed, realizing she had misinterpreted the situation.
But the Saintess’s voice remained somber as she spoke.
“…It is time for his treatment. Please leave now, Sister Cien.”
With that final dismissal, Cien exited the Temple, her heart heavy with despair.
She had no idea how to atone for her actions once Ian regained consciousness. No, forget that. Was forgiveness even possible?
She couldn’t pinpoint where exactly things had gone wrong. From start to finish, hadn’t Cien been nothing but a burden to Ian?
Worse still, most of it was due to Cien’s schemes, driven by malice.
The princess, who had always exuded pride and boldness, now drooped her shoulders in defeat. However, she recognized that this outcome was inevitable.
Her somber thoughts were interrupted by the voice of a knight, panting as he ran.
“Your Highness!”
At the sound of his emotional voice, Cien shifted her gaze. It was the knight she had dispatched on a mission that morning, now returning.
It was a somewhat fortunate outcome.
After all, there was at least one less victim of this terrible incident.
But then, a memory snagged in Cien’s mind, like a stumbling block.
Huh, now that I think about it…
What orders had I given this morning?
Her eyes dimmed suddenly, losing their light.
“I-It’s a relief that you are s-safe. This, too, is thanks to His Majesty’s gra…!
“…Trading company.”
The words slipped from Cien’s lips, causing her light gray pupils to shake violently..
Her whole body went pale as she shivered, her frail hands trembling with spasms as she forcefully grabbed the knight’s arms.
“T-The t-trading company… The one run by Sir Ian’s sister! What has become of it?!”
Cien asked desperately, praying for it not to be true.
She hoped, pleaded that the knight would return with some news of a hiccup in the plans, something gone awry on the way.
But the knight offered only a faithful answer, tactlessly ignorant of her desperation.
“Ah, about that! I have followed through as instructed…”
The princess staggered back, as if on the verge of collapsing from the abrupt dizziness that hit her.
As the knight stepped forward, bewildered by the sudden turn of events, a thunderous shout erupted from the princess.
“C-Cancel it… Cancel it now! Whatever it takes!!”
Faced with the abrupt reversal of orders, the knight wore a troubled expression. However, sensing the seriousness in Cien’s demeanor, he nodded and took off running.
But deep down, the princess already knew.
Undoing what had already been set in motion was exponentially more difficult.
With a heart heavy with anxiety and worry, the princess gasped for air as she paced back and forth. The murmurs of the people around her reached her ears, but they held no significance.
After all, even if all of them were combined, they couldn’t match the value of one person’s life.
This can’t, this can’t be happening…
Cien’s eyes gradually filled with despair.
Her ordeal was far from over.
